Armenia, Adventures in the North

If someone ever says 'I am full, but wait I have two houses' you may want to consider your options before you say 'okay then'.  However in a backwater mining town in northern Armenia, other accommodation choices were limited, that is to say, nonexistent.  So with a cheery 'okay lets go', we piled into the taxi with an old lady.  This lady turned out to be our very helpful host for the next couple of days.  The mother of the hostel owner and a lady with a convenient spare room, who with tourists desperate for somewhere to stay, had a money making opportunity.  She reminded us of a helpful Aunt.  Providing snacks and tea at every opportunity.  At times we felt she felt sorry for us.  For we had said no to the inclusive meal option.  This was a mistake as apparently there were few opportunities to eat in this town, so every time food was produced in the house we devoured it.  A clear sign to our host that we were 'poor' foreigners.  Ironic really when staying in a soviet block of flats with a tin bath in the stairwell, variable electricity and only hot water at certain times of day.

Going no-where

 We had come to this town of Alaverdi for two reasons.  One to go on the cable car that would take us up the side of the canon to the top of the gorge and to the village of Sarahat.  And two, to complete a walk between Sanahin monastery and Haghpat monastery.  Unfortunately our first plan was scuppered before it even began.  Apparently the cable car was hit by lightening earlier in the year and the town didn't have the money to fix it.  Like a lot of things in this town, it seemed like its days were numbered.  Past its hay-day and beyond care.  The people we talked to seemed to long for the past Soviet era, when at least people had jobs and though hard they know what the future held.

Our second plan was much more successful.  In the absence of a working cable car, a ramshackle bus was taken up the steep gorge to the top, during which time a lovely old lady dispensed fruit to us, maybe she too thought we were starving.  Sanahin monastery turned out to be a gem of moss covered buildings built during the medieval period and surviving soviet occupation.  We pretty much had the place to ourselves so could walk around and explore the dark corners, and intricate carvings.  

Sanahin Monastery

Before setting out on our 7 km walk to the next monastery there was just time to check out the Mikoyan museum.  The home of the designer of the MiG, the USSR's first fighter jet in world war two.  It was clear from the attentive guide insisting we looked in detail at every photo that this was a museum with few visitors.  So appreciative noises and photos with the MiG later, we set out on our walk. 

MiG also going no-where

We had no map, just a vague description of the route.  All was going well until we ended in a field with what appeared to be a steep drop into the gorge below.  We could see the monastery but had no idea how to traverse the gorge.  Luckily help was at hand in the guise of an Armenian family celebrating a birthday.  They were picnicking on the edge, and soon invited us to join them.  Only the young girl spoke a bit of English but her father and uncle were keen that we ate and more importantly drank before directions could be given.  An hour later and varying snacks and quite a lot of vodka consumed for mid-afternoon we were on our way again. 

The path down the gorge was steep, the hill the other side a killer, and the temperature approaching uncomfortably hot.  But victory was ours.  We had made it.  The monastery itself was 'nice', yep we had seen many by then, and it had reached the 'nice' point.  A taxi back into town completed our journey.  And on this our last night in Armenia we celebrated with the only thing we could get in this town, a soft drink in the cafe by the empty swimming pool.  There we sat and considered the hospitality of the friendly people of this town, and how we were no longer made for afternoon drinking.  Then we hurried 'home' before aunt sent out a search party.