The trip from Yerevan to Vanadzor was nothing particular. The weather wasn't the best, the seat was extremely uncomfortable (it was above the rear wheel) and the woman sitting next to me belonged to the Vocator incessans species, rather common on trains and planes. We arrived in Vanadzor after a couple of hours and half, break included.
Vanadzor is Armenia's third biggest city and it lacks Yerevan's charm, but I found it not a ugly as Internet pictures seemed to hint. Maybe the picturesque backdrop is better when experienced live.
After a quick break I found a taxi who didn't try to scam me (or maybe he did, but 7,000 Dram sounded slightly better than the 15,000 the first one, waiting for tourists at the bus stop, demanded). So, after agreeing on the price, we departed.
Sanahin and Haghpat are two monasteries relatively close to each other, in the vicinity of the town of Alaverdi. Sanahin, the first, is located close to a mountainous wall in a shady area, surrounded by tall trees, and was found in the 10th Century. The name, in Armenian (Սանահին վանք), literally means "This one is older than that one" as an everlasting warning that guys of every calling, doesn't matter if bored teenagers of ancient monks, can't help measuring each other things.
Haghpat or Haghpatavank (Հաղպատավանք), on the other hand, means "My prayers are louder than-" OK, no, it's bullshit. Anyway, also built in the 10th Century, but probably a couple of months after Sanahin, it lies atop a verdant and flowery hill, offering a wondrous view, with the red of the poppies blending with the yellow of... hey, do I look like a fucking flower expert? The red of poppies blends with the yellow and purple of the others.
After the two visits I headed back to the taxi driver, who once again made sure my day was that much more exciting by driving like Armenian taxi drivers do. This, along with the gruvyer-like road conditions, the lack of lighting in galleries and the presence of other drivers doing the same, made me fear for my life in several occasions.
Once in Vanadzor, unexpectedly alive, I went to meet my host, Corina, a Romanian expat working in Vanadzor as a civil engineer along with her cats (actually it's just once cat, Pishkot, but believe me, we can safely say cats). Corina just came back from work and she was tired, so she proposed to go and have dinner in a good fish restaurant in Gyumri (Armenia's second biggest city, some 55 Kms west of Vanadzor), on the condition that I would drive her car. As I didn't have my driving license with me, I was uncertain, but we reached a deal: she would drive on the way out and I would drive on the way back, when reptiles, some birds and the Police are less active. We did. What was I thinking?
The trip to Gyumri turned out really pleasant, as the road between the provinces of Lori and Shirak is beautiful (hole aside). The sunset was beautiful behind the clouds, and the rolling hills only added to the scene. What really shined was the conversation, though, as Corina is smart, cultured and witty. I really enjoyed my time with her as we talked of just about anything, from our Caucasian experiences to expensive cheese, from arachnid taxonomy to religion. I was extremely lucky to have her as a host.
The return trip was also pleasant and remarkably policeless. That night Pishkot slept with me, not bloodily clawing my heart out as Corina foreseen, but stirring and purring. I can add CatSurfing to my local experiences and skills.
The morning after Corina kindly drove me to the Black Church, which is not, as its name implies, a place for black masses, but an old Russian church called Holy Mother of God (and also called "Gharakilisa" from the old name of Vanadzor under Russian rule). It gently lies on a flowery hill overlooking the railway, with a graveyard on the side.
Goodbye Vanadzor, goodbye Armenia, it's time to leave for Georgia.
No comments:
Post a Comment