After a year of living in Turkey, exiting Yerevan airport was like stepping back in time. Rows and rows of concrete blocks and taxi drivers flashing sets of golden teeth reminded me that I was back on familiar ground; a former Soviet republic.
I fought my way through the scrum of drivers at the main door, each competing for my money, I got myself a bit of breathing room and asked "how much?" A volley of Russian came flying my way, hands tugged at my arms and backpack... it was like being back in Kyrgyzstan! After laughing off quotes of $40, I managed to find a driver willing to do the fare for $12; still a couple of dollars too much, but it was 6.30am and I needed to find my Couchsurfing host and get some sleep.
However, it would prove to be not so simpe. My taxi driver insisted upon taking me to his house for coffee and a chat and a polite "nyet" was out of the question. At home, the man woke his family up to introduce me to them and made me some very strong Armenia coffee. I had tried to tell him that I didn't like coffee, that tea would be better, but he waved off my protestations and told me that I hadn't tried the good Armenian stuff yet. To be honest, coffee is coffee as far as I'm concerned, but I managed to swallow it so as not to offend my host. After a brief chat, the driver finally decided I could go to my destination.
Before I left Istanbul, I had arranged to stay with Thaer, a Syrian Couchsurfer, who had just finished 7 years of medical school in Armenia. Like all good hosts, he knew straight away that I needed a little nap and had his couch all ready for me. Because of the coffee it took longer than I had thought to drift asleep, but I got there in the end.
After going for some lunch with Thaer and his friends, I went for a little walk around the city. Although the outskirts had been filled with Soviet era buildings and the general run-down feel of such places, I was surprised to find that central Yerevan was actually fairly modern and European. You couldn't turn your head without spying a trendy cafe or boutique and every girl seemed to be dressed stylishly. A curious thing was pointed out to me by Thaer in that I would never see a guy in Armenia dress in shorts as it was seen to be effeminate, even considering the sweltering heat! I'm not sure if that was the real reason, but I have to admit that I didn't see a singe guy over the age of 15 or 16 wearing shorts!
Maria, an Armenian friend of Thaer, guided me around a few places and gave me a little recent history about the country. One of the places she showed me was a fairly flashy shopping street with modern apartments above. Apparently, the apartments were more than half empty, the result of Armenia's rush to embrace capitalism and modernity, but highlighting its failure to raise the standard of living for its people at the same rate; locals just couldn't afford to buy or rent the places. The whole project has left a bitter taste in many people's mouths as they had fought and lost a bitter campaign to stop the construction, as the shops and apartments would be built on the land that was already occupied. Families who had lived there for years, had been turfed out to make way for progress. Just like most of the other CIS nations, many Armenians still live desperately poor lives. Short term fixes without long-term benefits; I really was back in the former USSR.
Wednesday, 30 June 2010
Saturday, 26 June 2010
Leaving On A Jet Plane
Up until last week, I had travelled by plane 15 times. I don't know whether that seems a lot or not to anyone else, but to me it's suprisingly low. I have done my fair share of travelling over the years, so to have only travelled on 15 planes left me feeling like I'd got my maths wrong the other day while I was thinking about such matters. I guess the main reason for this, is that I prefer to tavel overland as I feel you get to see so much more of the country.
Another smaller reason, is that I have always considered flying to be a bit special; the sort of thing you don't do often, but as a treat. There is just something so awe-inspiring about getting on a plane and flying high to some exotic destination. I'm always a little disappointed when I land and find there isn't a brass band waiting to welcome you. Afterall, you have just been 'flying!' Maybe it's because of the scarcity of flight in my travels that I still find it hard to believe at times that I am in the sky, flying! OK, so not actually flying myself, but you get the point. This is an incredible thing, to be 'soaring' through the air, above the clouds and all other creatures on the planet. Whenever I look out of the window I feel I have a giant Google Earth map. I admit it, flying in a plane gives me a child-like appreciation that I miss travelling on other modes of transportation. It also scares the hell out of me!
How can anyone not be terrified while they are in the air. It's not natural to be that high up without some earth beneath our feet. I tense up whenever the plane hits some turbulance and pretend to read or listen to some music until it's finished. It's not a fear that would ever make me think twice about flying, though. I get too much of a kick out of it for that to happen. Flying in a plane, however, is both the most incredible and stupid thing a person can do if you ever stop to think about it! I'm sure this 'fear' will go away the more I fly, but then I would lose that wide-eyed amazement too.
Despite the 'horror' that I experience every time I fly, I would much rather be on the plane than stuck in an airport. Last week, between flights number 16 (Istanbul to Riga) and 17 (Riga to Yerevan), I suffered what most people with connecting flights usually go through; hours and hours of mind-numbing tedium. Having 6 hours to kill in the 'transfer centre' with no money (they didn't accept dollars and I wasn't about to change over any money at the rate they were charging!) and 5 seats to cater for about a thousand people is not my idea of relaxation. Fortunately, I had eaten before boarding the plane in Istanbul otherwise a case of cannabalism may have been reported in Latvia!
The good news is that it at least gave me much needed practice before I repeat the exercise next month in Doha on my way to Vietnam. Good times...
Another smaller reason, is that I have always considered flying to be a bit special; the sort of thing you don't do often, but as a treat. There is just something so awe-inspiring about getting on a plane and flying high to some exotic destination. I'm always a little disappointed when I land and find there isn't a brass band waiting to welcome you. Afterall, you have just been 'flying!' Maybe it's because of the scarcity of flight in my travels that I still find it hard to believe at times that I am in the sky, flying! OK, so not actually flying myself, but you get the point. This is an incredible thing, to be 'soaring' through the air, above the clouds and all other creatures on the planet. Whenever I look out of the window I feel I have a giant Google Earth map. I admit it, flying in a plane gives me a child-like appreciation that I miss travelling on other modes of transportation. It also scares the hell out of me!
How can anyone not be terrified while they are in the air. It's not natural to be that high up without some earth beneath our feet. I tense up whenever the plane hits some turbulance and pretend to read or listen to some music until it's finished. It's not a fear that would ever make me think twice about flying, though. I get too much of a kick out of it for that to happen. Flying in a plane, however, is both the most incredible and stupid thing a person can do if you ever stop to think about it! I'm sure this 'fear' will go away the more I fly, but then I would lose that wide-eyed amazement too.
Despite the 'horror' that I experience every time I fly, I would much rather be on the plane than stuck in an airport. Last week, between flights number 16 (Istanbul to Riga) and 17 (Riga to Yerevan), I suffered what most people with connecting flights usually go through; hours and hours of mind-numbing tedium. Having 6 hours to kill in the 'transfer centre' with no money (they didn't accept dollars and I wasn't about to change over any money at the rate they were charging!) and 5 seats to cater for about a thousand people is not my idea of relaxation. Fortunately, I had eaten before boarding the plane in Istanbul otherwise a case of cannabalism may have been reported in Latvia!
The good news is that it at least gave me much needed practice before I repeat the exercise next month in Doha on my way to Vietnam. Good times...
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