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As a child, I read a collection of short stories written by Armani writers. There are many places in Kolkata where their memories are - Armenian Church, Ishqul, Samadhi. Writing about them is not less even today. They are a mysterious nation. On the other hand, the relations between Armenia and Azerbaijan are like India and Pakistan. In general, it is better to look at Georgia and those two countries together. Roads are affordable. However, due to an undeclared coldness about India and Georgia and the fear of harassment of many Indian (and Pakistani) tourists traveling on online visas, he had to abandon the plan. I entered Armenia by land via Iran. Armenia has no diplomatic relations with Azerbaijan and Turkey. Not with our neighbor Pakistan. Despite being a neighbor, Azerbaijan and Turkey have closed their borders with Armenia. There is not even any air communication with Azerbaijan.
Whatever it was, it was the last afternoon to leave Tabriz for the Jalfa border. After sitting on the bus for about a quarter of an hour, I finally took shelter in a taxi. I sat down to bargain. Then for a long time the car has been running in the Dhu Dhu desert. Companions are also changing. Passed the check post several times. Then the car drove along the hilly border. Eventually it reached a border town and again took a car to the border. Some, I changed the Iranian money and crossed the gate in trouble. Lots of roads, lots of tankers, trucks running. Finding a lot of immigration houses, I came out easily with a message. Without impressions. Then lots of walking. Men, women, old people, children of different ages with me. Something is going on. Many are coming back. Big bags, trolleys in everyone's hands. Finally standing in line to reach the Armenian immigration office. I see a crowd of Iranian people. Tiny Border Post. Getting without too soon. Seeing me for a long time. Not satisfied with the e-visa paper. The seating is separate. One or two people came and went to see. Then a blonde-haired "chunky" soldier with a blonde hair came and started asking me questions in fairly polite English. He smiled a lot. Society, religion, politics - all those questions are not on his head. Also quite prickly. After sitting for a while longer, I finally got rid of it.
I came out and saw an Oz Paragaon. At half past nine in the night, everything was closed. SIM - Mobile store, it's M, almost everything. Only petrol pumps and bars are open. The Iranians have almost disappeared into the air by then! I try to go in various ways, whatever the vehicle, everyone demands unusual money. The whole own country !! Roaming net service is also weak. One person was found after paying a lot of money. On the way across the border, a droplet dropped me off at a nearby town. Greatly arranged hilly area. Karsiang Gocher. However, it seemed poorer than in Iran. A combination of a few department stores, bars, car repair shops, various grocery stores, everyday items, vending machines, etc. I entered a bar and ate local fresh pizza, national and local food. Then I stood at the corner of the road begging people to deliver me. Although less than the border, the price is quite high here. The price that a tanker driver offered to sit in the seat next to him was eye-catching. There are many questions about nationality, religion, etc. and at the end no one has a house (maybe a tiny beard with eyebrows?)! Meanwhile, it is getting cold in the mountains.
It was a very old Soviet car. And old tobacco. He left some things in a half-ruined house on the outskirts of the city and entered a petrol pump. He is a scene. Just a prehistoric, a combination of vintage cars. The station and a large tin hut are special. My driver then calmed them down by saying “Indu Indu”! Then he left the highway and followed a hilly path. About three hours. Half way broken, mud, stone. There is no settlement. Sometimes army vehicles are going in two or four. I reached Tateve.
Quite a fort-like religious monument. Complete with Armenian features. Many western tourists have come. Many people trek properly! It's quite fair. Grandmothers with handkerchiefs on their heads are selling all the wonderful food. There are many other temporary shops. There is no entrance fee. I entered in ecstasy. The old man is playing the flute in the square, walking around with the horse-drawn horse in the hope of the customer. I crossed the square and saw that some repair work was already underway. Black stone monument. Large. Many rooms. Worship is happening again. Black-bearded priests are present. Above the bell room. The only way to get out and go down to the main road is to catch a glass box. I hear an Israeli old man talking very excitedly.
Poor thing misunderstood. The requirement to return at the specified time was not stated on the return ticket on behalf of the travel agency. The rent is also quite heavy. This is the famous "Tatev's Wings"! The crowd in the glass box. With the narration. At the end of the half an hour journey, I came down and saw Huhu Hawa in the afternoon. This time I saw an old Soviet brand car and drove to a nearby town. The road is good here. The city is very beautiful. Great building. Occasionally there is a ditch, with small sacks on it. A homemade (price though premium) restaurant is a snack. Very very good cooking. Made with time. Now their question to me- am I Iranian? Yoga to be happy to hear the eight! Then the grief began. There was no way to reach the capital even after searching and asking a lot. And if anyone agrees to reduce their hub feeling does not seem to benefit. Tip tip rain again. I had to go. From here you can go to Nagarno Karabakh. You can go even if you want. But, I have already decided that there is no point in going to such a troublesome place. The end of many days of hobbies.
To find a hotel (actually a guest house) Jutal. The outside is quite spectacular. Malik is actually a once famous army officer and bureaucrat. He has visited many countries at one time. Excessive tobacco and surasik. Foreign language proficiency is quite good. He invited me to a conversation with a little drink. I asked him for a car in the morning and went home, of course with thanks. A half-brown gentleman from the next room came and added a little hoax. Although the two countries do not maintain diplomatic relations, visas from third countries match.
The next morning I left and reached the city of Yerevan. I was looking for a place in the city center. I targeted the guest house of a man with a Punjabi title out of curiosity. It is very high up in a multi-storey apartment building. After waiting for some time at the lower gate, I opened the entrance and reached the top. That other shaky elevator. It draws attention to many advertisements, especially pet services. The gentleman is a Sikh by birth who shaves his head and beard. His mother is half Bengali. He lived in a very famous West Indian city. His wife is well educated and hardworking. He had been in Turkey for some time before that. Permanent residence permit did not match. Probably due to the embarrassment of returning to the country. I came out of the house. The city's main, a great tourist kiosk / home-decorated ladies at Biplob Square are having a lot of hands-outs. I read later that Mrs. Kadarshian had already arrived with her children. With the help of my app and the minimal Russian language involved in my childhood memories, I easily booked a cab and went to the ancient "Geghard" monastery. From there a lot of jhakki jhaki (the wreckage of that local car) to the ancient "Garni" temple. A lot of Greek style. There was a seat of the god named Mithra.
A little further on the car drove me down to the head of an inn / paan shala cum motel. He also agreed to stand for some time. Pretty sociable. Nagarno is his home in Karabakh. Regularly invited. Everyone in the inn is very friendly. Laughing. But he just doesn't know English. However, he refused to go to the monument with a hint of size. After walking a little, I reached the monument in the light and darkness. A healthy (fat) gentleman blocked my way and started asking who am I? What identity? Why did I come? Pakistani, Bangladeshi, .. Stop a little, or Indian? He showed me his green identity card and started looking at my passport.
It was understood that he was an officer of the Russian army stationed in Armenia. And near the Turkish border, "no more" 10 km! He wonders why I came this "midnight"! The phone call does not stop again and again. I went ahead and took a picture of the pair of tiger monuments in the dim light. Anyway, knowing where I got up, etc., he reached the highway at the bottom of the hill, reassured. I saw the officer on duty drinking a lot. Until the time of driving. Inio offered a sip. For the sake of the alliance of the allied country. He also helped to catch the cab. I came back to the city.
Visit the Armenian Genocide Monument the next morning. Huge. Other architectural masterpieces. Not far from there, drive (about 60 km) to visit the "other" type of religious monument. A lonely hill in a dhoo dhoo field. Downstairs, there are a lot of interesting graves all around. This fort or church was once the temple of a god. Going down the stairs to Kujo, I entered an old cross and kept a book. At night, I returned to the city and saw the lighted Armenian statue on the top of the hill. I saw many people (including children) giving flowers and lamps even at night. I don't remember visiting a few more churches, parliaments, national theaters, puppet theaters, markets, more….
I burned in a few places. The names of the places are Harghastin, Gosvanak, the pronunciation of the other is more toothless. Hare has an average exterior almost one look. The beauty of nature is incomparable. Some of them are quite fair. The place is very beautiful. However, the old man could not stand the rush. In some places I saw well-dressed teenage shepherds, and somewhere my grandfather / grandmother was driving away the sweet-looking Rhyme cows and sheep.
This is followed by Armenia's "Switzerland" Dilijan. Decorated old town, museums, old shops, wood carvings, monuments, architecture, nature all have to be said. In one era it was an island. The end of winter is rare. In the summer I heard a huge crowd gather on the lake's waters, on the cool "beach". Even foreigners. The place to stay is also quite. From the window the vast expanse of the lake is almost in the palm of the hand. The next day the turn to return to the capital. And the flight.
The whole thing is written over a period of several days / months. Somewhat out of place so in place. However, the country is not bad at all. Semi-cheap except airfare. Car rental through the app is affordable, especially for medium and long distances. Not all stability or assurance is at all. However, public transport is almost non-existent. The metro of the capital is very small. The maintenance of the cities is not proper. The number of young women is less. Many of them are immigrants. The food is really outstanding.
Armenia hiking, winter skiing, ideal for healthy bathing, at affordable prices. And the kingdom of Sura. However, not everyone can afford to travel alone. And last but not least, change your meaning before entering the airport. Otherwise, you will not find anything in the duty free market except a lot of high quality cheap wines. Or you have to buy some of the same daily necessities at many times the price of the country. I still have some cash. I hope that one day if they go to the Soviet country again, they will get better.