Back in the USSR: Armenia

Yerevan, Garni and Khor Virap --> Yeghednadzor, Noravank, Shativank --> Sisian, Zorats Karer and Vorotnavank --> Goris --> Byurakan and Amberd --> Dilijan, Gosh and Haghartsin --> Stepanavan, Sanahin and Haghbat

An overnight journey from Tehran to Yerevan with the bus arriving at the Iran - Armenia border at the convenient hour of 2 am. Changing money and going through Iranian passport control and baggage security takes an hour then we board the bus again and head to the bridge over the river to Armenia ... but we stop the bus and an Iranian soldier boards the bus: another passport check. Over the bridge we go and we stop again: another passport check, this time by a Russian in a big furry hat (the Russians operate Armenia's borders). Arriving at the immigration hall there's a rush to grab the visa application forms and a queue forms before a lone Russian (in a fetching winter camouflage uniform) and his laser printer as he laboriously reviews each application and processes the visa (he still took the time to welcome me to Armenia). Two-and-a-half hours later our half-full bus is in Armenia and we set off for Yerevan. The timing has an upside: I get to see a sunset over Armenia's southern mountains.

Arriving in Yerevan I head to the only hostel in town (which is still excellent). I have a room with Laurent and Alejandro an Italian and Spanish duo of architecture students spending six weeks driving their beaten up ex-German police van around the Caucasus and who were heading south the next day. Yerevan is an interesting mix of elements: of Armenian architecture (which I like) and Soviet-style architectural filth, the sort where all buildings are square and drab; a whole lot of Ladas and Volgas driving the same potholed roads as late-model Mercedes and SUVs; and young people wearing the latest in fashion mixing with the older in their conservative garb. I did a lot of walking and popped into the Genocide Museum (as you do) and did a couple of day-trips out of Yerevan whilst I was there. The first was to the town of Garni to see the temple there and also to walk in Khosrov Nature Reserve with the intention of finding a distant monastery (which I didn't because of LP's frankly rubbish walking directions); however the walk alone was fantastic and I ended up seeing so many monasteries that I don't think I missed anything. The other noticeable thing about Garni - an observation that is that was repeated again and again across Armenia - is that Armenians are not keen composters. No, once they rake up those fallen autumn leaves into a big pile they happily burn them by the roadside: distant views of villages are punctuated by the sight of plumes of smoke rising from village gardens and roadside verges.

That digression aside, onto my next daytrip: the iconic monastery at Khor Virap. Why iconic? It is on a small hill on an otherwise pancake-flat area of land with Mount Ararat as a backdrop: it's quite an impressive sight. As there were no buses back for another four hours I returned to the motorway and hitch-hiked the 30 minute ride back to Yerevan.

5 days after arriving in Yerevan, my plan was to head south first and top of the list was Yeghegnadzor, one mighty Scrabble score of a town. The town, however, was anything but mighty: rural, unloved and a bit dilapidated. I plumped to stay at the Glazdor Hotel: an old Soviet building which clearly hadn't been renovated during my lifetime and which had no running water. Fear not: there was water provided in a large plastic bucket by the bathroom sink, topped up daily by the cleaner.

My first daytrip was to Noravank, a pair of churches perched on a ledge at the end of a canyon. I walked and hitch-hiked there (rather than pay a taxi driver) and had taken all my photos and was about to leave when Laurent walked up to me out of the blue and said hi - quite a small world after all. Laurent and Alejandro gave me a lift back down the canyon and cooked lunch for all on their little gas BBQ. The following day was my trip to the unfortunately named Shatin (but actually pronounced Shartin). Arriving in the town I was heading to the local hill-based church, Shartivank, when a chap in a truck offered to give me a ride there; all I had to do was jump in the back with about 10 other villagers, a sheep and some chickens and we're away. Arriving at Shartivank everything is unloaded and then, watching the locals, it becomes apparent that they're actually having a town BBQ: the sheep makes a bid for freedom but is chased down, has its throat cut and within 20 minutes has been skinned and gutted. The chickens went first but were brave and accepted their fate. The villages gave me a shot of home-distilled solvent and invited me to help them tuck into their ex-pets. I graciously declined as I had to carry on to the hillside fort of Smbataberd - it wasn't easy to find but a local kid of about 10 (and already an accomplished smoker) was nominated by a local adult to take me there (easily an hour walk): he did, then took me to Yeghegis, found Surp Zorats church for me, stopped by one of his relatives' place for apples and tea and then took me most of the way back to Shatin. Nice guy. It also gave me a wee insight into an Armenia home: best described as basic. There are few rooms, minimal furniture and the heating is a small wood-burning stove placed in the centre of the room.

Continuing south I headed to Sisian - not much of a town but home to the Armenian version of Stonehenge (called Zorats Karer), a few craggy rocks on top of a wind-swpt hill. The holes in the top of the stones point towards certain stars so local scholars consider this an early astronomy site. I also did a walk / hitch-hike to a nearby monastery calld Vorotnavank. Staying in the cold southern mountains, I spent some time in Goris which, like the anti-Sisian, is a pleasant town with some eye-catching architecture. I spent my time strolling around town and walking around the nearby hills. Which brings me to a general thought about Armenia: if you like walking it's a great place to be: its small and easy to get around and there are some excellent destinations such as monasteries, churches or forts sitting in the middle of nowhere which make great daytrip destinations. Georgia is rumoured to similarly be such a paradise.

Heading back north, I skipped Yerevan and went to Byurakan to walk to Amberd fortress. I arrived after sundown and planned to stay the night at the only hotel - at the local observatory! It had all the hallmarks of a horror movie script: a large, dark, lone building in wooded grounds; no other guests but me; an old, crusty but kindly gatekeeper and hounds barking in the distance. It turned out to be simple but fantastic and had hot, running water. I spent the next day walking to Amberd and back (quite a distance but a great walk).

I had planned to go next to Sevan at Armenia's showcase lake of the same name but, looking at the guidebook again the local accommodation was easily 2 - 3 times the cost of other accommodation so I decided to head straight to Dilijan and then daytrip back to Sevan, which is easy enough. Except I passed through Sevan on the way to Dilijan and saw that it was possibly the filthiest, ugliest city that I've ever laid eyes on: litter everywhere, distant Soviet-style buildings and an abandoned amusement park (complete with rusting ferris wheel). And yet, apparently, this is the place to be for summer holidays in Armenia. I crossed it off my list of places to see within seconds. Instead I focussed my efforts on the walks around Dilijan: unlike the barren south the hills here have a lot of forest so a bit of a change too. I stayed in a B&B with the director of the local fine arts academy (who spoke French even worse than me) and his wife, Nina.

Having got the lowdown from the local tourist office, I headed to Gosh to see Goshivank (the church) and then walk through the nature reserve forest to Parz Lich (Lake). Except the forest was more a jungle, the path invisible and my photocopied map (from the tourist office) not much use. Did I turn around and quit? Did I? Hours later (and late), just after night had fallen I exited the forest exhausted and hungry (but satisfied that I did find the lake on my way back) and knocked at the nearest house to see if they could call a taxi back to Dilijan for me. Arthur (pronounced Artuur) instead welcomed me in, fed me, gave me four shots of his home-made spirits and (after a few phone calls and some waiting) found a local who took me back to Dilijan (for a high price, but it was a Sunday evening). My next few walks were shorter and less eventful.

My last stop before leaving Armenia was to go visit Debed Canyon and the monasteries at Sanahin and Haghbat: "Don't miss them," intoned Lonely Planet. I had planned to go to Stepanavan, see Lori Berd fortress then head back to Vanadzor and do the canyon. However, the night before leaving the local news showed footage of sickly people in a hospital and microbiologists culturing things in petri dishes. "That's in Vanadzor," translated Nina. "There's a problem with the water so you should only drink bottled water there." As it happens, Vanadzor is as ugly as Sevan so I had another reason to not stay. Things got better because at Stepanavan I met a couple - Hanna from Finland and Floris from Belgium - who were doing Debed Canyon the next day by taxi but had a spare seat: it worked out easier (and cheaper) to share with them rather than messing around with public transport. Both monasteries were fantastic and at Haghbat we met a couple of clergymen who gave us a guided tour in broken English of the various chapels, churches and other buildings in the complex.

It also turned out that Hanna and Floris were also going to Tblisi the next day (as was I) so I had some new short-term travel companions.

Cheerio all,

Stephen

PS: Here's the photos from Armenia which you can, of course, still see in large size at http://picasaweb.google.com/rockmyworldbaby