Yerevan and Garni

Yerevan

I spent a proud five nights in Yerevan.

First of all, this had a not-so-nice reason. I was sick. After my stomach had been rumbling since Georgia, the stomach-intestinal situation in Yerevan worsened and I had to rely on a nearby toilet. Of course, the defiance was still great, but I didn't want to tie myself to the bed, as I wanted to explore the city. Just two hours after arriving at the hostel, I spotted a disheveled, alternative Italian woman who arrived at the hostel and moved into the bed next to mine. When she sat in the common room, I approached her and asked if she would like to explore Yerevan with me. A few minutes later, we were on our way through the neatly paved streets. Yerevan is very beautiful, very tidy, shiny. In the evening, life begins and the restaurants are bursting at the seams. We were turned away from two restaurants right away because we didn't have a reservation. With a troubled stomach, I treated myself to a shawarma, which was the final blow for me.

So the next day I stayed in bed. End of story.

The third day was supposed to be quite "relaxed". But it wasn't that relaxed at all. In the morning, we set off to go to the Genocide Museum. It is located a bit outside of the city, so the journey took some time. However, the location of the museum on top of the city's roofs already shows from a distance the high relevance that the topic has for Armenia. When we arrived at the museum, I immediately noticed the large pine forest. Various heads of state and personalities had planted pines here in memory of the genocide. A pine from a German president was not found here, but let's not be like that, after all, we only recognized the genocide in 2016, so it may take some time for such a pine to be planted. The different sizes of the pines in the pine forest are striking. I concluded that the size differences may indicate when the genocide was recognized by which country. Google should help. And it did. Not a chance for a deep meaning: the pines have different sizes because they constantly wither and have to be replanted due to the heat. A coniferous forest at 40 degrees, that definitely calls for a tough tree life. Overall, the museum is absolutely recommendable. It is very impressive and immensely informative. You would probably have to go a second time to be able to absorb all the facets and details of Armenian history.

Devastated by all the information and terrible stories, I looked at my phone and saw a message. The person from the Free Walking Tour Yerevan that I contacted the day before asked if I wanted to participate, but I had to sign up. Between physical weakness and the burden of the genocide, I wrote that I wasn't completely sure yet, as I had been sick for days. The reply was short: No registration, no tour. Well, alright then. I registered myself and the Italian girl and asked again about the meeting point. "All the information can be found on the website." Well, that's not very friendly...but we still went to the meeting point where Vako, the Walking Tour Guide, was waiting. The names were checked, and when he read mine out in front of the group, he asked, "Do you still feel sick?" Well, I also didn't find that very sensitive. He didn't care that I answered yes to the question. We ran through the city and were stuffed with historical information, which always ended with Armenia being the first, the best, the oldest, the most important, and the culturally richest country in all conceivable aspects. We stayed on the tour, even though we didn't particularly like it. The atmosphere was so different from the walking tours in Tbilisi, which were youthful and reflected the mood of the city. When the tour group then climbed the many stairs of the Alexander Tamanyan Museum, which Noemi from Italy and I had already climbed in the morning, we broke away from the group with an Estonian couple. The couple confirmed all the impressions, they too had had negative experiences in the pre-communication and stumbled upon the arrogance of the oldest, best, richest, and first country (or rather, the way it was told). The couple and Noemi left without paying, but I felt like I still wanted to give him something for leading us through the city for three hours. So, I promptly ran into Vako, who greeted me with, "I thought you and your friend ran away. I made the whole group wait for you, so don't do this again on a tour." That was the last straw for me, after three hours of running without regard for loss and the limitation of a participant's mobility, as well as sentences like, "Please respect the fast ones." I was really angry. In my most passive-aggressive arrogance, I looked at him, put money in his hand, and wished him a nice evening in front of the group, with whom I would no longer spend any time. "Is she angry now?" Yup.

The following day, with the help of Imodium, I booked a classic tourist tour. With a coach, tour guide, and 10 other tourists with an average age of 65, we toured the country and explored churches. Despite my inner protest against this form of tourism, the Italian girl agreed to participate, so she sat next to me on the bus. Well, okay, I'm still not particularly interested in churches. However, it was impressive nonetheless. One church in particular stands out in my memory. Nowawank is beautifully situated and is stunning. The highlight was that a wedding was taking place here and we were able to eavesdrop on the ceremony. Wonderful!

At 10 p.m., it was time to go to bed.

I was already looking forward to the next day. Because it was time for horseback riding again. The girl from the tourist office had arranged a horse for me and a spry Armenian man to lead the horse by the reins. We leisurely went to the Symphony of Stones and I enjoyed the rocking sensation on the back of horse Julie. However, Julie didn't really enjoy the ride. She didn't like being constantly pulled in different directions by her horseman and started to buck. I felt a bit sorry for her, but what could I do? A bit deeper into the national park, the Armenian man asked me if I wanted to have the reins and if I could ride. Confidently, after my one-time ride in Udabno, I agreed. And then the fun began. Julie found it much cooler not to be pulled anymore and walked quite nicely but with a bit more spring in her step along the path. Her master (what do you call that with horses?) also thought it was great not to have to pull the animal around anymore. We rode over hill and dale like Amadeus and Sabrina, while the poor man walked beside us. But he didn't mind, so he stayed with me for an hour longer than planned. Awesome! Unfortunately, the man didn't know how to operate a cell phone camera, so there is no usable picture from this ride either, but the memories are well stored in my head.

In the afternoon, I went back to Yerevan and went to a folk dance festival with the Italian girl, which was free and taking place in the city. So that was Yerevan. While I initially thought it was great, then became a bit skeptical because everything in the city was so ostentatiously modern and pretty, I still liked the city. It's incomparable to Tbilisi. It lacks the charm of old cities. In Yerevan, a few years ago, the mistake was made to demolish most of the historic and old buildings in the city center and replace them with new ones. The people of Yerevan are now aware of this mistake and are starting to rebuild the old town with the stones from back then. Whether this will work out and give the city more old charm remains to be seen.