The saddle saga: entry into Iran Arriving in the chaotically busy Tehran we met Maryam. I had contacted her via a cycling website and she agreed to host us. In her mid-thirties, five foot seven with curly blond hair mostly tucked under her bright hijab she has an easy confident manner which was hard not to like. Whilst most people in Iran dress in sombre dark attire, Maryam embraces a kaleidoscope of colours. An impressive lady she has cycle toured through Europe, South East Asia and Afghanistan. She is also an experienced rock climber, mountain guide and diver. She packs this into her spare time and is a professional photographer to pay the bills. It is fair to say I liked her immediately. We were welcomed into her parent's home that night and met most of her nine siblings. We all sat cross legged around the sofreh (dinner cloth) placed on the floor and feasted on traditional food. Ghormeh Sabzi (spinach, beans and lamb) and Mirza Ghasemi (aubergine, egg, tomato, garlic and oil) were served with rice and fish. This came after a welcoming round of chai, soup, fruit, biscuits and sweets. For the next few nights we stayed with a friend of Maryam in the centre of Tehran. Andy and I quickly grew fond of the city spent our time meeting Maryam's extended gang of friends, wandering the city taking in the sights, eating lots of good local food, visiting traditional chai houses, relaxing at a spa, negotiating the manic bazaar, there was even time for an Iran vs. England dance off - Pouya won it for Iran with 'The Worm'. During our stay in Tehran we struggled to pay for anything or help with any housework. Hospitality is woven into the fabric of Iranian culture and guests, even those that are complete strangers, are spoilt accordingly. Due to time constraints on our visa we took a bus 600 miles south to Shiraz. This is a much more laid back city than Tehran, the people known within Iran for their party nature. We explored the very impressive Persepolis. This site is the ruins of an ancient city that was the capital and crown jewel of a vast Persian empire in the 5th and 6th century BC before Alexander the Great sacked and looted it. Christmas day, just another day here, was spent in Ghir, south of Shiraz just 100 miles from the Persian Gulf. We met the governor, shot air rifles, turned down opium, met desert nomads and ate chicken kebabs. It was unconventional, not an alcoholic drink or present in site but it was fun and we were amongst friends. The following day we set off for Esfahan, the cultural capital of Iran and a city I had been looking forward to for a couple of years. It is known in Persian literature as Whalf the world" meaning to see it is to see half the world. My expectations were high.