A Baluchi tribal family, and freebies in Kerman
A ride to Kerman was uneventful, excepting a very large, very dead camel that we saw on the way, which someone had graffitied on. I wondered if it was one of the drug-smuggling ones you hear about. Apparently, 80% of Europe’s heroin comes through Iran from Afghanistan, and one of the key ways to smuggle it through is in camel’s humps. Camels have handy natural homing instincts, like pigeons (though presumably they aren’t as likely to crap on your head from a tree.) Anyway, this one was very dead. I got bored on the road. To keep myself amused I sang at the top of my voice. Mostly Phil Collins, to my shame. (Sometimes I fall asleep. This is particularly dangerous on motorways, which is irritating, because that’s exactly when it happens.) Somewhere en route to Kerman I saw a strange and inexplicable sight- there was a pick-up truck whizzing along, with sacks in the back, with what looked like feet poking out here and there, in a manner which...