Days: 547 (24 December 2015)

Total distance travelled: 137,658.4 kilometres (85,502.12 miles)

We might have been gifted with plenty of sun this winter in the Caucasus, but that did not mean it wasn’t bloody freezing.

That aforementioned sun was merely a portent of things to come, as the early Yerevan hour meant it had so far warmed little, and it was still likely below zero on the mercury!

Still quite the shock to these two Australians as we sought a local bus that would take us closer to the fringes of the city, where we’d seek a mashrutka to take us even further.

It was on a fairly major road we’d been sat down, and on the opposite side of this busy thoroughfare sat our goal, the Masiv Market (Masiv by name, but not massive in reality), as it was from here we’d be able to get a ride on to Garni and possibly Geghard.

First of course, we’d not forgive ourselves for not having at least a little explore of the market, which really took no time at all.

Perhaps most surprisingly was to see tropical bananas on sale, seemingly snubbing its nose at our snow covered surrounds.

Even more surprisingly (to us at least), was to see the bunches all priced differently, based on their age (think level of browning).

I can only assume nobody’s ever taught them that it’s the blacker the better when it comes to making a banana cake!

Mindful not to look the gift horse that this lovely weather was in the mouth, we located a bus headed towards Garni, and settle in to wait, biding our time until the driver deemed there to be sufficient enough numbers (just like Latin America) before departing.

We passed the time watching huge fish being poured from large barrels into an even larger tank perched on the back of a truck, with the occasional one being traded for small wads of cash with the odd customer.

With the time of year what it was, several barrels did require the thin layer of ice atop to be shattered so the aforementioned pouring could commence.

Some time after this, our local observations ceased as our bus was apparently full enough that we could get underway.

The only way was up… okay, so it likely wasn’t, but it certainly did seem that we climbed as we left the city, as we made the relatively short journey to Garni.

Rather than take us into town, the main road skirted it, so we took our leave and wandered in the general direction we hoped would see us to our ultimate goal.

The streets were quiet, the road a smooth, frozen mix of ice, mud and patches of bitumen, those homes that had guttering featuring stalactites rather than flowing water.

With the size of the place, it was a short, pleasant enough walk before we’d found it, the temple of Garni, the most eastern Greco-Roman temple (although it was built to worship pagan gods) in the world.

From what I’d read, as recently as fifty or so years ago it had been a jumble of ruins, however back in the Soviet days it had been efficiently restored and now stood as one of the countries principle tourist sights… not that the few others we noted about suggested anything such!

Where the ground wasn’t frozen and bare, it was littered with snow, so we crunched our way onwards with incredibly blue skies above and sucking frozen, fresh air into our lungs.

Not one of us is a smoker, but with our cloudy exhalations you’d have been forgiven for thinking otherwise (after all, there can’t be more than a handful of non smokers in this part of the world anyway, at least based on our observations)!

As impressive as the silhouette that was Garni Temple was (at least from the position of the sun when we arrived, it did require a squint to see), the basalt column lined valley to our left (actually, the temple sits on a promontory that juts out above the valley, but we didn’t realise this yet) was equally, if not more appealing.

Within the reconstructed temple itself, there wasn’t all that much to see besides some more of the fascinating Armenian script (similar to, but not quite as elegant looking as that of its neighbours, Georgia), so after checking out the severely damaged mosaic in a nearby building, it wasn’t long before we were back enjoying those valley views.

With little more to see, we had no need to linger much longer, especially as we had a second destination in mind, had decided to walk to it, and it was roughly ten kilometres distant.

Road traffic was essentially non existent, so it quickly became just us and the road (well us, the road, beautiful sunshine and amazing views). We could have waited who knows how long for an irregular bus service, but we weren’t that far away on a glorious day.

We wound our way through small clusters of houses, snow covered fields suggesting crops grew here during the warmer months, whilst barren fruit trees stood like skeletons along the roadside.

People, we saw so few we’d not have needed even a hand upon which to count them all.

Eventually even the clustered communities were left behind, and but for the occasional (often odd) monument, usually crumbling and/or rusting, it was just us, the road and some sumptuous views to our right, as by now the road was hugging the heights, high above the valley.

Unsure how far we had to travel, when a local man in a dented, rusted car pulled up along side us and casually gestured for us to get in, we though why not… although once aboard we began to contemplate how much this sudden decision might cost us.

A few corners and small switchback later, and we were finally at out goal.

Before us lay the complex that is Geghard Monastery.

It also turned out our fears were unfounded. No money was exchanged, perhaps even he not hard enough to charge us for the several hundred metres on foot he saved us!

A real mish-mash of freestanding structures, and others hollowed from the very mountainside, it (the monastery before us) was both beautiful, and when within, extremely cold.

Its weathered facade and often rough interiors bearing testament to the harsh climate in this remote part of the world.

Whether this place remains fully functioning, we couldn’t tell, but the appearance of the occasional black robed figure (if you’re thinking bearded as well, you’d not be wrong) suggested it was still operating in some capacity.

Inside, it was dark. Other than a little natural light and some scattered candles in the main cathedral, there was nothing to illuminate the place, making the shadows deeper and every dusty beam of light stand out like a beacon.

At times it was like exploring a ruin, such was the nature of the floor on which we trod, and that dome/steeple we could see from the exterior view, well inside it was like none of the grandiose, beautifully painted ceilings we’d become so accustomed to seeing.

Instead, like everything else here, this was bare stone, as cold as the rest of our surrounds, but incredibly appealing in its difference.

It just felt old (apparently this main chapel was built around the year 1215, but the older areas had been in use since around the fourth century).

Those older areas, they were next on our hit list, so it required some discovering as we explored the stone terraces and their frozen fountains fed from a nearby mountain stream.

As if to make us feel like we were really a part of some Indiana Jones style experience, the original areas of worship were in fact all ancient caves, apparently famed for their acoustics (although no such aid could improve my singing ability).

To stand inside a structure that was so ornate, so old, and had been carved out of the solid stone all around us… now that was impressive.

A couple of old, slightly rusted (like most things in this small country in the Caucasus) cars that may or may not have been taxis, but were certainly trying to operate as such, offered their services to ferry us back to Garni, but we were perfectly content to walk the distance, truly enjoying the mountain setting in which we found ourselves on this lovely (I know I keep harping on about this, but we seriously had amazing December weather) winters day.

The kilometres ticked by, and somewhere near where the ‘main’ road skirted Garni on its way beyond (the monastery had most definitely been the end of the road from the direction we’d come) we found the kind of vehicle we sought, a mashrutka  that could take us back to the capital.

As is their way, nothing ever leaves immediately, but eventually with a crunching of gears it pull away from the icy verge on which it perched, and we were on our way back to Yerevan.

 

Notes:

* A local bus to the Masiv Market (from where transportation departs for Garni) from downtown Yerevan cost us 100 Dram per person, each way.

* A bus from the Masiv Market to Garni will set you back 250 Dram per person, one way.

* There is a 1,000 Dram entrance fee for the Garni Temple.