After the visit to the beautiful Tatev Monastery it was time to find the Bed & Breakfast I booked for the night. John & Lena, a name that is an implicit promise of English. In fact, I talked a bit via Facebook weeks ago, and they answered in good English.
OK, let's start. I don't seem to see any sign...
Well, I could ask some local.
Hello, friend! Do you know John and Lena?
In the end I found it. It involved strolling between graves of the local graveyard and asking three men intent on meddling with a grave. They pointed me to a house, where I was greeted by an English-speaking woman, who asked if I was Giorgio.
The first impression was excellent. The outer area, being equal part Into the Wild (completed with dilapidated old bus), Deliverance and The Wicker Man, didn't really tickle my optimism. But the inside seemed clean and brand new. The woman, who turned out to be Lena's mother Tamara (Lena and John actually live in the US), changed my bed sheets on the spots with clean ones, asked when I wanted to have dinner, and showed me the bathroom... Which you just have to see it to believe it.
So, I was actually read for an evening of relax, blogging and planning, when reality hit hard. At my request of the wifi, Tamara said that they don't actually have it, but they have a laptop. Nevermind... I decide to have a shower in the bathroom Tardis. Turns out that it's equipped with a light and a damn RADIO. A shower with a radio in Tatev. Wow! I was still a bit puzzled, because I couldn't help noticing that the bathroom was very cold. In fact I could actually see my own breath. But that shower looked so promising. Nothing beats a hot shower when it's cold outside (and, err... inside). Before undressing, however, I checked the handles: that kind of shower is a double-edged blade. It has faucets on the walls also, and since all showers start out cold, the wrong setting could mean being stabbed by horizontal jets of freezing water. I know well, my parents had such a water trap in their former home (Hi Mom, hi Dad!). Anyway, I fumbled with the controls and...
...a few tiny rivulets of water came out. Really, the pressure was so low that the Tatev Monastery monks' tears during Seljuks and Timur raids probably fell with more intensity. The huge showerhead above, as wide as a damn frying pan, didn't actually pump out water, as much as let it fall by sheer gravity. The fact that the water was pleasantly hot added insult to injury. This was like driving a Ferrari with the engine of a Cinquecento. This said, I somewhat managed to pull out some sort of "shower", only to be greeted by the cold afterwards. Yes, new surprise: no heating in the rooms as well.
Embittered, I went downstairs to eat. Tamara started bringing me a dish of... Some, weird looking vegetable cuts. They did not look very nice, but turned out to be very tasty. I somewhat feared that was all, but then she started bringing bread, then some Goris cheese, then a plate full of little khinkali, the a good vegetable and chicken soup, then some delicious roasted potatoes... I didn't have lunch, so I was rather happy of that motherly overfeeding attempt, but I couldn't finish everything. So, at my pleas, Tamara smiled and asked if I wanted a tea. I said yes, maybe later. 3 minute "later", I had my tea. Complete with chocolate, cookies, jam, more bread and a few candies that I wouldn't be surprised to see used as construction material.
After dinner, I stayed down to write the blog, as the dining room was marginally warmer (maybe one degree?), thanks to the electric heater with just one of the three resistances actually working. I'm still considering whether to write a review if this place or not. This is rural Armenia, tourists are a precious resource and people here do what they can to make ends meet. But the rooms without heating are frankly unbelievable. The hostel in Kazbegi was far worse in terms of presentation and general setting, with no dinner and an outside bathroom, but it had room heating and the guy even brought in an extra radiator unrequested, to make the room warmer. Plus, the hi-tech shower is kinda biting more than one can chew. These things aren't cheap, and a smaller, less flashy one with a better pumping system would have been ten times better. It's all about expectations, after all. If I see a modest solution, I'll have modest expectations. If I see a rich one, I'll expect it to deliver.
The night, thanks to the very thick and warm covers, probably made with threads from Stalin's moustache, was largely OK. I woke up around 08:00, dropped my jaws when I saw the outside completely covered in snow, had another rich breakfast and then went to wait for the bus to Goris.
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