The day dawned bright and sunny. Our sojourn in Yerevan was over and we had quite a late start to the day, leaving at 10.00 am. The plan is to head back towards the Georgian border and camp over night. We have to go to Georgia to get into Turkey as the Armenian/Turkish border is closed due to the strained relations between the two countries.

As we left the modern city centre, old houses (looking more like shacks) appeared on the steep banks on the side of the road. These were in marked contrast to the designer mansions on top of the banks looking back towards the city. Soon both are left behind and we are in the countryside again.

At one point we are looking over into the mist where we should be seeing the long disputed Mount Ararat. The darned thing has been swathed in mist since we arrived. We can only hope that we get a better view from the Turkish side later in the month. At the moment this seems somewhat disloyal to the people who have been so nice to us in Armenia and for whom the ownership of Mount Ararat is such a big issue.

Gold trees line the highway. These give way to fields and mountains and we look down on a town sloping away from the road. There is little traffic. We pass a man guarding his cow as it grazes by the roadside in a gap in the sharply painted blue and white safety barrier. I think this is the first safety barrier I have seen since we left the M25. It proves to be very short lived!

Now and again a person sits in isolation by the side of the road with a small pile of apples. What chance of anyone stopping I wonder…..

Before long we stopped at the base of a hill by a lake. Perched on the top of the steep incline is the dome of a church. After rather breathlessly climbing up to the top (the air is a bit thin – we are back at 6,000 feet above sea level) we arrive at the Sevanavank Monastery. It is built on a site which once boasted a pagan temple. These monks certainly know how to pick their locations don’t they? Looking down over the beautiful blue lake, now fringed with trees in their autumnal colours, it was quite stunning. There were actually two churches dating back to the 9th century. One, St Katapet, devoted to John the Baptist and the other, St Astvatsatsin dedicated to the Holy Mother of God, apparently. As always the Russians had ‘tidied’ the old monastery ruins in between the two churches and had ‘topped them off’ with some nice white concrete, to encourage tourists (?!?). They had also created something of a resort around the bottom of the hill. Now the Armenian President has a summer residence there as it is really just a step from Yerevan.

What about the monks you might well ask. They have very sensibly built themselves a new monastery site around the back of the hill. Not so good on views, but well out of the way of the tourists. I have a vision of them creeping out after – say – 7.00 when all the trippers have gone to enjoy the tranquility of the place. It was a lovely spot.

Having clambered back down the hill, we set off again. Our journey took rather an interesting turn when we went through a long tunnel where a woman’s voice could be heard making a rather mournful announcement throughout our time in it. Even if we spoke the language, I would defy anyone to know what she was saying. It was a but creepy….. Happily after this we were out into to a deeply sided wooded valley. The road twisted and turned along the bottom of it. The trees are all colours – from green to gold and every shade through to rust.

Our final visit of the day was yet another monastery – the Haghpat Monastery. It sits on what the guidebook describes as the ‘lip’ of the Deped Canyon. The place did nothing for Keith – he later described it as ‘thoroughly underwhelming’ which I found a bit disappointing – but I think it will remain one of the highlights of my trip. I found it had an amazing atmosphere, not least because one of the two churches had three singers practising plain chant. The acoustics were unbelievable. If only you could picture sound! Their voices rang out over as I wandered around the area in the late afternoon sunshine. There has been a church on the site since the 4th century although the current buildings are thought to be 9th century. One of the ancient inscriptions on the wall describes one of the churches as a ‘cathedral site’.

I just found the whole area had a wonderful ‘aura’ and I did not want to leave…..

While we visited the Monastery, Simon and Zaza were negotiating with the local farmer to use his field for our bushcamp. Permission granted, we parked about three hundred metres down the road from the churches in a field with mountains on two sides and the valley and church hill on the two others respectively.

I was on the cooking duty and we soon knocked together a Thai curry. Keith made a fire – but this was all done before 8.00 and it was dark. Bed was really the only option. At least it was not raining and the wind that had been very evident when we arrived on the hill, had completely disappeared. Great.

We opted for a tour of Yerevan’s famous brandy. Our 9.30 tour time was not exactly perfect, but you know us, dedicated to the last……. After a decent breakfast to line the stomach we took off for the brandy factory.

Our tour guide was another painfully thin but pretty, false eyelashed lassy with amazingly high heeled shoes and very tight trousers. A bit difficult for the chaps to concentrate on the issue at hand really, but they did their best!

Anyway, back to the brandy. We visited the Noy (Armenian for Noah) brandy factory which is associated with the famous(?) Ararat brandy originally established in1877, apparently Churchill’s brandy of choice. He is said to have got a brandy maker who Stalin had dispatched to Siberia for political activism, brought back because he noticed a change in the taste of the brandy and as a nationalised industry it could not afford to lose such a good customer. It is said that Churchill was sent over 300 bottles a year ! The current Noy factory supplies brandy to the Kremlin.

The factory is built on the site of an old fortress. The site suffered from both earthquakes and Russians. Following the collapse of the Soviet regime, the factory fell into disrepair. In 2003 it was taken over by a Russian oligarch who looked a real bruiser in the photographs – in each photograph he had on a red tie unknotted and his shirt undone! Not quite the ticket! Nevertheless he has made a good job of resurrecting the brandy factory.
We had a great tour and saw the vast vats of the stuff in the cellars. One of the old cellar walls is dated 1600 and from there tunnels duck out by prisoners of the fort go out. One now ends up at the American Embassy which was not, of course, there when they broke the surface and the other in the city square, now old barrels line the tunnels. Some of the larger barrels hold 15,000 litres of brandy.

The inevitable tasting, despite the hour, included a 90 year old wine found when the factory was resurrected. It was something like Madeira. The 20 year old brandy was very good. However, all good things have to come to an end and following our lesson on how to drink and age brandy, our young guide teetered back to us to tell us that our hour was up and before long we were back out on the pavement, clutching our 20 year old brandy purchase.

We decided to adjourn to the hotel for some r and r. We lunched on leftovers from the previous night’s Armenian feast and then went our separate ways, Keith to an afternoon to himself and I set off to town with Helen.

First we went to do some people watching while having a drink at the Marriott pavement cafe in Republic Square. This was very entertaining as
we watched the fashions go by, was fascinated by the members of a delegation disappear into their black limousines with all their designer packages and had a preview of Yerevan’s birthday celebrations at the weekend

A walking tour of Yerevan had been booked for us and we set off with a beautiful young Armenian woman whose name I will not even start to pronounce. She gave us a most informative tour of the city, together with a useful history of Armenia’s struggles explained patriotically but with a wry humour, something we have rarely experienced from our guides to date. Bless her. She said that in her view Yerevan was the most beautiful city in the world. Keith and I could not help but think of Florence and Venice and how lucky we are to have seen these wonders….

There is evidence of a settlement in the Yerevan area 2,750 years ago, but the current city is mainly modern having suffered the ravages of first the Persians and more recently the Russians in addition to occasional earthquakes. Although previously Islamic, it now has only one mosque that was not destroyed because of a last minute intervention of one brave soul when the Russians were attempting to wipe out all religions.

Half of Armenia became part of Persia, modern day Iran, and Mount Ararat (of Noah’s Ark fame) used to be in Armenia and can be seen from Yerevan but is now part of Turkey, much to the Armenians frustration. A lot of the buildings, although of Russian origin, look different because they are built in the local rose coloured stone, rather than the usual ugly Russian grey concrete.

Armenian Christianity, the state religion, sounds pretty strict with a requirement for the whole congregation to stand throughout a two and a half hour service that is carried our in ancient Armenian, which few but the old can understand. By all accounts there is little interaction with the congregation. It sounds a long way from the happy, ‘clappy’, hand shaking trends of the Church of England. Despite all this, the numbers of young people taking up religion is increasing, although our young informant said she was not sure whether this was ‘out of habit or belief’. Nothing if not honest.

Yerevan is also the home of Ararat Brandy that was apparently Sir Winston Churchill’s brandy of choice. Apparently they shipped it over to him in vast quantities. He is said to have noticed when its taste changed at one stage, due to Stalin sending the brandy maker to Siberia for his political activities. Stalin was pressed to authorise the man’s release in order that the Ararat Brandy, factory which was nationalised, could retain Churchill’s custom. The brandy factory is built on the site of an old fort.

The majority of Armenians live outside of Armenia in the United States, Russia and France. Some live in England. Most of the wealth of Yerevan comes either from people living abroad sending money back or is held by the few oligarchs who live in the city.

There is a huge statue called ‘Mother of Armenia’ high up on the hill, looking down on the City. She is on the site where Stalin’s statue used to stand.

The central area of the city around the Republic Square is dedicated to cafe street life. Controversially the old centre has been demolished except for one road where the people are refusing to move to make way for a new, marble pavemented, pedestrian walkway, already lined with international designer shops, although they are still laying the pavements. Walking down through this area proved quite hazardous as we tried to avoid men drilling the pavement tiles and laying cement.

The huge opera house dominates the end of this street. This huge building, ‘Stalinesque’ Russian dark gray, dourly peers down on the glass covered shop fronts of Armani and Burberry, seeming to exude an utter condemnation of the excesses brought about by a hedonistic and frivolous age.

The final place on the tour was what I can only describe as the Yerevan, much larger and not yet finished, equivalent of the Spanish steps in Rome. Called ‘the Cascade’ it is a central marble fountain that goes right up to the top of a not insignificant hill with steps on either side. There are terraces at various levels where pieces of art – the collection of an extremely wealthy benefactor – are displayed.

The tour finished, we set off to a well deserved lunch and then a bit of a spend as I purchased not one, but two sweaters. The ease with which one can get back into the saddle of spending money does not cease to amaze me!

Keith and I then went back to look more thoroughly at the art gallery around and within the Cascade and then walked back to our hotel on the outskirts of the city – no mean feat as it took about an hour, mainly uphill!

Our supper was a group meal of typical Armenian food. It was served Russian style – always a danger as you consume vast quantities of the plates laid out and then an equally vast number of additional dishes arrive! So it was on this occasion, but we had a jolly meal washed down by Armenian wine served in stone jugs.

Then home to bed. Very full, but happy and finding it difficult to believe there is only just over two weeks of trucking left.

We were breakfasting at 7.00 so it was still dark as we packed up the Ritz. It had stopped raining but was still damp and I was on breakfast duty. Despite all this, we were on parade on time, but once again sleeping bags had touched the edge of the tent in the night so could not be put away and my trousers were distinctly wet in places when I put them on. Not ideal….

We left the bushcamp at 8.00 and were at the Armenian border by 9.00. Our crossing was particularly easy as UK citizens do not need visas for Armenia – all other nationalities represented in our group had to buy visas at the border while we trotted through and chatted to the border control police. They were great fun. We felt sorry for the others filling out forms in the rain, but I was a bit concerned about what the British had done to be visa free. This trip has made us much more politically aware of the issues of these countries and the sensitivities between them. The border is closed between Armenia and both Turkey and Azerbaijan. We were warned not to mention some of the countries we had come from or were going to for fear of reprisals……

The young border police said we would like Armenia better than anywhere else we were going. We mentioned the rain that was at this time falling fast – their view ‘you are from England – the English like the rain!!’ I am not sure.

The countryside carried on where Georgia left off – not surprisingly as they were both part of the moving borders game. The windows on the truck became steamy for the first time and the floor is covered in mud, but it is no longer my problem. I have moved from cleaning duties to security and waste – a rather amusing turn of events given that most things are pretty insecure when in my possession and wasteful is my middle name. Hey ho!

The first town we passed through had the usual Russian look of crumbling concrete and greyness, but the scenery started to get hilly again and through our steamy windows the autumn colours of trees became evident again. We passed through wooded valleys and then the concrete and washing festooned tenements of towns with lots of rusting carcasses of cars, the all wheels gone. These are rural settlements where money is scarce and employment hard to come by. The natural gas pipes are still with us.

Mountains came into view with towns and villages nestling in their foothills. The sun came out and we had a camp lunch by a pine plantation. Some German travellers stopped to chat and said that they had decided not to venture further east because it was getting too cold and that they were going to turn back.

We stopped at an Armenian memorial site – the letters of the Armenian language picked out in rust coloured stone on the hillside with a large cross made of thousands of small crosses standing proud on the skyline. Armenians are staunchly Christian. Shortly afterwards we drove into the city of Yerevan the proud capital of Armenia. My first impression was the number of florist shops we passed – apparently Armenian women are constantly given flowers by their men – a trait I hope Keith picks up.

Tree lined wide boulevards, huge Russian buildings, parked stretched limousines (the first sighted since we left England), hundreds of taxis and fashionably dressed young people all indicated a buoyant social elite in the city. We are staying for three nights. Time to get clean and maybe purchase a warm sweater as it is cooler than anticipated.

Doing our homework, we had identified a Lebanese restaurant and we set out to have supper there. Despite instructions from the hotel staff, our taxi driver had difficulty finding the place and at one stage got out to search for the address on foot! The people here are really lovely. Eventually the restaurant was found and six of us had a terrific Lebanese meal.