Tip Top Turkiye

Leaving Georgia after photographing an old railway carriage repurposed as a bridge we headed south on twenty miles of badly eroded road with even the trucks taking it slowly as we crossed at the Kartsakhi border point. We realised we could pass most of the trucks that were queuing and before long were stamped out of Georgia and in to Turkey from where the road improved instantly. South of Cildir we stopped by the lake for lunch and decided it was too early to stop for the night so after a good run in to Kars we parked up near a couple of overlander trucks alongside the cheese museum. The town is famous for a Gruyere type cheese made with Swiss knowledge, staff and equipment with the huge round wheels weighing 20kg.

We found a Vodafone shop that put 25Gb of data on for a few pounds and had a look round the shops and markets before returning to base. The following morning the cheese museum proved to be excellent and after a thorough look round we bought a kilogram of their hard cheese and set off for a visit to Ani, the abandoned former capital of Armenia. However torrential rain forecast to last all day persuaded us to put this on the next time list and we decided to drive south where the weather was forecast to improve. Stunning roads through snow capped mountains and past remote and simple villages and the small town of Agri brought us to a pass from where the vast expanse of Lake Van (1500 square miles) lay beneath us. We dropped down and eventually found the way off the dual carriageway on to a track that led us to the shore where we pitched up in glorious isolation. The poor weather saw itself out in a dramatic thunderstorm in the Iran/Turkey border mountains which fortunately stayed well away and we woke the following morning to cloudless skies so decided a day in the sun was justified. I tried out the awning to give us extra shade and we walked along the shore of this lake that has no outflow and therefore has a high level of soda which gives the water an almost soapy feel.

Two friendly soldiers walked by and asked for a selfie but otherwise we saw no one and were treated to a cracking sunset before a quiet night. Heading west, as will be the plan for several weeks, we turned off up to a small volcanic crater lake, Aygir Golu, on the slopes of Sulphan, an inactive volcano, before getting water in Tatvan with some local kids as fascinated as ever by our set up. A road climbed north to a vantage point from where we could look out over Lake Van and down in to one of the world's largest volcanic craters, the remarkable Nemrut Golu with snow lying on the shaded slopes of the crater rim. A road snaked down to the crater lake but just before the final section a friendly guy waved us over offering tea. We stopped and greeted Faisal and his friend who it transpired live up here for 6 months of the year in a simple shack with water from the lake and a wood fired hearth to boil up a brew. He said it was fine to stay there for the night so we walked down to the surprisingly busy road end and then returned to talk with an Austrian couple who also decided to stay. They were travelling with another couple all rather bundled up in leathers on a pair of KTMs who headed back out for a hotel in town leaving us to enjoy a quiet night keeping an ear out for the bears that still live in the area. As the Austrians were heading to Georgia I gave them my Silknet SIM and the useful insurance leaflet.

After walking out to the main lake once more we left Faisal a few pounds as a thank you - he hadn't even wanted to charge us for the tea, before climbing out of this remarkable place and refiling with water plus a tank of BP Ultimate for the van at 93p/litre as only basic diesel had been available in Georgia and Armenia.

En route to Diyarbakir via Silvan we turned off on a hot Sunday afternoon to the remarkable Malabadi bridge where families were enjoying picnics and finding shade where they could. 

My Garmin Sat Nav had been freezing up increasingly frequently in Georgia and Armenia so I had dug out my old Aguri device which covered Turkey but not G and A but bang on the outskirts of busy Kayapinar it too gave up the ghost leaving us to revert to Google maps, unfamiliar in sat nav mode to both of us, and slow to react in the narrow streets as we entered Diyarbakir. However we reached the parking lot outside the city walls at the southern gate, Mardin Kapi, and pulled in tight under the only tree as the temperature was in the mid thirties. The town walls are almost intact and amount to around five miles with numerous towers, four main gates and a castle that contains a mosque, museum and extensive public gardens. Elsewhere within the walls a colourful and vibrant town is jammed in, bisected by two main thoroughfares and comprising of a fascinating network of narrow streets, markets stalls, small workshops, cafes, restaurants and some tightly packed in housing. Everyone was friendly and welcoming with no persistent hassling from the vendors, inquisitive, excited but polite children and shy women who wanted to say hello. Soberingly a few, probably homeless, migrant women were sat begging on the pavements with small children who clearly faced a very difficult future and reminded us of our great good fortune. This is very much a Kurdish settled part of Turkey and the people dream one day of an independent homeland to call their own after persecution by the likes of such characters as Saddam Hussein and more recently Assad of Syria. Yet again as I saw in Armenia and Georgia conflict most deeply affects some of the most vulnerable in society.

After a good walk round we dropped in to a smart restaurant for a delicious meal on their cool terrace before returning to the van on a sweltering evening so left all the windows and roof vents open and reduced the bedding to just a covering sheet. Monday saw us walking more of the walls and stopping for home made ice cold lemonade in a lovely cool courtyard. After visiting the very excellent museum within the fort complex and grabbing a kebab in a cool fast food joint we dropped back to the van where I made a good impression on the group of boys kicking a partially deflated football around our parking area as I had the right adapter and a pump to hand.

Adjacent to the van was a shady park where the small cafes had rugs laid out with comfy cushions to sit on so we ordered the small glasses of black tea and planned our onward journey. Later we returned to town, looked around the grand mosque and walked the last section of walls where a woman asked us to stop for tea at her simple set up. 

Again she wouldn't take anything and we were as humbled as ever by people's friendliness and generosity. In town we saw a courtyard restaurant serving a variety of Turkish dishes and were soon settled on comfy benches as the young waiters tried out their best English. As the night before salads, spicy dishes, pickles and onions arrived with water and soon after our delicious chicken and lamb kebabs. Walking back we met a talented calligrapher who produced a souvenir and asked for a selfie, as had the restaurant owner, as English tourists are a rare sight this far east. We looked in again at the remarkable caravanserai that now contains stalls and cafes and absorbed the colourful street atmosphere as we headed home Back at the van I remembered the Eber had a ventilation setting that just moves air around which made a difference as we took cool showers and settled down after walking almost ten miles.

Today we have moved on west again and up in to the slightly cooler mountains and are parked up for a service stop with access to a washing machine at the Nemrut Dagi hotel and restaurant where we will be dining outside this evening. They are building an ambitious 24 room hotel so the yard is a bit of a construction site but Omar and his family are very friendly and welcoming. We got water in Diyarbakir and exchanged a gas bottle locally so are good to go for another week.

Extras, extras...

Goodbye Georgia.....

My last night in Armenia was alongside a small fish farm on a very sunny afternoon but after sunset a dramatic thunderstorm developed with remarkable lightning and claps of thunder that literally shook the van. I was grateful for the shelter of the van and a few trees but gradually things abated and the following morning I was away as the sun appeared once more for the border crossing at Guguti which was speedy and trouble free on a quiet morning. I took out two weeks additional insurance for Georgia for about £15 and stopped on a warm morning to look round the Dmanisi monastery complex just along the valley. In the nearby town of the same name I stopped to see if I could get my Silknet SIM reactivated and topped up but the only phone shop was closed so I carried on to Bolnisi where a small shack did the necessary and I stopped for a lunch of grilled pork and chips.

The enthusiastic driving of Tbilisi required attention and concentration but I was soon pulling up behind the magnificent cathedral in a parking area popular with overlanders. These ranged from a few large MAN 4x4 trucks to a Subaru saloon with a tarpaulin stretched over the boot lid bearing Californian plates. The other trucks were either Dutch or German with most people waiting for visas from the various embassies in the city for onward travel through Russia to the Stans.

I walked down to get an overview of the city and spotted a cyclist I had seen a couple times earlier in the day, Sophia was from Bilbao and had set off last July with the intention of reaching Japan in two year's time, she had endured last night's storm in a tent - impressive...

I crossed the river and watched as the trip boats struggled upstream against the waters swollen by the heavy rain which added to the meltwater from the Caucasus ranges to the north and then enjoyed walking round the old town and checked out the small launderette before returning past the Presidential Palace that looks out over the city. I chatted to some of the various other travellers before settling down for a quiet night.

Next morning I stuffed my laundry in to a rucksack and returned to the launderette enjoying coffee and cake in a rather lovely cafe before taking the clean and dry laundry back to the van and spending the afternoon doing some onward planning.

I spent Tuesday on a rather frustrating and unproductive search for a place to fill my gas cylinders which included getting jammed up in chaotically gridlocked traffic around a major hospital. I stopped at a large Carrefour, the first recognisable supermarket chain in months, and was in awe of the range of produce sold and then sat at a large church looking across to the airport and tracked Mandy's progress via Milan and across the Black Sea. Heading out to the airport on the dual carriageway an old beemer with no lights screamed past me and then suddenly his front bumper was skittering across both lanes requiring evasive action. He screeched to a halt in the fast lane and began reversing at speed to retrieve his loss but fortunately I was past him and soon turning off to the modest sized airport. Parking at 5 GEL was reasonable enough and apparently overnighting is allowed but as the Cathedral park up was so near and convenient for the city that's where we were headed. Mandy emerged through the arrivals door and as always I was touched by the joyful reunions awaiting the incoming passengers.

With a three hour time difference to absorb we parked up and went to the small cafe near the Cathedral entrance for a beer before retiring. The following morning we walked down to Rike Park, obtained the metro travel card and then took the cable car up to the Mother Of Georgia statue before in hot sun walking back down to town and enjoying a light lunch in a decent deli and then exploring the old town once more before returning to the park up.

Next morning we walked down to the centre again, just missed the Clock Tower striking so just had to have coffee and cake to while away another hour. It amuses me how many tourists gather for such a simple sight (we of course being guilty as charged) and then walked past the statue of St George slaying a dragon before reaching the 120 year old funicular that required another travel card which could also be loaded for the rides up at Mtatsminda Amusement Park.

Here we first tried the huge Ferris wheel for a remarkable view over the city and then dared a ride on the roller coaster, a first for both of us. The sled gradually ascended a steep incline and then plunged in to a loop the loop and finished with a corkscrew section that left us laughing our heads off. The log plume was equally exhilarating and we finished off with the cable car back to the valley floor and walked down the main Rustaveli street passing the Art Museum and Parliamentary buildings where the police were closing roads in anticipation of a political protest. Back at the van we showered and changed before a meal at the bar where some lovely staff served us an excellent meal at very reasonable prices.

Our need for gas meant a quick run back to Gori, stopping en route at the Svetitskhoveli walled monastery in Mtskheta, one of Georgia's most celebrated religious sites that is thought to contain Christ's robe under a large stone altar. A return visit to the impressive cave village of Uplistsikhe was well worthwhile and at the central parking in Gori we nipped across to get 3 cylinders filled before walking in to town for a good meal at the Black Stars restaurant where a likeable Ukrainian toddler wanted to show me his plastic military toy set which of course was very thought provoking.

The following morning as hoped the last gas cylinder had expired so we called at our guy again with all four refills coming to under a tenner. In yet another sign of Georgian decency and honesty he was reluctant to take a tip and we dropped the cylinders back at the van before heading in to town as I needed a haircut. Mandy had a quick look round the outside of the Stalin Museum meanwhile and then we got some fruit and veg before heading off. 

I had planned for us to stay out in the wilds so we headed towards Borjomi and then turned up towards Bakuriani which to our surprise turned out to be a vast partially finished but mostly unoccupied ski resort that held no appeal. We tried other options in the immediate area to no avail so returned to Borjomi and found a peaceful spot in a loop of old road beneath the ruins of Cixe castle. An exciting suspension bridge took us over to beautiful meadows in a natural basin with cows grazing around the ruins of a small church. 

Next morning the herdsman stopped to say hello and have a nosey at the van before we moved on stopping first at the extensive fort complex of Rabati in Akhaltsikhe. As I exited a confusing roundabout layout I spotted police lights in my wing mirror, a common enough sight as they always drive round with them illuminated, but a command from the tannoy is an indication to stop. The guy was friendly enough, asked for my passport and driving licence and then my insurance, all of which his colleague checked against a laptop database and declared in order. He then asked me to open a sealed plastic packet containing a sterile tube for his breathalyser, another test passed without issue after which we were on our way.

The Rabati fort was superb with extensive walls, turrets and towers, beautiful gardens, fountains and other features and a majestic bronze domed mosque that was a sign that the town had seen many nationalities and religions live peacefully side by side for generations. I had taken the the opportunity with the police officer to confirm that our intended border crossing is open - the friends in Kazakhstan have a 2000 km detour thanks to a closed border point with Uzbekistan.

We stopped at Khertvisi castle which dominates the confluence of two rivers and contains a small but very moving chapel and bought fresh asparagus from the tiny stall near the entrance. We then carried on up the valley to find a quiet picnic area outside Akhalkalaki and settled in on a cool evening enlivened by a sighting of a yellow coloured fox. The following morning dawned bright and sunny so we climbed nearby Tavshanka hill at just 6,000' for views across to the mountains lying along the Turkish and Armenia borders. Out at Ninotsminda we failed to find the extensive ruined monastery, it turns out there are two Ninotsmindas so it actually lay three hours away on the east side of Tbilisi, a fortunately rare error in my research! In a back street we were amused to see an old lorry back, now on Georgian plates, still signwritten for Lewis's Pies way back in Swansea!!

We stopped at the excellent water point in the town once more, noticing a new railway line and freight marshalling facility being constructed on the line in from Turkey, and then again at Khertvisi for more asparagus before following the Kura gorge to the remarkable Vardzia Cave Village. A short climb up to a gravel parking area and view point looked like the perfect place to park up and we talked with the young Dutch couple already there who are heading to Armenia via Tbilisi. As we are leaving the Caucasus they were very grateful for my old Rough Guide, the more recent tourist information leaflets and my Viva SIM.

We walked down to the ticket office for Vardzia and spent three hours engrossed in the amazing labyrinth of cave homes, store rooms, wine cellars, temples and meeting rooms that were part of the 600 or so hewn out spaces. In the beautiful church that had been created we were able to take a tunnel through to a spring deep inside mountain and then another that led to a series of lofty balconies. Other steps, tunnels and ledges led us to the far end of the settlement a couple of layers below the private quarters of a handful of monks who still live in the complex and toll the bells daily. Back at the church we were able to enter the main nave with its remarkable 12th century frescoes before finally leaving by a series of steep staircases and narrow tunnels that had once been a secret escape route. It was a quite incredible place and later from our lofty perch across the valley we watched as the whole cliff face was illuminated after sunset.

After a very quiet night we decided to get the bikes off for a ride further up the valley although we delayed our departure by an hour or two to let a shower pass. I had a flat rear but fortunately the sealant had held around the rim so a quick blast from the compressor and all was well although my saddle clamp is not right so needs regular readjusting. However we enjoyed the ride up to the remote village of Mirashkhani taking shelter in a small chapel during a heavier shower and spotting a French 4x4 truck parked up down by the river. The Dutch couple had travelled with an English family in a similar truck for a while and said it was interesting to see how often they had to compromise on getting to places due to their height, weight and width and even with the low fuel prices over here 7mpg must hurt.

We took the side road up to the delightful nunnery at Upper Vardzia and then sped along to the Vardzia Panorama restaurant that was fortunately very warm as we arrived rather wet. However beer, wine and an excellent meal for £25 saw us reinvigorated for the last short sharp climb back to the van where as always we appreciated the comforts of the Eber and a hot shower.

Tomorrow we will head over to Turkey via Akhalkalaki stopping en route to soap wash the bikes and van and jet wash the latter as the last few weeks have left it with a patina of credibility but it's always good to present well at borders. We'll fill up with fuel at about 62p a litre which should get rid of the last Georgian lari and fortunately I still have a month left on my Turkish vehicle insurance so that will be one less administrative hurdle. The Dutch couple had taken four hours to get in to Georgia, much of that due to the paperwork for their cat...

I hope my Turkish Vodafone SIM can be reactivated but as we will be in the country for a month getting a new one wouldn't matter and from Greece onwards I'll be using the O2 European roaming allowances.

My seven weeks in Georgia and Armenia have exceeded expectations and provided a wealth of memories, so many remarkable sights and experiences and such heart warming interactions with locals, fellow travellers and people from countries as far flung as Belarus, Iran, China, the USA and India as well as from across Europe.

The ongoing conflicts around the world seem at odds with the way normal people engage and interact and following my friends travels through Russia and Kazakhstan has inspired me to return this way one day, and then today we meet a Swiss couple just returning from time in Iran....

Watch this space and

CLICK FOR FLICKS

Amen to Armenia

I heard children's voices with a familiar accent and met Chris and his family who work in the British Embassy in Tbilisi and were on a short holiday to Armenia. The boys were excited to be staying in the old buses and the experience was no doubt enhanced by a terrific thunderstorm that brewed up after dark with the rolls of thunder shaking the van. However the day dawned bright so I filled up with water, said my goodbyes and moved off stopping initially at Khor Virap monastery before taking a road up in to the hills and leading to the viewpoint for the stunning Azat reservoir. It was such a nice spot that I decided to park up early along a track and enjoy some sunshine as a few cars and the odd tour minibus pulled in for the panorama.

Later a small helicopter buzzed in to view, set down on an island and a group descended for a picnic. Not long after they departed one of the shepherds came over and we had the usual exchanges via pointing and other gestures supplemented by a bit of Google Translate. He seemed to be suffering in the heat and was grateful for oranges and some water but eventually wandered off with his flock after showing me pictures of his home and family which were a couple of miles away. A lovely young Italian couple came over to say hello as they'd clocked my UK plates and we spent a good hour over coffee discussing van life before they moved on as they had a flight home that same evening from Yerevan twenty or so miles away. The evening was spent in glorious solitude as the sun set but rain swept in overnight before I made my way to the remarkable Garni Temple of Graeco-Roman origin and built in the 1st Century AD. It was destroyed in an earthquake in 1679 but eventually rebuilt by the Soviets in 1968, probably delayed by bat surveys etc... The lighting, stage and instruments of a concert held the previous evening were still lying around as I explored the site with a few other tourists as its proximity to Yerevan makes it a popular attraction.

In the gorge below was the remarkable Symphony of Stones which was an astounding display of hexagonal basalt columns lining both sides of the canyon. I got soaked walking down there and whilst sitting in a shelter spoke to a Russian couple who want to visit the UK. They were intrigued by my journey and said I should visit Russia but recommended St Petersburg over Moscow.....

Moving on to the Geghard Monastery complex, another popular destination, there was a lively wedding party just leaving after a ceremony in one of the many churches within the site. A convoy of fancy cars departed with horns blaring and hazards flashing leaving the rest of us to explore the many old chapels and other buildings in peace.

P4N gave a number of options for staying in the Armenian capital Yerevan so I entered the coordinates for one above the centre and near the Embassy quarter which I figured might have decent security. Despite the usual enthusiastic and unpredictable driving style of the locals I arrived in a large gravel parking area with a number of bays that cut in to the surrounding woodland so was able to reverse in to a discreet spot for my planned two night stay. A short walk brought me to the base of the tower that supports the enormous Mother of Armenia statue that looks out over the city and beyond to the snow clad summit of Mount Ararat. Within the tower is a military museum and a few old bits of military hardware were dotted around outside.

A walk through the park led me via an underpass to another memorial that sits at the top of the Cascades which I would explore the following day so I returned through an empty funfair to the van and gave an 'attendant' in a hi vis 500 dram for the night (about a quid). The evening views over the city were remarkable and I had a very quiet night once the odd boy racer had been seen off by the attendant.

The following day dawned bright and sunny and was forecast to get very warm so I set off back to the top of The Cascades which lead down to the centre. In a rather long term project that lurches in fits and starts towards eventual completion a remarkable series of steps in white marble lead up the hillside but at present there is a huge section yet to be finished. Thus a derelict tangle of half built concrete pillars with rebar sticking out at crazy angles, ramps hanging in mid air and creeping vegetation taking over sits above a stunning slope of staircases, gardens and fountains. On one side but under cover is a line  of escalators that run 12 hours a day whisking you up and down with numerous works of art on display alongside and galleries built in to the various levels. I really enjoyed the experience of ascending and descending several times to see all the various sculptures and creations.

Emerging in to a large park with more sculptures I then explored the compact city centre passing the opera house on Freedom Square and reaching the huge Republic (formerly Lenin) Square which houses the vast Museum of Armenia. In the 2800 Anniversary Park I enjoyed lunch in a small cafe before walking round to the fascinating and richly decorated Blue Mosque whose restoration was largely funded by Iran. It was possible to walk round and after slipping off my shoes even enter the mosque itself where there were separate entrances and sections for men and women. Inside there were a few guys prostrate on the huge carpeted area and a large number of Islamic texts were lined up around the walls. The gardens outside but within the walled compound were a veritable oasis and after a short rest I was back out to walk through to the foot of the Cascades once more. I couldn't resist the temptations of the various cafes and restaurants so, perhaps bizarrely, settled on a Chinese/Japanese outfit that served up an excellent and spicy Hong Kong Chicken washed down with a couple of beers.

Thus I was glad of the escalators once more and strolled back through the fairground that had sprung to life on a Saturday night. The Eye ferris wheel gave me great views across the surrounding area before I returned to the van for a doze. As dusk arrived I went back out for some night photography and watched as dark clouds rolled in with ominous flashes of lightning in the distance. Then with no further warning suddenly the winds blew up and the heavens opened with an absolute deluge. Parents grabbed their kids and everyone hared off back to their cars parked around the van and within ten minutes there was just myself and the attendant now rather forlornly clad in waterproofs as the downpour and storm continued.

Things had cleared away by the morning and I left noting that a camper with Russian plates was still tucked away in a far corner so I guessed they might be awaiting visas, judging by the stickers on the sides and the four bikes on a rack they seemed like a well travelled family. My friends from Italy have now passed through Russia and entered Kazakhstan with few issues other than lengthy border procedures, a fascinating tale.

My next stop was at the hugely moving Armenian Genocide Memorial where piles of flowers lay around the eternal flame beneath the 12 concrete pillars that represent Armenia's regions with a tall needle shaped pillar alongside whose longitudinal split reflects the splitting of Armenia in to two with much of the west being subsumed by the Ottoman, now Turkish, authorities which is an ongoing issue that keeps the border closed.

Heading west I stopped at Zvartnots Cathedral whose remarkably intricate carved columns have the snow capped summit of Mount Ararat as a backdrop. 

Nearby Echmiadzin is a major centre for Armenian religion and at Sardarapat a memorial tower commemorates a major victory against Turkey in 1918 that limited the fall of further Armenian territory. Two red stone bulls adorn the entrance and a curved wall of intricate carvings sits beyond well tended gardens.

Two beautiful churches, both missing their cupolas, at Aruch and Talin plus the red fort at Dashtadem provided interest before I began the long steep climb via numerous hairpins on the road towards Mt Aragat's snow capped summits that lie above 4,000m. The patches of snow increased until at around 2,700m a huge drift prevented further progress so I dropped back to around 2,500m and parked along a short side track with panoramic views. Despite the altitude it didn't get cold enough to need the heater and I enjoyed both a good sunset and a bright and sunny dawn. A little lower and a few miles back sits the Amberd Fort and an adjacent church where restoration work is haphazardly underway but appears to have received a setback as a large section of wall and a tower have recently collapsed. 

Heading away I passed a huge area where concrete posts have been installed in neat rows which may be for fruit or nut trees and soon reached the Armenian Alphabet Museum where an artist has installed reproductions of the letters of the alphabet in the local red stone in a visually very appealing manner.

At nearby Saghmosavank and Hovhannavank monasteries I met a multinational group including a guy from Cardiff of Armenian heritage and a lady from New York on her 62nd visit to the country!

P4N listed a place in Pemzashen that I hoped would provide a good service point but the Stone Art guesthouse looked unoccupied and the gates were locked so I carried on to another listing in Gyumri, Armenia's second largest city where the parking area for a fish restaurant looked suitable. The friendly staff said it would be fine to stay so I tucked away in a corner and later enjoyed a delicious grilled trout, chips and a brownie and ice cream dessert all washed down with the local, if not lo-cal, beer. The wooden restaurant sat adjacent to the trout farm so of course the fish was fresh but the menu also listed a huge variety of fishy dishes using other species.

After a quiet night I was away in to the centre for a look round. Gyumri was badly hit by the 1988 earthquake that flattened Spitak away to the east and whilst the two main churches and the civic centre have been rebuilt work is still underway in the suburbs. One of the rebuilt churches has its original enormous stone dome still in place alongside where it crashed to the ground. Away to the south a short walk took me in to the Shuka market place which was reminiscent of the souks of Morocco although here dozens of coffee sellers had mounds of various beans in sacks lined up rather than tea.

Another substantial Mother of Armenia statue stood outside the centre next to the circular Black Fort and not far away P4N guided me to a public fountain where I could easily fill up before the quick run to Marmashen, a collection of 5 red stone churches with two intact and three in ruins. En route I stopped at the Russian Iron Fountain, a peculiar and slowly disintegrating structure.

The access road down to the monastery complex is much improved and there are new parking spaces beside a picnic area so I decided it would very much do for the night. A very friendly woman came out and took me down to the main church and unlocked it. She then stood in front of the altar and in a strong and beautiful voice sang a prayer of welcome, very moving. After looking round she showed me some of the handicrafts she makes and I was happy to buy a couple of simple hand stitched friendship dolls before heading off for a look at the river. Whilst sat overlooking the still waters a guy in military fatigues came over but conversation was limited. However by signs and gestures he indicated that he was fishing and indicated that I should follow him along the bank. He produced a long stick with baler twine attached that at the other end had just a tangle of wire which he launched in to the water. He drew it out and then cast it back in again but I couldn't see how this was going to produce results....

However he was in fact grappling for a submerged length of plastic pipe beneath which a net was suspended and as it emerged from the water half a dozen or so fish were entrapped. Removing them from the net they were quickly dispatched and he pointed further along the bank after returning the net to the water. The next spot was his little camp where a canvas bag contained around a dozen more fish and he had some simple provisions laid out. He insisted on giving me bread, tomatoes and cucumber and then finished off with a handful of nettles that he scrunched up to remove the sting before we both ate them raw. It was a humbling experience sat there and he got quite emotional at one point as he indicated that his father and two brothers had died in the 2020 dispute with Azerbaijan over Ngorno Karabakh. I sat a while longer trying to express my sympathy but eventually indicated that I was going at which point he tried to give me all twenty or so fish! I explained I was travelling alone and they would be wasted so we settled on three and after some heartfelt bear hugs I was on my way.

Back at the van I gutted the catch, put the scraps out for the cats and was just settling in when a convoy of cars arrived at speed including two top of the range Mercedes Maybach limousines. I'd noticed a van pull up earlier and the occupants dashing off to the main church and realised that a wedding was underway so wandered over to take a look. The handicrafts woman said it would be fine to go inside so I stood discreetly at the back as the ceremony took place.

Outside the happy couple were showered with rose petals and the laborious process of photography continued, including the presumably nowadays obligatory drone so not wishing to be immortalised as a mystery guest I slipped away.

The wedding party disappeared later in a convoy of revving engines and blaring horns and I wondered what the elderly priest thought as he got in to his battered old Lada and drove slowly after them.

The buildings looked lovely at night with the various spotlights and by 10pm I had the place to myself as rain moved in.

Warm sunshine woke me and I was away for the hour or so's drive to Lake Arpi which sits in the eponymous National Park and is reached by a sinuous ten mile dirt track. The second largest lake in Armenia, it is surrounded by snow capped mountains that border Turkey to the west and Georgia to the north and reach about 3,000m with the lake at about 2,000m. I called at the Park Headquarters and after registering with my passport and vehicle details was told I could park up anywhere. The very friendly guy with good English who I spoke to is doing a Masters degree with a thesis on National Parks so was interested to learn about the Brecon Beacons and asked for a photo of me and the van to include in his work. He explained that the farming families live up here all year round but other herdsmen bring their stock in for the summer months and occupy some of the less derelict empty properties.

As directed I set off round the shoreline to some pine trees where he said I would see more wildlife so I followed a rough and muddy track until eventually a particularly soft section saw me spin to a halt. Fortunately a park sign to the picnic area was sturdy enough to provide an anchorage for the winch and following the fun and games back in Georgia I now had all the recovery kit in one place. Stupidly however once I gained momentum I allowed the winch that hangs off the towing eye to catch under the bumper which smashed the connection point for the cable that runs from the remote switch. However it was easy enough to separate the winch housing, disconnect the two spade connectors and wire the remote in directly, which is in fact a more robust arrangement than the original. 

Anyway I settled in on more solid ground and put myself up on the levelling ramps to prevent any more sinking and give me a bit of downhill for departure. I then put everything away and enjoyed the afternoon sun and at dusk the sight of the sheep and cattle herders heading back home, all of whom gave me a friendly wave.

After a silent night under a superb starry sky the solar panel was activated by the rising sun and I decided it was high time I got out on the bike. I set off on the 20 mile circuit of the lake with the scenery feeling very much like my favourite parts of mid Wales and the track in places just as boggy. I passed through a couple of very humble villages where although many of the ramshackle cottages had a solar hot water set up and the inevitable satellite dish they were still drying slabs of a dung and straw mix for winter fuel. Mains power lines were in situ but I imagine the supply could be erratic in winter. Passing the HQ again I had a quick chat with the Ranger, he was very apologetic that I had got stuck, when he took the van details he had assumed T4 meant four wheel drive......

After another quiet night I was away mid morning as rain was forecast and although the track in had dried out significantly the day before I knew it would soon get sticky again.

I dropped back to Gyumri to refill with water and also filled the diesel tank for £70 before taking the road north towards Tashir and the border. I passed Spitak which was destroyed in the 1988 earthquake and stopped in Stepanavan for some fruit, vegetables and other bits and bobs. The lady wanted me to try her range of pickled veg kept in barrels which I did but they weren't for me although it made for an amusing exchange.

So I'm now just a few miles from the border and will cross back over in to Georgia tomorrow. Armenia has been a remarkable, absorbing and varied country which is really suited to van life and has given me innumerable memories and experiences. Meeting so many locals and getting to grips with the long and challenging history of this now small nation has been a privilege.

A couple of days to get things done in and around the van such as laundry, gas refills, housework and the like will be useful and with luck Mandy will arrive on schedule on Tuesday. We will do a couple of weeks in Georgia and then head west through central Turkey, northern Greece and back across to Italy with no specific schedule or return date.

The usual bonus (?) pics here..

Up, up and away in Armenia

So with the poor weather clearing away to be replaced by higher temperatures and warmer nights I hoped the pass over towards Southern Armenia would be open as it would save a hundred mile detour via Yerevan. Leaving the shore of Lake Sevan I passed through the town of Martuni and began climbing on a decent road that led over the Selim Pass at 2410m (a shade under 8,000') with just one section on the approach to the highest point being a bit ropey. The snow clad ranges to the south and west were looking superb and just over the pass on the warmer southern facing slopes I stopped at the 13th Century Orbelian Caravanserai. This solid building comprised an entrance hallway and then on the left a long dark room where travellers and their pack animals would have rested over the centuries. It was of sturdy construction and very atmospheric with a real sense of history. Outside a jovial Armenian couple with a reasonable grasp of French were selling various home made trinkets ranging from jams to jewellery, vodka, wine and some very beautiful sewn items such as aprons, caps and shawls. I bought a few bits and bobs at perhaps rather high prices but as in Morocco I felt they deserved support for their initiative.

Following an old truck down the numerous switchbacks I realised there were half a dozen or so cattle tethered in the open back which explained the driver's cautious progress so on a short straight stretch I was soon safely past. Down at Yeghegnadzor it was much milder and spring was well advanced. The Crossroads Camping set up was noted for later use as I turned east on what is effectively the main road South towards Iran but was no more substantial than a minor A road back home. A left turn heading north took me back up towards the mountains and was quite rough in places. A wedding was underway at one church as I carried on through bare mountain scenery under a warm sun to reach Tanahat monastery perched in isolation on a hill. The level car park just below the cluster of buildings seemed the perfect place to stop even though it was only lunchtime and I broke out the chair to top up my Vitamin D. The small monastery was open and had the usual very moving images, candles and tapestries gracing the central altar whilst outside were some interesting carved headstones.

The following morning I dropped down to the Arpa valley once more and pulled in for a look at the beautiful church just before Vayk. The woman who looks after it wanted to show me the terrace, behind a small building where she is trying to start a cafe, which had a good view over the valley. She was delighted that I ordered coffee and she eventually produced a black and fearsome brew supplemented by a homemade cake. She also produced some hard boiled eggs which she indicated were to celebrate Easter. As I left she came over with several egg trays and asked for a lift in to the village but didn't seem to want one back so I left her there and carried on south noting that some of the trucks hauling containers were displaying Iranian plates.

A turning off to Jermuk climbed steeply out of the valley on a series of hairpins and then headed out to the town which was once a hugely popular Soviet spa resort so is of course now somewhat in decline. A chairlift takes you up to a point above the town with panoramic views all round, it was early and I was the only passenger on the surreally smooth and silent journey. At the top a few locals were foraging for mushrooms to sell and a ramshackle cafe was just opening up but before long I was on my way back down and got chatting to an American couple who had clocked my van in the carpark.

Jermuk's other main attraction is the Mermaids Hair cascade waterfall found beneath the bridge that spans the gorge after which I had a look round the small town which sported a couple of grand hotels and the Spa Museum which had four spouts issuing steady streams of the hot sulphurous waters. Just below town on a spur overlooking the reservoir I parked up by a simple chapel for a very quiet night with just a few cattle for company.

The Yerevan - Meghri highway carried on over the Vorotan Pass at 2344m with the usual high spirited driving as ancient Ladas and more modern vehicles risked overtaking on the rare stretches with visibility and many without. Keeping a close eye on my mirrors I was content to tuck in behind the trucks keeping an eye out for the numerous and random potholes that were a frequent hazard. The scenic Spandaryan reservoir had a few park ups listed in P4N but it was a cool and exposed plateau so I passed by and dropped down to Sisian where a rural road took me out over the dam of the Tolors reservoir. This was many metres below its normal level and a church buried beneath the waters for decades was now accessible across the muddy reaches above the reduced water level. The beautiful arches of the door and windows were still visible but the walls had largely collapsed along with much of the roof. I could have stayed there but I felt it was rather too prominent a position and whilst the surrounding mud was baked hard and dry even the slightest shower would have made departure interesting. Luckily just a mile or two further along the road there was a cracking grassy area below the bridge over the river that feeds the reservoir that was an ideal place to stay. An Armenian family arrived for a picnic later and I was pleased to see that they took all their rubbish away, sadly most previous visitors had not.

Further on from Sisian the Vorotnavank monastery occupied a commanding position overlooking the Vorotan river. Some restoration work was underway with a couple of guys working at height to reroof a side chapel on scaffolding that looked likely to ensure a stairway to heaven. The road was again the main route through to Kapan and eventually Iran via Meghri but carried little traffic although there was a noticeable increase in military vehicles as this part of Armenia is surrounded by areas disputed with Azerbaijan. The invasion of the Nagorno Karabakh region displaced 100,000 Armenians and during their hasty departure over 200 people died in a fire at a fuel depot as they fled to Goris and the surrounding areas in 2023. The exclave of Nakhchivan is away to the west and another source of tension as it is a geographically separated region of Azerbaijan. En route to Goris I checked out the Wings of Tatev cable car but being a Monday it was closed : I assumed Easter Monday would count as a holiday but not in these parts so carried on down in to the town where a friendly lad filled the van with diesel. This tank will get me back to Tbilisi and beyond as just ten miles further on would mark my turning point on this trip. Should the borders of Azerbaijan open one day then I would definitely return as I would also like to reach those higher and more remote parts of Georgia closed by snow for the moment. The friends heading to Russia finally made it over that snow bound border after a 3 day wait at lower levels and a 20 hour queue at the border itself, their early reports of Russia and it's people are sounding very favourable. As always a nation's reputation is often founded on news reports of actions and events far removed from the everyday lives of the majority of the populace.

The ancient cave village of Old Khndzoresk was reached by a very bumpy track that would be impossible after rain but after 4km I reached the carpark which despite a slope would I decided do for the night. 

A steep flight of rickety wooden steps took me down to a suspension bridge that crossed a deep valley to reach what was once the largest village in eastern Armenia. Only finally abandoned in the 1950's it housed around 8,000 people in 1,800 households and had two schools, seven tanneries and a couple of churches, most of which remain today and can be freely explored. I spent an absorbing couple of hours nosing around under a hot sun before crossing back over the swaying bridge to head back to the van. A group of enthusiastic army cadets had in my absence set up a small camp for the night but I was well away from them and was amused at how seriously such young people were taking things. Later that evening I booked my tickets online for the Wings of Tatev with a departure time of 10.15 so was off to bed a little earlier than normal.

The cadets were up and about early but quietly and I left in good time, taking the track slowly and thinking about the 4,000 or so miles that lie ahead to get home. I will need an oil change in about 3,000 miles so probably Greece or Italy but I have the filter and lube on board so it should be straightforward enough.

The Wings of Tatev is the world's longest cable car and sets off from above Halidzor to reach Tatev monastery 3.5 miles away. Two cabins run opposite to each other with the journey taking around 15 minutes and at one point sitting 1,000' above the valley floor with the line being in cross section effectively a W as the Tavet monastery is near enough at the same height as the departure point with two towers on an intervening ridge providing the crossing point. I joined a Spanish group as the doors closed and we swayed off over the first abyss with the most remarkable views straight down in to the village. After the mid point we swung out over an even deeper valley where Dinky Toy trucks were grinding up the numerous switchbacks of the steep sided gorge and then the monastery perched on the canyon edge appeared up above us.

After dismounting most people headed off for a coffee so I had the buildings, churches and chapels to myself for a while and then walked up to Tatev village itself, something 99.99% of people never do.. The humble streets and dilapidated housing were fascinating and a small shop enabled me to buy some orange juice and chocolate for lunch at the cliff edge graveyard with expansive views out across the valley to where the plains of Iran begin. The two cabins floated gracefully across in front of me and with my return trip booked for two o'clock I returned to the monastery spotting a campervan with Russian plates. In the cafe terrace I spotted two young touring cyclists who turned out to be French and on a rather demanding tour of the Caucasus, the weather and terrain had been against them for a while now.

Back a little early at the cable car the staff said I could jump straight on and by chance I had the cabin to myself apart from the operator so I could move around freely to make the most of a truly remarkable experience.

I retraced my route to Sisian stopping briefly at Armenia's equivalent of Stonehenge, Zorats Karer, where perhaps 8,000 years ago numerous vertical stones were laid out in circles and lines. A Slovenian woman was heading to Tatev as well but didn't know about the cave village, she was delighted that we had visited Skocjan Cave in her country only a couple of years ago.

I briefly considered staying up by the high reservoir but looming black clouds and the forecast of rain convinced me to return to Yeghegnadzor and try out the Crossroads Camping which has been a good decision. There are few campsites in Armenia and I doubt any would surpass this one. Laid out amongst fruit trees currently in blossom are areas for tents, some raised covered platforms for summer sleeping and two lovely old busses converted for sleeping in with very charming floral decor.

Alongside is the area for campers which I had to myself so I was soon topped up with water and plugged in with a good view across the valley. The shower facilities were clean and efficient although the washing machine was out of order but the ever helpful Svetlana insisted I could use the family machine over at the house. Later a young Iranian couple turned up to stay in a room and we had a bit of a chat with her limited English and Google Translate filling in with Persian as necessary!

My timing has worked well as today has so far seen persistent rain which is forecast to clear overnight so I've been dryIng the laundry courtesy of the fan heater and planning my last ten days or so in Armenia which will revolve around the capital Yerevan and of a few sights to the north en route back to Georgia and Tbilisi by the 6th for a VIP visitor.

Clicky Piccy

On in to Armenia

Sighnaghi has town walls, churches and Italianate housing on wide boulevards apparently but most of this was invisible thanks to thick, cold and wet fog so after a quick walk round on a damp and dismal evening I reverted to the only viable wet weather remedy : beer and chocolate.....2.5l of lager for £1.70.

The following morning was no better so after a quiet and cosy night beside the police station I was away down to the plains where the fog lifted but the rains persisted. Rivers were running at full pelt as I headed towards a small monastery at Ninotsminda where in the same village I was able to fill up with water. Setting the sat nav for another monastery carved out of a rock face took me through the large industrial areas around Rustavi before a poor road led me out towards Lemshveniera through a vicious storm with torrential range and violent squalls. Out of the blue on a perfectly straight stretch of road one such squall caused an oncoming HGV to swerve uncontrollably towards me leaving me no choice but to veer on to the verge and hit the brakes. The saturated grass was like ice and I dropped in to the gulley but fortunately avoided a line of trees edging a field. In such poor visibility I'm not even sure the truck driver saw what happened and he certainly didn't stop so I sat for a few minutes until the downpour ceased and then got out to assess the situation. Self rescue was out of the question as both right hand wheels had sunk in the gunk of the gulley and the trees, the only points to winch off, where not in a usable location. I had trouble finding the power cables for it anyway and had stuff out of everywhere looking for them and my ropes.

The odd car pulled over but no one seemed very keen on assisting : the vehicles here are by and large pretty decrepit and it would have been embarrassing to damage one. Despite the language barrier someone mentioned tractor and disappeared but nothing seemed forthcoming so I started digging towards the line of trees in the hope of squeezing between two and crossing the field. A guy stopped and insisted on trying to drive out for me but of course just revved too aggressively and got me further stuck.

Eventually three guys wandered over from I'm not sure where and with their help after some more digging we began to edge towards the trees. Not wishing to lose momentum it was a close thing as I slalomed between two sturdy trunks and headed towards the hint of a track but before I reached it another saturated patch of mud saw me lose traction. The guys valiantly ploughed across to me but I suggested the older one drove and after much exertion we were finally out of trouble. There was much cheering and backslapping and my large bottle of beer seemed poor recompense but was received with more cheers.

My intended destination, the monastery carved in to a rock face at Davit Gareja, was according to the sat nav down a side road but this was unsurfaced and after a few miles became slippery once more and mindful that my rescuers were far away and dusk was falling I decided to turn round and arrived back in Rustavi just after dark. A spot by the raging river gave me a good place to restore order in the van, place all recovery kit in one location and deal with the worst of the mud before heading to bed. The following day dawned bright and sunny giving me the opportunity to have everything back as it should be whilst the river swollen by rain and meltwater thundered past - yet again any calmer eddies were full of plastic bottles, it is a major issue here. I decided to have a relaxing day so walked in to town for lunch in a bar before soaking up the afternoon sun.

Thus it was time to head to Armenia which involved driving through the outskirts of Tbilisi where I decided to stop at one of the many bureau de change kiosks for some Armenian Drams as they all displayed rates that seemed to tally with my currency app. I only took the equivalent of £20 out as an ATM would with luck give a better rate once over the border and I also filled up with fuel as it is 70p/l in Georgia but a pound in Armenia. The road up to the border seemed very quiet but apparently freight takes a different route as it is mostly heading to the capital Yerevan and at the Passport Control there were just two cars in front of me and two Dutch Adventure Bikers. I was soon stamped out of Georgia and had a cursory customs check before heading over a bridge towards Armenian flags and a security check. 

After this Armenian Passport Control looked at my passport, driving licence and vehicle documents, scanned my image via a camera and directed me to the Customs building. Here a couple of guys took a look inside, ascertained that the bikes were not motorised and then indicated that I should park up and go in to another building. Here a helpful fixer pointed me to a kiosk that would issue my Temporary Import Permit (TIP) and then took me to the cashier who issued a slip of paper and a receipt for the equivalent of £15 cash. This enabled the TIP to be issued and after showing that at the final Customs Barrier I was on my way to see another young man pointing to a range of insurance broker kiosks a little further on. He wasn't wearing warm clothing and had cerebral palsy so was delighted when I indicated he should jump in for the short drive over. 

A very helpful guy, Vova, then issued me with a month's insurance for a rather steep £70 but had I been staying longer the pro rata rate would have been much lower, the TIP incidentally is valid for two years. He could only take cash but was happy to walk me back to the border and explain to the officials that I was just using the ATM, clearly they all know each other very well. After some quick calculations I took out 150,000 Dram (about £300) with a decent exchange rate and no transaction fee and was relieved that both notes and my card reappeared.

Back at the office I ensured that the O and 0 in my number plate were correctly recorded and explained the vagaries of my V5(C) that is the bilingual version of the usual document. He'd not seen Welsh before and being multi lingual, as whilst dealing with me he was also assisting a Russian guy, he was somewhat intrigued. On a whim I asked if he could sort me out a SIM and after copying my passport and producing a form to sign I had 20GB valid for 60 days for £13 which seemed reasonable. Vova warned me that speeding, smoking and phone use were big no no's and seatbelts of course compulsory but also stressed that the police were fair and honest.

Thus once more I was in to a new country with my route south following the Debed Canyon that carries the road and a railway line alongside a fast flowing river with razor wire discouraging anyone from taking a short cut. The road was washed out in places and some buildings looked damaged and I later found out that destructive floods had torn through the area only last May.  A side road took me up to the lofty Akhtala Monastery where the parking guy was happy for me to stay the night for just £2. The monastery lies within walled fortifications and contains some stunning frescoes from the 13th Century and I had a very quiet night overlooking the main valley.

On a wet morning I dropped back down to the main river over a very rickety wooden bridge, picked up the main road and was soon climbing out of the gorge once more to the monastery complex of Haghpat with a cluster of churches and other buildings. Odzun church further on again was bustling as it was Palm Sunday and was well situated with snow capped mountains behind that a hesitant sun was lighting up.

Alaverdi was a classic example of post Soviet industrial decay and soon led on to Armenia's 3rd largest city Vanadzor where I turned south to Dilijan where I spent the night near its park by the football pitch. A French camper swung round in the car park but didn't stop and on a damp evening I was otherwise undisturbed. My intention to visit the town museum was thwarted by Monday closing so instead I took the road up to the Haghartsin Monastery in the Dilijan National Park which soon passed above the snow line. Unfortunately fog rather took the edge off things although the buildings and their interiors were fascinating. An old guy in a hi vis approached me for parking and again I was struck by people's honesty as he held up two fingers which I took to mean 2000 Dram, about four quid. He shook his head and withdrew some coins from his pocket to show me he only wanted 200, about 40p....

My route south lay across a mountain range to Lake Sevan which occupies about one sixth of Armenia's land mass and a good road climbed steadily before passing under the highest ridges in a long straight tunnel. Emerging on the other side saw a marked  improvement in the weather with a much higher cloud base and in the distance the vast lake almost completely encircled by snow capped mountains. A busy road interchange had garages, shops, cafes and supermarkets so I stopped for some supplies and checked out the weather forecast. This implied that from Thursday onwards sunnier, warmer and more settled weather was due to prevail for the rest of the month so I decided I would hunker down on one of the many wild camping spots dotted around the shore. After getting bread and milk in a small shop at the very basic village of Shogakat and watching a freight train roll by I did try the 'Armenian Camp' that P4N suggested was an initiative aimed at helping disabled servicemen back in to work but after heading down there it was all locked up. Nearby pine trees on the shore seemed to offer a good sheltered spot but on walking down to the lake edge I noticed a somewhat dilapidated trailer seemed to be occupied and protected by a large dog.

Thus I returned to the road, back tracked a few miles and then took a firm dirt track down to the shore again beneath the snow clad ranges that mark the border with the disputed territory of Ngorno Karabakh. A strong cold northerly was whipping up the lake but the sandy, well drained close cropped turf alongside some pines offered me shelter with amazing views.

I woke next morning to a covering of snow which melted away as the sun rose and I spent the day walking the shore, planning my onward route and enjoying books from the Powys Library Service courtesy of the excellent BorrowBox app as snow showers alternated with clearer spells and the strong winds made the lake more like a seascape. Yesterday saw low cloud hanging over the area after another overnight snowfall and as the Eber has been working hard over the last few nights I decided to run the genny through it's last fuel to top up the leisure battery and various other items. Tucked away on its cable it was inaudible and ran for several hours on half a tank under a relatively low load. I also plugged in my charger for the engine battery as I have picked up a small fault, probably related to a sensor, whereby the coolant after run pump that kicks in when you turn the engine off to allow the turbo etc to cool down steadily doesn't then shut down. It's not a huge drain if you are driving regularly but as I was intending on parking up for 60 odd hours I pulled the fuse to shut it down and gave the engine battery a good top up. Whilst updating the blog I noticed that the internet on my spare phone wasn't working so assumed the poor weather had affected the infrastructure but at least my reading matter was available offline.

So after several weeks of very mixed weather today dawned bright and sunny as forecast and the true beauty of Lake Sevan and its surroundings came to light. The rubbish is a tragedy but nature still wins out so after breakfast I was away in to the small town of Vardenis where fortunately it had a VIVA shop - my phone service provider. A helpful assistant spent some time sorting out the issue, although I'm not sure what it was and then I picked up some fresh fruit and veg with the best choice for some time, got some groceries in a larger supermarket and was then on my way round the southern edge of the lake in glorious sunshine. Another track has brought me out on to the shore again and I have spent the afternoon soaking up the first decent sunshine in a month. I also checked the tyre pressures and wheel nut torques as I want to avoid the solid nuts on the rear near side that cropped up last year. Restored 3G has enabled me to catch up with the blog and look at my onward plans. If the road South towards the Iranian border is open then I will head that way : the snow is the issue but daytime temperatures of high teens up to mid twenties and overnight lows around ten should see it off soon enough. Friends heading to the Stans via Russia have had to hunker down as the unseasonably late snow has shut the road north of Tbilisi but judging by the forecast things are settling down.

Extra pics click here...