After a month of rest, I was finally able to take off the cast from my wrist. The doctors had advised me not to strain it for another month, but the urge to travel again was too strong. So I booked a flight and returned to Iran. At the airport, Mohamed’s brother was waiting for me. As soon as I landed in Tehran, I got into the car with him to go reunite with my beloved motorcycle. I was warmly welcomed by Mohamed, and we immediately went to check the bike. Right away, I noticed a problem: the crash bars had broken the coolant reservoir. I had brought all the necessary spare parts with me in my luggage, but I had completely overlooked the reservoir, so I didn’t have a replacement. Getting one shipped was basically impossible, and the only option was to try to repair the damaged one. It would take about a week, but I had no other choice, so I stayed with Mohamed for a while longer. During that week of waiting, I met Jörg and Birgit, a German couple traveling with their truck, a Mercedes 814. It’s a fairly old model but super reliable, and they had built out the interior themselves. It looked like a real little home on wheels. Their goal was to reach Cambodia, but first they had to cross Pakistan, something that made Birgit a bit uneasy. I would also be crossing Pakistan, so we said we might see each other again at the border and maybe cross it together. And that’s exactly what happened, but that is another story. After three days, I said goodbye to them and was once again alone with Mohamed. Time felt like it had stopped. I had no internet, power cuts were frequent, and the days seemed endless. To pass the time, I read. I had brought two books with me, and I found a third one at Mohamed’s guest house. It was a book about his life and the founding of the Tak Taku Guest House. Since he was a child, Mohamed loved meeting and helping travelers.

In the beginning, he would stand by the roadside holding large signs written in Farsi, but no one stopped. So he asked someone to help him translate them into English. That’s how the first messages were born: “Are you hungry?” “Need help?” “Looking for a place to sleep?” He went back out on the street, and eventually, travelers started stopping. A few years later, Mohamed did something truly bold. He bought a traditional house that had been abandoned for more than twenty years. The neighbors had been using it to shelter goats and sheep, and the inside was in terrible shape, dirty, smelly, and falling apart. His parents thought it was an impossible dream, but he didn’t give up. It took three years of hard work, but in 2015 the house was fully restored. His story is truly inspiring. There are few people like him in the world, and without his help, I don’t know if I would have been able to continue my journey. After those quiet days, a familiar face showed up at the guest house, a fellow Italian motorcyclist. I met Federico Buzzetti, better known on YouTube as BUZ. For those who don’t know him, he’s a guy from Trento traveling with his Ténéré 700 from Trento to Mongolia. And so, two guys from Trentino met in Iran. What a moment. At last, the coolant reservoir was repaired and I was ready to hit the road again. I said goodbye and thanked Mohamed with all my heart, and finally I was back on the move. My last few days in Iran went by smoothly. I visited Yazd, which I think is one of the most beautiful cities in the country, and then continued on to Bam, an incredible city that looks like something out of an ancient Persian film. In Bam, I stocked up on food and water to prepare for the toughest part of this journey, crossing the Balochistan region in Pakistan.