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"You can't always get what you want..."

Travel is a road, and all roads have bumps

sunny 90 °F

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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.

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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 potentialchoices 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.

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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.

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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!

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Posted by world_wide_mike 11:43 Archived in Armenia Tagged temple monastery garni geghard armenian_genocide Comments (1)

Mystery Holiday in Armenia

On the "wings" of a tour...

sunny 79 °F

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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.

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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!

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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.

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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.

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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.

Posted by world_wide_mike 11:41 Archived in Armenia Tagged monastery stonehenge armenia tatev noravank zorats karer Comments (0)

To Be A Country, Or Not To Be

All about Karabakh, hostels and its tourist sights

sunny 82 °F

How small should a country be and still be an independent nation? The Vatican City is technically its own sovereign state and the smallest country in the world. San Marino (inside Italy) and Andorra (between France and Spain) are relics of europe's medieval past, when dukes, bishops and other nobles ruled their own little realms. Since the middle ages, though, the trend has been towards larger nations composed of people with a common culture or shared identity.

However, this trend has reversed in the last few decades. Bigger countries are splitting apart because ethnic groups within them feel they deserve their own state. Historians are calling this "balkinization," because the best example was the split of Yugoslavia on the Balkan peninsula. Once it's strong dictator Tito died, the police state which kept all the different ethnic groups in line crumbled. So, we now have a Serbia, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, and Macedonia. The Kosovo region of Serbia is next in line to become its own tiny state.

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Tank monument to the Karabakh War

When the Soviet Union began to unravel, different ethnic groups began to demand borders be redrawn. They wanted to piece together areas where they were the ethnic majority and create their own state. Which is why the country I am in right now is one that no one else recognizes. To be honest, I came here only partially to see the sights. I also wanted to feel the vibe in a country that no one else believes should be independent. Where I am is called Nagorno-Karabakh, or just Karabakh for short. The region was mostly ethnic Armenians whose land wound up inside Azerbaijan when the Soviet Union collapsed. Their declaration of independence from Azerbaijan brought Russian and Azeri troops to put down their revolt. The Armenians took to the hills and fought back with hit and run raids. Karabakh is essentially one rumpled, green mountain range, so that made it difficult for their enemies to hunt them down. Soldiers from Armenia eventually helped their brethren, and the two chased the Azerbaijani army out. Ethnic Azeris fled, too, fearing reprisal by the victors.

A cease fire was signed 20 years ago, but to this day, no one recognizes Karabakh as independent. Armenia is leery of annexing it, for fear of provoking another war. Karabakh's flag shows what they would like to see happen. It is the Armenian flag with a small triangular chunk separated by a boxy line. The two parts would fit perfectly if the boxy line was erased and the two parts joined. Clever psychological ploy, eh?

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I arrived on a seven hour marshrutka ride from Yerevan. The first 3 1/2 hours retraced the route we took for our Tatev tour, yesterday. It was once we entered Karabakh, though, that the scenery went from being nice to awe inspiring. Toss a green blanket over an irregular pile of rocks, then shrink wrap it around them, and you have an idea of the topography. Decorate the blanket with thick forests, and toss on top a spaghetti strand of asphalt that switchbacks its way across the slopes in a way that curves insanely enough to make even a veteran race car driver dizzy. Our driver, like all Georgians or Armenians it seems, attacked the curves with a passion, passed up anyone who wasn't moving at appropriate breakneck speeds and had even the Armenian passengers yelling at him for his driving. I kept my eyes glued on the scenery, a tactic that has worked well to cut down on the stress this trip.

Once in the capital, Stepanakert, I had to take a bus to the hilltop town of Shoushi where I'd arranged a bed & breakfast. The host is a Frenchman who married an Armenian wife, and has become an enthusiastic supporter and organizer of tourism in Karabakh. After the unsatisfactory lodgings in Tblisi and the hostel in Yerevan, I admit I was a bit worried what his place would look like. Well, picture a "fixer upper" apartment, with walls, plumbing and electricity all in various states of repair. Picture the apartment inhabited by the opposite of a "neat freak." Quite simply, it was worse than either Old Town Hostel in Tblisi or Penthouse Hostel in Yerevan.

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Stepanakert, capital of Karabakh

I guess it is time to give you my take on hostel or budget traveler lodgings. The young, twenty-something backpackers seem to seek out places run by friendly, helpful people who exude a certain vibe - a "coolness." They become fiercely loyal to these new friends and excuse any shortcomings of the facilities, often staying there for weeks on end. I've been exchanging pleasant emails with the owner of Penthouse Hostel, who was worried when I left after just one night. She admitted her place is often crammed with people happy to spread their sleeping bags on the floor just to be able to stay there. Young backpackers like this aren't concerned (like I was) with sheets that don't cover the mattresses, long waits for the bathroom or shower, and a lack of things like chairs, trash cans or night stands. They want to be where the cool travelers are.

I also like friendly, helpful hosts who can assist you in seeing their country. However, friendly hosts do not excuse inconvenient bathrooms, dirty floors, unacceptable beds, and a lack of simple things like a place to hang your clothes or a chair or desk to sit in. Maybe its because I'm 49, but I'll sacrifice the "cool" for comfort and cleanliness any day. So, to cut my rant shorter, I switched rooms once again. For $5 more, I got all of the things that my "B&B" lacked. Armen, who ran the B&B, still helped me set up a tour with a taxi for the next morning. He gave me suggestions on what to do, and did not seem at all put out by my decision. During the tour itself, he rang up the driver on his cell phone to make sure everything was going okay.

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D'oh! There it is - Tigranakert!

My first stop was the ruins of Tigranakert - the capital of the Ancient Armenian kingdom during the Roman period. As we pulled up, I was jazzed to see an archeological dig in process. The archeologist stopped what she was doing and came over to talk. She was excited that I knew the story of ancient Armenia and that I was a history teacher. She explained what they were working on right there was a 5th century A.D. Christian basilica, or church. She told me how to get to Tigranakert, which was apparently on the other side of a steep rocky hill she pointed out. I had worn my tennis shoes, not thinking hiking was in store, but gamely set off by myself uphill.

The first thing I noticed was it was beastly hot with the sun beating down on a shadeless hill. Like all paths I seem fated to follow, it faded in and out. She had been vague about how long it should take me. I kept thinking I was just about to crest the hill, only to see it keep going up. Finally, after 45 minutes, I knew something was wrong. The top of the hill was still not in sight. And I remembered her saying something about the path going to the right. The one I was following kept going up and up. I was completely soaked in sweat. I didn't want to give up, but decided to turn around. And that is when I saw it! I had hiked right past it and didn't recognize the stones as belonging the the city ruins. But up here, way above it, I could see its outline clearly. I plodded downhill snapping photos along the way. I was stunned that I could possibly have walked right past it. Tunnel vision may help you concentrate on an ill-defined trail, but it sure can make you miss things!

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I finally arrived at the bottom of the hill and took pictures of the 17th century castle-like fort. The Tigranakert museum was inside and I quickly paced through it. My clothes hung wet on my body and I felt drained. Strangely, I ran into our guide from the Tatev tour the other day. She was leading two tourists through the museum. They had no interest in tackling the hill to see the ruins - my appearance probably reinforced their decision!

The other main stop of the day was the monastery at Gandzasar. It was about a 40-minute drive there. The breeze flowing in through the window, along with downing my water bottle, began to revive me. The rolling farmland we'd been driving through grew steeper and more wooded. It looked like monastery territory. Part of being a monk is withdrawing from the daily life of the world. So, the more remote and inaccessible the spot, the better to contemplate God. Armenia's monks chose gorgeous sites - usually high atop hills - for their monasteries.

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Like at Sanahin in the Debed Canyon, graveyards crowded around the monastery walls. It is as if they sought out ground made holy by the monks to improve their chances of getting to Heaven. The main church was intricately carved on the outside. Figures of angels, lions, crosses and more marched all around the circular central tower. There were only a handful of other visitors, proving to me that Karabakh is off the beaten path. This monastery is the country's number one sight. What I had originally thought was a tour group of students turned out to be actual students at the school attached to the monastery. This gave it a breath of life, I thought, and is a great idea. Why not have students learn at the site of one of their more important centers of learning and culture?

The ride back to Stepanakert was uneventful. The driver dropped me off at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs so I could get my visa for the country. It had been closed when I arrived on Sunday. After that, I had lunch, found the hotel where I'd be staying when I moved down from Shoushi tomorrow, and generally walked around enough to re-aggravate the blister on my right heel. Tomorrow, I promised myself, would be a day of rest. There were only the medieval walls of Shoushi and the Karabakh War museum that I wanted to see. At about the halfway point of my trip, I felt I deserved a restful day!

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Posted by world_wide_mike 10:54 Tagged monastery karabakh tigranakert gandzasar stepanakert Comments (2)

Land of Monks and Winemakers

Not all smooth sailing in Telavi

sunny 90 °F

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The first day in Telavi - Georgia's "wine country" - had not exactly gone smooth. Our hotel did not have our reservation. All the rooms were taken by a Bollywood production that is filming here for a month. Luckily, the desk manager found us a relatively comparable room in a brand new hotel. The main sight we wanted to see today, Batonistsikhe Castle, was closed for renovation. In fact, the whole town is undergoing some serious renovation. All the main streets are torn up, and construction vehicles rumble past all day, blanketing you with dust and diesel smoke. Nevertheless, we poked around town and saw a few things of interest.

The next morning, though, was the heart of our Telavi side trip. We hired a cab (arranged by the same helpful desk manager) to visit six of the region's top sights - monasteries, nunneries, churches and castles. Our driver showed up promptly and we were underway on a warm, sunny day. Our first stop was at a pair of sights, Old and New Shaumta. Old Shaumta is a trio of churches, the oldest from the 400s A.D. All three were of cream colored stone, and relatively small. They were tucked away in a secluded forest and were part of a monastery at one point. Other than one other carload of tourists, we were the only visitors. That same carload was on the same itinerary, and we would bump into them at every stop along the way.

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Down the road was the nunnery, New Shaumta. It was kind of cool, I had to ring this surprisingly loud bell to get one of the nuns to let us through the gate. As we entered the 16th century chapel I heard my two least favorite words when I'm traveling, "No photographs." the reason was the gorgeous frescos covering every foot of the walls and ceiling. The deep blue color and the figures were weathered, but easy to make out. I recognized Gregory the Illuminator, the saint who brought Christianity to the area. Other than the chapel, pretty much the entire place is off limits to visitors. Part of it, I'm sure, is for the privacy of the nuns. Another part was the - you guessed it - reconstruction going on at the site.

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From there, we made our way to my favorite monastery of the day: Ikalto. It was founded in the 500s A.D. by Syrian monks who traveled to Georgia. Tradition has it that they are buried in the main church. The monastery functioned as a university for centuries in Georgia. The ruins of the Academy area dark gray stone, which contrasts with the apricot colored church walls. A wine press and huge, clay amphorae used to store wine are lined up not far from the church. Georgia is known for its wines, and this area has been the heart its wine production since the beginning. All around the monastery complex are one of my favorite trees - tall, thin cypress furs. I love how they look and give any place a classical, Mediterranean feel.

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Our fourth stop was probably the most stunning building I'd seen in Georgia: Alaverdi Cathedral. It is surrounded by medieval stone walls and squat towers. The inside is massive, with huge, soaring ceilings. Traces of frescoes cover nearly the entire inside, some darker and easier to see, others a faint whisper of color on the whitish-gray stone.
This was the type of cathedral that makes your next sore, as you wander around staring upwards at the arches, domes, and decorated stonework. Some of the frescos showed influence from Islamic art, being graceful, geometric patterns in contrasting colors. I overheard a guide pointing Persian style arches to another group. Of course, one bad thing about Alaverdi Cathedral is its "no photography" rule once inside the walls. Rebel that I can be, I did sneak in a picture or two - but not inside. A monk and older lady kept a vigilant eye on us as we wandered around.

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Gremi Castle was on our next and probably most fun stop. You were free to wander around the red brick castle to your heart's content. We climbed towers, explored subterranean passages, admired the view of the countryside, and checked out the interior museum. The castle has one lofty tower and a tall church steeple to give it a two pronged silhouette. As you gazed out over the farmlands and forest surrounding the castle, you could see medieval remnants of churches and watchtowers poking up out of the trees on all sides. All that was missing were trumpet blasts and a column of armored knights clip-clopping into the courtyard.

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We finished off the day with Nekresi Monastery, perched high atop a forest ridge on the edge of the hills surrounding the Telavi valley. You can see it from the distance as a stab of orange on the rolling green hills. It was the only hilltop monastery of the day, so of course, we had to milk that for what it's worth! Our driver dropped us off at the bottom of the hill and pointed out the gate to go through for our climb to the top. It was no dirt pathway, though, but instead a smooth, cobbled stone driveway. We wondered who the lucky ones were that got to drive up. Although it was just under a mile to the monastery, it was a steep ascent, the switchbacks often at staircase height. After we'd gone a ways, a vanload of people chugged by us. The same van passed us going downhill a short time later. Drenched with sweat, we continued to climb, searching out every shady patch of road no matter how small. When the van passed us going uphill, again, we knew we'd missed something. Yes, there were van rides to the top! No one told us, and we didn't see any signs of them when we began our ascent of Everest.

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Eventually, we arrived at the blessed spot...doubly so for us! The collection of stone buildings are mainly from the 800-900s A.D. It was very peaceful there, with gentle breezes sighing through the trees. Far below, farmlands were laid out in patterns of yellow, light and darker green. We explored the buildings, some of which are used for religious art galleries, nowadays. It was a nice way to wrap up the day's sightseeing. The combination of rich, decorated stonework, dark chapels smelling of candle smoke, and a gorgeous panorama of the Telavi valley, seemed to sum up the day. That, and missing the van ride up held true with out not exactly smooth visit to Georgia's wine and monastery country!

Posted by world_wide_mike 11:49 Archived in Georgia Tagged church country castle wine monastery georgia telavi gremi shaumta ikalto alaverdi nekresi Comments (0)

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