A Trip to Armenia

I arrived in Armenia with three fellow travellers as part of a broader itinerary in the Caucasus that also covered Georgia and Azerbaijan. We entered the country by crossing the border with Georgia in a van with driver hired in Tbilisi. After completing the simple customs formalities we continued towards Yerevan along a mountain road with plenty of hairpin bends and, above all, potholes in the asphalt. I was so tired that I fell asleep. Along the way we ran alongside Lake Sevan for a short stretch. Arriving in Yerevan we stopped in front of our hotel, in an absolutely central location. After taking possession of the rooms, in the afternoon I took a stroll around the centre with one of my travel companions.

The main square is a few steps from the hotel, then we walked the pedestrian street as far as the Theatre and the so-called Cascade, a monumental staircase preceded by a garden with statues by Botero. At the top stands the tall column with the Statue of Victory, while on the nearby hill the austere statue of Mother Armenia presides. We contented ourselves with looking at it all from below, then went back to the hotel, where, reunited with the other two friends, we took a taxi to Khor Virap Monastery, located near the border with Turkey, facing Mount Ararat. The mountains are in fact two, Little and Great Ararat, over 5,000 metres high; they have always been the symbol of Armenia but lie entirely in Turkey. According to the Bible, this is where Noah's Ark landed at the end of the universal flood. Unfortunately the low clouds and the gloomy day prevented us from seeing the summit.

The monastery was built by Saint Gregory the Illuminator after he was freed by King Tiridates, who had imprisoned him for thirteen years in a well. The well is still there, and you reach it by descending down a narrow passage with a steep little ladder. The episode dates back to 301 AD and coincides with the king's conversion, which made Armenia the first state in the world to officially embrace Christianity. Even today the Armenian Christian faith is an autonomous religion with its own head, called the Catholicos, and its own rites. This religion is historically important, as the Armenian quarter of Jerusalem, the island of San Lazzaro in the Venice lagoon and San Gregorio Armeno in Naples attest. We returned to Yerevan for dinner in a renowned ethnic restaurant in the centre. The day ended with a stroll along the pedestrian street and a return to the hotel for the night.

The following day, with one of my travel companions, I went to the nearby Marriott Hotel to meet a friend, who drove us in his car to the upper part of the Cascade to enjoy one of the best views over the city, with the mighty Mount Ararat in the background, now free of clouds. After a brief stop at the Hilton we went to the Italian Embassy, where we were received by the Ambassador. After lunch in a restaurant in the centre and a drink in one of the best spots in Yerevan, on a panoramic penthouse, we went to the Barsegh Kanachyan Art School for an event we had been invited to. We watched musical and singing performances by some pupils, then joined the headmistress and the teachers for a buffet. The Embassy representative and an art teacher joined us, and she took us to visit her school, in a poor neighbourhood of the city.

After saying goodbye to our friends in Yerevan we returned to the hotel, where we reunited with the other two travel companions. I wouldn't go to dinner at the restaurant; I preferred to stay at the hotel and then go to bed. The next morning we took a taxi to Garni to visit the Temple built by King Tiridates (with money granted by Nero), which at the time of the Soviet Union was the only archaeological remains in this immense territory. What you see is the result of a restoration that put it back on its feet after an earthquake brought it down in the 17th century. The Temple, like a miniature Parthenon, is surrounded by hills that aren't always green and by a canyon. A short transfer took us to Geghard Monastery, which I liked above all for its setting at the foot of mountains with rocky pinnacles and hollows that the monks exploited to create cave chapels.

The monastery leans against the mountain; it is partly built and partly rock-hewn. The interiors, as in all Armenian churches, are rather dark, lit only by the faint light of the many candles the faithful light or by the sun filtering in through the entrances. The Armenians, mingling with the many tourists, are very devout. In a side chapel carved into the rock a spring considered sacred gushes forth. In a dark room whose light filters through a slit in the dome above, some girls sing divinely in a circle. Near the monastery a little humpbacked bridge crosses a stream and leads into a grove where the faithful have tied coloured ribbons to the branches. A path leads to a cave where it is customary to stack stones one on top of another to form low little columns. The road back to the taxi is full of tourist stalls.

From here we returned to the capital to visit the memorial to the Armenian genocide at the hands of the Ottomans in 1915, in which around a million and a half civilians lost their lives. A moment of reflection before the flame that burns in perpetual memory, the laying of a bunch of flowers, and back to the hotel. In the evening, dinner in a characteristic ethnic restaurant; good Armenian cuisine at modest prices. We then returned to the hotel for the night. The following morning, after breakfast at the hotel, we set off in the van we had booked, heading for Tbilisi in Georgia. During the long journey we ran alongside Lake Sevan. The long road winding through the hills and mountains of the Caucasus is dotted with numerous potholes that the van tries to dodge, slaloming along. We reached the border with Georgia, which we crossed easily.