Akhaltsikhe and the Rabati castle

With my plans for Svaneti definitely svaniti (sorry non-Italian speaker), the choice was between Akhaltsikhe, once an Armenian majority town close to the very interesting city of Vardzia, and the Samegrelo area, noted among other things for its beautiful national park. I opted for the former, also after having discovered that Lucijam had also reached Georgia and was planning to go there. We met in the subway, and proceeded to the Didube station, the same I used to reach Kazbegi last year.

It was like I remembered it. An almost far east feel, with its numerous market stalls selling all kind of goods. I promised myself that this time I would go again in the Station Square underground market, which I only glimpsed on my previous visit.

Once we located the mashrutka for Akhaltsikhe we boarded it and waited for it to fill up. This is how they work, by the way. There is a vague timetable, but they really depart once they're full. A man came up to gather money. He saw we were tourist and started a random litany of prices. First "three", then "six", then "nine". It cleary didn't have a clue on how to tell the correct price, and was even mocked by another passenger, as I overheard the words ar ("not") and inglisurad ("in English"). We gave 10 Lari each, and received 4 back, so we assumed the right price was indeed 6 Lari.

It rained for most of the trip, so I didn't bother taking pics, besides on the bus we managed to meet this chatty French traveller, who made the rainy trip moderately bearable.

Once arrived, we parted with Lucijam, who had plans to reach Batumi for the night, and went to Vardzia immediately (I am not aware if she made it), while me and the chatty French (I don't remember his name, it was similar to Charlie but not exactly Charlie, so I'll call him JeSuisNotCharlie) tried to find a hostel for the night, hoping that in the morning the weather would be better. The address he had pointed to a hotel, not hostel, though. We still asked for the price. 50 Lari for one night. We're talking about roughly 19 Euro for a full room with shower, wi-fi and comfortable beds, so we both said "well, fuck this!" and we moved in. We're not at the Sheraton here, but who cares?

 

 

After resting for a bit and agreeing to meet at 20:00 for dinner, we separately set out to explore the place. Akhaltsikhe (ახალციხე, New Castle) is a town of about 20.000 souls, crossed by the Potskhovi river and, as mentioned before, used to be inhabited mostly by Armenians. Charles Aznavour's father was born here. It has, of course, a tumultuous history. It was captured by the Ottomans in 1576 and by the Russian Empire in 1828.

 

 

Saint Nino

 

The Rabati castle, which overlooks the town, is... weird. It was originally built in the XIII Century and it was recently restored to its original appearance. Now it includes a church, a mosque, a minaret, a synagogue, as well as Jaqelebi Palace, a historic museum, old baths and the surrounding citadel.

 

 

 

As with the Narikala fortress last year and Khor Virap this, I immediately noticed the enormous freedom the visitors have. You can go basically everywhere, climb towers (with internal ladders, of course), go on walkways, explorer corridors and turn corners. No fences, no "forbidden", no "dangerous". Here they must think that dangerous things are pretty obviously so, and if you get hurt, it's your damn bloody fault. I wonder how Americans do here, the notion of "sueing" someone because you fall from somewhere must be source for endless hilarity.

 

 

Yes, of course. Flowers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All in all this seems what it probably is, a large playground for rich people, as the multiple restaurant and wineries in the main courtyard seem to indicate. Some of them have outdoor areas suited for cocktail parties, and it's not difficult to imagine how better this must be with the proper weather.

Once back, we went to dinner at a local restaurant, definitely a not touristic one, where I made a show of myself ordering in Georgian ("Khuti khinkali, erti mtsvadi, puri da erti tchika Saperavi, tu sheidzleba! Ara, kartulad tsota tsota vlaparakob, italieli var da is prangelia"). Both of us got two delicious dishes, bread and the two glasses of wine turned into the whole bottle. We paid around 6,5 Euro each. Just saying.

Before going to bed we enjoyed the sight of Rabati by night. The sky seemed clear enough, so we plunged into sleep ready for Vardzia the morning after.

 

 

Let's have a drink! A visit to the Yerevan Noy brandy factory.

Armenia is famous for its brandy. Allegedly, Churchill was a huge fan, to the point that he received regular shipments by Stalin. History tells of a time when Churchill noticed a slight decrease in the brandy quality. Stalin investigated and discovered that Margar Sedrakyan, the man behind the blend had been exiled by the Communist Party. Stalin, being who he was, ordered to set him free, to reinstate in his position of chief technologist of the factory and to give him back the party ticket.

Everything seemed rather interesting, so me and Mariam decided to visit the factory, which is built where the former Yerevan fortress was. The tour itself was half-interesting half-boring. The latter was undoubtedly helped by the tour guide being one of the hugest scope in culo ("a bit stiff" for anglophones) I've seen in my life. Anyway, the tour included a tasting, so me and Mariam patiently waited, looking at the memorabilia.

When we went into the cellars, things started to be a bit more interesting. The smell was really strong, and I'm pretty sure you can get drunk just by staying there too long. There were huge barrels everywhere, divided by tonnage, age, etc. Some metal poles put against the lid, in order to compensate inner pressure.

We were shown a secret passage, not used anymore, which extended for 9 kilometers beneath Yerevan, it reaches the American embassy and, if I remember well, it was also used to bring grapes to the factory without exposing them to the sun. It is now closed after 1 kilometer.

After the cellar we went to the tasting area. Here the ceremony was... interesting, if a bit bordering obsession. Here is how it works.

1. You pour the brandy in the apposite glass. It is almost spherical and the amount should be just enough to allow you to put the glass sideways and not having it pour out. Once you straighten the glass again, drops will slide toward the center of the glass. 20 seconds for a 20 years brandy and 10 seconds for a 10 years one.
2. You take the glass with your left hand, which is the one closest to the heart. This goes against all traditional views of the left hand, by the way (where's the Devil, now? IN THE BRANDY) and gently shake it, to allow a bit of evaporation. The alcohol that evaporates is called angel's tears. Why not?
3. From 30 cm of distance, moving the other hand in order to push aromas towards you, the smell should be of oak. From 20 cm it should be of chocolate and close to your nose you finally smell the alcohol. By this time I really need to check the time, what if I have something on the fire? What if my plane is leaving?
4. Now you can actually drink it! In Armenia brandy is usually drank with fruit, chocolate or cigars. We had both the first two at the table. I preferred the 10 years brandy, but both were quite stunning - especially as I hadn't had lunch yet!

Mother Armenia & The Amusement Park of Hell

A stroll through Victory Park allowed me to see two wondrous things, yesterday. The statue of Mayr Hayastan (Mother Armenia) and, well, a very peculiar amusement park.

 

Mother Armenia is a 22 mt. high copper statue, standing on a 29 mt. basalt pedestal, built in a shape reminiscent of a basilica. In 1967 it replaced Josif Stalin's statue, which stood there since 1950. Other than overlooking Yerevan, the statue looks in the direction of Mount Ararat, now Turkey, as if to guard the city from invasions. And not only with her big ass sword. Mum has her own array of toys around her...

 

 

In the park there's also a very nice amusement park for kids. Very nice. Cute, yes. This reminded me of a slightly better version of those Soviet playgrounds that can be seen (and never unseen) on the Internet...

 

"Welcome to the park. You are all going to die!"

 

Here's a huge black swan ready to ambush kids.

 

Cloning should be forbidden.

 

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!"

 

"You are under arrest for having unauthorized fun. Please follow me!"

 

Luckily, not all things are scary in this park. There are many cute and funny things.

 

...this cute duck...

...this very... cute...

"NONE OF YOU ARE SAFE!"

Cacasian Walk - part II

Seems like I cannot really stay away from Armenia and Georgia. Maybe it for this reason that I am on a Transaero flight heading to Yerevan, through Moscow, where I am now. Next to me, on the first flight, sat two of the most Russian men I ever seen. I would like to continue with a long series of stereotypes (vodka, bears, annexions), but the seat is narrow and typing is difficult, so I will abstain, I will just mention that my iPad, which I clumsily dropped some weeks ago, has now some sort of seemingly permanent colour display damage, which could prove an issue when editing photos. Yesterday the problem disappeared, to appear again today. Damn. But now I know it's only half-permanent, so I will try to find a solution.