Sean Penn In IranIt had been six weeks since my friend, author Norman Solomon and I sat around in my living room deciding to travel to Iran and called journalist Reese Erlich to join us. Reese immediately began applications for visas. Over the month and a half that followed, he slogged through U.N. attaches and the cultural and foreign ministries of the Islamic Republic of Iran and swam doggedly upriver through the multiple bureaucracies that lead to a journalist's visa. This process led to continual rescheduling and revised itineraries.
When the visas were finally approved, two days beyond our latest planned departure, I was in England visiting my wife who was working there. On the afternoon of June 8, I watched the Iranian World Cup team dominate Bahrain on the television of the Iranian Consulate in London. Iran's victory gave me further reason to mourn our most recent travel delay, because it meant I would miss the jubilance that would surely explode in the streets of Tehran.
The next morning, I left London at 6 a.m. to rendezvous with Norman and Reese in Munich. While I waited in the Munich airport for their flight from San Francisco, I did some money changing, magazine buying and snacking. I travel better where English is not spoken. But English is spoken at German airports, so I remained restless until their arrival.
At 3:30 p.m. Munich-time, Norman, Reese and I boarded Lufthansa Flight 602 to Tehran. The other passengers were about 95 percent Iranian and a few Europeans. Last year, including journalists, fewer than 500 non-Iranian Americans visited Iran. I looked around the plane, full of modern men and women in Western garb, returning from vacations, family visits and business. Alcoholic beverages were served on the plane. But no alcohol sold for duty- free purchase. Iran is an Islamic state and a dry one. Nonetheless, many of these travelers were happy to get in their last swill before landing.
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