Armenia: As Old As Time (Literally)

For many, the lure of travel is the promise of adventure. It is the act of collecting stories to share at dinner parties of  close-calls on mountain tops, of hilarious miscommunications at a restaurant, or moments of clarity that dawn with a sunrise on a beach.

While booking a ticket to a new city or country stirs that sense of promise, there’s something sweet about knowing you are going back to a place you loved. This fall break, after flirting with other locals, we settled on a return visit to Yerevan, Armenia. Readers may recall details from our previous trip last October

This time we settled into a familiar routine. Wake up. Donne our hoodies (after living in the desert it feels nice to be a bit chilly) and raincoats. Walk to breakfast. Meander down some side streets. Stop for coffee. Meander some more. Head back to the hotel for a nap. Hit the streets again for dinner and street food. The best part about revisiting a city you’ve experienced previously, is that you don’t feel any pressure to hurry up and “see all the sights” because you already have.  

In the spirit of “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” we booked again at the wonderful Phoenix Boutique Hotel, one block from a corner store, one block from the 24/7 Shawarma & Chicken joint, and 3 blocks from the best wine bar in the city, In Vino.

We popped by our favorite tour company One Way Tours, and selected a half-day trip “Garni, Geghard, Arch of Charents, and Symphony of Stones.” Although it poured rain most of the day, and the view of Mount Ararat was obscured by low clouds, we were not detoured and frankly, we enjoyed the respite from the (post-summer yet still not pleasant temps in  Abu Dhabi. 

Twenty-something Hope and Nate would've told you “if you've seen one monastery, you've seen em all.” In our 40s the historical weight of a 2nd century place of worship is beyond description. At one point, we thought someone was piping in choral tunes (and thought ,”boy, that's cheesy”), but as we turned the corner we saw the four person chorale. In. Real. Life. 

At another point, our guide nonchalantly noted that much of the church was built by carving out solid basalt rock. Yes, you read that correctly.

If that wasn’t enough, the story of Garni Temple is equally epic. A nod to pre-Christian Armenia and designed in that Hellenistic style we often associate with the Parthenon, this pagan temple has seen some things. At one point, Christians decided to build a multi-story church–bigger and better than this temple. However, when a massive earthquake hit, only one of the structures really survived and the locals stole the construction stones from the church.

To close out the tour, we ended at the Symphony of Stones. Despite the pouring rain (we’re Washingtonians), we walked down a huge ravine ensconced by basalt columns. It was like walking inside a giant pipe organ. 

Shortly after this, we dipped into a family restaurant, where 70 year olds were making Lavash. Arguably a cross between pita and a tortilla, this ancient bread is traditionally made in literally 900 degree below ground ovens. This woman has been making bread since she was SEVENTEEN. Her hands are like cinder blocks.

One surprise of this trip was the number of dogs we saw. That’s right. Armenian street dogs. Here’s a photomontage for all you dog lovers out there.

One evening, we woke up a little later than usual from our nap and decided to try out a restaurant we’d passed by a few times by Martiros Saryan Park . We walked gingerly down the stairs, past a cloud of smoking old men who nodded and continued reminiscing about the old days. Immediately greeted by a giant stuffed bear (see picture), the sound of piano music, and an intoxicating aroma, we knew we’d found our spot for the night. Tables were filled with plates brimming with meats, dumplings, salads, and lots and lots of lavash. Beyond the menus, there wasn’t much going on in English, but that didn’t deter us from ordering Georgian garlic chicken, beef soup, and a few other delectable dishes.


One new thing we did this year was dig into soups. You read that correctly, soups.  “No one ever got fat eating soup” Nate declared one evening. So we decided to test his theory and are now working our way through recipes from The Armenian Kitchen.

On the way home we were joking about coming back next fall break. Yerevan is a special place.

Cornering the Caucasus: Yerevan

City Center, Yerevan

The crisp fall air hit our faces as we stepped outside the airport and bulky men with cigarettes precariously pinched between their lips offered “taxi?” 

Yerevan in October is picturesque–reminiscent of any bustling city in the throes of the fall season. Red, orange, and yellow leaves dot the sidewalks. Couples laughing over wine or brandy at a local cafe. Tourists wide-eyed, trying to read signs in Armenian and English. Bakeries, hookah bars, and shaurma shops (yes, the spelling is different) line the street inviting you to take a moment for yourself. 

One of our favorite things to do in a new city is just walk. We let “the spirit lead” the way as we turn down narrow alleyways, stop for an espresso, or decide to pause at a beautiful church. 

The City

While Yerevan feels like so many cities we’ve traveled to, it also has its own beat. One distinguishing element is the towering and magnificent Mount Ararat in the background. We could never actually capture this on camera but often found ourselves staring at it. Another aspect is the undercurrent of a complex history informing the daily lives of people today as Nate noted in his blog post.

Nate thinks she looks like my grandma…

The Blue Mosque (image to the right) is the only mosque remaining in all of Armenia, serving as a place of worship, a museum, and a language center. A lovely Armenian woman originally from Iran gave us a short tour of the grounds, leaving us with stories of the past and a tour of her classroom where she teaches Russian!

A trip to Yerevan would be incomplete without a visit to the Armenian Genocide Memorial & Museum. Obviously as educators, we prioritize learning about a country’s history–even the tough parts. As awful and heartbreaking as the experience always is, we are forced to see humanity's most cruel moments and consider how we might live today with more empathy and kindness to those that are different from ourselves. It’s also a reminder why telling a group of people to “get over it” when it comes to such atrocities is ridiculous. Be it about slavery, the Holocaust, the Armenian Genocide, or what’s happening in Gaza today, pain and trauma is deeply rooted in a community and it takes immense effort to take steps towards healing. 

Day Trips to the Countryside

As we age, we find ourselves succumbing to local tours. In the old days, we’d hop on public transportation, gesture our way through a bus station terminal or haul our backpacks on a train. I’m not above that by any means and don’t get me started on my favorite places in the world and their beautiful metro systems (Mexico City, I see you. Hong Kong, I have not forgotten).

Adding complexity is that some places we travel would be too stressful to try to drive through. The Armenian countryside proved to be such. As we dodged cows, followed detours through villages, we appreciated our driver, Edgar’s adept ability to maneuver the minivan as we focused on Nina’s tour.

First stop Sevanavank monastery overlooking Sevan Lake.

A quick stop for lunch at a popping side-of-the-road cafeteria, the Tsovagyugh supermarket and food court. Note the lavash is easily the size of a throw-blanket!

Next up Goshavank monestary built in the 10th-13th centuries. Words cannot describe the serenity and wonder I felt standing on these grounds, imagining this as the hub of community it provided.

We continued our journey to the Haghartsin monastery. The way this church was situated in the orange and yellow hillside was breathtaking and reminiscent of New England falls. Funny enough, the monastery underwent key renovation thanks to the generosity of a Sheikh from the UAE!

Our excursion culminated in a stop at Dilijan National Park. Hugging our jackets tightly, we followed the trail and stomped through the wet leaves feeling right at home (Pacific Northwest).

Views from Dilijan National Park

 

Family House, Yerevan

 

This concludes our trek through the Caucasus.

The call of khinkali will bring us back to this region but for now, we turn our sights to the next adventure.