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Traffic in Iran
OK, so I am not the young aggressive driver I used to be. These days, with congestion reaching its limits in London, I get joy out of reaching my destination at all rather than getting there as fast as possible. Where I used to sneak past and squeeze into gaps with a dinky VW, now I use a decadent Volvo to obstruct and sandwich where possible. I guess I never grew up entirely. But traffic in Iran is a different game entirely...
First impression
Part of my plans for traveling around Iran was to hire a decent car and just cruise. Smell the fresh desert air. Discover magical fata morganas. Park in the shade of lush palm trees and enjoy kebabs in rustic roadside restaurants.
I was misinformed. First of all, don't let the green foliage around Tehran airport fool you. This really is the last stop for oxygen before moving on. Since I was going to Karaj, I spent the first hour inhaling a cocktail of asphalt, exhaust, soot, dust and burning rubber. No doubt there were other airborne components I couldn't identify or that were simply odourless, but I am confident these will eventually show up on a medical chart. Be prepared to spend your first day in chemical shock.
The basics
On my second day I felt sufficiently acclimatised to venture out for a drive. That was a mistake, as became apparent when we drove onto the high street.
To get an idea, picture a roller coaster. The roller coaster is inside a huge washing machine full of pedestrians. It has crossings, the brakes don't work and the carts are going either way. This indeed is like traffic in Iran, only safer.
Since there are no traffic lights -- at least no meaningful ones -- all traffic is regulated by honking. To overtake someone, honk. If you are being overtaken, honk to acknowledge this. Even if you don't intend to overtake, just honk to announce your presence.
Crossings, roundabouts and driveways are negotiated by honking, eye contact and sign language. To this end, drivers usually keep their left arm stand-by, hanging out the window. Beginners may find it convenient to connect the horn directly to the gas pedal.
This procedure seems to avoid the most serious accidents. Occasional bumper rubbing however is integral part of driving, probably even an Iranian tradition. People who bother to get out after a little bump usually find that they are relatives, shake hands and move on.
There is no role for police here. Speeding is impossible. Traffic lights are on permanent orange. With the apparent absence of traffic laws in general, none can be broken anyway. Officers are likely more concerned with islamic enforcement, perhaps even monitoring each other, rather than assisting in traffic.
The cost
It wasn't until we had to stop for fuel that I realised why anyone even considers car travel. Middle Eastern petrol stations are every Western driver's wet dream. With petrol cheaper than water, it is surprising why anyone bothers to use the little hole in the tank for filling. You could easily splash the car with petrol from a distance and still have money left for kebabs.
No need to scratch your head choosing between unleaded, super, diesel or hydrogen. There is only one kind: good old-fashioned no-nonsense petrol, just like old times. Apparently LPG does exist here, but with this state of traffic it could be just like sitting on a rocket to Mars.
The trade-off is that you have to get used to breathing dirty exhaust instead of oxygen. Prrotective masks are seen occasionally, but I suspect the majority of the population have long forgotten the point of fresh air.
All this makes taxis cheap as chips, of course. But you get what you pay for. Don't expect any privacy. At any point during your journey, you may be joined by new passengers. There is no maximum. Front seats are no exception. If you are unfortunate enough to sit in the front, be prepared to move over onto the handbrake. This form of intimacy with your fellow passenger can be interesting, but depends on the shape of the handbrake.
Advanced topics
A word about traffic flow. The only rule is: if you can get away with it, it's okay. This provides enormous freedom and cuts your journey time in half.
First impression
Part of my plans for traveling around Iran was to hire a decent car and just cruise. Smell the fresh desert air. Discover magical fata morganas. Park in the shade of lush palm trees and enjoy kebabs in rustic roadside restaurants.
I was misinformed. First of all, don't let the green foliage around Tehran airport fool you. This really is the last stop for oxygen before moving on. Since I was going to Karaj, I spent the first hour inhaling a cocktail of asphalt, exhaust, soot, dust and burning rubber. No doubt there were other airborne components I couldn't identify or that were simply odourless, but I am confident these will eventually show up on a medical chart. Be prepared to spend your first day in chemical shock.
The basics
On my second day I felt sufficiently acclimatised to venture out for a drive. That was a mistake, as became apparent when we drove onto the high street.
To get an idea, picture a roller coaster. The roller coaster is inside a huge washing machine full of pedestrians. It has crossings, the brakes don't work and the carts are going either way. This indeed is like traffic in Iran, only safer.
Since there are no traffic lights -- at least no meaningful ones -- all traffic is regulated by honking. To overtake someone, honk. If you are being overtaken, honk to acknowledge this. Even if you don't intend to overtake, just honk to announce your presence.
Crossings, roundabouts and driveways are negotiated by honking, eye contact and sign language. To this end, drivers usually keep their left arm stand-by, hanging out the window. Beginners may find it convenient to connect the horn directly to the gas pedal.
This procedure seems to avoid the most serious accidents. Occasional bumper rubbing however is integral part of driving, probably even an Iranian tradition. People who bother to get out after a little bump usually find that they are relatives, shake hands and move on.
There is no role for police here. Speeding is impossible. Traffic lights are on permanent orange. With the apparent absence of traffic laws in general, none can be broken anyway. Officers are likely more concerned with islamic enforcement, perhaps even monitoring each other, rather than assisting in traffic.
The cost
It wasn't until we had to stop for fuel that I realised why anyone even considers car travel. Middle Eastern petrol stations are every Western driver's wet dream. With petrol cheaper than water, it is surprising why anyone bothers to use the little hole in the tank for filling. You could easily splash the car with petrol from a distance and still have money left for kebabs.
No need to scratch your head choosing between unleaded, super, diesel or hydrogen. There is only one kind: good old-fashioned no-nonsense petrol, just like old times. Apparently LPG does exist here, but with this state of traffic it could be just like sitting on a rocket to Mars.
The trade-off is that you have to get used to breathing dirty exhaust instead of oxygen. Prrotective masks are seen occasionally, but I suspect the majority of the population have long forgotten the point of fresh air.
All this makes taxis cheap as chips, of course. But you get what you pay for. Don't expect any privacy. At any point during your journey, you may be joined by new passengers. There is no maximum. Front seats are no exception. If you are unfortunate enough to sit in the front, be prepared to move over onto the handbrake. This form of intimacy with your fellow passenger can be interesting, but depends on the shape of the handbrake.
Advanced topics
A word about traffic flow. The only rule is: if you can get away with it, it's okay. This provides enormous freedom and cuts your journey time in half.
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