TUESDAY 16TH NOVEMBER, 1976
"Missed breakfast. Ran back for camera! Headed for border. Stopped at small town Zahedan to spend last rials - felt like a zombie. Slept until lunch. Slept until border. Passports looked at twice - water train (arrives once a week) was in. Money changers round the bus. Had to file in and be looked at. Slept until dark - missed the day! Slept again until got to Pakistan customs' yard in nearest town. Pitched tents. Saw camel train! Several more later on. (Nokkundi)"
[The previous stop at Camp C and suddenly being thrown into a pocket of Britain - a Geordie working men's social club in the Iranian desert - caused more than just a hangover. It was a disorientating experience and caused my first real bout of homesickness - the accents, the familiar food - causing home to rear up in an unexpected way. It was fun at the time, but left me more vulnerable to the sickness of home-thinking]
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