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Published: September 12th 2023
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Day 7 Over the hills and far away
We’re driving to Goris today, 4 hours away from the bright lights of Yerevan.
We honour certain rituals: the last flush of the gurgling toilet; the push of the lift button in anticipation of the dragon’s breath hiss of the door as it slides open (with close monitoring of the gap); the emergence into Charles Azenavour Square with film stars names in the paving in front of the Moscow Cinema.
And a last breakfast at Baguette and Co. where we notice that Charles has visited this very place.
Our car, an automatic Dacia Logan, is ready and in good nick. We follow the orbital route around and out of town without raised voices or contact with any other car, and in half an hour we’re trundling through a semi urban sprawl of roadside businesses, greenhouses, scrub and tarmac.
The sat nav advises us to turn left off the dual carriageways to drive up a hill.......... which we duly obey. It’s a slightly more rural version of the same terrain, a bit grim, the impression of gloom largely from the grey weather. At the top
is a dour town full of advertising hoardings with politicians and military men on them. We are entering territory adjacent to Azerbaijan and the entente isn’t cordiale at this moment in time. There is endless water (?) piping the size of toilet waste pipe alongside the road occasionally straddling it to the other side. The mountains are in every direction, quite bare and rocky.
After an hour or so we stop by a stone WC enclosure with a hole in the floor and cess pit below. It’s surprisingly fresh. Relieved, we soon turn left on to a much better road and stop at a place advertising FOOD. The young man in charge points to drink cabinets and tells Marion (for they have embarked upon a bit of banter in Russian) that he has no food and to ‘go over there’. It seems he does not want our trade. But it is good advice. Just off the road a km down the way is Elpin. We stop at a shop. A fine woman is in charge who is keen to chat. She tells us we must sit down and takes us in to the storeroom where two armchairs
are waiting. She brings coffee made over a gas ring a traditional long handed small copper pot, two apples and a bowl of sweets. And while we are refreshing ourselves she fishes out a half kilo lump of feta style salty cheese to go with the flat bread we’ve had our eyes on. We also select a sharp knife for our travels and two bottles of Ararat Beer in case we get caught short.
All a snip at around £5.50. We chat about daughters and sons and about the fact that I must be a toy boy Ken to Marion’s Barbie (or something like that). Haystacks, cowpats drying as fuel, friendly shops. This is an oasis.
Then with a wave we set off an enter a whole new world: The Wine Route.
The difference between the two sections of the journey is spectacular. The sun has come out, the road is smooth and wide, there are smart restaurants, holiday villages, and wine tours proposed. It’s much greener and there are vines all around. Picturesque pinnacles of sandstone punctuate the horizon. Pomegranate, peach, apple and pear trees are weighed down with fruit which is
available at numerous roadside stalls. There are watermelons galore, bottles full of oils and juices and some picked yellow vegetable fingers in large jars.
After one hundred kilometres or so the road changes back to a more usual indifferent surface and we start to climb a second time. Near the top, after hairpin bends, there’s a proscenium arch of red and white striped scaffolding with a huge queue of lorries heading northward and soldiers checking papers. From this place onwards there are barracks, military convoys and quaint bulbous vans UAZ 452 (Russian made but old) and a couple of Red Cross vehicles with Genève on their bonnets.
As we descend again there is a reservoir, cows roaming freely by the roadside and it reminds me of Weardale. As we bask in sunshine, in the distance there is a huge bank of cloud over a third ascent. It looks very romantic.
It’s the final 20km into Goris and we have risen into the cloud. All the cars have fog lamps and hazard warning lights on. You can see your hand in front of your face, but only just. As we reach our hotel we
had just started to see more than 50m ahead and the rain continues.
More friendliness from our host and a warm dry room to enjoy.
We dine on rabbit and river fish with spinach and egg, with excellent homemade chips. Armenian wine from north west of Yerevan, Aragatsotn.
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