On our first morning at Istanbul, we set off before breakfast to be at the door of the Iranian embassy to start our visa application process. We're in good time and sit outside until there are signs of life and the door is opened. Inside, we go up to the window one by one to give them our already issued authorisation number. Once this is checked, we are given a form to complete and told that we need to copy our passport photo page and the page with our Turkish visa in. We then need to go to the bank to pay the 100 Euro's fee. We subsequently learn that the fee for the USA is 70 Euros and some French visitors in the embassy tell us they only have to pay 50. It would appear that this may be some sort of fee matching system for all the individual countries. Sadly, when Alan goes to the front of the queue, they have not received a fax from the Iranian embassy in London with his reference number on it. We are 2 hours ahead of London and the embassy closes at 11.30 and it transpires that we don't have enough time in Istanbul to sort the logistics out. Alan goes and sits on his own for a while to contemplate this fact. (There are already two people on the trip who haven't been issued with visas for Iran and they are going on a boat trip for the few days that we are in Iran and will fly into Amritsar – via Dubai and Delhi - the day before we arrive in India. Alan will make this a threesome.)
Conveniently, less than a hundred metres from the door of the embassy is a copy shop so they pick up the trade for making copies, although it works out at less than 5p a copy. There are several guys in the shop and initially all eager to serve us individually but when they see the paltry business they are receiving from us they soon show a lack of interest. Then it's across the road to the bank, in what Helen remarks is a workable triangle just like a well laid out kitchen plan. In the bank, a security guard issues us with a ticket for what we want and there appears to be a separate counter for the collection of visa fees and similar transactions. When our number is called a local guy quickly queue jumps and as we arrive at the counter we are surprised when the clerk behind the counter doesn't ignore us, but leaves the other guy standing. The money handed over, receipts in hand, we complete the triangle and return to the embassy to hand our passports over the counter together with a copy of the receipt and completed application form. We are told to return at 10am tomorrow.
On Saturday morning we get to the embassy at just before 10, but don't press the button until the allotted time. We stand there for 5 minutes or so before trying again and then Vicky decides she needs to get some money out of the cash machine at the bank opposite. She gets us to promise not to go inside the embassy without her if the door is opened whilst she is across the road. She's halfway over and this involves negotiating a significant concrete barrier in the centre of the road when David shouts 'Vicky' but of course the door isn't really open. Then as soon as she is concentrating on withdrawing cash David suggests we all hide in a line behind the large tree outside the embassy for when she turns back around. We think the looks from the passers by at our strange line up probably gives the game away, but it doesn't stop the initial thought of 'B@st@rds!' Vicky later reveals. Whilst we're still standing at the closed door to the Embassy we notice the sign that gives the opening hours, but it's the days that finally catches our eye and sinks in – Monday to Friday. We've buzzed the buzzer and hammered on the door several times during this twenty minutes. Matt sensibly suggests that he will walk around the embassy to see if there's another entrance, whilst we wait and guard the unopened door. He's gone some time, which is sort of encouraging and eventually returns with promising news. There's a gate around the corner and he's spoken to one of the security guards who has handed him his walkie talkie and spoken to someone on the other end who has said 'I can help', so Matt has returned to tell us this. We still stand at the door for a minute or several though until Helen suggests that perhaps we should all go to the gate as a group to pursue the 'I can help' voice. David stays at the unopened door just in case somebody comes there, Helen stands on the corner 75 metres or so away and the remaining three go up to the entrance. It's less than a minute before Helen beckons David to come forward. As David jogs around the corner the security guard raises his hand, to which David 'high fives' much to the amusement of the guard. We find ourselves in a small reception room and we're told the man on the phone in front of us has just said '4 British and 1 American' passports, so everything continues to look promising. The guy on the phone then disappears. After a few minutes pass by, another two guys appear one by one and the second is holding several plastic A4 wallets that contain our passports. He then starts to complete another form for four of us, this is our finger print record card. Only the British need their fingerprints taking, there's no need for the American he says – perhaps another reciprocal agreement? We then place fingers and thumbs into a pad of blue ink and the cards are completed with smudgy marks. We are offered cleaning fluid to remove the ink, which sort of works, and we are then out of the embassy complete with the Iranian visas in our passports and slight blue tones to the tips of our hands.
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