Armenia

Medieval illuminated manuscript in the Yerevan manuscripts museum

I'm sitting in my first class sleeper train compartment from Yerevan to Tblisi. The first class compartments are for two passengers, second class four, and then third class is the ordinary seats you're used to seeing on a train. I wasn't paying much attention when I booked this, though. It is supposed to be the night train, arriving in Tblisi, Georgia, sometime before noon. Sleeper compartments are more expensive, but I look at them as my hotel room for the night. However they recently changed the times and it didn't dawn on me until after I bought the ticket. The train now it leaves at 3:15 pm. This means I will be getting into the train station between midnight and 1 am. So, what the heck am I to do in the middle of the night once I get to the city? I guess I'll find out!

The last several days have been my last in Armenia. I arrived on the marshrutka from Karabakh Wednesday afternoon. For most of it, it was my least comfortable marshrutka ride so far. I got stuck in the back row of seats next to a guy who wanted to spread out half into my seat. I fought off channeling the old days of riding in the back seat of my parents' car to visit grandparents. "Mom! Tony's touching me!" or "He's on my side of the seat, Mom!" Partway through, a passenger got off, though, and I leaped at the chance to move my seat. The ride was scenic - especially Karabakh's portion of hairpin turns and switchbacks. Once again, we had kids on board whose stomachs couldn't take it and they hurled a number of times on the ride. At least the mom was prepared with grocery bags to use as "barf bags"!

I checked into my hotel in Yerevan, sorted my clothes and turned in a huge batch of laundry. I decided to take this chance to wash everything over the next two days. I also went online, caught up with my blog, and got ahold of Sigrid to see if she'd have any time to finally get to the Genocide Museum. By the time I got sorted out, all the museums were closed (most close at 4 pm). I did get to the train station to buy my ticket for this ride. Once back at the hotel, I planned my next day and a half of sightseeing.

The Manuscripts Museum in Yerevan, Armenia

Thursday began with me finally getting to the Manuscripts Museum. The building is a huge, 4-story structure. However, most of it is devoted to preservation and restoration work. Only two rooms of the building are actually for visitors. There was quite a variety packed into those two rooms, though! Everything from strips of birch tree bark with early Russian religious writings through Islamic manuscripts to Renaissance era map atlases. The highlight of the museum is its medieval era illuminated manuscripts. The pictures in them were still bright and colorful. I took numerous photos (without a flash) and no one objected.

Next up was the State Museum of History. I was told "No photographs!" There was an unsmiling Armenian matron on hand in each room to enforce it and redirect you if you appeared to want to explore the museum out of the proscribed order. To spite them, I decided to see the second floor before the third. You are supposed to start at the top and work your way down. It is arranged chronologically, earliest upstairs to modern stuff on the ground level. The second floor, where I started was the medieval and Renaissance era artifacts. Almost none of the information was in anything but Armenian or Russian. It was mostly bright glazed ceramics from Persia or other Middle Eastern sources. Pretty to look at, but not what I'd really came for.

Cuneiform tablet in Armenia's State Museum of History

The third floor had the Bronze Age artifacts from the early kingdom of Urartu. Armenians trace their descent from that kingdom. There were huge, inscribed bronze shields, helmets, axes and maces, and even bronze scale armor. One thing that surprised me was the ritual burial wagons. Theses were not designed to move, but to bury an important person inside. They had two reconstructed from fragments there and I SO wanted to take a picture of them. But Olga was keeping a stink eye on the decadent Western tourist, so I held off. However, when I got to the massive stone blocks inscribed in cuneiform, an Italian tour group provided the distraction I needed. God bless my kin from the "old country," but they tend to travel in packs and make a scene in museums or at historic sights. All of the Armenian former KGB matrons closed in around them like sharks. They were sure they would do something wrong, so I was left momentarily unobserved. My camera was out in a flash, and with my body shielding what I was doing, I snapped a few shots. The Italians made enough noise to mask the "beep-beep" of the camera's auto-focus. Who knows? Maybe after I finish teaching I have a future with the CIA!

The bottom floor was a snore, being mostly carpets with no English explanations. Oriental carpets are neat, but really? How many can you look at? I checked out the gift shop, but didn't find anything interesting. For lunch, I decided to try out a supposedly American style restaurant with free (but weak) Wi-fi. The receptionist at my hotel, Lilit, said it wasn't that good, but it was close and I was hot, so I ducked into its air conditioning. The food wasn't great, so I probably should have listened to her. She was incredibly helpful to me over the course of my two stays there - negotiating my taxi excursion to Garni and Geghard, writing down in Armenian what I needed for my train ticket for the cashiers at the station, and giving me insight into Armenian culture and current trends.

Ruins of the bronze age Urartu citadel, Erebuni, Armenia

After lunch, I took the 25-cent subway ride and 1.50 taxi to Erebuni, a hill on Yerevan's south side that contains the ruins of a Bronze Age citadel. My guidebook had slammed the fort's museum, but they must not have visited it since its upgrade. I found the exhibits interesting and thoroughly described in about five languages (including English). Turns out that Lilit had done the Italian translations for the museum in a previous job. There was a reconstruction of a Urartu chariot, along with ceramics, weapons and armor, actual frescoes cut free from the ruins of walls, and more.

The highlight, of course, was the climb up the the ruins of the citadel on top of the hill. Although Erebuni is not the most picturesque set of ruins I've visited,it is always cool to poke around buildings, walls and artifacts 3,000 years old. The walls were reconstructed by Soviet archeologists, who then poured a layer of concrete on top to hold it all together. They're about eight feet high through most of the complex, but I found portions where I could scramble on top of them and give myself a better camera angle. For the most part, I had the entire complex to myself. I took my time, looking out over Yerevan spread out beneath me, and tried to picture it in its glory.

Museums are hard on my back, for some reason. I think it is walking along for hours with a slight hunched over pose to look at items in glass cases. So, three museums in one day pretty much wiped me out.

The Blue Mosque in Yerevan, Armenia

Lilit had arranged for my last half day in Yerevan to be less stressful. She said I could stay in my room and not check out until it was time for my train. So, after breakfast, I walked about a mile or so to the Blue Mosque. Built in the 1700s, it is the last functioning mosque in the city. The fiercely-Christian Armenians endured centuries of rule by Muslim Turks, Arabs, or Persians, when there were many more mosques in the country. The mosque's courtyard was a peaceful enclave off of a busy street, with trees and gardens. The tiled dome and minaret were a splash of bright blue amidst the gray and apricot colored stone of most Yerevan buildings. Although the mosque itself was closed, it was neat to wander inside the courtyard and photograph the buildings.

Next, I hopped a cab for my long-delayed visit to the Genocide Museum. When Sigrid and I had tried to visit last week, it had been closed for a holiday. I arrived before it opened and waited around until 11 am. There was a huge group of Americans from various Masonic lodges visiting, all decked out in suits and ties. Although the museum staff tried to rope me into a group tour, I broke free immediately to visit it on my own. The main part of the museum consists of two rows of impressively laid out glass cases with various documents, photographs, books, newspapers and magazines. They all document the genocide of 1.5 million Armenians that was carried out by the Ottoman Turks during World War I. There are reports from ambassadors, military personnel, aid workers, and even official Turkish government drafts that document the atrocity.

The Genocide Museum, Yerevan, Armenia

Why did they do it? First off, the Turkish government has never officially acknowledged or apologized for the massacres. This is unlike Germany, which HAS come forward and tried to make amends for Nazi persecution and execution of Jews during the Holocaust. At this time in Turkey's history, it was suffering a long decline from its Renaissance era power. They were losing provinces left and right. They had already lost the Eastern part of Armenia, and the other world leaders were clamoring for them to surrender the Western part so Armenia could have a unified nation. As you can imagine, the Turks weren't crazy about chopping off another chunk of their empire. So, some within the government thought that if it was the Armenians that were the problem, they could solve that. "No Armenians, no problem." So, they sent out their troops to round up all the Armenian men and take them into custody. The Armenian women and children were forced to march out of their villages into the deserts of the Middle East. There, thousands died of starvation and disease. The men, on the other hand, were simply taken to remote locations and shot. The museum documents all this mainly through observers from all nations - European, eastern and American. Although the museum is smaller than the Holocaust Museum in Washington D.C.,the effects the same. The thing I wondered after my visit was not how this could have happened. Instead, I wondered how many other times in history did this happen, undocumented, without the modern media of the world to call attention to it? How many other empires and kingdoms have slaughtered people because of their race or culture? It is kind of chilling when you think about. Do those dead photographed and enlarged on the museum walls have countless silent sisters and brothers in mass graves on every continent?

Perhaps this is too morbid a thought to ponder on a sunny train ride through the Armenian hills. It is what the museum made me think, though, which is perhaps the true purpose of these types of monuments.

Armenian girls intraditional dress prepare for a religious cermony at Tatev Monastery

So far, Armenia's mystery holiday had caused me nothing but grief - closing the museums I was looking forward to visiting and turning The Cascade into a waterless oven. Today, though, it was working out for me. Sigrid was able to do a day trip from Yerevan with me. She had been wanting to visit the monasteries of Noravank and Tatev since she'd been there. With only three weeks left in her journalist assignment, she was running out of chances. She found a tour company that would take us to those places plus Zorats Karer, a Stonehenge like stone circle that was on my list.

There were 15 of us in our tour bus, along with a guide and driver. Most of the tourists were Armenian or visiting Armenian-Americans. There was also a German lady (who was also working in Yerevan) and her mother. The guide promptly launched into lengthy commentary as we got underway. She would say her spiel first in Armenian, then in English. As a teacher, I thought it was funny that she didn't put up with people in the bus talking while she was. She shushed Sigrid and I, along with a family of Armenians.

Noravank Monastery, Armenia

Our first monastery was set high on a hill of red stone. The two churches were both constructed with local stone, which gave them a warm red-gold glow as the morning sun struck them. The sky was a bright blue, combined with our lofty location, made for an amazing panorama. The churches were intricately carved, and the guide pointed out significant points. For example, Christians do not usually depict God's face in art, but above one of the doors was a bearded, patriarchal looking God bestowing a blessing on all who entered. Rich, detailed carvings covered both inside and out. As I'd seen in the monasteries of the Debed Canyon, many people were buried inside and outside the church. You often had to step on their tombstones to enter the doorways. She pointed out lions on some of the tombstones, which in Armenian tradition meant the man was a warrior who'd died bravely in battle.

One church had a second story chapel you had to climb steep, narrow stairs to reach. The stairs and area around them were intricately carved, so tourist were lining up to get photos of the posed atop the staircase. When there was a break in the action, I asked Sigrid if she wanted her picture atop the stairs. That was when I found out she was afraid of heights - which would come into play l later in the day. Unlike most of the monasteries I've visited in Armenia, the second story chapel was bright and airy, it's dome pierced by opening to let in light. Out tour gave us an hour at Noravank, which we appreciated. I am not a fan of guided tours, normally, but I never really felt rushed on this one...which would ALSO come into play, later!

Wings of Tatev cable car to the monastery

Next up was a lengthy drive to Tatev. Up until recently, Tatev was simply too far south for day trippers to visit. It is reached only winding mountain roads with switchback after switchback. Well, in stepped a Western European consortium headed by the Swiss to rescue this situation. They built a cable car line nearly seven miles long that floated over the final two steep mountain valleys. That seems all in good on the surface. More people will be able to visit this historic monastery perched on its cliff edge. There was only one problem with the master watch makers' idea: there are only two car on the line, each holding 25 people. The journey takes 11 minutes. So, if there are 50 people in line in front of you, you're waiting about a half hour. What if it is a special, mystery holiday and hordes of Armenians decided that makes it a perfect opportunity to finally visit Tatev? And what if your tour company decides the now overloaded and swamped restaurant at the cable car origin is where the group will have lunch? Hmmm...of all the things for the Swiss to NOT factor in - time!

Sigrid, the Germans and I had decided to skip the overpriced restaurant and head straight to the cable car (called the "Wings of Tatev"). So, while the rest of the bus was waiting to be served their lengthy, four course lunch, we waited nearly an hour and then rode the cable car over. Of course, we had to fight off the voracious Armenian line jumpers (old ladies are the worst, by the way). Eventually, Germans, Italian and American flared our elbows and formed our own line version of NATO to hold off the ravening hordes of line jumpers.

Tatev Monastery, Armenia

Once finally in the cable car, Sigrid's fear of heights kicked in. She was brave, though, and didn't let out a peep when we crossed the two mid-point towers that buoy up the cable line. Once you pass the tower, the cable car momentarily becomes a roller coaster picking up speed as it zooms downward. The view that I could see was spectacular, but we were jammed in like sardines. Today was when I learned not only do Armenians have a different alphabet, they count to 25 differently, too. We had more than 30 squeezed aboard.

Tateve was interesting, but both Sigrid and I felt other Armenian monasteries are nicer. The location is spectacular, true. But the ruins themselves were less impressive than others we'd each visited. Have I become jaded and "monasteried" out? I don't think so. I loved Noravank. Anyway, Sigrid and I took our time, knowing the rest of the group was far behind us, as the line had gotten worse by the time we boarded our cable car. Nevertheless, we both began to get nervous when the t of our group didn't show up. Finally, fearing the worst, we decided to head back. As we waited to board, we examined each group debarking, but didn't see the others. When we ourselves got offon the other side, we did not see them waiting in line. Had they given up and left without us?

No, of course not. We found the Germans already on the other side and they explained that the rest of our bus had been going over to Tatev while we were riding back. So, the four of us sat down and waited. It was a beautiful, cool summer day, so we didn't mind waiting. At first. Cable car after cable car returned without the rest of our group. We continued to wait. It was a full two hours before everyone from our tour bus was back from Tatev. I gave the guide a little feedback, saying they should find a restaurant that didn't have the potential to be overcrowded like this for their lunch stop.

Look like Scotland? Sure did to me!

Of course the long wait made everyone less enthusiastic about our final stop, the Armenian "Stonehenge." It was built around 1500 BC according to archeologists. There's a humorous (for visitors) thing that goes on when you visit Armenia. Everything happened first in Armenia. So, even though Zorats Karer is an estimated 1,500 years younger than Stonehenge, our Armenian guide claimed it predated Stonehenge. What's more, she suggested Stonehenge was built by Armenians who'd immigrated to Britain! Whatever it's age, I'm sure it was just a pile of rocks to many in our bus. To me, a history buff and teacher, it was great. Many of the stones have holes drilled in them by the builders to line up with stars. It is for this reason, it is considered an astronomical observatory by many. Just as Stonehenge was built to foretell each season, many think Zorats Karer did the same.

Once we finished our visit, all that was.eft was the long, three and a half hour drive backup to Yerevan. Although others slept, Sigrid and I filled the time talking about our lives, plans and goals. She is a very driven young woman who should go far in the world. After she finished her journalism job inYerevan, she has a fellowship in Germany next. She's weighing her options to either pursue a journalism career, or one in a more international role like with the United Nations, USAID, etc. My only disappointment was she didn't buy my Loch Ness monster story - everyone normally gets goosebumps on that one!

Though it was a long day, Sigrid and I saw many cool sights and had a great "mystery holiday" weekend together.

Mountain scenery, Armenia

Much as we would love everything to go perfect and exactly as planned, that's simply not life. My time in Yerevan is an excellent example of that. As you know if you read my earlier entries, the museums are all closed for the 4-day weekend. My hostel sucked, though I must admit, travelers much younger than me raved about it. I hated it so much, though, that I stayed up late and found a hotel to stay at for Friday and Saturday. So much for the bumps, now let's hear about the good places that the road of travel takes us.

I met Sigrid this morning outside of my ex-hostel. I explained that I'd checked out, and she letme stow my backpack at her apartment while we went sightseeing. It was great having a local to help get around the city. Sigrid is a U.S. and Italian citizen working as a journalist for the summer in Yerevan. She speaks good Russian, which in Georgia and Armenia, is the best "other" language to speak. We never got ripped off by the taxis we took today with Sigrid along! Anyway, we'd planned on seeing the Armenian Genocide Museum together, along with the "Mother Armenia" statue that overlooks the city from a hill not far away from where I'd been staying. I was worried the museum would be closed, but she'd checked the website which said it would be open.

Eternal flame at Genocide Museum in Yerevan, Armenia

We taxied from her place to Victory Park, where the statue is located. It is also the scene of a half-derelict amusement park. Sigrid was reminded of "I Am Legend," while I channelled Mad Max. We found the statue (harder than you think, because the park is forested) and snapped some photos. We were both drawn to the panorama of the city spread out beneath us. As a bonus, Mt. Ararat was "out." those who have been to Seattle or similar places will understand how a looming snow-capped mountain can managed to be cloaked by cloud, smog or heat haze for a good part of the year. Then you wake up on a clear morning and say, "Wow!" After some photos, we circled Mother Armenia, and I took pictures of the Soviet tanks for my military history friends. I joked that my buddies could rattle off which tank it was, but the best I could do was it began with a "T."

From there we descended into town via the Cascade, which I'd visited yesterday. Still no water, still baking hot. I was reminded of how I once visited Monte Verde Cloud Forest and managed a sunny day! After a stroll through town, we caught a cab to the Genocide Museum, which is also outside of downtown Yerevan. Guesssss what? It. Was. Closed. Sigrid felt awful about it, but I suggested we check out the monuments outside the museum while we were here. For those who don't know what the Armenian Genocide was, here's a quick summary. Following WW I, Armenia became independent, again. They'd been ruled by the Turkish Empire for centuries. With Turkey one of WW I's losers, they tried to reclaim their ancient and medieval kingdom. Turkey and Russia decided that it wasn't in THEIR best interests, and essentially split it up. The Armenians fought for their freedom, which Turkey countered with a brutal genocide on Armenians living in their lands. Best estimates by historians are that one to one and a half million Armenians were slaughtered by the Turkish authorities. It is a crime Turkey still refuses to acknowledge, today - much to their shame.

We visited the eternal flame burning in honor of the dead, along with the trees planted by courageous world leaders who spurn Turkey's heavy handedness to deny genocide. Our own President Obama still tiptoes around the issue and uses words like "massacre" and "atrocity" but lacks the guts to say "genocide." This museum tells the facts of the event, and I was really disappointed to not get a chance to see it.

Sigrid and I had abut of an adventure getting back to the city (we hadn't paid our taxi to wait on us), but made it back. We split up - me to check in to my new hotel and her to work on visas for her upcoming adventure in "the Stans" (Uzbekistan, Kazakistan, etc.). I thought it was interesting that her destination - which she leaves Yerevan for at the end of July - was one of my potential choices for this trip.

My new hotel, which appears to be a venture by the American University of Armenia, was perfect. I felt my stress melt away as I unpacked in the small, but fully "Western style" hotel. I asked the receptionist if the hotel arranged trips to nearby sites with taxi drivers, and she said yes. She negotiated a great rate for an excursion to Garni and Geghard - two prime sites on my list of things to see in Armenia.

Greek-era Garni Temple, Armenia

So, for $20 the hotel had set me up transportation to the two sites, which are a serious distance outside of town. Garni is a 1st century BC temple from the time when Armenia was a buffer state between Ancient Rome and Persia. Both sides wanted Armenia on their side, but wanted Armenia weak and willing to do their will. Garni's temple is a small, Greek style temple, but set on a drop-dead gorgeous hillside. I circled the temple like a shark, snapping pictures. They had some really good "Gladiator" style theme music playing on speakers. Like all ancient sites, it was right up my alley. I had a great time experiencing it - even though there isn't uh to explore. The temple is in great shape and been fairly extensively reconstructed. So, I enjoyed it.

Geghard Monastery, Armenia

Next up was Geghard Monastery, set in an even more drop-dead stunning wooded canyon. Some do it is carved directly out of the rocklike Varrzia in Georgia. Other parts are free standing churches, like Haghpat and Sanahin. It was a popular place, and fairly packed with tourists - most of them Armenians. I had a great time, exploring the different buildings and caves, shaking my head and saying "wow!" time after time. The intricate carving on the walls, pillars, and altars was amazing. By the way, my taxi driver never made any attempt to hurry me along, instead kicking back and relaxing while I explored. so, I took my time, took photos, and generally absorbed the incredibly cool medieval vibe of the place.

So, my day showed that there are always ups and downs when you travel. Meeting and talking travel with a kindred spirit like Sigrid would have been the highlight of any day. Pairing that with two awesome ancient and medieval sights made a day that started out bumpy end spectacular. And of course - having a nice hotel room to go back to doesn't hurt, either!

Carved stone katchkars at Geghard Monastery, Armenia

View from The Cascade, Yerevan, Armenia

I had my best marshrutka raided the trip so far, on my way from Vanadzor to Yerevan, Armenia. The seats were comfy, it wasn't full, and we stopped topick up only 1 person during the two hour ride. Since the marshrutka pulls in at a bus station far outside of the center of town, I splurged on a cab ride to my hostel. As it turned out, the cab driver ripped me off...the hostel manager said I should have paid 1,000 dram ($2.50) not thr 2,000 ($5) I paid. Anyway, the owners of Penthouse Hostel are very nice and more than willing to help you with any travel arrangements or questions. By the way, it is called Penthouse because it is on the top floor - not because of any naked women inside!

My private room was a definite step down from Maghay B&B, where I stayed in Vanadzor. This makes two "highly rated" hostels (by Lonely Planet) that I have been less than impressed with. I was not crazy about Old Town Hostel in Tblisi, Georgia, either. I am paying $30 a night for my private room here. You'd think for that amount they could find sheets and mattress covers that fit the mattress - not fall several inches short all around. Or you'd think they could splurge for a chair, end table (or Heaven forbid) a desk. Heck, the room doesn't even have a trash can. There are all of two shared bathrooms for what lookalike a good 20 people staying here. I have half a mind to go back online, find something better, and check out of my penthouse.

The Cascade, Yerevan, Armenia

Anyway, enough whining about my accommodations - I have obviously outgrown the hostel. So, after unpacking, I took off to explore Yerevan. I had a few museums I was interested in seeing, along with other sights. Tomorrowi am meeting up with a friend of a friend who is working in Yerevan. I have been corresponding with Sigrid on Facebook, and she's been a good source of information. She has a long weekend because it is a national holiday. I quickly discovered the holiday meant the banks were all closed...and guess what else? The museums! So, that shot my day's plans all to Hell! So, I spent the day wandering the streets, people watching, and getting the lay of the land. The one thing I was able to check off my list was to visit The Cascade. This is a huge staircase like structure with fountains and pools on every level...except the fountains weren't running today. Maybe the water was on holiday, too? The view of the city from the non-cascading Cascade was pretty nice. You could see the twin peaks of Mt. Arafat - where the bible says Noah's ark landed. Arafat is a kind of a sacred mountain to Armenians, especially since it is across the border in Turkey.

My climb up and down the stone Cascade was hot...the sun beat down on the surface of the rock and reflected waves of heat back at me. Had the fountains been running, it would have cooled it down, but no such luck. From there, I sought shade in the park around the Opera House. I downed an iced tea and bought another bottle of water to replace the moisture in me. I meandered down the pedestrian street between Opera Square and Republic Square - where many government agencies (and closed museums) are located. I bought an ice cream cone and generally had a low key, relaxing day.

Republic Square, Yerevan, Armenia

In the evening, I hoofed to back down to Republic Square to watch the "singing fountains." it is essentially a sound and light show using the fountains and various music. Reminded me of the fountain show at....is it Bellagio in Las Vegas! Anyway, Yerevan is a very pleasant walk able city. I don't think I'd want to spend 4 days just walking around it. We'll see what tomorrow brings...hopefully more interesting things to do and see...

Singing Fountains in Yerevan, Armenia

Armenian bus - notice the natural gas tanks on top to power it

I had an extra day in Vanadzor and was trying to figure out what to do. I hadn't originally planned on hiring a car and driver, so I'd budgeted two days to see the monasteries I did yesterday. Lori Berd had intrigued me, so I picked that as my day's activity. No, that's not some Armenian lady. "Lori" is the region of Armenia that I was in, and "Berd" means castle in Armenian.

I decided to go cheap today (okay, no sarcastic "today?"...!). That meant public transport. For me, the jury is still out on the Armenian people. For every friendly, helpful person there seems to be a liar, scammer or just plain indifferent Armenian. I made it to the bus station about 10 minutes before the bus was to leave and looked around for one with my destination, Stepanavan. While I was looking, an older man came up to "help" me. I told him I was looking for the bus to Stepanavan. Of course, he replied there were no buses - only taxis. This is despite the town's own website listing the times, my guidebook and my B&B hosts. In fact, EVERY public transport I've taken in Armenia and Georgia except for one, somebody is there to lie to the foreign tourist and say they don't exist. And this from two supposedly incredibly welcoming nations.

To show the other side of the coin, I ignored the liar and went inside to the cashier. He said the next one was 10 am, but when I asked about the 8:30 one, he pointed me to the next window. A man who'd been watching me butcher his language helped me find the correct window. The cashier sold me the seat, looked at his watch, and got out of his booth and walked me to the bus. See what I mean? Well, that type of contradiction keeps on happening. When I got to Stepanavan, I decided to visit the self-proclaimed "friendly and helpful, English-speaking staff." I walked in the door and seeing what looked like just an ordinary business office, I asked in my pidgin Armenian if it was the right place. The man and woman did all but put their hands up in front of my face and told me to cool my heels in the hallway - apparently the friendly and helpful English speaker wasn't there, yet. I waited in the hallway, which had no chairs or anything to sit on, for about 20 minutes. I finally grabbed one of the Information Center's card which were in the hallway and opened the door, again, asking "open?". They furiously dialed somebody up on the phone, who told me the English speaker would be there in five minutes. I went outside to the little park nearby and gave them 20. When I returned, Mrs. Friendly & Helpful STILL wasn't there. I twisted their arms to give me one of the free maps they brag about on their website. Of course, it was all in Armenian. To be honest, I don't know if they have English language maps, but that is the implication on their website.

Entrance to ruined fort Lori Berd, Armenia

Disgusted, I left and went to snag a taxi to the castle. My feet were still a bit sore, so I decided to taxi the 2.7 miles out and walk back. I'm getting better at communicating with my dozen or so Armenian words, so had no problem getting the taxi driver to understand and also agree to what I'd read was the going rate (1,000 dram or roughly $2.50). I paid close attention on our route so that I could find my way back.

We arrived at the castle ruins with the sun shining under gorgeous blue skies. Lori Berd is even more ruined than Tmogvi, in Georgia. It is on a wide plateau with one side perched on the edge of a steep-sided river canyon. I began my explorations, just a bit disappointed. From the guidebook description, I was expecting it to be more imposing. Entering the arched gateway, I walked along the crumbled walls. Being a history buff, it is really hard to not get jazzed about poking among the ruins of a more than 1,000 year old castle! I reached the corner of the front walls and looked down at the river canyon. It was beautiful, with steep green sides and remnants of walls seeming to peek over the lip of the cliff at the rushing water.

River gorge near Stepanavan, Armenia

There were a few ruined buildings that I explored, too. One was obviously the castle chapel, and the interior arches reminded me of the monasteries from yesterday. For anyone reading this and planning their own trip to Armenia, I would say in hindsight that there really isn't enough at Lori Berd to justify a special trip. There was one more part df the site to check out, though. In another river gorge on the opposite wall is a humpbacked medieval bridge still standing strong. A rough trail leads down the steep canyon to it, and I shouldered my bag and began to descend. At times I wondered if the trail would peter out like the one at Tmogvi. It didn't, though. After about 10 minutes of playing mountain goat, I was standing on the solid bridge. Of course, I had to cross my arms and channel Monty Python, "None shall pass!"

Humpbacked medieval bridge near fort Lori Berd, Armenia

It was a pretty little spot down there. So, I broke out one of my cliff bars and had my own 4th of July picnic. The scramble up was mostly uneventful, except something either stung my shin or I was jabbed by stickers fairly thoroughly. There are no marks, but it still stings a bit. I began the nearly three mile walk back, stopping to chat with some Armenian farmers, and to take pictures of a village cemetery. I had to cool my heels in Stepanavan for an hour and a half until the next bus. So, I visited the museum to local Communist hero Stepan Shahumain. And yes, that IS how Stepanavan was renamed in his honor. The most interesting part of the museum is they have preserved his house completely and essentially built the museum around it. So, it is a house inside a museum, along with other relics of the city's past. Armenia does not demonize communists the way the West and other parts of the world do. There are monuments in every town to them, as well as post-soviet monuments done in a very Soviet style.

Ruined chapel inside medieval fort, Lori Berd, Armenia

Eventually, it was time to head back to Maghay B&B in Vanadzor - which has been my favorite place I've stayed so far. If you visit Armenia, I highly recommend staying here and visiting the monasteries of Debed Canyon. As for Lori Berd...well, it is a cool,way to spend an hour or two if you're here. I just wouldn't make a special trip for it...

Worldwidemike on the medieval bridge at Lori Berd, Armenia

Debed canyon, Armenia

Well, not really - I wasn't in a truck and today's sightseeing had nothing to do with space. Maybe a bit about eternity, but I'm getting ahead of myself. You know how a song gets associated with a place, once you hear it there? Well, Deep Purple's "Space Truckin'" will forever take me back to the gorgeous Debed Canyon and a misty day in Armenia.

After arriving in Armenia the day before, I changed my sightseeing plans ever so slightly. I still wanted to see the UNESCO World Heritage monasteries tucked away in the steep-walled, forested Debed Canyon. However, in light of the day's forecast for rain and the blisters on my feet from my 11-hour hike back and forth from Tmogvi to Vardzia, Georgia, I decided to hire a car and driver. My wonderful bed & breakfast that I was staying at in Vanadzor, Armenia, offered to take me to four of the monasteries for an all day trip. The cost was less than $40, so with the urging of my feet, I accepted.

Akhtala Monastery, Armenia

So, where does "Space Trucking'" come in? Well, my driver was the husband of Maghay Bed & Breakfast's owner, the music lover Ashot. On the drive into the canyon we listened to a steady diet of 60's to 80's soul, but he cranked out the heavy metal rock on the way back. I'll forever remember both of us jamming to "Space Truckin'" as we wound our way along the damp, twisting road, passing slow-moving trucks and splashing through the puddles that accumulated on the rutted, potholed road.

We began our sightseeing at Akhtala Monastery - an off-the-beaten track choice of mine that surprised the B&B owners. When we arrived, we were the only visitors so far that day. In fact, we had to hunt down the local priest to unlock the church so I could see what I came for. Akhtala Monastery is famous for its frescoes - those Byzantine style paintings on the walls and ceilings of many churches in the East. The priest was a fellow history buff, too. We had a wonderful conversation about artistic styles, the significance of the figures depicted, and even why the colors were so vibrant after almost 1,000 years. The priest spoke excellent English and I think he appreciated someone with my passion for history, not the run-of-the-mill "take a picture of me in front of this" tourist! I enjoyed my visit for a number of reasons. Number one, of course, was how amazing the place was. Number two, my driver did not try to play tour guide or hurry me along. He let me take as much time as I liked and wander the sites at my leisure. And of course, number three was the connection with someone from another culture who was on my wavelength. As I left, he shook my hand, blessed me, and said I would always be welcome.

1,000 year old frescoes in Akhtala Monastery, Armenia

Next up was the stunning medieval masterpiece of Haghpat Monastery. The drizzle set in as we arrived, but it was a light one and actually added to the mood of the abandoned monastery which was once a center of Armenia's church. Wandering the complex of stone buildings was like stepping into another time. You could almost hear monks chanting as you paced, alone, through soaring chapels and examined intricate carvings. I would have to say Haghpat was my favorite, even though I will always have a special place in my memory for Akhtala's welcome. There were numerous buildings to explore, each different than the last. And if you tired of looking at damp, gray stone, you only had to spin around, and enjoy the panorama of a monastery set on a soaring hilltop. You could put yourself in the sandals of the monks, peacefully overlooking the world spread out beneath them. I watched wisps of gray cloud float up the hillsides on all sides. To me, it was J.R.R. Tolkein's Misty Mountains set in the world of Umberto Eco's "The Name of the Rose." Although I have never felt the calling to be a monk, it is places like Haghpat that make you understand the spiritual reward of that life.

Haghpat Monastery, Armenia

From Haghpat, we drove to Sanahin. Compared to Haghpat's sprawling complex of medieval buildings, Sanahin seemed small and cramped. The most noticeable thing about the monastery is the graveyard stretching up the hill slope above it. The elaborate tombstones range from modern to medieval, it being a special honor to be buried in this 1,000-year-old monastery. In fact, as you pace through the buildings, you are often walking on tombstones. Royalty, churchmen, nobles and saints are laid to rest beneath the floor of many of the chapels. Sanahin also is green with encroaching moss and vegetation, where Haghpat seems more stark and gray.

Graveyard crowding close to Sanahin Monastery, Armenia

Our final stop was the village church in Odzun, set atop a towering plateau. As we snaked our way upwards, I looked down and saw the Debed river which looked like a tiny ribbon beneath us. It was a shock to reach the top and see flat fields stretching away for miles. I'd expected some eagle's nest of rock, but instead found countryside that looked for the world like any other village you'd find on the plains of Ohio. This was no ordinary village church, though. It was begun in the 7th century - more than 1,500 years ago! It's stone has a pinkish color, and it has huge soaring arches and vaulted interior. The walls are bare except for an occasional carving and one much more modern fresco. Huge stone sarcophagi (caskets) surround the church grounds outside. Strangely, for the oldest of the four, it had a much more modern and airy feel to it.

7th century village church in Odzun, Armenia

On the drive back to Vanadzor, the drizzle finally opened up into a downpour. I realized as dramatic as the sights were today, they would have been stunning under blue skies and sun. Nevertheless, the fact that the rain held off until my sightseeing was done felt like a blessing. I was reminded of the priest in Akhtala and his gentle blessing at the end of my visit. I was as thankful that the rain had held off as I' had been for his welcome. I know as we age our memories grow misty, but I'll always remember my day of "space truckin'" through Debed Canyon.