A crazy Scottsman in an ancient Armenian capital

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At first glance, Kars seems like a hard place to love. It is located in the northeastern corner of Turkey in land that was once controlled by the Russians. Kars still has the feel of a depressing Russian city, with many large concrete buildings that are in various states of demise. There's also trash everywhere. However, there are at least three foreigners who have some affection for Kars: Dan, myself, and Steven, the crazy Scottish guy.

We met Steven on our trip to Ani, the ancient Armenian capital located 45 km west of the present day Turkish-Armenian boarder.

"You're late. You have to ride in the trunk," our driver joked as a middle aged, unshaven Scottsman who emerged from the hotel.

On our ride to Ani it became apparant that Steven had spent a great deal of time in this part of the world and that he knew it very well. It was also apparant that he knew our driver fairly well; the two spent most of the ride discussing local politics. The mainly debated the recent removal of a statue that had stood on the hill above Kars. The statue was built to symbolize peace between the Turks and Armenians, but the prime minister of Turkey had recently visited the site and arranged for the statue to be removed. Steven's opinion was that before its removal it was just an ugly statue that no one particularly liked, but now that it's gone, it has become a political symbol.

When we arrived at Ani, Dan and Steven moved a bit faster than the rest of us and got out ahead of us.

"You need to warn your friend," our driver told us as he saw Dan and Steven walk away, "that man is crazy!"

Apparently Steven has a reputation for doing whatever he wants, regardless of the rules. There, are several off-limits areas in Ani that Steven is known to have visited many times. The driver had just taken Steven out to Ani, yesterday in fact, and Steven had managed to nearly get himself stuck in a nearby cave. I tried shouting to Dan to come back, but it was too late. He was already out of earshot. So I set off to explore Ani with a Korean who we had dinner with the night before.

Visiting Ani was probably the highlight of my travels around Turkey. The place is almost indescribable. The country between Kars and Ani is beautiful. Watcing the rolling green hills covered with colorful wildflowers made the drive go by quickly. Then, suddenly, the giant stone walls rise of the ancient city appear out of the grass. Once you enter the walls, the grassy plain continues for about 1,000 meters or so to the edge of a canyon. The river at the bottom of the canyon forms the present day boarder between Turkey and Armenia. Being situated on top of a canyon must have made the city easier to defend. Looking down into the canyon we could see the remains of a single bridge. On the other side of the canyon there were several Armenian gaurd towers, keeping a watch for anyone trying to enter the country illeagaly.

A handful of buildings, mostly churches, still stand more or less intact. I found these buildings quite fascinating, as they were unlike anything I have seen before. They had an "earthy" look to them, as they were built out of brown and red brick and had grass growing on the roof. The buildings seemed to have many sharp edges and smooth curves at the same time. This geometric pattern gave them a powerful look. They were like the ghosts of great kings. Once they were important meeting places in a city of 100,000, now they sit in a quiet field and are occupied by cattle.

After a couple of hours, we ran into Dan. He was alone.

"I touched the river!" Dan boasted.

"You touched the river?" I was shocked. Going down into the canyon was certainly one of the off-limits areas. "Did the Armenian guards get mad at you?"

"Oh, there's no one in those towers. Steven brough binoculars so he could check to see if there's any one up there. And even if there were, they just blow a whistle at you if you try and cross the river."

"If you try and cross the river??"

"Yeah, Steven says that in October when the water's lower, you can just swim across. If there's guards and they see you they just blow a whistle at you until you turn around."

I'm fairly certain that the only way Steven could know this is from experience.

Dan and Steven had parted ways when Steven decided to vist the fortress, another forbidden area. When it was time to meet to go back to Kars, Steven was not there. Our driver did not seem the least bit surprised. So, Dan, the Korean, and I had lunch in the shade of the city walls while we waited for our crazy Scottish friend.

It's easy to explain the appeal of Ani, but difficult to explain the appeal of Kars. But there is something appealing about Kars, something that keeps Steven comming back year after year. I actually felt comfortable walking around the streets of Kars. I knew that I stuck out as a foreigner, in a city that sees few North American/European visitors, but the people in Kars seemed accepting. Almost everywhere we went in Kars we were greeted warmly. Maybe I like Kars because Turkey's east has a similar feel to America's west. I can't put my finger on what it is exactly. Like Montana, Kars seems to be in a corner of the coutry, far away from the capital, that most people in other parts of the country know and care little about (when we tried to buy train tickets to Kars in central Turkey people seemed to have to think for a while about where Kars was). Maybe it's the beautiful, flower-covered landscape that surrounds the city. All I know is that as our bus pulled out of Kars for the Kackar mountains, I felt slightly sad to be leaving. I wish the city of Kars and our crazy Scottish friend well.

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