Travelling Trunks

Armenia’s landscape is dotted with some of the most spectacular monasteries

The immigration officer at Mumbai looks at my boarding pass and wants to know where Yeravan is. I tell him it is in Armenia. He ponders for a while and then asks me where Armenia is. I explain its geographical proximity to Iran, Georgia, Turkey and Azerbaijan. He has more information now to ponder over. He wants to know why I am going there. I tell him I am going on a holiday. There is a long silence…and then he asks me, “People go to Armenia to do tourist?” “Yes,” I say and cross over to the departure lounge, into one plane and later into another, as I sit sandwiched between young Indian students working their way into Armenia to earn a medical degree. I am a true voyager, journeying across for a historical, cultural and culinary submersion of a country that, in 301 AD, became the first ever in the world to adopt Christianity as its official religion.

There is so much to discover in Armenia. I will begin and end my holiday in Yeravan but not before I travel deep down south and parts of the north and west. For three days I off road in an old Russian Hunter, awestruck and belittled by nature as I explore petroglyphic fragments of 6500-8000 year old civilisations in the most picturesque settings 10,500 feet above sea level, and lunch at 9,200 feet on the fringe of a volcanic crater. I will visit churches and temples, captivated by their stunning beauty against the multi-hued autumn landscapes and attend Sunday service at Armenia’s “Vatican”. I will be told folk tales and legends and even become part of one.

My Russian Hunter against the stunning autumn landscape

A close up of a petroglyph…images that speak of lives and livelihoods centuries ago

The 13th century Noravank Monastery in a most picturesque setting

I explore the Armenian cross-stones – the khachkars, a tribute to the skill and craftsmanship of  their people. There are said to be more than 50,000 khachkars in Armenia, no two of which are alike. I visit the Noratus Cemetery, which dates back to the 9^th century, where the khachkars tell stories of those who lie deep under – of tailors, musicians, farmers, royalty – and the lives they led. I visit the Armenian Alphabet Monument, built in 2005 (when the alphabet celebrated its 1600^th birthday) to pay homage to the creator of Armenia’s alphabet. It’s a monument of 39 alphabets and I find mine.

Tombstone images at the Noratus Cemetery that tell stories of those that lie under

The khachkar, or cross-stone, is an Armenian symbol that is found across the country

The Armenian Alphabet Monument is a tribute to Mesrop Mashtots, the founder of the Armenian alphabet

There’s a lot of good eating and drinking to go with my travel. I am introduced to a variety of Armenian food and learn how to make some of it. In the home of a village woman, I learn (or try) to make lavash, the thin Armenian bread that needs a certain pizzazz and flourish to come out right. I knead and roll and toss and swing the dough on my finger before I put it into the oven, finishing it off with a thin spray of water as it comes out. I am gifted a lovely bottle of green walnut preserve by my lovely guide and, later, buy the most delicious rose petal preserve sold by an elderly woman outside the precincts of an old silk route caravanserai. Up high in another mountain, a nomadic village woman delighted to see us, insists on offering me a glass of tan, a buttermilk drink laced with cucumber and herbs.

Lessons in lavash making…

High up in the mountains and near the entrance to a caravanserai, I discover the most delicious rose petal preserve

I step into wineries and come out armed with bottles of lovely Armenian wines for my evenings in the country. In a brandy brewery, as I inhale the angel’s share I am told that Noah’s ark landed in Armenia after the floods and that he is credited with the first vineyard. The Armenians are proud of their brandy and while being introduced to the various aging bottles over fruits and cheese, we are regaled with stories of how the French conferred on the Armenians the right to call their brandy ‘cognac’ and how Winston Churchill would have nothing less than a Cuban cigar and an Armenian brandy. In the food market, I pick up loads of regular and smoked local string cheese, and preserved fruit that will, back home, soak in brandy for my Christmas fruit cake

An introduction to Armenian brandy

At the Yeravan market, the most amazing range of fruit in various forms

And finally, there is the art. I’ve always been fascinated by the representation of biblical stories and Christian iconography in art across countries. With such an ancient Christian history, I knew that the art produced in Armenia would be an expression of the strong influence that Christianity had on its Armenian people. And so began my quest to discover a local artist whose work I could take home. I took to Google and Instagram, pouring through images and profiles of artists until I homed in on two artists. One, I learnt, was a little out of Yeravan but I discovered that the other occasionally exhibited at the Open Air Vernissage Market where I planned to spend my last afternoon in the country. All I had was his name and number and as I walked through the art section, I looked out for his paintings, my only way of recognising him. He was nowhere around but I was told he would come by.

From the kitsch to the unique and treasured…it can all be found at the Vernissage Open Air Market in Yeravan

Another few rounds of the market and back to the art section where I finally meet Armen Vahramyan. Armen, I am told via the internet, “represents a new generation of Armenian painters brought up under the Communist regime, the 1988 earthquake and hardships during the transition period, all of which have influenced his work. He studied at the Secondary School of Fine Arts and later at the Professional School of Arts in Yerevan. During his years of study, he drew inspiration from medieval Armenian art and created a number of works at that time. His art is based on the ancient traditions of Armenian art using specific techniques of the graphic arts. Armen has exhibited in cities around the world including Yerevan, Moscow, Barcelona, Melbourne, New York, Toronto, Amsterdam and Stockholm.”

Armen makes his way into the market to set up his stall

I could not contain my excitement at meeting Armen – we speak in signs and language that need no words. He asks if I would like to come over to his studio and we make plans for me to come back when he closes for the day so that he could take me. I go in his car to his studio where I am met by his paintings and multimedia works. Travelling solo has its limitations on what I can carry back and so I settle for a canvas that will travel well.

And then Armen invites me to his home, not too far off, where his family lays out a delightful hi-tea. He shows me around his collection of paintings, some of his and some of his young son who is an equally amazing artist and who he believes will grow up to be more famous than him some day. I sit and chat non-stop with him, his wife, two boys and a niece (only one of whom knows a smattering of English) for a long while in a language that none of us understand and yet all of us do. As I tell him later, art and creativity needs no language.

Armen at home

Armen with his wife, sons and niece against the backdrop of one on my favourite pieces of his work

The evening was a befitting finale to my holiday in Armenia. It had funelled all the amazing experiences I had had of the country into the home of a much-celebrated personality and yet, how warm and inviting it had been.

The Armenian countryside