Tavush and Lori Provinces
Dec. 5th, 2018 11:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lupestripeOur final day in Armenia, Sunday 11 November, was dominated by the fact we had to get up at 4am the following morning for our flight. This necessitated an early start so after much deliberation, we decided to book a third tour, with the thought being that it would get us out of bed and also tire us out, enabling us to get a reasonably early night. We decided to head up to the Lori region on the advice of Tony, largely because there are two UNESCO World Heritage monastaries up there. Furthermore, we were told that beyond Lake Sevan, the scenery in Armenia changes abruptly, becoming far more mountainous as you emerge from the tunnel connecting the Sevan region with Dilijan and northern Armenia beyond. So it proved to be the case, with the topography changing drastically as we emerged from the three mile tunnel before descending into the town of Dilijan for our first stop of the day. We had been out at 8:30am and had already driven an hour and a half by this point, so a break was very much called for, and the small town of Dilijan certainly sufficed. Billed the 'Switzerland of Armenia', this used to be a peaceful retreat in Soviet times but there are tourist dollars in the skiing here so it's tranquility has been somewhat tainted. It's historic centre is a somewhat tacky spectacle of wooden and stone buildings, with a range of shops catering for tourists. At this time on a Sunday morning in November, hardly anywhere was open and we had the place to ourselves, which was effectively just one cobbled high street tucked behind a main road. The ornate wooden bus stop on that road was perhaps the most exquisite sight, along with the crown-shaped modernist monument that represents the Fiftieth Anniversary of Soviet Armenia, which stands near a roundabout that we had the fortune to drive around.
We only stayed in Dilijan for about fifteen minutes, with little else to see here apart from the aforementioned sights. It was noticeably colder up here than it had been in Yerevan so we were grateful to get back in the car and push on to our first major destination - the nearby Haghartsin Monastery. Built between the tenth and thirteenth centuries in a secluded valley to the northeast of Dilijan, the setting here was perhaps my favourite on the entire trip. As we drove up the winding country road we noticed the concrete remains of an old Soviet cable car, now abandoned to nature, while the complex itself had a unique range of different buildings including a ruined gavit and a refectory with a breathtaking arched ceiling. Tables were still set out here as it's a working monestary and we had the pleasure to observe two of the monks conducting Sunday Mass, which is sung in its entirety and lasts about one hour. Their voices echoing around the bare stone walls of the main church, and being one of only seven in the congregation (four randoms, Wolfie, our guide and me) was an incredibly fulfilling experience and I enjoyed just standing in this beautiful building and being immersed in the experience for a good five to ten minutes. The stunning sunny weather also helped although it did cast a bright white hue on many of the restored buildings, paid for by the Sheikh of Sharjah in the UAE. In one part of the complex lies the graves of Kings Smbat and Gagik, and three princes, all from the Bagratuni Dynasty who founded the monastery. The sundial with the Armenia alpha-numeric symbols was perhaps my favourite architectural highlight alongside the family seal of the three founders on the back of the chapel of St Stepanos, while the burnt out hollow tree, which had been destroyed when someone had placed a candle too close to it, was evocative too, largely because the myth that if you pass through the hole within it your wish would be granted was destroyed as the tree itself was. Walking around this part of the complex, we ended up with a doggo friend who was very pleased to follow us, while on the road heading into the site, we saw two other doggo friends who were very inquisitive to what we were doing. I noticed that there was a geocache on a site overlooking the monastery about a kilometre away but alas we only really got ten minutes of 'free time' meaning we couldn't sneak out there without our guide spotting.
After a pleasant three quarters of an hour in the mountains, we made our way out of Tavush province and into Lori, where we got to see a number of rural communities in a barren-looking valley flanked by stunning snow-capped peaks. Most of these belonged to the Malakhan people, who are of Russian origin and have their own schools and way of life. Indeed, their buildings are also unique and they form one of the more distinct and visible ethnic minorities in the country. Poorer and predominantly farmers, their hospitality is legandary and while we did not get the opportunity to meet anyone, it was a pleasure to stand by the roadside and view their villages in such a wonderful setting.
We had travelled west from Dilijan to get here and turned north at the city of Vanadzor, Armenia's third largest settlement and the industrial heart of the country during Soviet times. Indeed, driving through it, particularly on the eastern fringe, you can see a large number of abandoned factories as there was no commercial need to sustain manufacturing on this scale under the capitalist system. It is quite eerie seeing so many former places of work, all with unique stories to tell, rotting and derelict. It is also quite eerie considering why these were erected in the first place and the theme of derelict industrial units was a constant one as we made our way towards the Georgian border along one of Armenia's main roads - a road that would not pass for a country lane in the UK. They are trying to widen it, and we saw a number of roadworks as we passed, indeed being stopped for ten minutes while a digger loaded a truck with rocks, but even that will be insufficient for the sheer amount of traffic that heads along this route. Indeed it was quite a frustrating drive being caught behind a number of lorries, particularly as we were on quite a tight schedule. As we drove, we saw a number of concrete chutes which ended over the river, which are used to direct boulders away from people and buildings in the event of landslides. It was simple yet clever engineering.
There are two UNESCO World Heritage monasteries in Lori Province and we were aiming to do both, with the first being Sanahin, overlooking the town of Alaverdi. This is an interesting place as it's built on two levels, with the main town being in the river valley and a new Soviet town full of dishevelled apartment blocks perched on the craggy cliffs above. This was built to house workers for the heavy industry in the area, with the two layers being connected by a cable car. To get to the top of the mountain, which is where the monastery is, we took a winding road for about ten minutes, a road which afforded us some of the more breathtaking views of the trip. However, it was here where the juxtaposition between the natural beauty and industry was most stark as the apartments were rather ugly, as was the semi-decomissoned copper smelter to the north. Sanahin Monastery was perhaps the most atmopsheric of the places we visited, and certainly with its dark grey masonry and long hallways, it was the place most like a British cathedral. It's packed with ancient graves, many of them forming the floor of the church itself, while again the columns have a range of Armenian texts upon them. This place felt divine, with the sunlight casting beams through the narrow window, giving it a more heavenly feel. The church is also incredibly old, dating back to 934, although the adjoining gavit wasn't built until 1181. The jewel in the crown here, however, was the large library or scriptorium, which was constructed in 1063 as a valuted and square structure. In its south-eastern corner there is a small church dedicated to St Gregory the Illuminator, while the cemetery climbing up the hill (and where there was some ongoing construction work for some reason) contains a small mausoleum housing the Zakarian princes. This cemetery is still being used by the local people today and the whole complex has an odd mix of feeling in use and not. It was certainly important in its heyday, with Sanahin meaning 'older than that one', referring to Haghpat, the second UNESCO World Heritage monastery we were going to visit.
However, before we got there, we decided to grab some biscuits from the car and eat them in the modest car park. There was a geocache nearby but alas it was a good 500m away from where we were and we couldn't sneak off, but this may have been for the best as time was tight. We did have time though to drop by the Mikoyan Museum as the two Mikoyan brothers, who invented the MiG Fighter, were both born in Sanahin village. Sadly the museum was closed but there is a huge MiG plane right in the courtyard, which afforded many picture opportunities. Alas, we couldn't really get near it, but it was impressive nonetheless.
After this we pished on to Haghpat, which was about fifteen minutes east of Alaverdi. It too has a commanding position over the Debed Gorge, and was definitely in a more similar style to those we had already seen in Armenia. Founded in 966, it grew substantially in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, with Surp Nishan's frescos flanking the altar and appearing on the wall and even on some of the cupolas being added at this time. The appearance of frescos is quite rare in Armenian churches and these were arguably a little primitive, with the lustre clearly having been weathered, but the images of saints and Jesus added a depth to the place that was arguably lacking elsewhere. During this period, the porch was added to the church as was the bell tower (again quite rare in Armenian churches), library and chapter house. We had to hurry looking around this monestary as there was a wedding about to commence, which was a source of some frustrating as the blaring music of a guest who had arrived in a sports car interrupted our two minutes silence at 3pm (and thus 11am in the UK) to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the end of WWII. I tried to explain to the guide that we wanted to hold a silence but she kept talking, so we decided to do it while drinking in the splendor of this monestary as we stood in the car park admiring it as soon as we had arrived. Alas our loud friend interrupted us about two thirds in. A gavit was also built in this time while there were a couple of small twelfth century churches too. There was also a geocache hidden in the grounds, which we managed to nab during our free time. We also managed to go into the chapter house, fearing we couldn't initially due to a choral practice taking place. In the waning sunlight the sound was heavenly and really added to the atmsophere of this magical place.
Our final stop of the tour was another half hour north, very near the Georgian border. This church is more like a fortress, with tenth century fortifications surrounding a grey box-like thirteenth century construction. Aesthetically the church isn't overly pleasing and here the awkward juxtaposition between outstanding natural beauty and the scars of industry was most plain to see as a delapidated factory was looking over at it from the opposite riverbank. Still, the view on this promintory was stunning and what the church lacked in exterior beauty, it more than made up for in its interior. It is one of the few churches in Armenia to retain its original frescos and these have not faded quite as much as those at Haghpat, with the deep blue paint coming through most clearly. The highlight is perhaps the Virgin Mary in the apse, but the depictions of The Last Supper, Last Judgement, Crucifixtion and Ressurection were also striking. Some of the paintwork, particularly towards the roof of the church, has since eroded but the vast majority of these frescos survive. Around the fortifying walls, there were two large caves which were used for smelting copper while there is a small shed-like chapel and a modest graveyard too. Oddly though most of the courtyard is mud, with a good 200m walk between the crumbling entrance gate and the main church itself. There was one woman here, with whom the guide started speaking, and she told us bits and pieces about the church too.
We were four hours drive from Yerevan at this point and with the sun starting to set, we thought it best to head back. The journey was pretty much back the way we came, but at Vanadzor we turned right to head a different way back to the capital, seeing the abandoned heavy industrial plants as we left the city. On the way, we passed through the town of Spitak where an earthquake measuring 6.8 on the Richter Scale hit on 7 December 1988. Between 25,000 and 50,000 people were killed and I wanted to check out the local cemetery to see if there was any record of the event. There is a wooden church, which was built to replace the original stone one that was destroyed, but aside from this, it was just a cemetery, with families being buried together and little to be seen of that day. It was pretty much dark by this point though and we couldn't see much, so we decided to press on back to Yerevan although the red neon cross at the entrance to the graveyard did cut through the night sky quite aptly I thought.
We hadn't had any lunch on this trip so as we passed through the town of Aparan, about an hour from Yerevan, our guide asked us whether we wanted to stop off at a local bakery. Weighing up our options and despite planning going for a meal in the capital, we agreed and it turned out to be one of the greatest decisions we made on the trip. This was a small bakery which had grown into a huge supermarket called Gntuniq, but it was incredibly busy for 7pm on a Sunday and they were still baking bread the traditional way in huge clay ovens, sticking the dough to the sides like we had seen in Georgia. We decided to go for the borek filled with cheese and it was huge, with the crispy pastry complementing the sharp filling perfectly. Indeed, it was one of the finest meals I have had anywhere and after our ten minute pitstop where the four of us (me, Wolfie, our guide and our driver) all ate our borek around a small table, we pressed on back to the capital.
Knowing that we had to get up at 3:45am to catch our flight back to London (then onwards to Milton Keynes to get another Brewdog stamp), we knew we couldn't stay out late but we also knew we needed food. Consequently, we decided to go to the Karas National Food Chain, which was on the opposite diagonal corner of Republic Square to our hotel. As it turned out, our food took over half an hour to come (although to be fair we were warned), with us deciding on khachapuri, a Georgian dish which is also popular in Armenia. Karas is pretty much a basic canteen so our food wasn't the greatest - with the egg being fried rather than raw, which was the case in Georgia - but it was acceptable enough even if the dough was a little chewy and the egg not as creamy as the divine dish we had had in Kutaisi two years previously. Still, it was a nice way to end the day and our trip to Armenia and as we walked through the surprisingly busy Republic Square at 9:30pm on a Sunday evening, we reflected on just how good a trip it had been.
The Monday, 12 November, was unsurprisingly one tainted by tiredness due to our early start, but we did manage to get the flights - first to Kyiv then back to Gatwick - and get to Milton Keynes, where we visited a rather desolate Brewdog bar. We had tried to arrange meeting with Zuki but alas he didn't check his Twitter messages so we weren't there too long, although the lunch proposal probably wasn't viable anyway as we didn't arrive there until around 2:15pm. Upon arrival, I noticed a nearby geocache, which we struggled to find until a kind lady called us from a distance asking us whether this is what we were looking for. She works in one of the local offices and she showed us where it was hidden. We picked up two further geocaches that afternoon, including one which was a bolt cache, while we also nabbed one near Euston Station in London later on. The Brewdog bar staff in MK were interesting and it was great to see one of the Collab Beers we had not yet tried on draft, as well as a couple of special dark beers they had. MK itself was as dull as I feared, with it being a sterile town of offices as far as I could see, but I was incredulous that where we were was actually the centre. There wasn't much there at all. Aside from this, once we had gotten back to London, we had a straightforward meal at Prime Burger at Euston Station before catching our train back north around 7pm. The six hours I had left between our plane landing and the train leaving Kings Cross was perhaps excessive but our Ukrainian experience the week before highlighted the necessity of this, even if in the end we didn't need this insurance. Once we got back to Leeds though, at around 9:30pm, we were both too tired to wait for the bus and so opted for the simplicity of a taxi, which got us back thankfully swiftly after a very busy eight days.
We only stayed in Dilijan for about fifteen minutes, with little else to see here apart from the aforementioned sights. It was noticeably colder up here than it had been in Yerevan so we were grateful to get back in the car and push on to our first major destination - the nearby Haghartsin Monastery. Built between the tenth and thirteenth centuries in a secluded valley to the northeast of Dilijan, the setting here was perhaps my favourite on the entire trip. As we drove up the winding country road we noticed the concrete remains of an old Soviet cable car, now abandoned to nature, while the complex itself had a unique range of different buildings including a ruined gavit and a refectory with a breathtaking arched ceiling. Tables were still set out here as it's a working monestary and we had the pleasure to observe two of the monks conducting Sunday Mass, which is sung in its entirety and lasts about one hour. Their voices echoing around the bare stone walls of the main church, and being one of only seven in the congregation (four randoms, Wolfie, our guide and me) was an incredibly fulfilling experience and I enjoyed just standing in this beautiful building and being immersed in the experience for a good five to ten minutes. The stunning sunny weather also helped although it did cast a bright white hue on many of the restored buildings, paid for by the Sheikh of Sharjah in the UAE. In one part of the complex lies the graves of Kings Smbat and Gagik, and three princes, all from the Bagratuni Dynasty who founded the monastery. The sundial with the Armenia alpha-numeric symbols was perhaps my favourite architectural highlight alongside the family seal of the three founders on the back of the chapel of St Stepanos, while the burnt out hollow tree, which had been destroyed when someone had placed a candle too close to it, was evocative too, largely because the myth that if you pass through the hole within it your wish would be granted was destroyed as the tree itself was. Walking around this part of the complex, we ended up with a doggo friend who was very pleased to follow us, while on the road heading into the site, we saw two other doggo friends who were very inquisitive to what we were doing. I noticed that there was a geocache on a site overlooking the monastery about a kilometre away but alas we only really got ten minutes of 'free time' meaning we couldn't sneak out there without our guide spotting.
After a pleasant three quarters of an hour in the mountains, we made our way out of Tavush province and into Lori, where we got to see a number of rural communities in a barren-looking valley flanked by stunning snow-capped peaks. Most of these belonged to the Malakhan people, who are of Russian origin and have their own schools and way of life. Indeed, their buildings are also unique and they form one of the more distinct and visible ethnic minorities in the country. Poorer and predominantly farmers, their hospitality is legandary and while we did not get the opportunity to meet anyone, it was a pleasure to stand by the roadside and view their villages in such a wonderful setting.
We had travelled west from Dilijan to get here and turned north at the city of Vanadzor, Armenia's third largest settlement and the industrial heart of the country during Soviet times. Indeed, driving through it, particularly on the eastern fringe, you can see a large number of abandoned factories as there was no commercial need to sustain manufacturing on this scale under the capitalist system. It is quite eerie seeing so many former places of work, all with unique stories to tell, rotting and derelict. It is also quite eerie considering why these were erected in the first place and the theme of derelict industrial units was a constant one as we made our way towards the Georgian border along one of Armenia's main roads - a road that would not pass for a country lane in the UK. They are trying to widen it, and we saw a number of roadworks as we passed, indeed being stopped for ten minutes while a digger loaded a truck with rocks, but even that will be insufficient for the sheer amount of traffic that heads along this route. Indeed it was quite a frustrating drive being caught behind a number of lorries, particularly as we were on quite a tight schedule. As we drove, we saw a number of concrete chutes which ended over the river, which are used to direct boulders away from people and buildings in the event of landslides. It was simple yet clever engineering.
There are two UNESCO World Heritage monasteries in Lori Province and we were aiming to do both, with the first being Sanahin, overlooking the town of Alaverdi. This is an interesting place as it's built on two levels, with the main town being in the river valley and a new Soviet town full of dishevelled apartment blocks perched on the craggy cliffs above. This was built to house workers for the heavy industry in the area, with the two layers being connected by a cable car. To get to the top of the mountain, which is where the monastery is, we took a winding road for about ten minutes, a road which afforded us some of the more breathtaking views of the trip. However, it was here where the juxtaposition between the natural beauty and industry was most stark as the apartments were rather ugly, as was the semi-decomissoned copper smelter to the north. Sanahin Monastery was perhaps the most atmopsheric of the places we visited, and certainly with its dark grey masonry and long hallways, it was the place most like a British cathedral. It's packed with ancient graves, many of them forming the floor of the church itself, while again the columns have a range of Armenian texts upon them. This place felt divine, with the sunlight casting beams through the narrow window, giving it a more heavenly feel. The church is also incredibly old, dating back to 934, although the adjoining gavit wasn't built until 1181. The jewel in the crown here, however, was the large library or scriptorium, which was constructed in 1063 as a valuted and square structure. In its south-eastern corner there is a small church dedicated to St Gregory the Illuminator, while the cemetery climbing up the hill (and where there was some ongoing construction work for some reason) contains a small mausoleum housing the Zakarian princes. This cemetery is still being used by the local people today and the whole complex has an odd mix of feeling in use and not. It was certainly important in its heyday, with Sanahin meaning 'older than that one', referring to Haghpat, the second UNESCO World Heritage monastery we were going to visit.
However, before we got there, we decided to grab some biscuits from the car and eat them in the modest car park. There was a geocache nearby but alas it was a good 500m away from where we were and we couldn't sneak off, but this may have been for the best as time was tight. We did have time though to drop by the Mikoyan Museum as the two Mikoyan brothers, who invented the MiG Fighter, were both born in Sanahin village. Sadly the museum was closed but there is a huge MiG plane right in the courtyard, which afforded many picture opportunities. Alas, we couldn't really get near it, but it was impressive nonetheless.
After this we pished on to Haghpat, which was about fifteen minutes east of Alaverdi. It too has a commanding position over the Debed Gorge, and was definitely in a more similar style to those we had already seen in Armenia. Founded in 966, it grew substantially in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, with Surp Nishan's frescos flanking the altar and appearing on the wall and even on some of the cupolas being added at this time. The appearance of frescos is quite rare in Armenian churches and these were arguably a little primitive, with the lustre clearly having been weathered, but the images of saints and Jesus added a depth to the place that was arguably lacking elsewhere. During this period, the porch was added to the church as was the bell tower (again quite rare in Armenian churches), library and chapter house. We had to hurry looking around this monestary as there was a wedding about to commence, which was a source of some frustrating as the blaring music of a guest who had arrived in a sports car interrupted our two minutes silence at 3pm (and thus 11am in the UK) to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the end of WWII. I tried to explain to the guide that we wanted to hold a silence but she kept talking, so we decided to do it while drinking in the splendor of this monestary as we stood in the car park admiring it as soon as we had arrived. Alas our loud friend interrupted us about two thirds in. A gavit was also built in this time while there were a couple of small twelfth century churches too. There was also a geocache hidden in the grounds, which we managed to nab during our free time. We also managed to go into the chapter house, fearing we couldn't initially due to a choral practice taking place. In the waning sunlight the sound was heavenly and really added to the atmsophere of this magical place.
Our final stop of the tour was another half hour north, very near the Georgian border. This church is more like a fortress, with tenth century fortifications surrounding a grey box-like thirteenth century construction. Aesthetically the church isn't overly pleasing and here the awkward juxtaposition between outstanding natural beauty and the scars of industry was most plain to see as a delapidated factory was looking over at it from the opposite riverbank. Still, the view on this promintory was stunning and what the church lacked in exterior beauty, it more than made up for in its interior. It is one of the few churches in Armenia to retain its original frescos and these have not faded quite as much as those at Haghpat, with the deep blue paint coming through most clearly. The highlight is perhaps the Virgin Mary in the apse, but the depictions of The Last Supper, Last Judgement, Crucifixtion and Ressurection were also striking. Some of the paintwork, particularly towards the roof of the church, has since eroded but the vast majority of these frescos survive. Around the fortifying walls, there were two large caves which were used for smelting copper while there is a small shed-like chapel and a modest graveyard too. Oddly though most of the courtyard is mud, with a good 200m walk between the crumbling entrance gate and the main church itself. There was one woman here, with whom the guide started speaking, and she told us bits and pieces about the church too.
We were four hours drive from Yerevan at this point and with the sun starting to set, we thought it best to head back. The journey was pretty much back the way we came, but at Vanadzor we turned right to head a different way back to the capital, seeing the abandoned heavy industrial plants as we left the city. On the way, we passed through the town of Spitak where an earthquake measuring 6.8 on the Richter Scale hit on 7 December 1988. Between 25,000 and 50,000 people were killed and I wanted to check out the local cemetery to see if there was any record of the event. There is a wooden church, which was built to replace the original stone one that was destroyed, but aside from this, it was just a cemetery, with families being buried together and little to be seen of that day. It was pretty much dark by this point though and we couldn't see much, so we decided to press on back to Yerevan although the red neon cross at the entrance to the graveyard did cut through the night sky quite aptly I thought.
We hadn't had any lunch on this trip so as we passed through the town of Aparan, about an hour from Yerevan, our guide asked us whether we wanted to stop off at a local bakery. Weighing up our options and despite planning going for a meal in the capital, we agreed and it turned out to be one of the greatest decisions we made on the trip. This was a small bakery which had grown into a huge supermarket called Gntuniq, but it was incredibly busy for 7pm on a Sunday and they were still baking bread the traditional way in huge clay ovens, sticking the dough to the sides like we had seen in Georgia. We decided to go for the borek filled with cheese and it was huge, with the crispy pastry complementing the sharp filling perfectly. Indeed, it was one of the finest meals I have had anywhere and after our ten minute pitstop where the four of us (me, Wolfie, our guide and our driver) all ate our borek around a small table, we pressed on back to the capital.
Knowing that we had to get up at 3:45am to catch our flight back to London (then onwards to Milton Keynes to get another Brewdog stamp), we knew we couldn't stay out late but we also knew we needed food. Consequently, we decided to go to the Karas National Food Chain, which was on the opposite diagonal corner of Republic Square to our hotel. As it turned out, our food took over half an hour to come (although to be fair we were warned), with us deciding on khachapuri, a Georgian dish which is also popular in Armenia. Karas is pretty much a basic canteen so our food wasn't the greatest - with the egg being fried rather than raw, which was the case in Georgia - but it was acceptable enough even if the dough was a little chewy and the egg not as creamy as the divine dish we had had in Kutaisi two years previously. Still, it was a nice way to end the day and our trip to Armenia and as we walked through the surprisingly busy Republic Square at 9:30pm on a Sunday evening, we reflected on just how good a trip it had been.
The Monday, 12 November, was unsurprisingly one tainted by tiredness due to our early start, but we did manage to get the flights - first to Kyiv then back to Gatwick - and get to Milton Keynes, where we visited a rather desolate Brewdog bar. We had tried to arrange meeting with Zuki but alas he didn't check his Twitter messages so we weren't there too long, although the lunch proposal probably wasn't viable anyway as we didn't arrive there until around 2:15pm. Upon arrival, I noticed a nearby geocache, which we struggled to find until a kind lady called us from a distance asking us whether this is what we were looking for. She works in one of the local offices and she showed us where it was hidden. We picked up two further geocaches that afternoon, including one which was a bolt cache, while we also nabbed one near Euston Station in London later on. The Brewdog bar staff in MK were interesting and it was great to see one of the Collab Beers we had not yet tried on draft, as well as a couple of special dark beers they had. MK itself was as dull as I feared, with it being a sterile town of offices as far as I could see, but I was incredulous that where we were was actually the centre. There wasn't much there at all. Aside from this, once we had gotten back to London, we had a straightforward meal at Prime Burger at Euston Station before catching our train back north around 7pm. The six hours I had left between our plane landing and the train leaving Kings Cross was perhaps excessive but our Ukrainian experience the week before highlighted the necessity of this, even if in the end we didn't need this insurance. Once we got back to Leeds though, at around 9:30pm, we were both too tired to wait for the bus and so opted for the simplicity of a taxi, which got us back thankfully swiftly after a very busy eight days.
