About to become illegal aliens, we're still stuck in Qazvin

We’ve been in Qazvin for three days anxiously waiting to get our visas extended. Thanks to a friend of ours, today we have finally got an extension for 30 days. It wasn’t easy, in fact, it was extremely difficult. Great amouns of patience and a bit of a hard hand from our friend, Ali were needed to cope with the slow, thick and paranoic state burocracy. On our arrival, a good man lent us a hand and called a friend of his so that he could help us find a place to sleep. We eventually ended up invading a small flat he has inside a warehouse. Not knowing where we were going or what we would find there, we followed him for several kilometres to the warehouse where we were pleasantly surprised to find a charming flat where we could stay. At first, we had made arrangements for one night and we were to leave early the next morning but it seems that he has adopted us. With a dark complexion, a eagle-like nose and silvery hair, this middle-aged man, owner of a frozen goods warehouse is treating us like royalty. Ever since we arrived in the city which is approximately 150 kilometres from Teheran, he has not allowed us to pay for a single thing and has even accompanied us everywhere just like any perfect aristocratic chaperone would do. His friends come over to ask how we are doing. We have spent long hours amongst clouds of ghalyan talking about this and that, discussing politics, religion and life in general. Our friends has gone through a lot and he knows what he is talking about. He clearly expresses his ideas and gives convincing arguments. His incredible convincing poweres have allowed us to enter places closed to women, he has prolonged our visa and has opened doors to us which have otherwise been closed. Our regular taxi drives are probably the most exciting part of the day because as is already well known, Iranian drivers are all completely mad and the expert taxi drivers canoot be less.

The other day we travelled with a young man who a special treat, turned up the volume of the radio full blast while circulating, without seat belts, full speed ahead amongst city traffic. He asked us what we thought of Iran and we answered – Nice, it is very nice – He, however, answers –No, No!!!, Iran is no good, Spain is good! Iran is no good – he says while he uses his forefinger to make circles on top of his head drawing an invisible turban. We all laugh and he accelaerates. It is clear that the people are not happy with the regime and they only worry about justifying it to the rest of the world. Iranian society is nothink like what one imagines. It has nothing to do with the images that the media show. People are just like people from any place in the world, probably a lot more welcoming. Yesterday, we went to buy some kebabs for dinner and we ate them sitting on the grass in the midst of the fresh green night air. Families, children, young people, elderly people and couples sat in the park enjoying the night just like we were doing. Although there are many difficulties, society is resisting what we are fed by the media daily.

Today we are in Teheran, a huge, discusting city like almost any this size. We have been looking for embassies all day and they seem to have all moved. I get really angry when I find out that Spain has also moved. I have no idea what is going on and the heat is suffocating.

I will talk about VIPs another day but for now, peace, Alha and to sleep.