Garni, Geghard and Lake Sevan

Friday (9 November) was the day of our second tour of three in Armenia. This one was to be slightly longer than the tour on the Wednesday as we were driving further away from Yerevan, exploring some of the more remote parts of the country. As usual, we arose at around 8am, coming down for the usual breakfast shortly afterwards. We then convened in the hotel lobby for 9am, where we were met with a different guide to the one who had shown us around two days earlier. This one was perhaps more talkative than the first, and soon she was telling us about a whole host of interesting facts about the country as we drove towards our first site – the Temple at Garni.

En route, we stopped off at Ararat Charents Arch, which has a wonderful view overlooking the majestic Mount Ararat. It was a beautifully sunny day, unlike Wednesday, and thus we had an exceptional view of the mountain poking through the early morning mist in the distance. In front of this was arid rolling scrubland, which only made the punctuation by the snowy peak even more dramatic. The arch itself provides quite a nice framing, as it features words belonging to one of Armenia’s most famous poets – Yegnisheh Charents. 

Garni was not too far beyond the Charents Arch, sitting at one end of a rather pleasant modest village. The scenery here, however, is breath-taking as the Temple sits overlooking the deep canyon of the Azat River, which winds its way around the hilltop site on three sides. Basalt columns can be seen plunging into the ground, similar to those at the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland except completely visible from top to bottom. Just observing this phenomenon of nature was humbling, let alone the man-made structures which complemented the natural beauty here so well. Garni was built by King Trdat I in the first century – we know this due to a Greek inscription which now sits at the entrance to the site - and represents a Hellenic-style temple with a dominant staircase and ionic columns upon which a roof with a frieze sits. Statues of lions act as gargoyles to remove water. The Temple was dedicated to the heathen sun-god Mitra and was one of the few pagan temples preserved in the country after its conversion to Christianity in 301 AD. Interestingly, adjacent to the Temple lies the ruins of a former seventh century church, which was not built to withstand the strong earthquakes in the region. Garni was largely destroyed by an earthquake in 1679 but it was faithfully reconstructed in the 1970s, with much of the seventeenth century destruction caused by the removal of the lead-based mortar which was holding the columns up. The restoration makes the building quite fascinating as you can see the discoloured older stone juxtaposed with the unweathered grey blocks which formed part of the preservation. In the grounds of the ruined church, you can still see gravestones lying on the floor of those royalty who died here while there is a badly eroded Cuniform tablet dating from the reign of Argishti I (784-764 BC) which detailed his conquest over these lands at that time. The name Giarniani is used, a proto-name for Garni.

In addition to the Temple and the ruined church, there is also a bathhouse tucked in one corner, over which a rather modern roof has been constructed. It looks a bit like a holiday camp in all honesty but it does protect the Roman mosaic from the elements, which is no bad thing. This was the most valuable structure saved from the royal constructions and you could still see how each room was laid out, with the underground heating system also restored. Here, disc shaped bricks stacked in columns transferred the warm air and smoke from the furnace to the water, with the distance from the furnace denoting the temperature of each room from hot and tepid to cold. The mosaic had a strong anthropomorphic theme, with busts of the Ocean and the Sea depicted – a virile horned man and a good-looking woman with tentacles of crayfish. Centaurs, mermaids, fishermen, fish, dolphins and oysters are all depicted. While all of this was undoubtedly beautiful, it was the scenery here that was the most striking and I spent a good fifteen minutes just looking out at it during our ‘free time’ as our guide called it. Wolfie used some of that time to have a dump. The Temple itself is sat on the promontory and takes a good five minutes to reach from the entrance to the complex. This is quite a pleasant walk in itself as the pathway is lined with pretty flowers.

Our next stop was Geghard Temple, about twenty minutes away. This place is even more remote as it sits at the end of the roadway. As you descend into the valley in which it is situated, you can see it poking out of the sheer rockfaces which surround it as if in defiance of its environment. The scenery is incredibly dramatic and the church itself is carved out of the rock itself. It is situated further up the Azat River Gorge and is named after the holy lance that pierced the side of Christ during the crucifixion. In the thirteenth century, the monastery became a pilgrimage site because of this, and it received great patronage from wealthy royal families in the region. Believed to have been founded in the fourth century, the earliest extant remains date from the twelfth, with most of the chapel being built in the 1200s although it is known that pre-Christians did worship at springs at the site.

As we got out of the car to look at this wonder, we noticed a number of people selling snacks at the side of the road. Certainly something for the tourists, they were all traditional crafts including piping hot circular apple bread, walnuts coated in a range of fruit flavoured jellies and a hard leather made from the aforementioned jelly. The walnuts were quite fresh and I got to try some smothered in cranberry, which wasn’t as strong a flavour as I had been expecting. Still, it made for a tasty snack, even if I didn’t get chance to actually purchase some, instead having to make do with the free samples we were been given. Wolfie was strangely reticent to try anything for some reason.

Leaving the sellers behind, we climbed up the small hill towards the main complex, noting the exquisitely carved khachkars as we went. I believe these were replicas of ones destroyed in the Karabakh War between 1988 and 1994, and so have an additional poignancy. Our guide was incredibly knowledgeable about these and spent a long time discussing them, so much so that a troupe of about twenty schoolchildren paraded past us, which was to make our visit more crowded than I would otherwise have liked. However, we needn’t have worried too much about this as when we wandered through the rather plain archway, the main courtyard was quite bereft of people. This wasn’t the main site though, which was the tiny church set against the sheer rock faces behind it, with a rich blue sky adding a romance to the vista. The fortifications around the Temple, built largely to keep the Mongols out, means the place is quite self-contained and it is here where the monks now live. This is still a working building and we saw a couple of them wandering about, while it was interesting to note that our guide knew pretty much everyone.

We spent about an hour exploring the church, with us starting in the only visible part of the complex – Surp Astvatsatsin. Above the door there is the coat of arms of the Zakarian prince who constructed it between 1215 and 1225, while inside it is a hugely atmospheric building with its nine arches. This place feels incredibly heavy yet also tranquil, with the plain grey walls creating an atmosphere that is perfect for contemplation. On the left-hand side of this are two chapels which were hewn into the rock, with the architecture inside completely breath-taking. The highlight was definitely the basin where the spring water collects, which is then guided along the floor of the church and out of it through a primitive pipe system. The sound of the water echoing in this cavernous space was incredibly evocative, while the numerous khachkars carved out of the grey stone created a very unique space. Some of these were carved into the rock itself while others formed standalone stones for alters and the like. The second chapel contains the four-column burial chamber of Prince Papaq Proshian and his wife, with the family’s coat of arms of two lions chained together with an eagle above them and a bull above that. One for the furries there.

Leaving the church, we climbed upwards to a 10m passageway whose sides were also bedecked with carved khachkars. This led to a thirteenth century burial vault again impressively carved out of the rock. On the columns there was various Armenian script but it was written in an old style, where as many as five letters were combined to create just one character. The word ‘God’ was one such example. From the hill upon which these caves are situated, you can see a cross lain out on the cliff face opposite, a feat that shows real dedication such was the sheer nature of the terrain. Meanwhile, just outside the boundary of the Temple, near a bridge over a stream, there was a collection of thousands of handkerchiefs tied to trees. Believed to grant wishes with the aid of a prayer, you could walk through this motley forest of fabric, which I did think was quite tatty. However, I wasn’t in a great frame of mind as Wolfie and I were arguing about something trivial which put something of a dampener on this part of the visit.

Sevanavank Monestary on the northern fringe of Lake Sevan, which sits at 1900m above sea level and forms 4% of Armenia, was our next destination, with it taking about an hour and a half to reach there. Sevanavank used to be an island but the lake was drained by the Soviets, forcing the water level to recede by 20m, turning this part into a peninsula. This now forms the main beach strip, a selection of tacky souvenir stands and loud music, with the occasional motorboat or two. The lake itself is pristine though, with some of the clearest waters I have ever seen, and the view from the promentory upon which the monestary sits, with the lake in three directions, is divine albeit slightly ruined by an abandoned concrete monstrosity that used to be a hotel in Soviet times. The Monestary is effectively two churches built in the ninth century, Surp Astvatsatsin and Surp Arakelots, with a ruined fourth century church behind them. Built in 874, the churches were heavily restored in the seventeenth century, and both are rather modest yet exquisite in their beauty. These are amongst the most popular tourist sites in the country but it being November meant there were very few people around, affording us as much time as we needed to see everything here. The churches are built out of brick with thick white mortar and red roofs, making them look quite unique for the region and the kachkhars which are littered outside - and indeed form part of the door - are some of the most exquisite we saw during our trip. Both chapels are quite small, but both are still operational, and again there were a number of monks active here. After our trip, we also went down to the waterfront itself, which is where we got to observe the crystal clarity of the water which makes up one of the largest freshwater high-altitude lakes on the planet.

This was meant to be the end of the tour, but I asked the guide whether the driver would be happy to take us to the more hexagonally-shaped Hayravank Monastery, about twenty minutes south along the lake. After she had phoned the hotel and increased payment was agreed, we set off, only to stumble across a wedding once we arrived. We wondered why it was so busy but our fearless guide wasn't going to let this put her off showing us the church, so we just gatecrashed the event to have a look around. The couple ended up taking some pictures overlooking the lake, which was starting to subtely change colour due to the setting sun. Different parts of the lake were also of different hues based on the depth of the water and the vegetation there, and we spent a good fifteen minutes just drinking it all in while talking to our guide about our respective countries. In the distance we also got to see some thin towers from a Soviet power plant while it was interesting to observe that just over the mountains fringing the eastern side of the lake in the direction in which we were looking was the closed border with Azerbaijan.

Once we had seen this, we headed back to Yerevan, a journey of about two hours. En route, we stopped off at a statue of a family unit, the young son carrying a cross to suggest the future of the country is in its youth, while we also saw the aftermath of a car crash which we assumed was fatal considering the crash barrier overlooking a cliff had been destroyed. This made the final journey into Yerevan into something of a sober affair, not aided by the erratic driving of some of our fellow road users (not to mention our own driver who practiced a number of dodgy manoeuvers including undertaking a car on a single lane road at the same time another car was overtaking it).

We hadn’t had anything to eat during the tour aside from a Snickers and a Mars bar from the hotel minibar, along with a packet of lemon flavoured biscuits, so once we returned to Yerevan, we pretty much headed straight out for dinner. Our guide had kindly booked a restaurant at one of her favourite places in the city, Lavash, so we made our way down there for 7:30pm. On our way, we spotted a ranty woman standing in the middle of a pedestrian crossing, surrounded by three police officers who were trying to calm her down. It was to no avail though as we saw the same woman about half an hour later as we were eating our dinner, ranting at any passers-by that caught her fancy. We were sat in the heated pavement section of Lavash, protected by a transparent tarpaulin so we could watch life on one of Yerevan’s busiest streets on a Friday evening. Accompanying our people watching was a collection of excellent local cuisine – aubergine rolls stuffed with sweet peppers, qarahunj (lamb neck with porridge rice, spice and orange) and barbecued champignons. I am not sure why I ordered the final dish, aside from the fact our guide had recommended it, considering I hate mushrooms but the other two were delicious, particularly the qarahunj which was huge. Indeed, we had thought about getting a second main until the waiter told us that this would not be wise. There was definitely far more porridge to lamb, as this was on the bone, but the sweet unctuous rice was definitely filling and ideal for a day of little food. Furthermore, we got to try two Armenian red wines as well, one dry and one slightly sweeter, with both being enjoyable.

After this, we had another wander around Yerevan, seeing the beautiful mosaics of the Megerian Family with its dragon theme before checking out Swan Lake right next to the Opera House. We had missed this on both Tuesday and Wednesday when we explored this area, although there wasn’t all that much to see considering there was no water within it. There was a yappy dog though who enjoyed bouncing in and out of the dry lake, and he was quite fun to observe. After this, we headed back over to Dargett as we had a few beers to try before completing the set. We thought we had had 17 of 20, but I noticed there were 21 taps, suggesting that there was one beer that was not being advertised on the menu. This turned out to be the case – a raspberry sour beer – so we enjoyed this alongside the remaining three we thought we had not drunk.

We could have easily stayed in Dargett but we fancied finding a rock bar so we spent the next hour trailing around the city looking for one. There were a couple advertised on Google and Trip Advisor but when we got to every single one, they were no longer operating. Getting a little frustrated, we decided to head to Stop instead, knowing that they were definitely open as they were advertising a gig that night. This was also a favourite hang out for our guide so we knew it would be a good night, which was enhanced when we saw they were serving Dargett Pilsner on draft, which we couldn’t get at their bar. The house band were playing but by the time we arrived, they were finishing their set. They were playing in the pit bar in the basement, with a wooden walkway providing a 360-degree promontory over this stage. This is how you got to the entrance so we found a table on this top balcony and watched the show. The bar was quite busy but our view was unimpeded, and a lot of the patrons must have been regulars as they were singing heartily to the songs being played. They were a pretty decent rock band all told although getting to the toilet through the stage area was a bit surreal. Sadly, they finished their set about twenty minutes after we arrived and the bar emptied pretty rapidly, so we only stayed here for two drinks before heading back to the hotel. This was a largely uneventful walk apart from nearly being run over on a pedestrian crossing by a speeding driver, but the driving here is mental so in hindsight this came as no surprise. It was good to see the city still had some life at 1am, particularly around Republic Square, but after a long day, we were feeling pretty tired and with plans on Saturday, we opted to head to bed.