Caucasus Hike 1: South Armenia
10.6 kms, June 7, 2021
In the back of his mind, the Traveler has the feeling that this could be a sensitive area, this border between Iran, a Muslim country with a not so peaceful recent history... and Armenia, a Christian country that just had a devastating war with another Muslim neighbor, Azerbaijan, just a few months ago. He knows he should be cautious.
But the excitement of being in this special place gets the best of him, and he can't resist the urge to pull out his camera and take pictures to immortalize this moment. This is, after all, perhaps the closest he will ever get to the fascinating land of Persia and he wants to capture any clues about this country that he can.
He takes a panoramic gaze in all directions. All around there are mountains. Jagged, bone dry mountains that seem to stand guard, daring humans to try to pass through this region. It would seem to make sense that this would be the borderland between two historic empires.
But it's not the mountain ridge that forms the border between Iran and Armenia... Europe and Asia... Islam and Christianity. Rather it is the Aras River, a peaceful, mid-sized river running at the bottom of this rugged valley. And here there is life and greenery. The narrow shores of the river are being cultivated on both sides. This river actually feels more like a uniting force, rather than a barrier—in spite of the barb wire fence on the Armenian side.
In fact, as the Traveler learns later, this river is a uniter, not only of Armenia and Iran, but of all of the Caucasus. The Aras is part of the Kura River basin, which collects water not just from Armenia and Iran, but also Turkey, Georgia and Azerbaijan before finally flowing into the Caspian Sea. For thousands of years it has been the life blood of civilization bringing prosperity and nourishment to Turks, Armenians, Persians, Azeris—and everybody else in this part of the world. Some people might hate each other here, but at the end of the day, they all share the same river, which seems to have little interest in people's petty divisions.
On the other side, the Traveler sees a village with modern buildings. This particular corner of Muslim Middle Eastern Asia is clearly more prosperous that this corner of Christian Europe, contrary to the stereotypes. There is also a modern highway on the other side, cutting into the jagged mountainside.
Suddenly it hits the Traveler, that is not just a highway connection Iranian border towns. That highway is the vital link connecting Azerbaijan and its exclave, Nakhchivan on the west side of Armenia. Since Azeris can't enter Armenia, the closest land route they have to Nakhchivan is through Iran, who, it seems has made it easy for them.
The Traveler will learn that the image that Iran has here in the Caucasus is quite different from other parts of the world. In the Middle East—and to many folks in places like United States—Iran may appear as a warmongerer and fueler of conflicts. Here in the Caucasus, however, Iran is the one country that gets along with everyone. Armenia doesn't get along with Turkey or Azerbaijan. Georgia doesn't get along with Russia... Iran? It gets along with everybody in this conflict prone neighborhood.
A couple of old tanker trucks rumble past. The Traveler spots that they have license plates with Arabic script. This windy road, he will learn is a lifeline, connecting Armenia with Iran and providing it with vital resources to this landlocked nation which has closed borders with both Turkey and Azerbaijan. Not only that, but in last year's war, Azerbaijan seized control of a section of the only highway that connects southern Armenia with the rest of the country. Thanks to the Russian brokered ceasefire, Armenians can still use that highway freely. However, the Traveler gets the feeling that that could change at any time, making this pretty much the only connection that this part of Armenia would have with the rest of the world...
A police car stops. Clearly they want to speak to the Traveler, however they don't speak English. He wonders for a moment if this “Hike across Europe” is going to come to an abrupt halt, just an hour after it began.
“American tourist” The Traveler says—a phrase he will be repeating many, many times in the upcoming months, almost always eliciting a positive response.
They ask for his passport and ask him in Russian where he's coming from. He does his best to explain that, no, he did not come from Iran, gesturing that the border is closed to Americans. He gestures that he's just walking, enjoying the view.
They seem content with this explanation—almost apologetic about disturbing him, and only ask to take a photo of his passport then continue on their way. It's a pleasant encounter—a far cry from what the Traveler imagines such an encounter would have been like a few decades ago, when this was the border of the great Soviet Empire. Back then, a lone “American tourist” strolling along a border fence taking pictures would not have elicited such a laid back reaction. America was “The Enemy” back then. Now, the enemies are Azerbaijan and Turkey... America is their friend—or so they believe.
His hike continues on... following the Aras River. Until the jagged mountain range to his left opens up with a beautiful valley-gorge heading north. This is a valley that the Traveler will follow, the Meghri Valley. So he bids the Aras River farewell... looking back at one last glance of the beautiful country of Iran.
It's time to start exploring Europe.
The Meghri Valley
The Traveler soaks in each detail of the valley. Here, the small but lively Meghri River rushes quickly past, a reminder that he is headed up into the mountains now. Along the shore are orchards. Later he learns that this region produces the best apricots in the country, so people say. Behind the orchard, an intriguing butte rises up with all sorts of nooks and crags, inviting you to explore it.
Another car stops. This fellow is a police officer as well, off duty it seems, as he's with his wife. He again asks the Traveler where he's from and what he's doing. Again, “American tourist” is a very satisfactory answer. But this fellow is insistent on wanting to help the Traveler, offering to take his to a hotel in town. The Traveler explains—as he will have to many, many times in the upcoming days—that, thank you, but I really LIKE to walk. This is a foreign concept, it seems, for people who maybe didn't have cars until recently. For them, walking is something you do if you're very poor and have no transportation or anyone to give you a ride. It's not something you ever do because you want to.
Finally the thoughtful police officer understands, and gives him directions to the nearest hotel—as well as his phone number in case he needs anything, takes a picture of his passport, and drives off.
It's a very nice feeling—especially after several not so pleasant interactions with police officers in other developing countries. It does give the Traveler the feeling that here, police are actually going to be looking out for him and caring for his safety—without impeding him from exploring the country in his own way. He chuckles as he imagines policemen messaging the police station up the road, notifying them that there's a “lone American tourist on foot heading your way... make sure that he stays safe”!
Armenians, overall he will find out are quite happy to see a tourist, especially in this part of the country not far from where a war was fought just a few months ago.
It's just a few kilometers and he reaches the town of Meghri proper. At the entrance to town he spots a sign saying “hotel” off to the side, and he figures he'd better go check it out. Here he finds two old men sitting at a table outside, drinking coffee. Yes, the hotel is open, and it seem the Traveler is the only customer. After being show to his room, they invite him to join them for a drink, and he obliges.
They attempt to converse, using mostly gestures. Almost all the older folks in Armenia speak only Armenian and Russian, so it's going to be a challenge to communicate—unless the Traveler learns one of those two languages. But he does find that gestures can go quite a long way as well.
When the Traveler tells Armenians he is from America, they will often respond with the question “Glendale?” Glendale, a suburb of Los Angeles, California is a synonym for “America” to them, as that's where the largest Armenian-American community likes. Most folks, it seems, in Armenia have at least one relative living in the United States—which boosts the positive image they have of that country.
The older fellow seems a bit glum as he tells the Traveler that all of his extended family has emigrated to America, and only he remains, working as a farmer.
The Traveler looks around. Surrounded by orchards, with plenty of water. Mountains all around, sort of protecting you from invaders... It seems like the Meghri Valley is a good place to live. To sink in your roots. But then again... when you hear of your relatives getting richer and richer off in America and enjoying comforts and luxuries you can't even dream of... maybe growing apricots in Meghri Valley doesn't seem so wonderful any more. Especially when you always feel your under the shadow of war. A war that could cut you off from the rest of your country.
Who made the better choice? Those who left or those who stayed? Later the Traveler will have the opportunity to spend time in an Armenian “ghetto” in Los Angeles. He will be fascinated to walk past Armenian private schools and hear kids at recess shouting at each other in Armenian—even though they've lived all their lives in America. He'll buy Armenian baked goods and get his haircut at an Armenian babershop where the barber only speaks Armenian. Clearly, Armenian Americans have made a huge effort to preserve their culture and pass it on to their children.
But it's it better to try to preserve your culture and cultivate your own land in your own country, even if this be a harder life? This is a question the Traveler will ponder on a lot in the days ahead.
He heads up into the town, which doesn't really have a “town” layout, but consist mainly of alleys winding up the sides of the steep slopes along the valley. Partway up there is a little plaza and a couple shops, with a cozy feel to it. It seems like the perfect spot to pull out his guitar and dedicate a couple of songs to this town... this country... and this continent that he has arrived in.
A young fellow approaches him. “Can I help you with anything?” the fellow asks in English. The Traveler thanks him, and asks where he learned his English. “I study on my own, and take classes here in town. My hope is to someday go to America”.
The Traveler is cheered to see such ambition and determination—although, again, he wonders, if all the ambitious young people just want to leave, what will become of this region?
The Armenian Church
The Traveler continues exploring, heading up a narrow alley, hoping it will lead to somewhere interesting and not be an awkward dead end. It does. It leads to an open courtyard with a grand view of the Meghri Valley below and the mountains on the other side. Here, there is a church, built in the style typical of the Armenian faith, small in area but with a tall atrium tower in the center, with an octagonal cone at the top.
Inside, the church is dim, with no chairs and little space for gathering. It seem, unlike mosques and churches in other parts of the world, Armenian churches aren't really gathering places, but more used as a place to go individually for a quick prayer and to light a candle. The Armenian-Christian faith, however is very central and synonymous to the Armenian identity, something the Traveler will learn more of in the days ahead. Many Armenians are proud of the fact that Armenian was the first kingdom to make Christianity their “official religion” way back around the year 310. As Armenians have suffered persecution and genocide over the centuries, it seems it's made them even more determined to hold on to this religious identity.... something even 70 years under the anti-religion Soviet empire doesn't seem to have dampened.
The Traveler gazes at the images along the walls. Most are portraits of important saints that you can pray to. One painting that catches his eye is painted onto the the wall itself, it looks like a very old painting of people being tortured in the fires of hell, surrounded by demons. Hung upside down... coiled by snakes. These people have looks of horror on their faces, unlike the “poker faces” of most Armenian religious images.
The Traveler wonders... when younger Armenians see this, do they see it as a relic of an outdated belief system that they hold to, but don't actually believe? Or do the take these images literally, like Evengelical Christians in America do? He sees a young woman come in a light a candle a the image of one of the saints, do a quick prayer, then head out again.
He heads outside, eager to learn more about this town. At the top of a hill it looks like there is the ruins of a castle, which of course the Traveler would like to visit. But each time he finds a stairway or alley heading up that way, it ends at someone's front door. He continues around this steep hill, where the neighborhood takes on a lively feel. There are kids out playing—boys and girls together. Older folks out chatting together. There's a cheerful vibe to this area. Clearly—despite all the folks emigrating elsewhere—the culture here is very much alive. Overall homes might be a bit shoddy, but sturdy, usually with grapevines in the front patio providing shade and grapes. The Traveler does a loop up one street and back another alley, finally giving up on reaching the castle.
It's getting dark as he takes a grand stairway that connects the upper neighborhood to the shops along the main road down by the river. Down here he come across a very pleasant discovery: an upscale restaurant built directly over the river, where you can gaze down at the water while you eat.
Usually the Traveler avoids eating at “fancy” places, in order to stick to a budget during his travels. But he decides to make an exception here. And much to his pleasant surprise, he finds that the food here costs barely more than the cheapy “fast food” joints along the road! Here, there's a long menu with all types of salads with different kids of vegetables... grilled meats... stews... soups... desserts—all for just a few US dollars.
Immediately the Traveler's liking for this country shoots up a few stars. If he is going to be able to eat at fancy restaurants with varied menus without worrying about his budget, then he knows he is REALLY going to like this country.
Finally he heads back to his hotel, and calls it a day.
Day 2: The Hike up the Meghri Valley
37.4 kms, June 8, 2021
The next morning the Traveler is up early, eager to begin seriously exploring this country and this continent. He really wants to do this segment of the Journey entirely on foot—however he will bend the “continuous hike” rules a little. Today he plans to leave his backpack at the hotel... hike for a day... then hitch a ride back and enjoy another dinner at a the nice restaurant and a night in a comfortable bed. Then tomorrow he will hitch a ride up the road and pick up where he left off. That's the plan, anyways.
All is quiet as he walks up the road alongside the Meghri River. Here the Meghri Valley is narrow, with steep slopes on each side. Seems like an unlikely place to build a town. And this isn't just any random town either. Meghri—he later reads—has been inhabited for over 2500 years and in 987 it became part of the kingdom of Syunik. However, from the 12th the the 15th century it was invaded and destroyed repeatedly by Seljuk, Mongol and other forces. Turns out, despite being surrounded by mountains and at the mouth of a dead end valley, this town has seen more than its share of action over the centuries. Then in the 16th century, this town became part of Persia, and a British officer described it as one of the most beautiful glens in Persia, with many churches and orchards.
Further up the road, the valley widens, with idyllic farmland surrounded by steep wooded slopes. Here the Traveler starts to really feel the charm of this valley, imagining what a peaceful life it could be here... cultivating your own crops... being self sufficient... not worrying about what goes on in the rest of the world.
He reaches a village, Lehvaz, on the west side of the river and decides to go check it out. He soon finds himself walking along narrow twisted streets up the hillside, lined with walled in houses.
But something feels a bit surreal about this place. First of all, the cars—about 4 out of 5 of them is an antique Russian Lada! These old cars, he soon learns, are quite common here in Armenia still, but it does still feel strange to see nothing BUT Ladas! What is going on in this village?
He sees just a couple old people shuffling about. He greets a man as he passes... the man doesn't respond. There is something very depressing about this place. Suddenly the idea of this valley being a sort of Shangri-La, where a self-sufficient culture can prosper undisturbed clearly feels way off. This is not a happy, prosperous area. It seems most of the young folks have left. And those who have stayed behind do not appear to be doing well.
The Traveler looks finds a narrow pathway between buildings he hopes will allow him to look back around to where he came. It takes him to an area of ramshackle buildings made of pieces of scrap metal.
A shantytown? No. On closer look, it appears that this is where the animals are kept, in a separate “animal ghetto” part of the village. Actually, the concept does make sense—much healthier than having lifestock right next to the houses where people sleep. But thinking of other parts of the world where people build sturdy barns for their animals to sleep in, this does feel pretty half-hearted...
The Traveler continues on up the road, thinking of what he has seen. This semi-abandoned village is quite a contrast to the lively rural villages of Africa and the Middle East he has wandered through, full of children running about and playing and plenty of young folks. Yes, those villages might be poor, but they are alive and energetic. The empty rural village, he will see more and more, is very much a European phenomenon.
Why? He wonders. He thinks of different reasons: Lower birth rates. The fact that it's relatively easy to emigrate to other countries where there are more opportunities. The constant threat of war and economic instability. Just the fact that living in a village growing appricots just isn't very appealing to young people these days.
Whatever these reasons are, Lehvaz does not have a cheerful air to it.
The Traveler continues on up the road as the valley narrows. Along the way, he peers down to the rushing Meghri River and spots something intriguing: the remains of an ancient arch bridge, a reminder that this valley has been a transportation route for a long time. Nowadays, with, it's long borders with Turkey and Azerbaijan closed, this valley is a vital transportation route connecting Iran with Armenia and beyond. By the side of the road, the Traveler spots a couple of Iranian tanker truckers, stopping to make tea and take a break by the side of the road, before continuing with their lengthy journey.
Alpine Scenery
As the valley starts to open up a bit, the Traveler is greeting by a exciting sight: snow capped mountains. Partially hidden in a swirl of clouds are three jagged peaks rising up above the lush, green valley and a couple of villages nestled in its lower slopes.
“I didin't expect to see snow this far south—in July!” the Traveler exclaims to himself. There's something about perennial snow that gets his heart beating faster. Perhaps the stories and images from his childhood about Switzerland. It's something he really connects with.
He knows he has to make a bit of a detour to check out the village on its slopes. In fact... there's a part of him that wants to climb higher and higher and fully experience these beautiful mountains. Also, he hasn't come across any shops or restaurants along the way, and he's feeling quite hungry and thirsty.
He reaches Lichk, and sure enough, there is a shop here, where the Traveler eagerly stocks up on bread, snacks and enjoys an ice cream bar. The shopkeeper invites him to sit down and rest for a bit, as they attempt to carry on a “gesture conversation”--together with another old man there.
The shopkeeper says that, yes, there are tourists who come here, and some climb up these mountains, which take a full day to climb. It's tempting... but the Traveler decides that he needs to continue on.
As he walks through Lichk, he gets a different feel for this place. Many houses are abandoned. Other traditional houses—which could look very beautiful if maintained—are in sorry shape. It seems there's been almost no investment here in a long time.
The Traveler thinks of Switzerland, and it strikes him that the landscape, weather, and resources of this area and Alpine Switzerland are quite similar. Beautiful scenery... plenty of water... enough flat land to cultivate... potential hydroelectric power...
Why are the two countries so strikingly different? He wonders. Is it just because the governments, economies and geopolitics of the countries are different? Or could it be something within the culture of the people as well?
Later, hiking through the Alps, he will see villages that from a distance look just like this one. But there, he will see folks working the land, running small businesses and keeping their houses in tip top conditions. People who could easily move to an urban area and enjoy a easier life. People who are “rich” by global standards, but still do heavy outdoor farm work. They choose the rugged mountain life, and pass on these values to their children.
Could villagers here in Armenia do the same if they wanted to? Or are their too many forces outside of their control, pulling them down? The Traveler wonders.
Infrastructure and business bureaucracy is a big factor, he realizes. In Switzerland, a farmer can get a bank loan and set up a quality cheese factory in his home, knowing that there are good roads, streamlined trade routes and open borders to get his product to other parts of his country as well as neighboring countries. Banks and their customers have a long history of trust with each other due to a shared culture of honesty and efficiency. And, again, parents pass on these business skills and knowledge to their children.
Here, Armenian only have to deal with closed borders, the shadow of war and a less than stellar government—but also the legacy of 70 years of communism that still lingers in this part of the world... not the best conditions to cultivate an entrepreneurial spirit.
The Traveler continues on up the road, pondering on what this means for the future of this region.
The Picnic
It looks like he will be reaching the end of this valley before long, and climbing up over a pass into another valley. He would like to take a dip in the Meghri River to memorialize this experience. He finds a way down to the river, next to the remains of another ancient bridge... but alas, the water is moving too fast to enjoy a proper dunking, so he finally gives up, and continues on.
The road starts to climb a series of switchbacks up the steep mountainside to the pass. He successfully finds a shortcut up one of the switchbacks, and a trail that he hopes will be another. Right up ahead is a an antique Lada, kind of hidden away. The Traveler feels just a tad bit uncomfortable, wondering what someone might be doing, parked here in the middle of nowhere.
Turns out he has no reason to be concerned. It's just a family having a picnic, here on the mountainside. The Traveler greets as he passes, pretending he knows where he's going. Their response? Immediately insist that he joins them.
This will be the first of many invitations on his hike through Armenia. He decides to accept, and certainly does not regret the decision. It's his first up close look at Armenian family.
This family consists of grandpa and grandma, their adult children, daughter-in-law and grandchild. They all look like regular, down to earth folks, with a table spread out with your typical Armenian picnic fare: grilled meat... cheese... tomatoes and cucumbers... watermelon... and, of course, vodka. Always vodka. Immediately the grandfather starts piling food on the Traveler's plate and being very insistent that he eat. Whenever the Traveler starts to finish, more food is piled on, to the point the Traveler feels he needs to be grateful, but firm that he is FULL! ... to no avail.
No one speaks English, but this doesn't seem to be a problem. As they find many ways to have “discussions”. Using gestures... showing pictures of family or places... They seem very happy when the Traveler pulls out his guitar and shares some of his songs with them. He isn't quite sure what sort of music he knows that they might connect with and attempts som of his more passionate Spanish songs. This seems to go over quite well.
The grandfather is the more cheerful one, joking—even showing the Traveler some wild plants that you can munch on the stems on the spot. It's a big contrast with the sad, melancholy faces the Traveler has seen along the way to day. And it turns out, the whole family lives here in Meghri Valley. None of the sons have gone to seek greener pastures abroad.
The Traveler looks at the sons. They do seem a bit more tough and hardened. One looks like he is in his mid-thirties and not married. Tooth decay does seem to be an issue. He gets the feeling that this family has experienced some real hardships...
And yet... here they are, having a picnic together... all three generations... It's a heart-warming sight. A wonderful finish to this day that has brought a lot of mixed feelings about this country.
The Traveler decides to call it a day, and accept a ride back to Meghri proper. He tries to invite them all to the nice restaurant for a drink, to be able to reciprocate the hospitality, but they refuse...
And so he enjoys a pleasant evening, with another delicious dinner... another stroll around town... and heads back to his hotel for the night.
He is already liking this travel style: spend the day doing a grueling hike... trudging along a road, wondering what people are thinking of you... then... take a shower, change your clothes and sit down at a nice restaurant, feeling like a new man and a member of “respectable” society. Go to your warm bed, and tomorrow do it all again.
I'm liking this already, he smiles to himself.
Day 3: Hitching a ride with an Iranian Trucker
28.7 kms, June 9, 2021
The next morning the Traveler is off and ready to continue his hike. The plan is to take local transportation to yesterday's stopping point and continue walking from there. However, it doesn't seem like this area has a whole lot of public transportation, so he opts for Plan B: try to hitch a ride. This isn't working to well, as some drivers apologetically gesture that they aren't going very far...
The Traveler spots a tractor trailer that is dropping someone off, so he walks over and to ask for a ride. It's a Iranian truck, but the Traveler reasons with himself... Iranian people are friendly towards Americans... it's just the government that's the problem... right?...
“Kajaran?” he gives the name of the next city after his drop off point. An older balding man nods his head. So the Traveler chucks his backpack and guitar up into the passenger seat, then climbs up in.
And so they are off, rumbling along at a painfully slow speed. When going up hill, the Traveler figures he could walk faster than this. He imagines how tedious it is for this fellow who does this for days and days. “Yerevan?” he asks the driver. The driver nods yes. He's hauling heavy construction equipment and and even though Yerevan is just a couple hundred kilometers, at this pace it's going to take him several days. The Traveler shows the Traveler a hand made map with the name of the main cities along the way. It seems that's all he has to guide him.
“English? French? Arabic? Armenian? Russian?” the Traveler runs through the languages that might be useful to this fellow driving internationally.
“Farsi” is the response, only Farsi. He asks the Traveler where he is from and the Traveler decides to take a gamble and just tell the truth. “American”.
The driver gets a big smile on his face, and gives him a welcoming nod.
The Traveler is touched by the gesture. Suddenly it hits him that this driver very likely experiences personal hardship because of the country the Traveler is from. Due to American sanctions, goods, particularly oil, to and from Iran can't pass through certain cooperating countries. Armenia allows goods to pass through freely, so Iranian truckers have to take this torturously slow mountain route to be able to export their oil. Surely this man has heard in over and over in the media and propaganda how America wants to ruin his country.
And yet... when this Iranian finally meets an American in person, he gives him a welcoming smile. This is a moment the Traveler remembers.
The driver has a a pot of tea beside him and offers the the Traveler a glass. There's a container with sugar cubes but no spoon. After a failed attempt to mix his sugar, the driver shows him how to drink tea “Iranian trucker style”. First: put cube of sugar in mouth, second: drink the tea, letting it get sweetened in your mouth along the way, and voila! Sweet tea, no stirring necessary!
The Traveler wonders what happens if the driver has difficulties along the way, as he doesn't speak any languages spoken her in Armenia. He does notice that there is a camaraderie between Iranians along this route, honking and waving at other drivers. He slows down when he sees another driver stopped to see if he needs any help. They also see a cheering sight: a whole convoy of Iranian tourists in cars, who apparently just set up tents and camped by the side of the road! They appear to be middle class folk, couples, who appear to enjoy this “travel style” that you don't usually see in Middle Eastern cultures. “Roughing it” is not something you do unless you're poor and have no other options. But these Iranians seem to be enjoying a low budget “camping vacation” through Armenia. The driver seems to be humored by the sight as well, as he waves to them.
Finally they reach the Traveler's drop off point, and he tries to pay the driver for the ride. The driver absolutely refuses, another humbling reminder that the Traveler is being treated better than he deserves by a kind Iranian...
Up to the Meghri Pass
Inspired by this encounter, the Traveler continues on. Greeting people you pass on the road isn't really a thing here in Armenia, but the Traveler decides he's going to take in on himself to greet the Iranian truckers he passes, to feel he shares in this camaraderie of foreigners here in Armenia. Sure, he and these Iranians are from countries that are enemies of each other, but here in Armenia, they are all foreigners who don't speak the language of this country.
Sure enough... all the drivers wave back to him...
He climbs higher and higher. He had thought that this 1800 meter climb was going to be exhausting, especially carrying his full gear this time. But he actually feels energetic as the road zigzags higher and higher, giving him a better and better view of the valley he climbed up yesterday... a wooded uninhabited valley continuing a bit farther in the other direction... a view of the mountains behind Lichk, with still clouds always swirling about them... It was a wonderful day and a half spent experiencing the Meghri Valley, but now he his eager to continue on. Here, in the shade of one last tree, the Traveler stops for a break. This time he wisely brought food along, to not go hungry like he did yesterday.
He looks up, and it appears that he could climb straight up to the hillside to where he'll meet up with the highway again, as he sees truck driving back and forth up above, so he sets out to blaze his own trail up the steep grassy slope. But alas... after an exhausting climb, he finds that the trucks he say were taking a dirt road to a quarry somewhere... so he has to head back downhill to reconnect with the road again. A bit of wasted effort, but no big deal, he tells himself.
His weariness is soon forgotten as he sees that the Meghri Pass is right up ahead and the tiresome climb is finally over. Here is a gentle grassy ridge, with a grand panoramic view in all directions.
There's something very special about reaching a mountain pass on foot, the Traveler realizes. First, there's a sense of accomplishment at having made the arduous climb—and the relief knowing it's going to be downhill now. But there's also a sense of closure as you bid farewell to one river valley civilization and hello to another. And here the Traveler gets the sense the his next valley to explore is going to be a very different experience.
Looking back, the Meghri Valley seems a bit wild and untamed. Mostly undisturbed forests along the slopes and only a scattering of hamlets along the way. Up ahead is the Voghji Rive Valley. Here, the mountains are mostly treeless, suggesting humans have had more of an impact on the environment. And directly below, way down the mountainside, the Traveler can already see that there's an actual city with big buildings down there. This gets him excited. He's ready to experience city.
Crossing this pass there are also several rows of high voltage electric lines. Normally this sight might mar the beauty of the environment, but after giving it a little thought, he quickly starts to see these electric lines in a different light: these wires carry electricity from Europe to Asia. From a historic Christian Empire to a historic Muslim Empire. They connect to worlds that many think are sworn enemies of each other, but in reality, there is a lot of cooperation going on.
“Armenia exports electricity to Iran, and they export oil to us” he is later told. These lines continue on in both directions, connecting with other countries like Georgia, Russia, and yes, Azerbaijan in one direction and Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraq in the other. These wires are a reminder that, despite the percieved differences, in this modern world, we are all interconnected, and if the line is severed, everybody loses. So even though there was a war not far from here just a few months ago, and even though Iran is under international sanctions, electricity still continues to flow through this part of the world.
The Traveler takes another moment to soak it all it, takes his official selfie crossing the Meghri Pass, and begins his long descent.
The Prosperous Mining City of Kajaran
It's a fun downhill walk. Through the uninhabited highlands getting a better and better view of the intriguing narrow Voghji Valley below. Cars and trucks take it slow, making the Traveler feel a bit safer. He does get a glimpse of the remains of one car that didn't make it and plunged over the precipice. Along the way there are little shrines dedicated to folks who have died on this route. One of them has a etching of a truck...
One thing the Traveler notices many times in Armenia is that, next to some shrines there might be a shaded picnic table, a water fountain or a pipe bringing spring water out of the mountain. He wonders, is this a way of memorializing the deceased, to leave something that is useful and appreciated by many who pass by?
He finally is able to ask an Armenian, and she confirms this “it's a way to give a message that this person continues to be generous, even after their death. However, this is only done when a man dies, not for a woman” she clarifies. “It does waste a lot of water, though, as the water fountains run constantly”
The Traveler does appreciate this insight into Armenian culture—as well as how this benefits him personally. It definitely cuts down on how much water he has to carry, knowing he will most likely find a water fountain shrine not too far down the road. He agrees that having these fountains turn off when not in use would be a better idea...
He passes an abandoned building. It is covered with graffiti in Arabic script and wonders, is this from Iranian truckers just bored and writing random stuff? Are they venting, criticizing their government? Criticizing Armenia? He takes a picture of it, hoping to get clarification from an Iranian.
Finally he reaches the first outpost of civilization of this valley: a rustic farmhouse with a large garden and crops being grown on the hillside. The Traveler wonders what life is like for these hardy folks—and the drivers crossing this dangerous pass, come wintertime.
But it is not small scale farming that drives the economy of this valley. He reaches a place where whole side of a mountain has been sliced off, with a one dump truck after another hauling rock and dumping it over the edge on this long slope of scree. Further up the narrowing valley, he can see another enormous scar on the mountainside, right below what would otherwise be a beautiful postcard perfect mountain panorama with patches of perennial snow on Mt Kaputjugh.
Normally this scene might trouble the Traveler, seeing the landscape “ruined” by a huge open pit mine. But after his experience yesterday, seeing the semi-abandoned towns of Meghri Valley, hesitates to make a judgement call.
Which is better? He wonders. Beautiful, undisturbed nature where everyone is poor and civilization is crumbling? Or a place with partially disturbed nature, but productive with a sustainable economy that allows people to live decent lives and not have to emigrate elsewhere?
Many people would say the “natural environment” is better. But are these people hypocrites? The Traveler wonders. After all, nature lovers are just as dependant on minerals and metals used to make their tools, cars, computers and endless gadgets that help them enjoy their lives as everyone else. Where do they expect those minerals to come from?
Right next to the mine is the city of Kajaran, just a couple of blocks wide, but very dense, with rows of Soviet style apartment block packing in as many people as it can into a very limited space. The Traveler is actually excited about seeing his first “Soviet-style” city of this Journey. He remembers in his childhood having this image of miserable Soviet folks living in depressing, tiny generic apartment blocks—such a contrast with the “happy lives” folks in the “free world” live...
Now is his chance to start to see if this anti-communism propaganda he was raised with stands up.
Finally the road plunges into the narrow streets of this city, with lumbering Iranian tanker trucks trying to squeeze their way through. The Traveler looks around. Yes, the apartments do look pretty small and shabby, but the streets are alive with people young and old walking about the shady streets... there are plenty of well stocked shops. No abandoned buildings any where. This place is clearly very much alive.
He notices another thing: hardly any old Russian Ladas. Instead you see Mercedezes and Toyotas in decent shape. Clearly the economy here is very different than the other side of the mountain.
Perspective is everything, the Traveler quickly realizes. Had he come to Kajaran straight from some place like Switzerland, he would certainly see this place as poor, depressing and run down. But coming from Meghri Valley, this place might as well be Monaco.
But how does it work? He wonders. He had the idea that, after the Soviet collapse, industry collapsed in the former Soviet republics. Besides, this mining town is in Southern Armenia, which is barely hanging on to the rest of the country by a thread... with Azerbaijan able to cut off its lifeline to the rest of the country at any moment! What is really going on here in Kajaran? He hopes to be able to find someone who can give him some answers.
For now he contents himself with taking a stroll up the main street, resting on a bench next to a pleasant fountain. All around are clusters of older men, just sitting and chatting. But as school is letting out, it becomes clear that this spot is popular with the younger generation as well. He sees a lot of teenagers, dressed up in the latest fashions, joking and chatting together.
A couple blocks up, and he reaches a large modern building, and the entrance to the mining complex. It would be nice to get a closer look at what all is going on here, but it doesn't look like that's going to happen.
There are a couple of small fast food joints along the way, but the Traveler is hoping to find a REAL restaurant—like the one in Meghri to reward himself with a fine, upscale 5 dollar lunch. Sure enough, he reaches a large restaurant with nothing but new SUVs parked outside. He goes inside, knowing he looks really out of place with his scruffy backpack and guitar, but no one seems to notice. At another table is a large group of very well dressed men that make the Traveler think of the Italian Mafia for some reason...
A waiter in a fancy suit brings the Traveler the menu and... sure enough! You can still get a main dish for under 5 US dollars! The Traveler decides to go all out... ordering a smoothie, salad... dessert... and... stewed rabbit for five dollars?! Yeah, I'll take that!
He feels a little guilty as is brought to him what appears to be an entire rabbit in the stew as he's barely able to finish all the food, wondering how this restaurant (and whoever raised that rabbit!) can make a profit with these prices. All in all, his tab is still under 10 US dollars.
Part of him wants to linger here and soak in life in a prosperous Soviet Era mining town. There is an old Soviet hotel (although he later learns it's used to house workers)... but in the end, he decides to continue on down the road and put in a few more hours of walking.
He heads east, as the road follows the Voghji River. Traffic is heavy—it seems much of it is commuter traffic as folks head home from work in the mines to who knows where. Finally Kajaran proper comes to an end and the homes go from apartment blocks to the more typical walled in single homes surrounded by a garden. The village of Lernadzor does still have more of a prosperous feel than the Meghri valley villages though. Following a winding road through this village, a local stops him and says that this isn't a through way—he should go back to the main road. According to Google Maps, there should be a way through this route... but he decides to not argue and go back. It would be pretty embarrassing if it turns out the guy is right...
Dusk is setting in as he continues on. It looks like he's not going to make it to the next town with lodging, Kapan, so he decides to accept the next time a driver offers him a ride, and then come back tomorrow and pick up where he left off.
Sure enough, within minutes three guys in a Russian jeep like vehicle stop, and he hops in.
Supper with the Mine Workers
The driver is a younger, cheerful fellow who speaks decent English. Two older fellows sit in the back. The Traveler is very happy he finally can have a normal conversation with someone.
“You're not afraid to get in the car with us?” the fellow jokes.
“Don't think I need to be afraid of people here in Armenia”! is the Traveler's response.
“Oh, I pick up tourists walking a lot” the driver says, “I still can't figure out though: why, if you come from a country where you can be so comfortable, you guys choose difficulty? Like walking instead of riding?”
“Maybe because, if someone experiences to much comfort and ease, they get bored and life starts to lose its meaning, so you look for pain and difficulty to try to make your life exciting again”.
The driver accepts that explanation. Then it's the Travelers turne to ask questions. “So do you work for the mining company?”
“Yes, we come from Yerevan to work here”
To go from the country's capital to a a mining town in the middle of the mountains to work?! This is very intriguing. It's almost always the other way around...
“I see a lot of nice cars here. So is the pay good here?”
“Yes, the pays is quite good. There is a shortage of housing in Kajaran. A lot of people commute from Kapan and other towns—even from Meghri”
The Traveler wants to figure out a way to ask why people are paid well here... since paying workers well doesn't seem to be the norm here in Armenia. “I've seen that a lot of industry from the Soviet times has been abandoned. How is it that this mine has kept running?”
“It was abandoned for a couple years after independence. Then it was privatized and started again. A German company invested in this mine and part of their conditions was that the workers be well paid here.”
Hmmm... very interesting clue here. So... foreign meddling in order to gain influence over a mine and local resources can actually... make people's lives better than they would be otherwise? This is a very interesting and counterintuitive thought. Suddenly this mine that has created a pocket of middle class folks in an otherwise quite poor country overall takes on a whole new meaning.
“So did you guys move here with your families?” the Traveler asks.
“No, our familes stayed behind. I guess it makes it more of an adventure—to be far from your family”.
The Traveler suddenly realizes that they have veered off of the road to Kapan and are going to up a quiet side valley. “First were going to stop and have some supper before we go to Kapan” the Traveler is informed.
This is what he will dub an “Armenian kidnapping”. It's when you hitch a ride and you get taken to someone's house against your will to be fed a meal before you're taken to where you want to go. As kidnappings go, the Traveler finds he kind of likes the Armenian style kidnapping the best...
The reach a large house. This is where the two older guys live. “I like to live in the city” the driver says. “here you don't get good internet access”.
Here there's a meal waiting for them. They fellows hire a local lady to clean and cook for them, so they can have a hot dinner when they arrive. The Traveler is served a bowl of delicious soup along with lavash, a flat bread that reminds the Traveler of a Mexican flour tortilla.
The subject—as very often happens here in Armenia—turns to politics and the conflict with Azerbaijan. But unlike many others, the driver doesn't express hatred for Azerbaijani people. “I don't have anything against the people. If I met someone from Azerbaijan, I would treat him like anyone else. It's their government and it's propaganda that's the problem.”
The fellows express discontent with the way their government handled the situation and are hoping that the upcoming snap election will bring about a change. “if we continue with the same president things are going to get worse”.
The Traveler gets the feeling that, while people are joking, working, eating and living their lives in this region, deep down there's a real feeling of uncertainty as they have no idea what the future holds for their region and country. No one pretends that, even with the Russian brokered ceasefire, the problem has been solved and isn't going to get worse in the future.
All it would take would be for the Azeris to set up one roadblock on a stretch of highway that they already control, and Kajaran, the mine, and all the people who work here would pretty much be cut off from the rest of the country. This surely must be weighing heavily on people's minds here.
Finally, the “kidnapping” ends and the Traveler is given a ride the rest of the way to Kapan, where he bids his new friend farewell... and settles in for the night.
It's been a very interesting 3rd day here in the mountains of Southern Armenia.
Day 4: Down the Voghji Valley
32.2 kms, June 10, 2021
The next day the Traveler has no problems catching a ride back up to yesterday's stopping point. A young bearded fellow in a very nice car picks the Traveler up almost immediately. “I love America!” is his enthusiastic response as soon as he tells the Traveler where he is from. This fellow, who also works for the mining company, seems to be above middle class and has gone on vacation to Russia as well as Western Europe.
“I hope to make it to America someday!” he says.
The Traveler re-starts where he stopped yesterday. Here, the Voghji Valley soon narrows into a beautiful rugged gorge, with stunning cliffs as a backdrop along the way. Around a turn, atop a boulder is the statue of a bear with a key ring in its mouth, a symbol of this region.
With the heavy traffic, the Traveler is eager to get off the main highway as soon as there's an opportunity, and get a little sidetracked on the way, since there's no rush for him to reach Kapan. Soon he finds an opportunity. A side road points him towards one of Armenia's many historic monasteries, a good ways up the steep slope to the south.
Looks like fun, he figures. Let's go explore a monastery
Immediately the noise of the highway is left behind and he finds himself in a quiet forest. There are a scattering of country homes, and a beautiful little waterfall from a side stream tumbling down from the mountainside. Further up, he can see a sheer wall of rock that stands between this valley and the valley where he was just 2 days ago. Among the trees he gets his first glimpse of the Vahanavank Monastery, isolated from the rest of the world.
Vahanavank Monastery
Monasteries have always intrigued the Traveler. Typically, it seems, religion—particularly the Christian faith--is about mass control, and setting up rules to be imposed on general society. But the monastic side of historic Christianity seems to go in the opposite way: allowing and even encouraging the truly devout to isolate themselves from society.
What is it really all about? Why has Christianity encouraged this? the Traveler has often wondered. He hopes that on his travels through Europe he will find some answers.
Often the locations of these monasteries is not coincidental. They are often built upon the ruins of previous religious sites, places considered sacred by the masses, easing the transition from paganism to paganism with a Christian facade. This site is not exception, built over a Bronze Age grave site. The Traveler later reads that it was here that in the tenth century a prince, Vahan Nakhashinogh, decided to become a monk to try to cure himself of demon possession. He was joined by another 100 clerics and built the first church here.
But as the Traveler approaches this site, he doesn't here prayers or religious chanting. Instead he hears loud music being played, as it seems this area is also a popular picnic site for the locals. He follows a trail up to the church, and it's not until he gets inside that he feels the solemnity of this place and here a recording or religious music is being played. No one else seems to be coming here as a religious pilgrimage right now, so the Traveler has the site to himself. He wonders if this is a sign that Armenians aren't as religious as he thought, or just a coincidence.
Back outside, as he climbs up to the platform of another structure, he is joined by two teenage fellows. They are well dressed and respectable, and seem eager to chat despite their limited English. Both say they their fathers work for the mining company—and they also enjoy vacationing abroad (and came here in a nice car), another reminder of the prosperity that this mine has brought to the region.
A pleasant encounter... but the Traveler can't say that his visit to this monastery was a deeply moving or insightful experience. Perhaps the folks playing loud music nearby was kind of disconcerting—although, in his opinion, folks coming and enjoying music and time with family is more meaningful than a religious pilgrimage...
An Armenian version of the Battle of Thermapylae
A few kilometers further, according to Google Maps, is another side road up the mountainside the leads to a castle, Halidzor Fortress. The Traveler figures he has enough time to take another detour, so he goes to check it out. But soon he starts to wonder if this is a good idea, as the road is actually a path that seems to have been forgotten long ago. Still he continues, after a local confirms that, yes, “Halidzor” is up ahead. The map says that the path zigzags up the mountainside, so the Traveler figures he can take a shortcut up through the dense folliage. Once again, it turns out to be a wasted effort, and he gives up and goes back to the main road.
Finally the view opens up and he gets a a glimpse of the city of Kapan, far below on the floor of the Voghji Valley. Right above him is fortress of Halidzor. This time, he is all alone at this seemingly forgotten site.
This fortress feels more like a walled in religious compound than a fortress. It has several chapels on several levels. And not a whole lot of focus on sturdy defenses. Turns out, he's partially right. This was originally a nunnery that was turned into a family fortress in the 17th century.
Then, in the 1720s, a battle was fought here, which the Traveler later reads about. A battle that sound so improbable that it rivals the legendary battle of the 300 Spartans versus the Persian horde. He is surprised that this battle is not better known—or that this site isn't better preserved, as this battle seems to have been a pivotal point in Armenian history.
First, the Traveler has to go back a bit further to understand the history of Armenia.
For hundreds of years “Armenia” was a large empire that expanded and contracted across the Caucasus and what is now Eastern Turkey. It fought and sometimes cooperated with the great empires such as the Romans, Persians and other.
But from the 1500s to the early 1700s, Armenia was between a rock and a hard place as it found itself sandwiched between two very ambitious and ruthless empires: the Ottoman and the Safavid Persians. Each took their turns sweeping across this region, leaving destruction in their wake as the jostled back and forth, back and forth. In under 200 years, the city of Yerevan changed hands 14 times.
Generally the Armenians were treated better by the Persians than by the Ottomans, but in 1722, the Safavid Empire was coming to an end. An Armenian by the name of Davit Bek had initially been opposing the Persian overlords. But he then realized that, with the Safavid-Persian empire ending, it was the Ottomans he needed to worry about.
It was here, at this fortress that he had 300 soldiers (yep, the magical number 300), held off against 70,000 Ottomans for seven days. Then, running short on food, they set out on a suicidal charge against their attackers.
The story goes, that this caused panic and confusion in the Ottoman ranks, who assumed a lot more soldiers were coming after them then there were. They tried to flee through the thick forest, and 13,000 of them were slaughtered.
Unlike the similar battle in in Sparta, milleniums before, the Armenians won this battle, and Davit went on to rule this region, and is the symbol of Armenian independence to this day—with many, many Armenians still naming their sons “Davit”.
But did he really liberate Armenia? The Traveler reads that he was actually appointed as a vassal, and was still under Persian rule. This was clearly a better option than being under Ottoman rule, but it doesn't really sound like “independence”. In fact, Armenia continued to be divided between Persian and Ottoman rulers for another 100 years before it was finally liberated...
Uh... except that being “liberated” means that they would be under Russian rule for pretty much the next 160 years...
The Traveler gets more and more confused as he reads and wonders... What is Armenia, really? Is it a vast, powerful empire that just went through a 800 year “rough patch”? Is is a weak culture that is constantly being pushed around by the Great Empires that surround it? Is it a brand new country that only came into existence 30 years ago? Or is it more of a cultural identity that is shared by eleven million people scattered around the world, only a fraction of which live in actual “Armenia”?
The Traveler is eager to learn more... to learn more of actual facts, as well as learn of the “story” that Armenians tell themselves about who they are. As the great historian, Yuval Harari, explains, all cultures and nations around the world tell “stories” about themselves that is fact mixed with myth. And these fictional stories are necessary in order for people to cooperate with each other in large groups.
But not all stories are helpful. Some can be very destructive. So is the standard Armenian “story” they tell themselves helpful or harmful? The Traveler hopes to learn more.
One thing seems to be clear: Davit Bek's lopsided victory over the Ottomans does seem to have left a lasting imprint on the Armenian “story”. It seems to have given them a sense that they might seem weak, but they are a tough people and able to fight against forces far greater than them. Much like the Jewish myth of David vs the Philistines, the story of Davit vs the Ottomans seems to have had a lasting impact right up to this day.
Well... until last year, at least. When Armenia suffered a devestating loss against the Azeris backed by Turkey (yeah, those guys again...) Now, the Traveler suspects Armenians are faced with a painful choice of either sticking to their “Davit vs Goliath” story... or coming up with a new one.
The City of Kapan
The Traveler makes his way back down the trail, and into the city of Kapan. This city is just a few hundred meters wide, but 11 kilometers long as it follows the banks of the Voghji River with a mix of traditional houses and rows of apartment blocks. It's a pleasant walk, except for one little incident: a young boy follows the Traveler asking for money. This is the only time the Traveler experiences this in Armenia, so it's clearly not part of the culture. Almost all children that he passes are very respectable and well mannered. This boy keeps following him and even touches at his pockets. The Traveler turns around and very sternly tells him to leave, and he does.
Rather than making him feel unsafe, this incident reminds the Traveler how nice it is to have this experience be so rare. In other parts of the world he would have to be constantly on the alert, knowing there's always a thief lurking around somewhere. But not here in Armenia. He has never felt unsafe around anyone here—nor will he during this entire trip.
Why is that? He wonders. This is a country with a lot of poverty... with a lot of young men who have surely been traumatized by the horrors of war—who are quite willing and ready to kill. A country where there's a lot of anger.
And yet... the Traveler feels very, very safe here. Why is that? He hopes to finds some answers before the end.
He
finally reaches the heart of Kapan, where there are several pleasant
parks—even a mini functional amusement part... a dramatic statue of
David Bek goinng full speed atop a galloping horse. More nice
restaurants and a high rise, decent hotel for 10 dollars a night.
Yep... I am going to enjoy my stay here. The Traveler tells
himself. He is even tempted to extend his stay for a couple of
days... just chilling out, and soaking it all in.
But he feels the hike through Armenian is too young. He needs to earn it before he can allow himself a longer break. Tomorrow he will head up over another mountain range or two to a whole new river valley civilization. And that one might be the most fascinating of them all.
Day 5: The Road Less Taken
43.6 kms June 11, 2021
According to the map, there are two “highways” to get from Kapan to the rest of the country. One highway runs right along what used to be the border of Armenia and the Armenian controlled region of Artsakh. But now Artsakh has been taken over by Armenia's arch-rival Azerbaijan, so that highway actually run next to and sometimes inside what is now de jure and de facto Azerbaijan.
With the Russian brokered ceasefire, Armenians can still drive through that stretch of road, but they are told NOT TO STOP during the 9 kilometer stretch when they are inside of Azerbaijan. The Traveler has already passed through that road on his way down to start his hike. It was surreal experience to see the sign “Welcome to Azerbaijan” in Azeri and English, and to realize the van is driving right across an international border between two countries that have been at war for 30 years!
Knowing the anger and tension that is still very palpable, he got the sinking feeling that this conflict is not over, and something bad is going to happen on this stretch of road any day.
Now the Traveler is hiking back north, and it's pretty obvious that he should not take that route on foot. The Azeris partrolling that stretch are most likely not going to appreciate the value of his “continuous uninterrupted hike” through Armenia.
Fortunately, there is another route, a “highway” that zigzags north of Kapan through the mountains and over to the famous clifftop monastery of Tatev. This seems like the obvious choice for his hike. But as he will soon learn, this “highway” turns into a narrow, windy dirt road, certainly not suitable for all the truck coming from the mines and from Iran. The road through Azerbaijan really is the only link connecting south Armenia with the rest of the country.
So the Traveler sets out, happy to be getting away from the busy highway and following this quiet backroad. The road climbs higher and higher along a stream that is carrying tan colored water. At first the Traveler assumes this is just pollution from the villages, but no... there is actually another, smaller, open pit mine high up the slopes and the stream is carrying soil that is being washed away.
The Traveler reaches the pit, and again, doesn't feel bothered by this big hole in the mountainside. Mining is a essential part of this modern world... and yes...it is going to damage the environment, he tells himself. This is the reality of the world he lives in.
Right above the mine is the village of Kavart, which goes back to that shabby, rugged feel of the villages of the Meghri Valley. He wanders up the twisted dirt alleys, gazing back down at Kapan and the Voghji Valley behind him... the up over a pass... a soaks in a whole new panorama.
Up ahead is one hill followed by another followed by another, with a handful of villages dotting them. There's a very different feel to this region. Here, there are no trucks rumbling through, hauling goods from one continent to another. Here it's just local folks living their lives, seeming isolated from the world outside.
The Traveler heads down on a dirt road winding down along the hillside to the bottom where a blonde, sunburned woman is taking her couple of cows to pasture. He tries to imagine what her life must be like. By her looks—and the looks of her run down house nearby, it appears to be a pretty tough life.
It's hot, and now it's another uphill climb... then down again... then up again to the next village Arachadzor. Here, as in many villages in Armenia, you will see abandoned government buildings, adding to the feeling of abandon to this towns. Later the Traveler learns that it's not so much that these villages have been “abandoned” but rather they've been consolidated, making these government offices redundant. Sometimes he will see people living in these buildings and he wonders if they might be refugees displaced by the war it Artsakh.
Two old men are sitting on a bench and they ask the Traveler where he's going. “Nerkin Khotanan” he gives them the name of the next village of the road. As usual, the man speaks to him in Russian and seems to be telling him that he's going the wrong way, and he needs to go back the way he came. Again, the Traveler decides to trust a local rather than Google Maps, thanks him and turns around...
Should I count a place like this as a “town”, wonders the Traveler, or go with the new centralized government system that has “de-towned” places like this? After giving it some thought, he comes to the conclusion that village like Arachadzor have unique histories and culture. Even though they may be stowly dying, they still should count as a “town” in his book. So in a shady spot overlooking the valley below, he pulls out his guitar, dedicating a concert to this place. Below him is a small farm, with a house, some animals... a couple of acres of crops being cultivated.
“A hundred years ago, this family would've been considered lucky to have this patch of fertile land with access to water... safe and undisturbed by the rest of the world” the Traveler muses. “Nowadays these people are considered unfortunate...”
He continues on... down into the valley... then up through Nerkin Khotaran that feels just too abandoned to count as a “town”... Here the road follows a rising ridge, with a beautiful panoramic view. To the east, the valley and the final mountains between Armenia and Azerbaijan controlled territory. To the west: another valley, barely disturbed by man, with towering mountains rising with patches of snow on their slopes. Gazing in all directions really gives the Traveler the feeling that he is in some remote frontier, far, far away from an hub of civilization.
Fortunately not too far away. In his next village, Vernin Khotanan, there is a shop that is open, and he figures he'd better stock up on food. At his last shop, he got a bag of locally make cookies that turned out to be moldy, so this time he's going to stick to factory made stuff.
But the cheerful middle aged shopkeeper isn't content with him just being a customer. Seeing his guitar, she insists that he play a song for her and her family, inviting him inside and preparing coffee, sweets and apricots. The Traveler plays a song... then another... In their faces he can see that, while they don't understand the words, they are totally connecting with his music. Here, in this shop in a forgotten hillside village of South Armenia, he feels like a rock star.
The only glitch is technology. The shopkeeper isn't very familiar with using her smartphone and struggles to get the video to work. The Traveler tries to help, with limited success...
more folks come in to join the party. An old lady whose back is so bent she walks looking at the ground... a younger fellow, who speaks some English joins as well. He looks more like a city guy who perhaps is just here in his native village on vacation...
It's a very special experience, and the Traveler doesn't want to cut it short. As long as folks eagerly want to listen, he wants to keep playing. He gives then a full length concert before finally continuing on his way.
The Meadow
From Vernin Khotanan, the road winds up the mountainside higher and higher to what looks like another pass. Reaching the top the Traveler gazes back to the Okhtar Valley. It's been a brief but very special visit to this isolated corner of the world.
Then, over the ridge, the landscape changes completely. Thick, undisturbed forest of tall trees. So thick he has a hard time getting the gist of the landscape. He also wonders, have a crossed a watershed into a new river basin? All of Armenia is part of the Kura River Basin, which drains almost all of the Caucasus Region. But there are, of course, many important tributary basins that he is looking forward to exploring. So far, he's walked along the Aras, the Meghri... the Voghji... the Okhtar Stream which flows into the Voghji...
Later he figures out that, yes, crossing this ridge he has now entered the Vorotan Basin, perhaps the most fascinating of them all with a lot of ancient civilization to discover.
But none of that is visible here. Just forest. And when he reaches the valley floor, he is surprised to find a grassy meadow that seems to be undisturbed as well. No cattle grazing... No farmhouses... Just nature.
He wonders, why? Is it the isolation? Have people moved elsewhere? Harsh weather? Sure someone, at some time in history has seen this valley and thought “this would be a perfect place to grow food and raise some livestock”.
Finally he does reach the village of Tandzaver and fields that look like they're being grazed. A bleak, abandoned feel to this place, with some of the houses crumbling. Here, according to Google Maps, there's supposed to be a guesthouse of some sort, but the Traveler sees no sign of it. He continues on, not sure what to do. There aren't many hours of daylight left, and he's still a long ways from Tatev.
He passes through a rugged gorge... then another run down village of Aghvani. Here he notice a slightly disturbing juxtoposition: across, in a wooded area, a group of picnickers are playing games and blaring music so loud you can hear it all across the valley. This area does seem to be a place where folks from more urban areas come and enjoy a Sunday picnic out in the “wild”. But the Traveler can't help but wonder how the locals feel about this, as he sees an old village man trudging along behind his cows. For him, life in Aghvani is clearly no picnic.
The Traveler does see one young fellow here, a teenage boy driving a tractor. The Traveler wonders how long this guy is going to stick around in this dying farm village.
One Last Pass
p ahead, it looks like a windy road into the wilderness up to yet another pass. The Traveler calculates that if he really pushes himself, he should be able to get to Tatev. It'll be dark, but there is plentiful lodging there. Hopefully guesthouse owners won't all be in bed by then. He knows he could just camp out... but he hasn't had a proper meal all day and would really like to finish off this day enjoying the comforts of civilization.
So he follows the road as hit climbs higher and higher up the grassy slopes, taking shortcuts wherever he can... Until finally it up, over the ridge... and into another valley.
Here he gets his first glimpse of what looks like are massive cliffs rising above a squeeze through canyon. This is the Vorotan Gorge... and he is really looking forward to experiencing it.
He also comes across something else: an actual hiking trail. Apparently he's not the only one who has thought of hiking through this area. This trail will take him to a village way at the bottom of the valley, then up to Tatev on the other side.
The Traveler eagerly starts to follow it, eager to have the “trail experience” and show appreciation for whoever marked this route. He hasn't met a single tourist so far and wonders how much this trail gets put to use.
The problem is, it's getting late, and this is clearly not a trail to be followed in the dark. Even in daylight, he gets lost several times, following a random cowpath instead of the trail. So he reluctantly heads back to following the road once again.
Down, down, into valley... zigzagging along the steep mountainside. Here, some work is being done on the road. The Traveler read that Armenia's president wants this route to be improved so the country isn't dependant on the highway that cuts through Azebaijan. But it's clearly a long ways away from having that happen.
And finally the Traveler sees it: Just as dusk is setting in, there it is: the iconic Tatev Monastery, perched right at the lip of a cliff overlooking the majestic Vorotan Canyon. Yes, he is very glad he chose this route. This is going to be an amazing place to explore.
But right now he has other priorities: finish the winding road to the village of Tatev, right behind the monastery... find a place to sleep... and hopefully get something to eat.
It's late when he reaches the village where, according to Google, it should be dotted with guesthouses. So he assumes Tatev is a touristy place with lots of eateries as well. But no... it's just a sleepy village without a single restaurant to be seen.
He does find a shop that's open with a sign that it's also a guesthouse, and he asks the shopkeeper about this. Sure enough, he's taken inside, through a large garden to a very well maintained and decorated house. Definitely worth the extra walking in the dark to get here.
He gestures that he'd like some supper as well, and his hostess agrees, improvising to serve him a nice supper of stew with cheese, bread and vegetables from the garden....
And so, this very long day of hiking over 3 mountain passes comes to an end...
Day 6: Waking up in Real Armenia
21.1 kms, June 12, 2021
The Traveler wakes up to an inspiring view. He gazes out his window to a rose and vegetable gardan, with a snow speckled mountains as a backdrop. His hostes is already at work, watering and tending to the garden.
“Yeah... I”m REALLY experiencing Armenia now!” The Traveler smiles. He really likes this hospitality-business combination where he does get treated in some ways as a guest, but at the same time he's paying money, so he knows his visit is financially beneficial to this family, rather than just being an expense.
It appears there's been a push to help village families set up their homes as guesthouses for tourists. It seems they take a course of some sort to know what kind of expectations there are, and this lady has a plaque on the wall telling that she took that course. Clearly she's invested a good bit in fixing up her house to be a suitable guesthouse, with indoor bathroom, hot water and nice decor.
Seems like a good idea. Much better than having a hotel where employees have to sit day after day waiting for customers that may or may not arrive. Here, if no one shows up, the lady has plenty of back up plans to be able to make a living. A large garden... a store... who knows what other things she has going on on the side. The Traveler figures that somebody from this household has made money elsewhere to be able to fix up the house so nice. It's a start contrast to the villages he passed through yesterday, where it seems some people still rely strictly on farming.
Later, while hiking through the Alps, he will observe this same sort of thing again. In Austria it's called the “Four Legged Table Concept”: a table needs four legs to stand up. Folks living in the mountains need four sourced of income in order to prosper. And that seems to be the case in this him.
The Traveler does only see three older ladies here, so he isn't sure what the family makeup here actually is.
He sets out to explore the village, which seems like a very typical Armenian farm village—except here no one sees it strange to see a foreigner walking around, in fact several folks approach him asking if he needs a place to stay. Despite this being at the TOP of a cliff, there is some farming going on here, although the flat areas are quite limited.
But doing a bit a reading about this place, the Traveler learns that Tatev is much more than just a farm village or a tourist site. This little village on a clifftop might actually be described as the “heart” of Armenia. According to Wikipedia, Tatev was once the “center of economic, political, spiritual and cultural activity”.
This sounds quite odd, looking at the landscape. Three mountain passes to the south. Towering mountains to the west. A deep gorge coming from the north, then veering to the east.
How could such an inaccessible place be the “center” of anything? The Traveler wonders.
He reads more. As is typical for Armenian monasteries, the choice of the location was not coincidental: this was originally a pagan temple site that was re-purposed. A church was built here, and it became the seat of the bishop of Syunik, this region of present day South Armenia. You would think that it's location would make it invulnerable from attacks, but no... in th 11th century it was destroyed by a neighboring emirate... then in the 12th century it was attacked by the Seljuk Turks, who destroyed some 10,000 manuscripts. The monastery was rebuilt, but then looted and burned during Timur's ruthless campaign in the 14th centruy... then again by Shah Rukh in 1434... again by the Persians...
But it was the Russians, who supposedly “liberated” Armenia, that finally took brought Tatev's legacy to an end, not by destroying it, but simply by absorbing it into the Diocese of Yerevan in 1836. Nowadays, it seems Tatev is not much more than a tourist attraction without much clout in the nation as a whole.
In between invasions, the Traveler reads, culture flourished here. In the 14th and 15th century this site hosted one Armenia's most important universities of the time with “advancements in science, religion, philosophy, reproduction of books and miniature paintings” he reads. “Scholars here contributed to the preservation of Armenian culture and creed during on of its most turbulent times.”
The Traveler ponders on this for a bit. He feels that this might offer an important clue the Armenia of today.
Most major European civilizations, during medieval times were built around seaports and navegable rivers. The foundation of these civilizations was trade and commerce. For Armenia, it seems, it was more about survival. Trying to not get wiped out—as many other cultures of this part of the world were.
In part due to this being the fault line between the most ambitious and ruthless empire of its time... In part due to it being one of the last major Christian kingdoms surrounded by Muslim kingdoms... and probably other factors as well, Armenia spent much of the 2nd millenium AD, just trying to survive. So its understandable that their “center of culture” would be this isolated clifftop natural fortress—that still managed to get invaded multiple times, but never was wiped out.
Suddenly, this makes the Traveler wonder... how much of this still affects the way of thinking of Armenians today? Do they still have this “Fortress-survivalist” mentality?
Look at Europe. Mostly you see open borders. Between Serbia and Bosnia. Between Turkey and Greece. Turkey and Bulgaria. Hungary and Slovakia. Countries where there are a lot of people hate the other and have deep historical grievances towards each other. And yet, they're pragmatic enough to realize that they're better off keeping their borders open because free movement of goods is essential in order to prosper.
Then look at Armenia. The border with Turkey is closed. The border with Azerbaijan is closed. Only the short borders with Iran and Georgia are open, and you've got to go through a lot of mountains to get to these. An observer might say, “there's no way you can prosper by being this isolated”. But Armenians might subconsciously feel “hey, we've made it this long by isolating ourselves. Why stop now?”
The Traveler starts to feel he can understand them better, looking at the history of Tatev. But he still is very skeptical as to how this is going to work.
He heads down to the monastery itself. To his surprise, there is no entry fee—and just a couple of tourists around. Most of the people inside, it seems, have come to pray.
Inside the walled compound are several buildings built in typical Armenian style. The main church is small in area, but with a tall tower, and walls of lart cut rock, with light streaming in from the east above the chancel. There are a couple of parishioners and a bearded priest in long black robe conducting the religious service. To a visitor, there is definitely an air of mystery to this place.
The Traveler sets out to explore the other buildings, where he wanders passages ways that sometimes lead to a dim, hidden room... or maybe to a balcony overlooking the gorge, far far below. He tires to decipher the purpose of these rooms, aware that this was once a very important place, now not being used much at all. Another room houses a small collection of ancient religious artifacts that survived Tatev's many lootings...
Outside the compound, there are other stone buildings. A sign says these were workshops, as Tatev was a place of economic activity, not just religion. And further up is another very, very different sort of structure.
It's called “Wings of Tatev” and this “historical structure”'s history goes all the way back to 2010, when, this project to build the longest non-stop double track cable car in the world was finished. It spans 5.7 kilometers between Tatev and Halidzor on the other side of the gorge.
It is an impressive site. But the Traveler is a bit skeptical. Part of him wants to celebrate this 22 million dollar engineering feat here in Southern Armenia, the first big “new thing” he's seen in on this trip. But... after 4 days of walking along really bad roads, he does have to question if this really should be the priority at this time. He wonders if those 22 million dollars have been or will be recovered...
Obviously, as he's doing a “continous hike”, using a cable car as transportation is out of the question. He does consider just riding it and coming back again. But due to lack of tourists, it isn't running very often, and he does kind of want to keep up the pace with his hiking... so he reluctantly decides to give it a pass.
He heads back to his guesthouse, where a wonderful Armenian breakfast has been laid out for him... thanks his hostess and continues on his way.
A Real Monastery
Down the mountain it does look like the Traveler will have the chance to enjoy a real trail for a change, as it zigzags down the steep mountainside into the Vorotan Gorge. Here, the Traveler does manage to lose the trail again, as there are goat alternate goat paths and paths to old orchard along the way. It turns out well, because his “wrong path” leads him back underneath the monastery where he is pleased to discover: there's a waterfall coming up from underneath the monastery!
He gets back to the trail and continues down, down... and spots something else: what looks like an old castle at the bottom of the valley. When he reaches the bottom, he finds that it is the ruins of a walled in compound of sorts, but the entrances have been barricaded or still have their original iron gates. He does manage to clamber over the ruins of one wall... but it doesn't get him very far. He notices that there's a hose coming out of one of the gates, which is odd. It does seem that something's going on in there. Being used as a sheep pen by a local farmer, perhaps?
Finally he decides to make to full loop around, just to make sure. He finds another gate and pushes... with a very loud creak, it opens! I have conquered the castle!
He goes inside and... suddenly realizes he is not alone. A brown robed bearded man is standing there looking at him. Immediately the Traveler knows what this place is: this is a real monastery, not like the has been touristy ones he's seen so far. He sees a garden. He sees clothes hanging up to dry. This guy is a monk, living the way monks used to: growing his own food and relying on himself as much as possible. He looks like a relic from another era.
The Traveler is thrilled by this discovery—and a little embarrassed at having just tresspassed into this fellow's home. He waves apologetically and says “tourist”, as if that should give him a free pass to tresspass.
The monk waves back, and says “no English”. He doesn't seem upset.
So the Traveler decides to push his luck and give the “can I look around?” gesture. The monk nods, then walks over to what appears to be the remains of a chapel, where he rings a bell, goes inside and starts chanting.
The Traveler walks around a little, soaking it all in, and imagining what this guy's life is like. Then he goes out the creaking gate... bidding farewell to this little bubble of existence... and continues on his way.
Devil's Bridge
The Traveler heads north following the trail, looking for a way to get up the other side of the 500 meter gorge. Here the other side is a sheer cliff. But first things first: he needs to take a swim in the river, his first proper swim of this hike. Here the water is clean, plentiful and not too fast flowing. He finds a good spot and enjoys the most refreshing dip he's had in a long time.
He continues on upstream until he reaches the bridge where the Tatev road crosses the gorge. But there's a sign saying there's another bridge called “Devil's Bridge” directly upstream. But here the gorge narrows to the point that it's barely visible. The Traveler knows he's got to see what this is about. He follows a path and... sure enough... this “bridge” is a natural one—more of a tunnel as the river rushes through a fascinating cave completely with stalagtites and stalagmites.
Amazing rock formations... a river... a cliffs... these are all the things the Traveler loves, and he tries to get a better view of this fascinating site. The trail ends without offering a proper view. For that, it looks like you need to use a series of cables to climb down to the river, and jump from one boulder to another. A couple of teenage boys are already doing this. Some others are goofing off in the some artificial pools built into the side of the cliff.
The Traveler knows he really wants to climb to the bottom, but he knows he can't do it safely with his guitar and backpack. Should I risk it? He wonders. Yes, all Armenians he's met so far have been honest. But does that mean I can just leave all my belongings with a bunch of teenagers and climb down a cliff?
Finally he decides he's going to do it... makes his way down... jumps from one boulder to another... gazes into this amazing hole water has carved through the petrified lava of this gorge... then decides he'd better not push his luck and climbs back once again.
Unforgettable experience. This is turning out to be a day unlike any other.
Night atop the Vorotan Gorge
The Traveler continues on his way, following the road as it cuts back and forth up the side of the gorge. Now Tatev Monastery is just a little dot far up on the other side. Here, he comes across a restaurant with outdoor tables and figures he deserves nice meal. Again, this restaurant offers all kinds of delicacies for a decent price. The Traveler decides to go with the walnut salad wrapped in strips of eggplant.
He continues on, sometimes taking a little sidetrail that with take him to a lookout with a stunning view of the gorge. Vorotan is not as deep as the Grand Canyon, but factoring in all the things he has discovered today—plus the element of the unexpected... and this has to be one of the most amazing “canyon experiences” in the world.
He reaches a hotel as he approaches the village of Halidzor. He hasn't covered a lot of distance today, but, after giving it some thought, he figures, why rush it? Why not spend a night that overlooks this amazing site?
And so he does. He grabs som supper, gazing down into the canyon. The hotel is almost empty, giving the Traveler a bit more depressing feeling about tourism in this region than he had yesterday at the guesthouse. Then he on a stroll around the village of Halidzor. Despite this being a “touristy” area, it still feels like a basic farming village—although the Traveler can't quite figure out where they farm, since the village is built on a shelf, with a steep mountainside above and a cliff below.
An old man and his wife are sitting on a bench by the side of the road. They invite the Traveler to join them. He's a cheerful old fellow who, it appears, has spent his life working hard in these mountains. Again, the Traveler finds himself having a “gesture conversation” about family... travel... showing pictures of the places he's been to... meeting some of the neighbors...
And finally heading back to his hotel room to calls it a night.
Day 7: The Macchu Picchu of Armenia
14.3 kms, June 13, 2021
Not far from the hotel is a sign that says there is a hiking trail down into the gorge to “Old Halidzor”. It looks like it will be a good bit longer than just following the road, but the next morning the Traveler decides that this is the route he will take. He knows he doesn't want his hike through Armenia to just be a “get from Point A to Point B” hike. He wants to get sidetracked from time to time when interesting things pop up. And an old town halfway down a gorge does seem to fit the bill.
So the next morning he is up before sunrise, soaking in the amazing view one last time of this magnificent work of nature. Then he backtracks down the road. Down below, he can see an old man leading a donkey up the rustic trail. For a moment the Traveler feels like he is back in Morocco, wandering the wild High Atlas Mountains.
He heads down the trail as it zigzags down steep side of the canyon. Other than that one man, there doesn't seem to be much activity going on down this way. It becomes clear that “Old Halidzor” is going to be an abandoned village.
And then... there it is. At first it's just a wall of uncut stone, but clambering up the slope again, he sees an entire village with some houses actually built half buried in the mountainside. Some structures are pretty basic—perhaps just sheep pens, but others are well built. There's a still working pipe bringing spring water through a stone slab with writing engraved on it. Clearly a lot of effort was put into the construction and preservation of this village.
But why? The Traveler wonders. Why built a village on the steep side of a gorge? At the top of a gorge, with access to flat land makes sense... at the bottom, if there's flat area near the river, that makes sense... but why halfway down?
Is it for defensive purposes? He wonders. If an enemy were to attack, they would probably come from above. The attackers would have the advantage of gravity, being able to roll down rocks on the defenders. So it doesn't seem like that would work to well.
The Traveler wonders if maybe the idea is that, a passing army would see this village, and figure it just wasn't worth their trouble to climb down the canyon just to invade one little village. Live somewhere nobody else wants to live... and people will let you be... that might be a theory...
He comes to a church. There's a wooden plank holding the door closed. The Traveler assumes it's meant to keep animals, not humans out, so he moves it and goes inside.
There's a eerie mystery to this place. Leaning against the walls are ancient looking engraved slabs with intricate carving and lettering. Surely they have some historical value. And there are couple of religious pictures set up and candles, showing that, while the village might be abandoned, people still find meaning in coming back to pray at the church of their ancestors.
The Traveler also notices that the church is built in the more typical rectangular style of more western European churches, not the typical Armenian style with a central octagonal tower. He wonders if this church might actually pre-date the adoption of that style...
Overall there's a feeling of having discovered some intriguing clues into the past of this region. Yes, this was definitely a very worthwhile “sidetrack” hike.
The Traveler continues on. Supposedly this trail will lead him to yet another “old village” along the gorge, then he'll have the option of heading back to the top, or continuing along the gorge all the way to Goris, the next city.
So he continues on, soaking in the view. Every turn is a new discovery... new experience, as he gazes out to the east and west as the Vorotan River snakes its way off into the horizon. Then, suddenly he goes around a bend, and there's a little shack that seems to still be in use. Next to it is a fenced off plot where vegetables are being carefully cultivated and irrigated.
It's a inspiring sight. It makes the Traveler think of ancient times, when being able to grow you own food in a hard to get spot like this was a matter of life and death, in a tumultuous era when invaders and plunderers might sweep through at any time. If you lived in an accessible place, the invaders might kill you, rape your daughters, enslave your sons and steal all your goods. A guy like this would be safe.
It makes the Traveler think of today, when... well... things aren't really that different. It was just last year that Azerbaijani soldiers swept through a flat region not too far from here previously controlled by Armenians and killed and looted. All the Armenians who lived there had to flee, some of them deliberately burning their houses and destroying their own crops, so the enemies would not be able to enjoy them.
Maybe the guy who has this plot understands that. Armenians still live under the shadow of war and invasion and the danger of being cut off from supplies—especially in this region. Maybe subconsciously he knows that being able to grow food on the side of a canyon is a skill that needs to be preserved.
The Traveler continues on. Down below, there is a dirt road zigzaging down the side of the canyon and up the other side. It looks like somewhere over there, there are people living—or at least growing food in an even more isolated place.
He reaches more little farm plots, as well as canals and terraces along the steep slopes. It makes it hard to follow the official hiking trail, as it's hard to tell sometimes if he's following the trail, or just a path to somebody's discreet orchard. Sometimes the path doubles as a canal, with plenty of water being diverted along the canyon slopes.
The Traveler is fascinated by it all... still trying to figure out what drew people to want to cultivate and live in this area. It will seem even more strange a few hours later when he climbs back up to the top of the gorge and finds... a vast area of flat, cultivatable land!
Why live and grow food on the side of a canyon when you can live in the plains?
He comes across more clues in the ever changing geology: there's a cliff with caves—some look like they've been expanded and used as lodging—at different levels up the natural wall. It immediately brings the Traveler back memories of Cappadocia, Turkey, a surreal world of natural cone rocks turned houses and even cave skyscrapers. There's something about fascinating geology combined with human civilization that really intrigues the Traveler. He knows he's really going to enjoy this region.
Right up ahead it seems is his next abandoned village, Old Shinuhayr. This one looks a bit more challenging to explore, as it is overgrown with undergrowth. But the Traveler still decides to get off the trail and soon finds himself clambering around the ruins of sturdy stone houses, some complete with arch stone ceilings. It is interesting, but doesn't have quite the feel of a village, and finally he decides to head on back up to the regular trail, now a drivable dirt road and continue on his way. It looks like there is yet a third abandoned villaged further up ahead, but he decides he's satisfied with his abandoned village exploration, and follows the road as it zigzags up the cliff.
Here there are a few people. An old lady guiding a donkey... a rickety truck making its way down the side of the canyon. It doesn't seem anyone lives down here, but they do still come down to tend to their plots as they have for hundreds of years.
The Traveler reaches the top where he is struck the sudden contrast. Here, the land is nice and flat—the first flat area he's seen in his 7 days of hiking through Armenia. More of a shelf than a plateau, as there are more mountains further to the north, but plenty of land where you can build a towns and grow food. This is where “New Shinuhayr” is, the town that the folks moved to when Old Shinuhayr was abandoned. Here he sees for the first time in Armenia a functioning school, with parents taking their kids to class. It's a reassuring sight—as in so many villages it just doesn't seem there are many children and some of the schools look abandoned.
The town is built as a modern grid, with somewhat shabby side streets, but plenty of shops and a couple of restaurants along the main road that connects Tatev and Goris. Here the Traveler stops in to a kebab restaurant to enjoy a delicious traditional meal of grilled kebab with salad, cheese and lavash—Armenian flatbread.
It's a weird feeling to be back in civilization. Even though it's only been a couple of hours, the otherworldly feeling of wandering the gorge with its abandoned villages and tiny garden plots and rugged life felt like a long, long time... and now it feels surreal to be back in the comforts of the modern world. It's reassuring to be back where there is commerce... food he can buy... transportation if he needs it... but he already misses the raw isolation and stunning views of the gorge.
He continues on through Shinuhayr and beyond... gazing out to the vast openness. Some areas are being used to grow wheat, other areas are fallow. It make him wonder again... why do folks make the long trek down the canyon, when they can just grow food up here? He thinks of several possible reasons: down the canyon there is a steady supply of water... here, they fields look like depend on rainwater. He also wonder if the weather is more extreme up here unlike in the sheltered canyon.
It is reassuring to be able to see, for the first time in Armenia, open plains where food can be grown to feed a large population. The mountainside garden plots might be nice for supplementing the family diet, but they aren't going to feed the nation.
There's a side road that leads to another town, just couple kilometers or so away, Khot, across the plain, so the Traveler decide to take it. Along the way he meets a fellow who gets a chuckle about the fact that the Traveler is walking across Armenia.
“You really have to visit 'Old Khot'” he tells the Traveler. “it's the Macchu Picchu of Armenia.”
The Traveler looks at his map and his heart sinks. Old Khot is the village that was right up ahead on the trail that he decided to skip. He decided to skip the “Macchu Picchu of Armenia”.
Should I go back? He wonders. This will probably be the only time in his life that he will explore this region. And he might not forgive himself if he misses what sounds like a very interesting site...
...Or maybe this guy is exaggerating...
Finally he decides he can't risk missing a great opportunity.. He's going to hike back down to Old Khot. So he heads back the way he came.
Losing the Trail.
It seems like it should be an easy hike. After all, he was able to see Old Khot from afar—and there is an official hiking trail to take him over there. First, the trail takes him to the heart of Old Shinuhayr, where it does have a more village feel, along with another church. This one has been fully abandoned, and it does seem farm animals take shelter in here. Still a mysterious feel to it.
The Traveler follows the dirt road as it goes deeper and deeper into the canyon. He passes a beautiful waterfall—although it looks like it's really just a canal pouring water from one level to another. Still beautiful though, and he figures he'll use it for a refreshing shower on his way back. The waterfall becomes a stream that runs along the dirt road, making it tricky to follow without getting his shoes wet.
But he starts to suspect that he's missed the trail as there are no more markings, and it seems he's going way lower than where he'd seen the village of Old Khot. Finally he decides to turn around and check a side trail to see if that was it. No... the side trail dead ends and a little vineyard... Back down the canyon....
Still no sign of the trail. Finally he reaches an unmarked trail that takes him through abandoned farmed plots that get more and more overgrown with underbrush. It's getting more and more frustrating as he keeps looking for an alternate way forward.
He knows he's going to be feel really stupid if he turns around and gives up, and has to explain to people “I looked for Old Khot, but couldn't find it”. He does come across a couple of abandoned structures and is half tempted to say, “close enough” and claim he did explore the Macchu Picchu of Armenia...
Then he has a thought. He knows that Old Khot has to be uphill somewhere. So why not just blaze a trail right up the side of the canyon? It does look doable—at least for a while...
Warning lights go off in his head. This is a canyon, he reminds himself. He is completely alone with no one knowing where he is. And he has a history of very bad experiences trying to blaze his own trail on steep terrain. He vividly recalls taking a wrong turn heading down Mt Toubkal in Morocco, to find himself at a dead end at the top of a cliff.
“I'm doing it” he tells himself, but promises himself he'll turn around if it gets too dangerous. He clambers up... along loose rock and plunging through dense undergrowth... Still getting more and more frustrated, but determined not to turn back until he absolutely has to.
Finally it looks like the terrain is leveling off above him. Could that be Old Khot?
He quickens his pace. Reaches the top.
And there it is. No, he has not reached Old Khot. He's reached a secondary ridge that juts out into the canyon. But right up ahead, climbing up the steep main canyon wall is... yeah... the Macchu Picchu of Armenia.
Here, it definitely looks the part. Build on the steep slope, is building above building above building with a sheer wall above it. Yes, this is definitely a village built to be cut off from the world, just like Macchu Picchu.
“Totally worth it” the Traveler tells himself, and he soaks it all in, then hurries downhill for a little ways, then back up again.
As he walks, he wonders, will this discovery have the same mystique as a place like Macchu Picchu?
He thinks about the distinctions. Places like Macchu Picchu have a special feeling, because they are the remains of cultures that have all but been destroyed. There's a feeling of tragedy, knowing that so much information about these places will never be known. They've also been abandoned for a very long time, giving a feeling of a connection to a long-lost past.
The culture of Old Khot, however wasn't really destroyed. The people just moved up to the steppe where a new town was built in a much more convenient location. This town wasn't ruined by war... but instead by peace. During Soviet times, Armenia was peaceful to the point that it just didn't make sense any more to live halfway down a canyon when you could live much more comfortable up in the plains. Old Khot was only fully abandoned less than 50 years ago.
So no, Old Khot doesn't have the same depth of meaning as a place like Macchu Picchu. But it does have something that Macchu Picchu lacks: solitude. And, for the Traveler, the feeling of discovery that comes when you are lost, have no trail but keep on struggling un the side of a canyon until you find something amazing. He reaches the first buildings and realizes that he is completely alone here. No entrance fee. No other tourists. No souvenir vendors. Just you and these undisturbed ruins. It's a far more authentic experience.
And, unlike Old Halidzor and Old Shinuhayr, this has true “town” feel, with some multi-story houses that looks like they were quite upscale, with decorative porches and entryways. Each structure is different, and seem to get more and more interesting as he goes along. He realizes he has to be careful, as sometimes he thinks he's walking on firm ground... but no... there are underground structures below—some with collapsing stone roofs!
...And there's more... As he approaches the cliffs, he realizes that some houses have incorporated the geological formations into their houses. There are giant cone rock formations that are part of a house—and chiseled into, making additional rooms on the top floor where the rock formation pokes out the roof... There are houses built against the side of the cliff that are partially cave houses.
Yes, Old Khot should definitely be a tourist attraction—with a paid entrance, and a proper trail. From a financial perspective, it seems like a wasted opportunity. But from a personal perspective, the Traveler feels very, very privileged to experience this place in its raw state... undisturbed by touristification.
Finally he reluctantly decides to head on his way, still trying to put together all the pieces to figure out this amazing place. He follows what turns out to be a proper trail—actually a drivable dirt road that takes him up to the top of the cliff closer to New Khot. Turns out that Old Khot isn't nearly as cut off from the world as it seemed. It's just discreet—there are no signs to direct tourists to this site, and many tourists who come to this region don't even know about it.
New Khot is a comparatively boring town—but it is alive, and the Traveler sits to enjoy a cold drink and an ice cream, and gesture chat with the friendly locals in front of the shop, before continuing on his way.
Day 8: The Rock Formations of Goris
43.1 kms, Jun 14, 2021
From New Khot, the Traveler follows a little used road across open fields and gently rolling hills. In a way it is a relief to soak in a landscape that doesn't change dramatically every couple of minutes, making you constantly question: do I need to take a picture of this? Try to preserve this image in my memory? Walking across the plains, you can just let your mind wander and just subconsciously soak it all in.
There are things to see along the way. He passes the airport, abandoned since Soviet times, a symbol of the feeling that this part of Armenia seems kind of forgotten by the rest of the country.
The road meanders through a gentle vale, with cows grazing alone in open pastures. There are hardly any trees here, giving the impression that the weather is too brutal in winters for trees to grow. But the Traveler suspects that it's probably because, sometime in the past, forests were clear cut and never grew back. Finally the road does do a half loop around a wooded side canyon giving a bit of change of scenery... then climbing up to large cemetery on the slopes of a hill. Armenian cemeteries typically are divided into family plots surrounded by a low wall—symbolical of the importance of family in this culture.
Then, around the bend, is the Goris, laid out below, the first full-sized city the Traveler has seen in the country. It lies at the bottom of the Vararak Valley which flows north to south into the Vorotan Gorge a few miles to the south. On the west slopes are forests... on the east, the Traveler gets his first glimpse of what looks like some very interesting rock formations that once again bring back memories of Cappadoccia in Turkey.
But Goris is not just a place of natural beauty and interesting geology. Just a few miles to the east, lies Artsakh a.k.a. Karabaugh, the region controlled by that Armenia took control of in the 90s after a bloody war with Azerbaijan... and then Azerbaijan took over just a few months ago after another short but bloody war. Goris is right at the front line of one of the most contentious spots on earth.
...And yet... the Traveler reminds himself, he's wandered all over the countryside, on and off side trails... and not been stopped by the police or military or looked at with suspicion in the last seven days. Aside from his conversations with people, it would be hard to tell that this is a country which just endured a bruising war.
The Traveler finds some shortcuts to cut through the switchback down into the valley, finally reaching the edge of the city. Goris has a subdued quietness to it, and seems to be made up mostly of large, walled in family homes surrounded by a yard or garden. Quite a difference from the bustle of activity and the boxy apartment buildings of the Kapan-Kajaran are. Goris is bit shabby, but still with signs that there are folks who are better off as well. An older man asks the Traveler where he is from, and he brightens up when the Traveler says “America”.
“I used to live in America” the man says in English. “I lived in California.”
“So how are things going now here in Goris?” The Traveler asks, looking for clues as to what brought this man back.”
“I have hopes for the election next week. Our president is bringing our country down—but there is a candidate that wants to bring Armenia closer to the USA. I hope he wins and will make our country better.”
The Traveler can't say he shares that same optimism. Seeing the pattern over the last twenty years—as well as in his conversations with people who understand this part of the world, “getting closer to the USA” can cause serious trouble for former Soviet republics like Armenia. Why?
“Every time a former Soviet country does this, they get punished by Russia” the Traveler has been told. “Georgia tried to get more aligned with the West... Russia invaded and took over Abkhazia... Ukraine tried the same, and Russia took Crimea... Many believe that the same thing happened in Armenia. The president was getting closer to the West, Russia allowed Azerbaijan to invade”
The Traveler also has notices that, when Russia does invade, or allow an invasion in one of its former Soviet Republics, neither America no any other Western allies do anything to help. The USA does not want to start a direct conflict with Russia, which... come to think of it... is probably for the best.
So the idea of Armenia getting even closer to the USA is probably not going to end well... the Traveler worries.
He continues on into town, which continues to have a kind of depressing, empty feel. The Traveler wonders if that has to do with the war. During the war, he's read, this city was full of refugees from Artsakh. 80,000 Armenians fled the region during the Azerbaijani advance. After the ceasefire, about 40,000 went back. The other 40,000—many having permenantly lost their homes in territories ceded to the Azeris—have stayed in Armenia. But it doesn't seem that too many of them stayed here in Goris.
There are hints of culture that reach far into history. The Traveler loves the traditional Armenian bakeries. The have a giant pot buried in the ground with a fire going on around it, creating an unusual oven. Then the baker—usually a woman—stretches out the dough, reaches in and slaps it on the inside of this pot where it is quickly baked. Then it is pulled out and, voila, a delicious crisp lavash. The Traveler enjoys a delicious snack: fresh herbs wrapped in lavash... something he's never had before.
This flatbread making method does bring back memories of Morocco, Jordan and Kurdish Iraq, where similar method are used. But the Armenian “hole in the ground” ovens he finds particularly interesting.
He comes across a hotel—which is more of a B and B, in the home of a cheerful older couple, and settles in... then heads out to grab a proper meal... and then makes a beeline for what looks like the most interesting thing in Goris: the rock formations on the other side. He crosses the Vararak stream—which unfortunately is quite polluted—and looks for a way to get to the intriguing pillars he saw from afar. Unlike in Cappadoccia, this area of rock formations don't seem to cater to tourists. In fact, it looks like a lot of them are on private land. He reaches the end of town where there are fenced in country home plots and pastures on the steep slopes. Finally he comes to and unfenced steep grassy slope, and figures he'd better take advantage up it, and climbs up to see if he can get a closer look at these natural pillars.
He climbs up, and reaches a little peak with a shrine where you can gaze out to the city... then along a ridge and down into a hollow, where a fellow on horseback in watching over his cows. The Traveler greets him. Folks don't seem to mind this odd foreigner wandering around taking pictures.
And there they are: first a random pillar here and there... then an entire forest of pillars wither it seems that wind has eaten away at the rock for who knows how long, creating beautiful artwork. Sometimes, like in Cappadoccia, there's eroded pillar of soft rock with a larger harder rock balanced on top.
As the Traveler scurries about like a kid at Disneyland, he does remind himself that he is very close to a conflict zone... and area where, as he read recently, there are a whopping 100,000 land mines lying around! So not the safest place in the world to be wandering off the beaten track. So he does try to stay on tracks where at least cows and goats have walked on and “cleared the mines” if there ever were any...
Dusk is approaching and the Traveler knows he has limited time. Like Old Khot, one thing that makes this are so special is that it seems all but unexploited as a tourist destination. Just kids out playing... cows heading back home down the steep hillside...
The Traveler reaches another cool cluster of pillars with a very fun looking squeeze through series of gorges at the bottom between them. The Traveler follows a trail that he thinks will take him to the bottom... but it gets dangerously steep... Warning bells go off, and he decides that it's not worth the risk, climbs back up to look for another way down.
Finally, as dusk sets in, he finds a way back into town where, yes, he can see that a couple of these pillars have been converted into cave houses that are still in use, but he can't get close enough to get a good picture...
Overall, it's been a lot of fun wandering the rock forest of Goris. He heads back to downtown Goris where there is a pleasant plaza where parents bring their kid to ride on little battery run toy cars, and young people come and hang out, dressed in the latest styles...
And with that, the Traveler decides to call it a night, heading back to his room.
The Road to Artsakh
The next day the Traveler decides he wants to explore the rock formations a bit more. He heads a bit further south, when it seems there's a road leading into another cluster of formations. It turns out, it leads to a large cemetery where family grave plots have beautiful cliffs as a backdrop.
Supposedly there's supposed to be a hiking trail through here that will take him up the mountainside and on to another village, but when he asks a couple of fellows about it, they don't seem to know about it. But the don't seem to mind a tourist wandering around this very picturesque cemetery taking pictures, so he continues on.
It looks like there is a path leading on up the cliff. But no... it leads to private cave house tucked away, where it looks like someone is still living inside of this cliff. Sure enough, an older man comes out and greets the Traveler, and doesn't seem to mind someone wandering on to his property.
The Traveler heads on back, giving up on following this trail when suddenly... there it is! He spots the trail markings pointing up into another dead end hollow which turns out to be a non-dead end, with a goat trail/hiking trail finding its way up the steep slope.
The Traveler climbs higher and higher, soaking in the view of the city below—as well as the beauty around, with more clusters of pillars about, seemingly undiscovered by the world outside.
And finally, the rock formations come to an end, and there are just grassy pastures on rolling hills stretching on into the horizon. Here the Traveler has two choices: either head south where there is one more isolated village to explore here in the highlands—even though that will be a dead end hike. Or head north and loop his way down to the city. Continuing east is not an option, as Artsakh is not far away, and is currently closed to outsiders.
The Traveler heads north, reaching the sign that points towards Stepanakert, the capital of Artsakh. The bulletholes in the sign are reminders that... yes... things are not OK in this part of the world.
The Armenia-Azerbaijan Wars, Parts 1 and 2
Getting clear, objective information on the Armenia-Azerbaijan conflict can be a challenge. Here in Armenia, the narrative seems clear: peaceful Armenias came under attack by evil Azeris who massacred them and drove them from their homes, then the Armenians heroically fought to defend the land that was rightfully theirs.
But, later when he goes to Azerbaijan, the Traveler will hear the exact same narrative—except with the names switched around. Armenians are the villains and heartless killers and Azeris are the victims and heroes defending their homeland. Obviously both narratives can't be true.
The Traveler looks elsewhere for information and still has a hard time finding clarity. What he understands is this: Under Soviet rule, it was determined that Artsakh was part of the Soviet Republic, even though the population was predominantly Armenian. Back then, that didn't really matter because everybody had to get along like it or not under Soviet rule. In fact, there were many Azeris living in present day Armenia and many Armenians living in present day Azerbaijan. But there were still hidden, unforgotten grudges from the past. Back in the 1800s Armenians did suffer some pretty nasty massacres at the hands of Azeris—not to mention, Azeris consider themselves closely aligned culturally and politically aligned with Turkey, Armenia's arch-rival.
When the Soviet Union fell apart in 1991, the Armenians of Artsakh were being mistreated by the Azeris and started a fight for independence (at least that's what the Traveler understands). Armenians in Armenia sided with their brothers in Artsakh, turning it into an international war. Turkey got involved supporting Azerbaijan, and Russia got involved supporting Armenia. Well... sort of... the Traveler later learns that Russia was actually playing both sides, selling weapons to Azerbaijan as well. But the Russian support was enough so that smaller and poorer Armenia was able to eventually win and take control of Artsakh.
Meanwhile, in both countries, massacres and ethnic cleansing took places with pretty much all ethnic Azeris forced out of Armenia and all Armenians forced out of Azerbaijan. All Azeris were forced out of Artsakh as well. Armenians argued that Artsakh is “historically part of Armenia” and therefore it was their's by divine right. Azeris, the Traveler learns, feel the exact opposite.
Later on the Traveler will learn another very important piece of the puzzle. He meets a couple of the very few Armenians who seem to be able to look at this whole conflict objectively, and they explain: Armenia didn't just take over a predominantly ethnic Armenian region. They also took over several predominantly Azeri regions surrounding it, forcing them to leave, including the predominantly Azeri city of Susa.
Anyways, things continued on for the next 25 years with Armenia in control of this region, struggling economically as both its borders with Azerbaijan and Turkey remained closed. Meanwhile Azerbaijan has been getting richer and richer thanks to its oil deposits (and good relations with everyone around except Armenia). So what was that gas money spent on? Well, other than building all kinds of grand monuments in its capital, Azerbaijan's strongman ruler has been stocking up on the latest weaponry, particularly drones. Drones that can blow up tanks.
Then, probably with Putin's tacit approval, in October of 2020, Azerbaijan struck. It was an attack that will probably be studied in military schools for a long time. First they sent in their drones which obliterated the Armenian armour. Hundreds of tanks disabled or destroyed. Armenia was caught completely inprepared. Suddenly, Armenia—and every army in the world—realized that tanks aren't the invincible machines that they once were. An entire armor division can be wiped out with a futuristic Terminator-style air force of machines.
Next, the Traveler reads, (but Azerbaijan denies), jihadis from Syria were sent in to serve as cannon fodder. This was a brilliant albeit diabolical scheme. Jihadis could easily be convinced that they're fighting a religious war worth dying for (it's really an ethnic war). Meanwhile, Azerbaijan could keep the war popular by cut down on the casualty rate of its own men.
In a matter of days the Azeris swept through the disputed region, taking over the city of Susa. With their troops surrounded and little chance of victory, the Armenian president quickly accepted a Russian brokered cease-fire in which he ceded most of Artsakh/Karabakh to Azerbaijan, holding on to a diminished territory connected to Armenia by a sliver known as the “Lachin Corridor”. He agreed to allowed thousands of Russian “peacekeepers” to come and monitor things.
The Traveler shakes his head when he looks at the newly drawn map. “There's no way this is going to work” he mumbles to himself. With all the animosity between the two, having what is left of Armenian Artsakh connected by a road through Azeri territory is not going to end well... Nor having the only highway connecting south Armenia with the rest of the country run through Azerbaijan... Or having an Azeri corridor through Armenia connecting it with Nakhchivan, as is part of the agreement. All it will take for one rock to be thrown at a one car... and the whole thing can spiral out of control once again... At least this is what is his impression.
But looking at the cars going and coming from Artsakh, there is no hint of this, for now. He sees nice cars... families in them... coming and going from what a few months ago was a war zone. No hint of the horrors they just went through. But the Traveler does sense some pain and tension in the eyes of some of the older folks he passes along the way. Still, the explanation “American tourist” is still deemed sastisfactory, even in this sensitive area.
He reaches yet another series of rock pillars. But these are artificial ones, built as at a lookout point overlooking the city, with a gateway underneath, perhaps also symbolizing this being the gateway to Artsakh. Nearby is a spring fountain with a sculpture of an eagle hovering over it... and a large cross on the hill above.
The Traveler takes a moment to soak in the meaning of it all. Part of him wishes he could hike on into Artsakh/Karabakh, just to try to understand what makes that area so special that these countries are willing to spend 30+ fighting over it. But it doesn't look like this is going to happen. Instead, the Traveler follows the highway as it works its way down the valley into the northside of Goris. Here there are a lot of shops, restaurants and businesses—as this is probably where a lot of folks from Artsakh come to stock up on supplies. Now, far fewer customers than there were a year ago.
On north, following the valley, it looks like there are a couple of suburb towns the Traveler figures he could check out. Here in Vernashen, unlike the Artsakh highway, the road is in poor shape and full of potholes. There are some nice big houses here—the Traveler suspects they belong to folk who have made money abroad—probably Russia.
Other than that, there's a very rural village feel to this place, with cows wandering the streets. Up a side alley, the houses abruptly end and there are large garden plots with women hard at work, who cheerfully greet the Traveler as he passes. Then... grassy slopes.
Up the hillside he spots what looks like a tall gazebo lookin over the valley. Nearby is a three sidede pillar with typical Armenian designs on it. It appears to be a war memorial of sorts, perhaps dedicated to the first war with Azerbaijan. Now it seems a bit forgotten.
The Traveler climbs up the gazebo to soak in the view and dedicate a concert to Vernashen and the Vararak Valley, reminding himself that the quiet peacefulness of this place is not the full picture.
The Politician
It's getting late as the Traveler loops his way around Vernashen and back to Goris once again. But this doesn't stop him from enjoying some very interesting encounters along the way. The first is a middle age fellow who is eager to practice his limited English.
“I'm an electrical engineer.” he tells the Traveler. “I'm working on a new power substation not far from here.” The Traveler isn't sure he understands everything, but it sounds that like Armenia is doing some serious work to upgrade its high voltage electric network. Up the road, the Traveler will see 4 rows of high tension wires, and a 5th being built—and it's not just to benefit Armenia.
“We export electricity to Iran, and the sell us oil” the engineer explains.
This is a reminder to the Traveler how careful Azerbaijan and Armenia were to limit the extent of their war. Azerbaijan could easily have sabatoged these wire, but chose not to, because that would affect the whole neighborhood. Turkey, Azerbaijan's ally could easily have bombed Yerevan, just a few miles from its border, but chose not to.
Since
World War II, direct war between neighboring countries has become
relatively rare—particularly wars over territory. It used to be,
it was normal for neighboring kingdoms and countries to constantly
fight and invade each other. Borders were very fluid... moving back
and forth as each side tried to snag a little chunk of the others'
territory.
After World War II, the greater powers realized that
this was just too dangerous of a game. Directly invaded another
country to expand your territory... things can get out of control
really fast ruining everyone that's involved. So nowadays most wars
are either civil wars within a country... proxy wars... or wars when
a greater power pretends it's coming in to “liberate” a weaker
country from their “cruel oppressor”. When Russian invaded
Ukraine or when America invaded Afghanistan, they didn't say they
were expanding their territory. No... they were “liberating” the
poor local people.
The Armenia-Azerbaijan war was an exception. It was an old fashioned territory war. But despite the death and carnage, it seems clear that a very delicate dance was being done. Azerbaijan definitely did not want to drag Iran into this by destroying these important power lines. And Turkey and Azerbaijan knew that, while Russia might have tacitly permitted this war, they only wanted Azerbaijan to go so far. Putin wanted Armenia to be punished, not destroyed.
But what will happen if someday Russia either falls apart or simply decides it doesn't care any more? Armenia will be essentially a “Turkey sandwich” squeezed between powerful Turkey and Azeris who identify themselves as Turkish “cousins”.
Anyways... back to the talk with the engineer. Turns out, he's not just a successful engineer, the fellow is also running for parliament in the upcoming elections. He seems to be an ambitious fellow rooted here and trying to make a positive difference in his region.
Until... he asks the Traveler about immigrating to America. The Traveler is puzzled. “You work as an electrical engineer on an important project in your country... and you're running for office... why would you want to move to America?”
“Even as an engineer, my pay is very low here.”
The Traveler has mixed feelings about this. On one hand, he sympathizes with this fellow's desire to improve his life... but is concerned about what this “brain drain” means for Armenia's future...
The Traveler continues on. He passes a park, now overgrown with weeds. In the middle is a war monument which appears to be riddle with bullets.
What happened? He wonders. I thought the fighting of last years war didn't reach Goris...
Later he learns “these bulletholes were from the previous war, 25 years ealier. The monument hasn't been repaired because we don't want people to forget what happened.”
The War Reporters
Walking along the dim sidewalk, the Traveler passes two fellows sitting at a table outside a shwarma joint. “Play a song for us” one of them asks. The Traveler decides to oblige, figuring it'd be a nice way to finish off his day.
He decided it would be fitting to sing “Two Brothers”, a song originally dedicated to the divide between Morocco and Algeria, but feels even more fitting here.
Two brothers living close to each other
So much in common so much that bonds them
Two brothers sharing the same heartbeat
People’s expectations of a future that’s brighter
We can be stronger by working together
We can see beyond to a tomorrow that’s better
By focusing on what we have in common as brothers
Two brothers it’s only natural,
Sometimes there are problems, it’s part of being a family
But as brothers we must keep our focus
On what is important on what it is that joins us
When a brother falls down, the others gather around
Help him up to his feet, there in his time of need
The Traveler doesn't realize that one of the fellows who is recording a video is sharing this live with the world...
Turns out, these aren't just two ordinary guys hanging out. One is a French-Russian reporting for France 24, a major French media outlet. The other is French-Armenian who, it seems, is a reporter, but is also on a mission to recruit French-Armenians to come and fight for their homeland.
The French-Russian had the opportunity to see the war first-hand. “The hardest part was seeing the children, traumatized by what they had seen” he explains. He says people are relieved to have the Russians here to keep them safe, but is very unsure as to what the future holds. He share's the Traveler's skepticism as to whether this bizarre “border” that has been created is going to work.
“It isn't working” the French-Armenian explains. “The Azeris cross over when they want, provoking conflict. People living near the new border live in fear. Recently a farmer's cows wandered into Azeri territory. They just took his cows and wouldn't give them back.” It does sound like this border arrangement is a tinderbox, ready to explode at any moment.
But the Traveler is quite skeptical of the French-Armenian's approach. The idea of bringing a couple hundred volunteers to “fight for the motherland” doesn't sound like something that's going to end well. It doesn't matter how heroic and determined Armenians are, they simply are not going to be able to win this militarily—unless the get their hands on some serious weaponry that can resist and destroy Azerbaijan's army of drones. It's about as pointless as the iconic “Charge of the Light Brigade”.
So what options does Armenia have? The Traveler will ask people along the way what they see in the future for their country. Some share the same suicidal heroism of “fighting to the last man”. Others say Armenia will be colonized by Russia again. Others fear that a Turkey and Azerbaijan with just chip away at Armenia until the country simply ceases to be. Others say they simply don't know. Hardly anybody seems to feel any optimism for the future.
This is a far cry from what the Traveler would have heard a few years ago. Before this war many Armenians were feeling confident—even cocky.
“We don't have to worry because Russia always has our back” one person would say.
“Armenia is small but strong.” another would say. “We f*d... Turkey... we f*d Russia... we f*d Azerbaijan!”
No one expresses this kind of confidence any more. That “story” of David vs. Goliath invincibility Armenians have told themselves has fallen apart. Now, it's still unclear what new story will replace it.
“Right now we just live one day at a time” one fellow explains “we don't want to think about the future”.
The Traveler continues on into the night, trying to absorb everything he has seen and learned today.
Day 9: The Wide Open Valley
34.3 kms, June 15, 2021
The
next day, the Traveler is ready to continue on. Despite the amazing
rock formations and plenty of neighborhoods to explore, the Traveler
is eager to move on from this place. There's a heaviness here that is
weighing him down. He feels he needs some fresh air to try to get it
all in perspective.
So early in the morning he heads out,
following the city north once again, then on to the main highway that
connects Goris with all points north. Here, once again, he's passed
by a parade of Iranian tanker truck, hauling their fuel through this
long route through Armenia.
Once out of the valley, the Traveler is greeted again by wide open treeless rolling hills. To the north, the mountains rise again in not to far away. To the south... the flatness is deceptive. The Traveler knows that they otherworldly Vorotan Gorge is down that ways. Beyond the grand mountain range along the Armenia-Nakhchivan border still dominate.
It's a peaceful, mostly uneventful walk, in contrast with previous days, and the Traveler doesn't mind. Here you can spend a full hour or two absorbing the landscape before it changes.
He sees a convoy of hulking military vehicles coming towards him. They are old, but hardy... and flying the Russian flag.
Had this been a year or more ago, a scene like this might seem very troubling—it gives the image that Russia is once again occupying Armenia. Now, this is a welcome sight. Yeah, it might still end up being classified as an “occupation”, but considering the alternative to be occupied by Russia, it actually seems like a good thing.
My, how times have changed.
It also gives the Traveler a reassurance that he will probably not end up being caught up in the middle of a war as he hikes through Armenia. As long as the Russians are here, a full blown war is unlikely. Once they leave? That's anyone's guess.
The Traveler does face dangers though. Now he has to worry about inattentive drivers who go much faster along this road that the twisted, potholed roads further south. And there's more. There are many little makeshift gas stations and mechanic shops—many which seem to cater to passing Iranians. These are often guarded by very unfriendly dogs. The Traveler has learned to pick up a rock or two each time he approaches one. One time he forgets, and one dog comes after him who clearly intends to do more than just bark. Even after the Traveler finds a rock and throws it, he gets even closer.
This puts the Traveler a bit ill at ease. He wonders if the next time he encounters a dog who doesn't fall for the “I'm picking up a rock to throw at you” bluff, things go end up very badly for the Traveler.
Unlike canines, the humans he encounters along the way are always either neutral of friendly. On this route there are numerous clusters of beehive that have been set up, and honey straight from the hive being sold beside the road. Often there will be a little hut or trailer where the beekeeper camps out as he protects and cares for his hives.
On old beekeeper sees the Traveler passing and gestures that he come for coffee. The Traveler decides to accept, and clambers into the antique trailer which appears set up for beekeeper to live for extended periods of time. The fellow insists on sharing whatever he has available... apricots... a couple of sweets... bread... along with the coffee. The Traveler tries to reciprocate by sharing some of the food he's carrying with him, but the man refuses.
There's a wistfulness about this lonely lifestyle. But it doesn't seem to be a life of absolute poverty—despite the very spartan living conditions. He explains, using gestures, that he has a home in Goris and stays out here just for part of the year... his children have gone to school, married and moved on—and has relatives living abroad.
It's an interesting glimpse into a unique lifestyle. The Traveler hopes his visit brought some cheer to this fellow's day as well...
He continues on up the road, to encounter another distinct culture: shepherds. Three fellows are directing a large herd of sheep on a dirt road near the highway. But then they drive the sheep on along the highway itself, blocking half the road and forcing drivers to take turns going around the herd.
It feels like a classic conflict between the “old” and the “new” ways of life. The Traveler could easily see how this could get ugly fast. Armenians are not exactly the most considerate and patient drivers, and it would just take one to either carelessly or deliberately plow through the herd. The Traveler remembers seeing a video of this happening, wiping out an entire herd. It could be especially ugly if the driver were an Iranian...
The idea of keeping farm animals and cars separate from each other hasn't really caught on here in the Caucasus. Many times herds of cows will just wander around with no one to watch them, often on roads and highways. Drivers seem to keep this in mind though, and the Traveler never sees a dead cow or a car-on-cow accident on the road during his entire hike.
The Traveler himself is eager to get off the road, and finally finds a dirt road that might look like a better option. Looking at the map, there is a fairly large city, Sisian, off to the south a few miles, he figures he could take a detour to check out. But since Google Maps isn't working right now, he's going to have to figure out a non-highway way to get there the old fashioned way: by paying attention to his surroundings.
He follows the road as it climbs up a ridge, but then just sort of fades to nothing. Not to be discouraged, the Traveler follows the ridge south, until he reaches the large village and figures he should head down and check it out. Noravan is built in a nice grid pattern, suggesting that it was built during Soviet times, with a big pipeline running through, which has the Traveler scratching his head a bit. Here, there are shops where he can enjoy a refreshing cold drink—and enough young people around to make this place feel alive.
The Traveler left his backpack back in Goris, figure he could just hitch a ride back there come evening. But it turns out, it's much harder to just hitch a ride in this region in contrast with further south. People don't stop, and when they do, they only take the Traveler part of the way. It takes four rides and some long waits and the Traveler finally reaches the city once again... Here he decides to just relax and enjoy a nice supper... and call it a day.
Day 10: Upstream on the Vorotan River
29.6 kms, June 16, 2021
The Next day the Traveler picks up where he left off: in Noravan. Here, just a short ways to the south he can see he's approaching a river valley and wonders... could this be the Voratan River? He looks at the map... sure enough! This is the Vorotan, far upstream from the amazing gorge he explore a few days ago. Here the scenery isn't nearly as grand—but it does feel special to reconnect with this river once again.
The Traveler follows a road up this valley, passing the through the hillside village of Aghitu, then on up a rocky valley... over a ridge, where the valley widens and the city of Sisian is laid out before him.
Sisian at first feels like a pretty ordinary small city, but approaching downtown, it takes on a semi-abandoned feel, even more depressing than Goris. Boulevards full of weeds on the sides. He comes across a construction project of a large villa. Not only was the construction abandoned—even the crane was just left there to rust! The plaza does have a big screen showing a football game... but nobody's watching.
The Traveler wonders what the the reason behind this is. He later reads that, during the 1960s, under Soviet rule, several hydroelectric plants were built along the Vorotan River, which stimulated industrial growth here in Sisian, but when Soviet Union collapsed, so did these industries—and the jobs they provided.
This goes against the dominant idea that the Traveler was taught repeated as a youth, back in the 80s: communism is unproductive. Capitalism and free market boost growth, jobs and the start of new businesses.
Well, the opposite has taken place here in Sisian. When the “free market” arrived here in town, the economy collapsed, and doesn't seem to have really recovered since.
The Traveler does find a decent restaurant down by the Vorotan River, which runs right through town, where he enjoys a nice salad and a bowl of borscht. He finds a cheap hotel, and then checks online to see what there is of interest in this area.
The Prehistoric Pillars
The Traveler has already visited the “Macchu Picchu of Armenia”. Now he learns that, a few miles away is the “Stonehenge of Armenia”. Obviously he knows he has to visit this as well.
So he heads north, up out of the valley and back to the open plains again. Supposedly there is a trail to follow, but this trail seems to have been plowed under, and now he just finds himself blazing his own trail across the grassland.
Then... there there are. A series of uncut stone pillars positioned in rows, some of them with mysterious holes drilled through them.
Calling it “Stonehenge” is a bit of an exaggeration... but there is something special about this place. No one is sure how old this site is, but it is clear that this place has had a special religious significance for many thousands of years. Ancient graves have been found around here that date back to the Middle Bronze Age. It does appear that this was a site of burial of important people—as well as a site for astronomical observation. Some have even gone so far as to say this is the oldest astronomical observatory in the world.
The reality is that little is known for sure. There are some underground rooms still partially covered with big rock slabs—not clear what they were. What does seem special about this site is that, unlike many ancient religious site, this one hasn't been reclaimed and repurposed by Christianity. There is not chapel built atop what was a pagan temple here. Just empty open space all around.
Seems like a good place for Armenians who feel their identity should be uncoupled from Christianity. Being Armenian doesn't necessarily mean you have to be Armenian Christian.
Later the Traveler learns that there is a small minority that feels this way. In fact, this very site is used for folks interested in pre-Christian Armenianism to come and celebrate the pagan Armenian New Year.
For the Traveler, this is a place to disconnect from the problems of the present day, and soak in the full swath of human civilization. He imagines the many brutal armies that have charged up and down this hard to defend open plain, leaving death and destruction in their wake. And yet... civilization always seems to rebound. Survivors rebuild their homes... plant their crops again... and come to sacred places like this to find hope and solace.
And so life will civilization will continue on for many thousands of years more...
With that in mind, he heads back to Sisian for the night, feeling a bit less depressed about this run down town. Looking at the big picture, things aren't really going too bad right now...
Day 11: The Waterfall of Sheki
30.1 kms, June 17, 2021
There is another interesting attraction right up the road from Sisian: a waterfall, upstream on the Vorotan River. So the next morning, the Traveler is off, eager for this new discovery. He follows the road which runs through a smaller gorge along the Vorotan to where a statue of an eagle atop a pillar marks the entrance to Sisian.
Sheki has a dusty, backroad forgotten feel to it. But it does have a little square in front of a run down government building where he can pull out his guitar. He is soon joined by a group of friendly schoolkids, boys and girls.
“Vodapad?” (waterfall?) he asks. Yes, they all know where the waterfall is. In fact, when he makes it clear that's where he's going, they tell him they're going to come along.
Next thing he knows, he's walking through the village accompanied by fifteen children and teenagers. He wonders what folks are thinking seeing this Pied Piper going with half the village youth off into the countryside. He's not sure if they are his guides... or if he's the chaperone taking a bunch of kids on a field trip.
Some of them stop up at the shop and load up on snacks—soda, chips and ice cream bars for everyone. The ice cream bars are handed out and soon there are wrappers blowing all over the countryside—except the Traveler who decides he needs to be and example and puts his in his pocket.
He is used to kids in the developing world coming and asking him for stuff. Instead, these kids are sharing stuff with him... Along the way they Traveler's guitar gets handed around as kids try a bit of walking and strumming...
It's a jolly crowd—about 10 boys and five girls. It's not clear who is in charge, if anyone. The reach the Vorotan river as it enters the narrow valley and you can hear the waterfall up ahead.
And.. there it is... they reach the top and everyone clambers down the steep trail down the cliff. The Traveler nervously wonders, if someone falls... will that make me responsible? Fortunately he doesn't have to find out.
It is a beautiful waterfall. Not very high, but wide, spread out across a cliff coming down like a curtain. He snaps a few pictures before the gang tells him they need to hurry continue on. They reach a couple souvenir vendors and several of them buy souvenirs, to the Traveler's surprise. He gets the feeling that they got some money for the end of school year, and now are out on a spending spree. Then they reach a grassy are along the river and spread out their picnic.
The Traveler is intrigued by the social dynamics of this group. They all seem pretty young to be organizing their own picnic and wandering off into the countryside (the oldest might be 13). He also finds it interesting to see boys and girls mingling together unsupervised—something you don't see much in neighboring countries.
The boys dare the Traveler to jump in the river, and he takes them up on the dare, and enjoys a refreshing dip. Another tries to dare him to go up through the water tunnel that leads to a hydroelectric plant—but no, the Traveler doesn't fall for this one.
Then things start getting chaotic as the boys start dousing one of the girls with water. She fights back and soon, there's an all out water war going on. Meanwhile some of the kids want to keep playing the Traveler's guitar, but he finally decides he's got to put an end to that as water flies everywhere.
Seems like this well organized youth picnic is turning into “The Lord of the Flies”--except here it's boys against girls, and the girls are outnumbered. The Traveler tries to reassure himself that this is probably how they goof off all the time and no harm will come of it. Maybe an unsupervised picnic of preteen boys and girls isn't such a good idea...
He decide that he's going to say goodbye to the crowd and continue on his way.
A little nerve wracking... but still a fun experience overall.
The Village Handyman
The Traveler continues on... back to the Goris-Yerevan highway as it continues up through the treeless rolling hills of the Upper Vorotan Valley. There's a rugged feel to this place as the road makes a gradual descent up towards the mountain pass. He imagines winters in this wide, windswept valley must be brutal.
He takes a little detour to do a loop around the scruffy little village of Spandaryan. Here he gets a couple of curious looks from the locals, but nothing more. After another long, lonely stretch there is another shabby little town. This time a couple of fellow working in a little repair shop insist that the Traveler come in for a drink.
To the Traveler's pleasant surprise, one of them speaks good English, and tells him a bit about life in the village.
“Life is very hard here. Winters are six months long and very cold.”
“I see there are these pipes that run above ground from home to home. Do these carry heating fuel?” the Traveler asks.
“Yes, these are methane pipes. But many people can't afford it and not all villages have these. We depend mostly on dried manure to heat our homes during the winter.”
Depending on cow poop to keep your home from freezing for 6 months out of the year? This sounds rough—and must require a LOT of manure. The Traveler has seen these blocks of manure being set out to dry in preparation for the wintertime.
“So how did you learn English?” the Traveler asks.
“I studied at the university in Yereven. I studied systems management. But it's hard to get a job here in Armenia, the way our economy is. So I came back to my family's village.”
The Traveler is a bit shocked. For someone to live his whole life in a shabby village like this might not be so bad—if that's all you know. But for an ambitious guy like this, to go off the the big city with big aspirations... and then see it fall apart and end up back here just doing odds and ends repair jobs seems very depressing.
But then again... somebody's got to come back here, if the culture of this region is to be preserved... right?... The Traveler isn't quite sure.
And there's more. “My brother lives in the USA. He went on a tourist visa and stayed to work illegally. He makes good money driving a truck—but he can't come back.”
The subject turns to politics and the war with Azerbaijan. Like many the Traveler has spoken to, this fellow expresses uncertainty about the future, as well as harsh criticism for his own country's government. Then he says something that give the Traveler a lot to think about.
“Armenia used to be a big country. Now we are a small country. We really should be a big country again.” he says wistfully.
The Traveler thinks about this as he continues down the road. There is something trouble about this statement. By “big country” he knows this means Armenia used to rule parts of what today is Turkey, Azerbaijan, Georgia... and more. And he, a many other Armenians really feel they should get some of that land back.
The problem is, as the Traveler will learn more of in the months ahead... folks in all neighboring countries share a similar sentiment. They all used to be “big countries”--or at least bigger than the are now. And many of them are nostalgic for that “Golden Era” of their history.
Iran used to be bigger than it is today... Same with Turkey... Same with Azerbaijan... Same with Georgia. Even Russia which is the biggest country on earth “used to be bigger”...
This creates an obvious dilemma: going back to that Golden Era would mean taking territory that currently belongs to another country. Every square mile of this part of the world at one time “belonged” to many different kingdoms at different times. And it's obviously impossible for them all to have it back.
And this becomes a real problem when people go beyond that wistful nostalgia for the “good ol' days” and actually start trying to take back what they think is “theirs”--which is exactly what's happened in Artsakh/Karabakh. This starts a cycle of violence that will continue until people either give up on clinging to the past—or one of them completely destroys the other.
Hearing an educated fellow talk like this gives the Traveler a troubling feeling that there are painful days ahead for Armenia.
The Traveler continues on up the road, as it reaches some steep slopes again. Down below, is a large beautiful reservoir. The Traveler figures he needs to go for a proper deep water swim, and thus bid his farewell to the amazing Voratan River. He makes his way down the slopes... and plunges into the refreshing waters...
Then back up to the highway as it follows the shore of the Spandaryan Reservoir. Then there is one last shabby highland town of Gorayk that the Traveler does a loop around. Again, feels like a harsh life, here in these windswept highlands...
With no place to stay, and not in the mood for camping, the Traveler decides to hitch a ride to the next city of Vayk up the road, where he finds a very nice hotel and a glorious cafeteria style “Food Court” where all sorts of delicious dishes are laid out for him to sample.
As he enjoys an amazing supper, the Traveler does try to remind himself that, just 20 miles from here, there are folks in rugged villages who might never enjoy what he is enjoying right now...
Day 12: Another Watershed
26.9 kms, Jun 18, 2021
So far the Traveler has hiked through several river valleys in Armenia: Up the Meghri River... down the Voghji River... Down and the up the Vorotan River... Now he's about to cross another watershed to expore yet another one: the Arpi River Valley.
However, all these rivers are really just tributaries of the mighty Kuna River which drains most of the Caucasus—and almost all of Armenia. Still, it is an exciting feeling to climb up yet another treeless pass—with patches of snow not too far off... and feel that you have finished exploring one region and are starting another.
And this watershed also marks the political boundary between Syunik Province (which the Traveler has spent 11 days exploring and the next one Vayots Dzor Province.
And so, as he sprints up his last uphill climb for a while, he gazes back one last time at the beautiful Spandaryan Reservoir and the wide open windswept grassy valley... then steps through the two pillars marking the entry to Vayots Dzor. With a couple of honey vendors, and a bit of trash around, it doesn't have the same rugged feel as previous passes the Traveler has crossed—but still, a nice feeling of accomplishment.
So he gazes west to the Arpi Valley and immediately notices a difference. There are a lot of bushes and even trees instead of just grass. It gives the impression that the weather isn't as harsh on this side—or maybe people have been more careful to not cut down all trees here in the Arpi Valley.
But there is a downside to this. When the Traveler tries to take a big shortcut to avoid the switchbacks and to connect with a dirt road he sees far below, he find that this road actually takes him away from the highway. So he tries blazing a trail through the brush, finding it much more challenging that taking shortcuts through grass. Finally, after struggling through multiple thorny patches, he finds a proper trail.. and makes his way back to the highway again.
Seeing trees does give the feeling that life in the villages here isn't quite as difficult as on the east side. At least here people can burn wood and aren't entirely dependant on manure for heating their houses...
A stream is quickly born on this side, and the Traveler feels he's earned the right to take a dip, and looks for a spot that's deep enough. It's a good thing he does, because it's not long before the stream starts getting pretty polluted, apparently with raw sewage from the villages.
Soon this stream, the Darb, joins a bigger stream, the Arpi, which flows from the springs of Jermuk in the north. Several people have told the Traveler that Jermuk is a beautiful place to visit (and the source of much of Armenia's bottled water). It is tempting... but he decides he needs to keep up the pace a bit to get to Yerevan reasonably soon.
So he continues on downstream, as the valley narrows into a gorge. Not a grand gorge like the Vorotan Gorge, a more intimate one with cool formations on the cliffs beside you that you can reach over and touch. Here you would feel like you're on a back road through the hinterlands—if it weren't for all the Iranian trucks rumbling past.
There's something else different about this side of the pass: lots of little restaurants along the river, often with cool little fountains, carvings and table perched right above the water. It's a cheering thing to see—especially after all the days of hiking through Syunik Province without seeing a single restaurant all day—sometimes not even a shop.
But who do these restaurants cater to? The Traveler wonders. He does see tourists in this area, but they mostly seem to be Armenians—probably middle and upper class folks from sun scorched Yerevan that might come up to the cooler mountains on weekends.
It is nice to be reminded that, yes, there are many Armenians who live here, make decent money and have disposible income to spend on a weekend out of town or a summer vacation.
Stopping at a roadside stall, a family getting out of a nice SUV greet the Traveler in English. He tells them he's American.
“We live in America too!” is their eager response. “My sons were born there!”
Good to see American Armenians holding their ties with their Motherland, even in these challenging times...
It's a pleasant hike along the Arpi River... stopping for a kebab meal at a family run restaurant right next to the river... Another swim in the river, which he kind of regrets this time, as the water is starting to smell a bit fishy... He quickens his pace a bit, wanting to reach Vayk before evening.
But when he's passing through an seemingly abandoned touristy compound, and young fellow insists “come join my family for a drink!” and the Traveler decides to accept.
The go to the other side of the building, next to the river, where about 18 people are sitting around a table covered with food. Big smiles and greetings all around when they hear he is America. An older man—apparently the patriarch of this clan immediately proposes a toast.
“Armenia!... America!” he clasps his hands together showing the unity of the two countries. Everyone cheers and joins in.
The fact that American president Biden just recently officially recognized the Armenian Genocide is something that is very appreciated by Armenians right now. When the Traveler says this is the first time this has happened, he is quickly corrected. “He was a history teacher” one of the fellows tells the Traveler about their patriarch, and they ask him who acknowledged the genocide for the first time...
Whenever this older man starts to speak, the whole table gets silent to listen. There's almost a godfatherly like air to this man and everyone shows him respect.
But overall the mood is not jovial. One of the fellows fought in last years war, and there is a lot of anger and suspicion about this. And for the first time, the Traveler senses that some of this suspicion is pointed at him. This fellow refuses to believe the Traveler's story that he is a “tourist who is just walking across Armenia for fun.”
“Nobody does this. You are hiding something. Tell us what you are really doing.” he insists repeatedly. The Traveler sticks to his story.
Today snap elections are being held. After Prime Minister Nikol Pashinyan signed a ceasefire and ceded most of the Artsakh/Karabagh territory to Azerbaijan, there was a lot of anger and protests. A mob even stormed the parliament and dragged out the speaker of the parliament and beat him. Many felt that the prime minister betrayed all the fellows who died in this war by accepting defeat. So his response was to have a snap election where people can elect a new parliament and thus have him removed if that's what the vote determines.
“If he isn't removed, we will leave Armenia” one of the fellows snarls.
There is plenty of anger to go around. Anger at Russia—who Armenian's thought was their staunchest ally who clearly allowed this invasion to happen. But some of the harshest words go in a surprising direction.
“We hate Georgia even more than Azerbaijan” someone says, much to the Traveler's surprise.
“Why?” he asks.
They
were Christians... then they became Muslims... then they became
Christians again. They didn't stick to what they were.” Sounds
like a bizarre reason to hate someone—especially considering that
Georgia is Armenia's only land gateway to Europe! He goes on “Georgia
doesn't take our side in the war against Azerbaijan”
The
Traveler could remind them that Armenia didn't rush to Georgia's
defense when it was attacked by Russia, either... but he figure's
he'd be wisest to keep his mouth shut. But he does feel he does need
to put in a word. He does the shaking hands jesture “For me...
Armenian people... friends... Georgia people... friends...
Azerbaijani people... friends... Problem: government” As he
clarifies that he has visited all these countries and met good people
and been treated well in every one.
Several times he's been asked the trick question: “which is better, Armenia or Azerbaijan?” and he has been careful to be honest without stirring up people's anger.
“Scenery in Armenia is more beautiful than Azerbaijan... but good people in both countries...” is his careful response.
The Traveler does find this atmosphere both exciting and troubling. He gets the sense that he is surrounded by people ready to go out and fight... start a revolution... He can understand and sympathize with their anger.
But he feels that, as long as folks like them are so locked into their perspective that paints “the others” as nothing but horrible monsters... they can't understand that, yeah, folks on the other side of the fence feel that same anger towards THEM... and still can't grasp that “the others” have weaponry that could wipe out Armenia—no matter how heroic and determined its defenders are... then there can be no enduring peace. And without an enduring peace, Armenia is on track to repeatedly fighting wars that it will probably lose, without outside help. And this is something this country really can't afford.
“So what country is the best friend of Armenia?” the Traveler asks.
They think for a bit. “France” is the response “they said they were on our side”. But the Traveler has only seen convoys with Russian flags, no French flags in sight.
A country that the Traveler would have expected to take the Armenian side was Israel. Both countries have a lot of similarities: both cultures endured a terrible genocide. Both finally got their own country after not having one for a very long time. But defied the odds and expanded their territory fighting armies much bigger than theirs. Both are surrounded by Muslim countries.
But no... Israel opted to support Muslim Azerbaijan instead, providing them with high tech weaponry.
The Traveler wonders if the American Evangelical community, which blindly supports Israel no matter what, in both word and action... if they realize that some of that support provided to Israel has been used to help Azeri Muslims... fight Armenian Christians...
Maybe the American evangelicals would reason “oh, they aren't our type of Christians... so they don't count...”
It's getting late and the Traveler needs to keep going. He feels the experience has been a success. He managed to slip in a few words here and there offering a different perspective on things, without stirring up people's anger even more. Even the guy who was suspicious of him finishes by saying. “I don't know who you are, or what you're doing... but I see that you're a good person”.
He shakes hands with everyone... and continues on up the road to Vayk, where he finishes of the day with a delicious dessert at the Food Court, then calls it a day.
Day
13: Life in the Village
28.3 kms, June 19, 2021
Vayk is a pleasant town, squeezed between the mountainside and the Arpi River. In the evening there are children playing... old folks sitting and gossiping—overall a feel that this town is quite alive, unlike some of the previous cities.
All is quiet in the morning as the Traveler pauses in the plaza for his official Vayk concert, the continues on up town through residential areas—and even sees some factories that still seem to be working. Right beyond the town, where the Arpi River starts to form a deeper gorge, there is a sign saying that, a few kilometers from here, artifacts were found dating back to the 1st of 2nd millenia BC. Seems to be quite a bit of history in this region. He passes a couple of khachkars—typical Armenian flat stone pillars with religious engravings on them, but no sign telling how old they are or how they got there.
It's not far and he has the chance to get off the highway to a side road to the town of Malishka. On the way, he comes across a danger he hadn't given much thought to: snakes. He's seen quite a few of them along the trails, but this one is different. When the Traveler tries to scoot it off the road so it doesn't get run over, the snake not only lunges, but chases after him. He doesn't know if it's poisonous or not—but realizes he'd better be more alert from now on.
Malishka is the typical sleepy, semi-rural town where folks have large gardens in the back. Almost everybody has well tended gardens here in this part of Armenia. It is reassuring to see that people do make an effort to be self-sufficient in ways like this.
A dusty Mercedez drives up and the driver, a young fellow asks the Traveler he's going. This guy thinks it's really cool that the Traveler is “hiking across Armenia” and immediately insists that he come in for coffee. So the Traveler enters this family compound, which includes a house a barn... a big garden and an area where animals are kept. It seems that four generations live here, and everyone seems happy to meet the Traveler. Even happier when he pulls out the guitar to provide a little entertainment.
The Traveler is intrigued trying to understand how the family economy works. In some ways the family might seem quite “poor” (the bathroom is a very basic outhouse). But the fellow also drives a Mercedez and clearly earns money elsewhere. And still, the family is also doing all they can to grow their own food... produce their own honey... milk their own cows. It seems to be a blend of the modern and traditional life.
A neighbor girl who speaks English is told to come over to translate, so the Traveler can have a proper conversation with the family. He is taken back to the orchard and loaded up with apricots for the road. It's a very heartwarming experience to be treated with kindness like this, simply because he is passing by. No politics discussed this time. Just down to earth stuff about village life...
Finally he continues on... making his way to the highway where there's a full size city not far away. Yeghagnadzor is the capital of the province, and the Traveler is eager to reach a city that he has absolutely no clue about—except that it seems lodging is plentiful here. So, even though the day is young, he decides to go ahead and stay the night here, and spend the rest of the day exploring the area. After coming across a couple of hotels that are closed, and one that is quite expensive... he finds a very nice family guesthouse run by a respectable looking older couple... takes a shower, then heads outside once again.
Yeghagnadzor doesn't have any super special attractions—but it does feel alive with various shops along its shady main boulevard... and a couple of nice plazas. Since the Traveler's expectations weren't very high, he's happy with this experience.
It also has a couple of suburbs up a side valley that the Traveler decides to check out. Gladzor feel like your typical semi-rural village with the walled in compounds, and a little war memorial plaza with a statue of a woman carrying a child. Right beyond it, there is one last suburb Vernashen with a church that is a historical landmark so the Traveler figures he should might as well check it out.
St Jacob's church doesn't look that impressive from the outside—just a windowless square stone building with a small door and som kachkars leaning outside. But a sign explains that this place is a great historic significance. This used to be Gladzor University, one of the “Great Institutes of Learning” established way back in 1280. It was here that students learned things like grammar, logic, Arithmatic, astronomy, chronology, philosophy—as well as being an important center for caligraphy.
Learning this, makes the Traveler wonder... what role did this focus on education have in instilling such a strong sense of identity in Armenians? He suspects it played a very important role. For the last 800 years since this university was founded, wave after wave of invader have swept through this region. Most cultures just ended up giving up, and taking on the identity of their invaders. Armenians did not. They've always held on to this sense that they are different—and must hold to their identity no matter what.
It's their blessing... and their curse.
With this in mind, the Traveler heads back towards Yeghaghnadzor, taking the winding back alleys down the valley. Back in town he finds a nice big arena that seems a perfect place to pull out his guitar. Some locals come to listen... teenagers... children... young families... as he dedicates a concert to this special, little known region...
Day 14: The World's Oldest Shoe
32 kms, June 20, 2021
Immediately to the west of Yeghaghadzor is a steep ridge, and right on other side is another long valley running north to south. It looks like there is a dirt path that winds up and over the ridge, so the Traveler heads over to explore it first thing in the morning. On the other side he is greeted by a panorama of a long fertile valley, narrow, but wide enough to allow for orchards and vineyards in and around the village of Getap. Here the Traveler is approaching Armenia's famed wine region, which is in itself a tourist attraction.
He heads on up north as the Getap valley meets the Arpi River valley, which turns into yet another picturesque gorge. Along the way there are some upscale restaurants, plenty of shops—as well as lots of local vendors selling plastic jugs of homemade wine, it seems.
It is nice to see that tourism (which is probably mostly national tourism) is providing some income for the locals. Although, seeing so many vendors, the Traveler gets the impression that most of them aren't making a lot of money.
But despite it being more “touristy”, there is still plenty of authentic Armenian hospitality as well. When the Traveler stops at a shop to buy a drink in the village of Areni, the shopkeeper, an older man insists on having him sit and join him for coffee as they attempt to chat about life in the village. The fellow is shows pictures of his children and is quite proud of their accomplishments. He tells the Traveler that he really needs to check out a archaeological site right up the road where his daughter works.
When the Traveler gets up to leave, the shopkeeper loads him up with snacks, and refuses to let him pay...
The Traveler continues on, feeling a little bit guilty about this one-way hospitality system. “Maybe I should just carry a bunch of little gifts with me that I can give to people as thank yous...” he wonders...
Soon he reaches the site: Areni Cave 1. Unlike almost all the “attractions the tourist has visited, this one actually has an entry fee—which he is actually happy to see. It's good to see some revenue being generated with Armenia's many amazing attractions.
And Areni cave is no ordinary cave. It's a large opening in the side of a cliff, that quickly shrinks into a small natural entryway into the underworld. A cave that has been in use for, well... a very, very long time. There's an on going excavation with an area by the entrance carefully divided into square... more excavations further inside. In some place you can see excavations going on under excavation.
Turns out this cave hold's the Guiness record for multiple things, including the World's Oldest Leather Shoe (dating back to the Copper Age around 5,500 years ago )... the World's Oldest Winepress (you can still see some of the giant pots once used to preserve wine here, it's dated about 6,100 years ago)... AND the World's Oldest Humanoid Brain tissue, dated about 6,000 years ago.
The Traveler is particularly intrigued at how and why humans started using shoes. He decides to research a little further, and finds out that, according to Livescience.com, the oldest known shoe is actually about 10,000 years old, however some anthropoligist calculate that humans started wearing shoes about 40,000 years ago. Why do they say that? Because they noticed changes in how human's distributed weight and that their toes got smaller and wimpier.
Seeing people in some parts of the world who manage to get around just fine without any footwear has made the Traveler wonder, are shoes really a necessity in warmer climates? One have they made us physically less tough as a species?
The discovery in this cave is a reminder that, at one point, someone decided to wrap a piece of leather around his foot, whether just for the comfort, or out of necessity... changing forever how humans treat their bodies.
Archaeological digs here have uncovered multiple layers of human activity. It seems to have been a place for living, as well as ceremonial site—and probably a hiding place during less peaceful times. The early culture that lived here are known as the Kura Araxes people, who were scattered across the Caucasus and beyond, long before the sharp distinctions that were drawn between the cultures of today. Now, an Armenian flag waves proudly at the entrance making the statement, “This is Armenia”. The Traveler does see, for the first time, a couple groups of Russian tourists coming to appreciate the universal value of this place...
The Traveler sits at the entrance to soak it all in, gazing out to the Arpi River below, and cliffs beyond... then heads across the road to a nice restaurant/pool complex to have some lunch.
There's a side road here that follows the base of a what looks like a beautiful canyon, which takes you to Noravank Monastery, some 8 kilometers away. So far the Traveler has been eager to take little side trips along the way, and here he is tempted to to do it again.
The problem is, it's been very hot lately, and this is starting to wear him down. He realizes he needs to ration his energy, and not push himself too hard in one day. So... he reluctantly decides to skip this side trip. “I've seen a lot of monastaries and canyons already...” he tries to reassure himself.
He does take a much shorter side trip to the modern town of Areni. Here he finds a mix of traditional semi-rural homes surrounded by gardens—and what looks like a big hotel being built between the cliffs and the Arpi River. It seems someone is optimistic about the future of tourism in this region. A big statue of a wine barrel welcomes you to the town, a symbol of this region's wine culture which goes back, it seems, over 6,000 years.
The Traveler does a look around town... pausing in a shady little plaza to pull out his guitar for a strum, joined by a couple of local youth, the a couple of older fellows.
Here, the Arpi River flows south into the Nakhchivan exclave of Azerbaijan, just a few miles away. Obviously the Traveler—nor anyone else—can't go that route. So he bids farewell to yet another river hike, and follows the main road to Yereven. He reaches Chiva, a sleepy village—but it supposedly has several guesthouses, so he figures he should stay the night here. He finds one that is open and is welcomed by an older couple, their adult son, as well as two other guests. The Traveler is pleasantly surprised to hear that the hosts speak French, so they're able to converse.
Turns out, the other guests are refugees from Artsakh who lost their homes and are living here at this guesthouse. They don't seem to want to talk much about their experience, but their is a definite sadness to their faces.
The Traveler had been wondering what happened to the 40,000 refugees that were forced to leave during the war, and cannot return because their homes are now in “Azerbaijan” according to the new map. He hasn't seen any refugee camps—or anybody who looks homeless, for that matter, in the last two weeks. It's quite a contrast with what he will see later in the super-wealthy country of the USA with tens of thousands of people living in tents on the streets of cities like Denver, Portland and Los Angeles.
It seems—and later he confirms—many Armenians have seen it as their civic duty to take in refugees. There is a sense of solidarity with their fellow Armenians who lost their homes in this tragic war.
But there is another side as well, which he later learns about. The Armenian government had been providing “incentives” for folks to move to Artsakh, a place with very little economic activity. So what kind of jobs would they have there? Well, they didn't really have jobs, they were just basically paid to live there as “government contractors”.
The Traveler isn't able to confirm this, but it does get him scratching his head... Why was Armenia clinging to Artsakh so fiercely, when they were constantly losing money there?
“There is no Armenia without Artsakh” a die hard supporter of the cause posts.
When the Traveler later tells this to an Armenian skeptic of the whole operation, his response is “I'd say it's the opposite... there will be nor Armenia if we keep clinging to Artsakh”...
For now, the Traveler simply tries to empathize with the feeling these guys must be having... seeing everything that they had a and believed in, taken away...
He finishes off with a walk through the countryside, gaze out to the wide open fields and montains... and calls it a day.
Day 15: The First Glimpse of Ararat
33.8 kms, Jun 21, 2021
The next morning the Traveler is off at dawn. It's going to be even hotter today, and he wants to cover as much grown as possible before the heat kicks in. Enduring blistering heat isn't something he had though he would have to worry about on coming to Europe—especially in a mountainous country like Armenia. But it turns out that, especially in the Ararat Valley around Yerevan, it gets very hot in the summer. Today it might even top 40 C degrees.
The Traveler has been giving this some thought. The main purpose of this hike is enjoyment. He knows he's not trying to prove anything to anyone or accomplish some amazing physical feat. So if the hike becomes a miserable slog... well, he's going to have to call it off or postpone it.
He's even tempted to “jump ahead” and do a hike through a cooler area, and then come back and do this part later when the temperature goes down. But in the end he's decided that he will focus on early morning hikes... and not push himself too hard each day.
So
the day starts off well, watching the day wake up over the Chiva
valley, as he follows a hardly used country road. He does take a
little detour to wander up and down the farm village of Yelpin,
where the valley comes to an end, and the road starts climbing up
the steep, arid mountainside.
The Traveler takes few minutes to
gaze back at this valley—and the Arpi River Basin, thinking of all
he has experienced in the last 3 days. Right up ahead he will cross
into Ararat Province, leaving the Vayots Dzor region behind...
So he heads over yet another pass, leaving the Arpi River Basin behind. Here again, there's an immediate change in landscape. This side is a lot dryer and desertlike, with streams being either a trickle or completely dry. It seems a a bit ironic that, as the Traveler gets closer to the economic heart of modern Armenia, the land feels more and more inhospitable.
There is an exception. The village of Zangakatun is an oasis of green, and the Traveler takes his time wandering the back alleys, never quite sure if he's headed for a dead end if he's following a pathway across the village. Here, instead of walled in compounds, he sees very basic homes where people look very poor, by European standards.
An old lady stares at him inquisitively. He asks if he's on the right way to get back to the highway, and she says yes... but he ends up at a dead end, and has to come back the same way, feeling a bit sheepish. Nobody seems to treat him with suspicion though.
He makes it back to the highway. Here there is a sign telling of the history of this village. It tells how, during the “Great Displacement”, folks from this village were forced to resettle in the Salmast province of Persia. Then, in the Russo-Persian War of 1826, folks migrated back here again. It also mentions that the great Armenian poet, Paruyr Sevak was born here.
Several people the Traveler has met have mentioned that their families immigrated from Persia/Iran—where there is still an Armenian community, protected by the government. Most folks are either neutral, or have a a positive image of Iran and its relationship with Armenia—although no one seems interested in visiting the country. While Armenia does have a painful history with the Persians, it seems that, since the historical relationship with the Turks and Azeris is so much more painful, Iran seems like the nice, friendly neighbor in comparison.
The Traveler continues on, following the highway as it follows the jagged slopes of these bone dry mountains. After the pleasant, green valleys yesterday, it feels like this road is taking him to an inhospitable wilderness. There is another village visible up the steep slope. The Traveler decides to climb up to take a look at it... only to find that it's pretty much empty—just a couple of boxy buildings and farmhouses, looking pretty bleak and abandoned. Considering how miserable hot it is, he really regrets making the climb and doesn't even count Ursalanj as a “town”.
And the he sees it. Going around a bend... peeking up from behind a bone dry ridge... is the top of a mountain, completely covered with snow. The Traveler immediately knows what it is. It can be none other that the great Mount Ararat.
That sight invigorates the Traveler, and makes him forget how hot it is for a moment. It is ironic that the weather is getting hotter and hotter as he gets closer to the snowiest mountain he has seen so far. And he knows this mountain is symbolic of so many things. Even though he won't be able to visit it, for now, just getting close to it, is going have a special significance, he is sure.
Mt Ararat, is an important mountain in religious mythology, as it is said to be the resting place for Noah's Ark, after the flood that covered the world in water. And for centuries it was the symbol and in the heartland of the Armenian Empire. Today... it is still considere the symbol of Armenia, even though it is in present day Turkey. Armenians can gaze up at it wistfully from their capital Yerevan, but not visit it.
And for the Traveler? It means that, after 2 weeks of trudging through the mountains, he's finally getting close to a big city, with all the comforts and conveniences that that entails. And he is determined to relax and pamper himself once he reaches Yerevan, right across from this mountain.
But he's still got a couple days' hiking to go. And right up ahead, there's a fork in the road with two choices for getting to Yerevan and the Ararat Valley: a lesser used road the meanders on through the mountains, and a more direct route along the main highway, straight to the valley. The Traveler opts for the straight way—even though he knows, the rule is: avoid highways whenever you can.
The Azerbaijani former Exclave
There's another reason for following the highway. According to Google Maps, the highway goes right smack through a little Azerbaijiani exclave, right in the middle of Armenia!
The Traveler is curious, what's up with that? So he looks it up, and it turns out that Tigranashen was part of Azerbaijan, with an Azeri population, back during Soviet times, but during the war, all Azeris were driven out, and it was fully absorbed into Armenia. Apparently the “official” borders haven't changed, so Google maps is going by what is official: Tragranashen is still part of Azerbaijan.
Up over yet another desert ridge, and there it is. Nothing all that special about this little village. It does have a well maintained irrigated vineyard, making the valley look alive in contrast with the dry mountains around. The Traveler heads down a shortcut into the village, soaking in everythign around. On one side, is what looks like a school building. It looks in very bad shape—but seems to still be being used for something, with people in it.
Up ahead is a cemetery. But this one looks different. Instead of the low walled family plots, it has pillars that are more typical of Muslim cemeteries. And many of these pillars look damaged and broken.
The Traveler gets a sudden chill at this sight, as it hits him: probably this was an Azeri cemetery, that the Armenians vandalized after the Azeris were driven out. It was not enough to cause suffering to the living. They also insulted the dead.
The Traveler wants to get a closer look and take some pictures, but he gets the feeling that he's being watched. And he also realizes that this is not the sort of thing Armenians want the outside world to see. They're narrative has always been “we were the victims simply fighting to defend ourselves”. They don't want to be seen as folks who practice ethnic cleansing and then desecrate the graves of the families of those forced to leave.
Later the Traveler reads an Armenian article expressing outrage about Azeris destroying old Armenian cemeteries. The article clearly states that “Armenians would never do something like that...”
The Traveler greets a couple of children as he passes. There are rural family compounds with gardens here—but no shops or commerce of any sort. Then at the far end, is a two pronged pillar, a memorial of sorts, probably to the conquest of this village.
The Traveler rests under a tree trying to let this all sink in. Part of him can understand how people's rage could lead them to do something like this. But he also realizes that, with this going on on both sides of the conflict, it makes it going to make it really, really hard for people to forgive and move on. Losing young men in battle is one thing. For your grandparents to not be able to rest in peace because their graves have been desecrated is another. He gets the sinking feeling that this fighting is going to be going on for a very, very long time. And it doesn't look like it's going to go well for Armenia.
He continues on, through the barren landscape. He finally reaches another village, named after the poet Paruyr Sevak, which has shops. The shop is closed, but a lady passing by seems to imply that she's coming back and will open soon... so he waits... and finally enjoys a cold drink and continues on.
The heat is withering—and no shade anywhere along the way. Finally the Traveler figures he shouldn't push himself any farther, and accepts a ride down into the valley. Tomorrow he'll come back and pickis up where he left off.
His driver seems like a reasonably well off fellow who speaks good English. “I work for a solar energy company” he tells the Traveler. “things are actually going very well. Armenia gets a lot of sunlight, and people prefer solar because it's cheaper than regular electricity.”
“So is it expensive to import solar panels here to Armenia?” the Traveler asks.
“We actually have our own solar panel factory!” is the response, which is a welcome surprise. It gives the Traveler another perspective on this country, that from what he has seen so far, doesn't have a very productive economy. He's looking forward to experiencing Greater Yerevan, which he gets the feeling is going to be world's away from the relatively poor and empty south side of the country.
For tonight, he'll just stay at a hotel in the town of Ararat, so he can quickly come back and finish his hike tomorrow.
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