Travel Blog September 4 to October 17, 2025

Thursday-Friday, September 4-5, 2025: Vancouver, B.C., Canada to Larnaca/Larnaka, Cyprus

My Vancouver to Frankfurt flight on Air Canada left slightly late, but I was unable to get a seat upgrade due to it being full. Nevertheless, I registered for a free business lounge (and for a while when I was here, my small suitcase disappeared. By walking around the lounge, I luckily found it and figured someone probably took it, thinking it was theirs but then, realizing their mistake, had left it in a corner). When I arrived in Frankfurt, I hung around at my next gate and read. This flight also left a little late, but it was because the pilot announced that an unexploded bomb from WWII had been discovered in Frankfurt City and they were grounding flights until they knew more. A few minutes later, the pilot came on the speaker again to tell us that he was told we could leave. When I looked up this supposed bomb later on news sources later, I found no trace of it.

I slept mostly on this flight where no meal was provided, only water, and arrived in Cyprus (country number 169, UN country 134 Kalispera!) in the heat. Thinking of the fact that the citizens of this country were called Cypriots, I was reminded of a joke about Idi Amin, who wanted to change Uganda to his own name, but thought better of it once he realised that his countrymen would thence be called Idiots. I retrieved my luggage from the carrousel and rolled it over to an information kiosk next to the terminal building exit where I enquired about taxis. The taxi situation appeared to be well organized and the price I was quoted was the one I had found while researching transportation from the airport to the city. I was surprised to find that they drive on the left, in both the north and the south of the island, and learned from the taxi driver, who had a gravelly voice--no doubt due to being a chain smoker--that this was due to the island-nation's history as a British colony. The United Kingdom ruled Cyprus from 1878 to 1960: the island was administered by Britain as a protectorate (1878-1914), then annexed and ruled as a military occupation (1914-1925), and finally as a Crown Colony (1925-1960) until it gained independence. While Britain ruled Cyprus, it implemented its own driving rules, including driving on the left-hand side of the road, and the tradition has continued, even after Cyprus gained independence in 1960. Wikipedia tells me that “the Republic of Cyprus is an island country in the eastern Mediterranean Sea. Situated in West Asia, its cultural identity and geopolitical orientation are overwhelmingly Southeast European. Cyprus is the third largest and third most populous island in the Mediterranean after Sicily and Sardinia and is located southeast of Greece, south of Türkiye, west of Syria and Lebanon, northwest of Palestine and Israel, and north of Egypt. Its capital and largest city is Nicosia ... The northeast portion of the island is de facto governed by the self-declared, largely unrecognised Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus, which is separated from the Republic of Cyprus by a United Nations Buffer Zone.”

As we exited the airport and drove toward the centre of Larnaca--also spelled Larnaka--we passed what is know as the Great Salt Lake, which, at the time I saw it, looked like a plain of slightly pinkish salt that one might be able to walk across. The driver told me that when it rained it was full of flamingos. He also told me that temperature-wise this year, September has not been too bad at 30-35 degrees C. Last year at this time it was 45 degrees C. My hotel was actually located in a back street but was still close enough to walk to St. Lazarus Church and Larnaca's waterfront. After checking into my room, realizing that time before sunset was short, and thankfully not feeling the effects of jetlag, I headed out to the two aforementioned sights, buying a fridge magnet en route, and photographing one of the famous Cypriot cats. And now for a short history of St. Lazarus. Yes this is the Lazarus of the Bible: the man whom Jesus Christ told to get up and walk, and he did. The Byzantine Church of St. Lazarus has existed in Larnaca for over eleven centuries. Lazarus, the Bible tells us, was resurrected by Christ four days after the former man's death and just a few weeks before the latter's own crucifixion around 33 A.D. Lazarus was then forced to flee Bethany, a small town near Jerusalem, fearful that he might be killed by Christ's persecutors. He sought refuge in Cyprus, where he lived a modest and humble life as one of the earliest Christians. Around 45 A.D. in ancient Kition (now Larnaca), he met the apostles Paul and Barnabas, who ordained Lazarus as the First Bishop of Kition. He remained in this position for 18 years until 63 A.D. when he died a second time and was buried at the site where this church now stands. 'Larnaca' means 'Sarcophagus' and one such sarcophagus was found here, containing the intact relics of Saint Lazarus. As a result, the building has been an essential stop for Christian pilgrims en route to the Holy Land.

I then proceeded toward and along the waterfront, where, by following the hotel receptionist's instructions, I found the bus for Nicosia tomorrow. After dipping my right foot into the ocean on the south of the island of Cyprus, and as the sun set, I listened to the call to prayer at the mosque. On my arrival back at my hotel room, I ate some snacks and dealt with some emails, finding the UK-style of plugs for connections, transferred my photos, and wrote the first draft of today's travelogue entry. I have just realized that I haven't yet explained the background story of why I am here in Cyprus. Back in the early part of this year, I booked an 8-day walking tour of Northern Cyprus with the British small group tour company, Explore Worldwide, which was advertised on their website as a guaranteed departure, so I had gone ahead and booked the tour and my flights. However, a few weeks later, Explore contacted me to ask whether, since I was the only person on this trip, I would like to do it as a single traveller, cancel it altogether, or move my trip to another date. Having been given this choice of three options, I told them I would still like to do it, even if I were on my own because, given their guaranteed departure statement, I had already booked an entire 6-week trip based on these dates and it would be expensive to change my flights now. Nonetheless, they canceled the walking tour on their own initiative, thus leaving me in a quandary. I looked for other alternatives, but no other group tour company was offering tours to Cyprus so I decided to keep my original flight, visit what I could of Cyprus on my own, pop into a few other countries on my bucket list to fill in the remaining days, and then join my second organized tour as already arranged. Consequently, I have lost confidence in Explore and will query so-called 'guaranteed departures' mentioned on other tour company travel sites in future.

  

  

  

Saturday, September 6: Larnaca/Larnaka - Nicosia (Lefkosia/Lefkoşa) - Kyrenia/Girne - Nicosia (Lefkosia/Lefkoşa) - Larnaca/Larnaka, Cyprus

After eating a nice breakfast at my hotel, I walked back to the bus stop I had found last night and took an intercity bus, which drove for about an hour through a heretofore unseen part of Larnaca and along the highway to the capital city known as Lefkosia in Greek, Lefkoşa in Turkish, and Nicosia in English. Arriving at the central bus station, I was fascinated by what looked like small, light-coloured crows with blue eyes, and realized afterwards that they were probably Eurasian Jackdaws (Coloeus monedula). I did not take out my large camera all day so did not get a photograph of them. There wasn't much signage, and I couldn't find a timetable of return buses to Larnaca. What's more, since the man on his own in the ticket booth was busy dealing with a long line of Spanish teenagers waiting for him to issue them with student travel cards, I started asking adult men in the line up how I might go about finding the tourist office (which I was told wasn't open due to it being Saturday). One of the men pulled out his phone and directed me using Google maps which was very helpful. After walking a few yards, I then asked a young woman about the border crossing, and she was able to direct me along the correct pedestrian street since she had just crossed from the Turkish side herself. The passage with my passport through two separate police controls was fairly easy and I then proceeded northward past a mosque and along some very quiet back roads containing turtle doves, crumbling abandoned buildings, and very few people. Coming to part of the original wall around the ancient city, I finally circled back to the mosque by following the minarets I could see sticking up above the one- or two-floor buildings and eventually popped into a souvenir shop to ask the English-speaking proprietor where I might find buses going to Kyrenia, the city in Northern Cyprus where my original 8-day walking tour would have been based. He taught me how to say 'Girne gate' in Turkish so I could ask a few locals on my way to point me in right direction. Arriving then outside the gate, and asking others waiting at bus stops, I learned I had to flag down a combo taxi (vans with a capacity for 8 passengers plus driver, where said passengers get on and off at various stops en route.)

  

  

Arriving after about 20 minutes in the main square of Kyrenia (Greek) or Girne (Turkish), I headed toward the sea front or, more exactly, the old harbour, which did not contain a beach. My goal was to have lunch here and to dip my other foot into the water of the North shore of Cyprus. After enquiring at a few over-priced places if they would take Euros (this was the Turkish side of course and currency was Turkish lire), I finally found a modern-looking coffee house and bought a delicious mozzarella and tomato panini on very healthy bread as well as an ice coffee and was able to use their washroom. I then walked back to the combo taxi place but had to wait about a quarter to half an hour while another old smoker shouted “Lefkosia/Lefkoşa” over and over so as to encourage passengers to fill seats. As I waited, I was listening to a bird or birds in a large, shady, leafy tree but for some reason I couldn't see it or them. I finally stood up and walked around the tree and finally discovered that the musical tunes were coming from a single, small, colourful budgerigar (or canary?) in a large cage hanging from the back of the tree. It left me wondering why a caged bird sings, but I suppose it was probably happy given that it was nicely housed and fed by its owner and didn't have to worry about foraging for food on its own or about the ubiquitous, large, common pigeons attacking it and eating it.

  

  

I arrived back in Nicosia in this second combo van, found my way back (with some directions) through the border control (which consisted of two checks each way by the Turkish and Greek sides), and back to the bus station where I boarded the 4:00 p.m. bus to Larnaca. On the 55-minute ride back way, I dozed a bit, and then I walked back to my hotel as people were setting up for a Folk Festival on the beach. I took a shower and a short nap and then worked on my photos from my iPhone. I then checked into tomorrow's flights online and wrote up my notes for today. At about 8:30 p.m., I started hearing a female singer accompanied by some kind of electronic keyboard giving a concert. I didn't think she could have been part of the folk festival, nor part of a jazz festival I had also seen advertised for last night and tonight, because it was the wrong type of music for either. Perhaps then she was singing at a nearby cafe. The music was pleasant to listen to and stopped at 10:00 when I went to bed. However, it started up again at 10:30 and I could still hear it until about midnight, when either it stopped, or I fell asleep ... or both. Kalinichta!

  

 

Sunday, September 7: Larnaca/Larnaka, Cyprus to Pristina/Prishtina, Kosovo via Zurich, Switzerland

After breakfast, I checked out of the hotel, saying Efharisto to the receptionists, and caught my pre-ordered taxi to the airport, checking into Edelweiss Air, (a sister of Swissair, both under Lufthansa Group), which I'd never heard of before but apparently they are 30 years old this year. It took a while to check in as there was a long line up, and since they offered to check in both my bags for free, I accepted. The first flight to Zurich involved a time change of one hour backward and seemed long. Since there was no seat-back entertainment, I tried to sleep as much as I could. The young Swiss German-speaking woman next to me was noticeably pregnant. We were fed a cucumber-and-potato salad, a slice of hearty bread, and some kind of a cherry square with our soft drinks and juices, and later a quintessentially Swiss biscuit called “Bärli-Biberli, a traditional Swiss gingerbread specialty from Appenzell filled with an almond and apricot paste,” I learned. I then had to rush through the airport at Zurich as the sign posting wasn't clear. I actually went most of the way through an electronic immigration system into Switzerland, having scanned my passport and my fingerprints, but then I realized that entrance to the E gates I needed were off to one side of immigration, and I had to take a train to a separate terminal. My backpack was scanned again before I went upstairs to find my gate and then, as the connection was less than an hour, I checked that my bags had made it onto the second flight. Although we'd had a small plane to travel four plus hours from Larnaca to Zurich, we were given a huge plane to travel the 1.5 hours from Zurich to Pristina. The flight wasn't full, I was seated on an emergency row, and I had screaming toddlers and infants to the left of me and behind me. Once we were up in the air, I was able to use my earphones and watch the screen so that the screaming was thankfully muted. We were served a very large shortbread-like cookie in the shape of a heart and soft drinks/juices. As I stepped off the plane, I was bid Ade by the Swiss German crew, which, AI tells me to my surprise, is a more formal version of Adieu particularly used by the older generation. The crew were most definitely part of the younger generation!

I arrived in Kosovo (country number 170 but not a member of the United Nations), which means 'field of the blackbird,' went through another passport check, collected my luggage, which thankfully had arrived safely, and piled into a taxi. Chatting with the taxi driver, I learned that the language of Kosovo is Albanian, its population, about 1.6 million, and that 92 percent of the people living in Kosovo are Muslim Albanians. My taxi driver told me there was a large USA military presence to keep Kosovans safe from the Russians (and I suppose the Serbians) and proudly showed me the large US embassy near my hotel. He was also delighted to teach me some Albanian (yes (po), no (yo), good (mirë), and the most important one, thank you (faleminderit)). He offered to drive me to two other major cities over the next couple of days (Peja and Prizren), but I'll see how things go. He said the bus was cheaper but significantly longer. When I checked into the Mercure Hotel, which was slightly outside of the main city area but still within walking distance of downtown, I was told they did not organize tours and had no map of the city to offer me, but they could call me a taxi. I will play it by ear. After arriving at my very large room at this brand-new hotel, I was told, I then had some food I'd brought with me and caught up in my travelogue. I'll add a little more information about this country before I close this entry for today. The Republic of Kosovo, which covers an area of 10,887 km2 (4,203 sq mi), is a partially recognized, landlocked country in Southeast Europe, bordered by Albania, Montenegro, Serbia, and North Macedonia. Since declaring independence from Serbia on 17 February 2008, Kosovo has been recognized by the USA, Canada, and most EU member states, and has gained diplomatic recognition by at least 108 member states of the United Nations.

Monday, September 8: Pristina/Pristina - Peja - Pristina/Prishtina, Kosovo

After breakfast, I walked out of my hotel at 8:00 a.m., down the hill, and across construction and railroad tracks, asking people to point me toward the city centre. One older man I approached to ask for directions spoke German rather than English. I asked again at the Marriott Hotel whether I was going in the right direction and then finally a young woman steered me off the main street and up into the pedestrian area of Mother Teresa Boulevard, which was my goal. I took a few photographs based on what I had seen on YouTube about Pristina, which is touted as one of Europe's youngest capitals. I had written down a few sights to look out for. For Newborn Monument, which seemed to be the number one sight, I was directed back the way I had come but a few streets lower down the hill. One policeman with great English skills pointed it out to me once I was fairly near. Across the street from the monument, I saw hooded crows. Then I noticed the “Heroinat (Heroines) monument, dedicated to women victims of sexual violence perpetrated by Serbian forces during the Kosovo War, of which the vast majority were Albanian women.” I also saw statues together with US and Kosovan flags of Madeline Albright and Robert (Bob) Dole. When I asked about the Bill Clinton statue, I was told by a couple of people that it was opposite 'the church.' I asked whether this was Mother Teresa Cathedral, but they didn't seem to know. I also asked a young coffee house waiter about the Serbian Cathedral, and he said he didn't know and didn't want to know. I realized I had touched a raw nerve, and apologised, aware of the tension between Serbians and Albanians. Apparently, Kosovans are afraid Serbia will take back Kosovo, thus the presence of the American army and other multi-national peacekeeping forces. I finally spied a huge, religious building under construction and figured this was the Serbian Orthodox Cathedral of Christ the Saviour, since I had read it was under construction. I never did find Mother Teresa Cathedral, although I did find her statue.

  

  

By then, I had called in at a travel agent to be assured that I was on the right street--called Bill Clinton Boulevard incidentally--while another young woman I had asked told me the statue was miles away and much too far to walk! The young man in the aforementioned travel agency told me Clinton's statue was about 300 metres away. Pretty sure I was close to it, I called in at another travel agency (there seemed to be tons on this particular street) because it was advertising bus tickets. This young woman's English was minimal, but she did manage to get me to understand that she only sold bus tickets to Austria, but that there was a bus station not far from where we were, where I could get buses to Peja and Prizren, etc. She used her phone and Google translate (or the equivalent) to tell me that the bus station was straight ahead and then left. She then asked me in English, “Why Kosovo?” and in simple English, I replied that I was trying to visit all the countries in the world. “Was I a travel agent then?” No, I was just doing it by myself. Then she wrote something else on her phone which translated as, “Would you like a friend to accompany you?” It turns out she wanted very much to travel everywhere too. She had already visited Austria, Germany, and Switzerland, and her next trip with the travel agency was to take locals to Egypt! Leaving her agency, I crossed the road and finally saw the Bill Clinton statue or monument (due, I gather, to his visit to Kosovo in June of 1999) and then walked on to the bus station as I felt I had 'done' Pristina by then. It was 10:00 a.m. and time to go elsewhere.

  

  

Arriving at the bus station, I found out which bus was going to Peja, how much it cost from one of the bus drivers (who, incidentally, spoke Dutch rather than English), and that it would take 1 hour and 25 minutes. I then used the toilet behind the bus station for Euros 0.50. The bus trip itself was uneventful, though we passed many Kastrati gas stations and later a huge supermarket chain called Kastrati (I looked this up later and apparently it is a huge Albanian group representing many businesses in different sectors). I was puzzled, how, with such a name, they were able to have such a huge empire when clearly it wasn't a name that could be handed down from father to son or to daughter for that matter. Mind-boggling. The other puzzling words I repeatedly saw, due to my lack of knowledge about the Albanian language, were “UCK” and “Shitje.” I later found out that UCK is the Albanian acronym for the Kosovo Liberation Army, while shitje, on the other hand means 'sale' or 'for sale,' and 'shitet,' means 'is for sale.' The bus made many stops on the way to pick up and drop off people. Peja, located in the mountains, is 85 kilometres east of Pristina and about 15 km from the border with Montenegro.

  

  

As we drew into Peja, I noticed a large brewery outside the city and thought I might try the beer later. On my arrival at the bus station, I wandered around looking for signage, which I must say was much better than Pristina (where it was non-existent). After wandering through a large, outdoor bazaar, I found they had a tourist office, so went in there and asked for a map. The person manning the office was a young American. It was nice to talk to him and learn a bit more about Kosovo's conflict with Serbia. Apparently, apart from the aforementioned USA military base, there are other countries who maintain rotating peacekeeping forces in the area. I learned from him too that Peja is the tourist capital of Kosovo as they have mountains to climb, rocks to climb, and ziplines for adrenaline-seekers. But what the young American recommended I see in the short time I had here was a monastery (Patriarchate of Pec, a UNESCO World Heritage Site) at the far end of town and up a slight hill. At the end of this route, and just before the monastery, was another tourist office with, I am guessing, another, older American. I was feeling exhausted by then, not having had any nourishment but decided to push on, nonetheless. Two older, perhaps retired, policemen were in charge of checking our passports so we could go inside the UNESCO heritage site, but after that there were no checks and the only monastery staff I saw were two nuns in charge of some audio tours around the main church.

  

  

The tourist map describes the Peja Patriarchate as follows: “The orthodox church ...belongs to the XIII century [and] is one of the most important monuments from the late Byzantine era. [Its] four buildings reflect the ancient Roman-Byzantine culture of a particular style of wall paintings and its frescoes.” It was very beautiful inside with its painted walls, somewhat reminiscent of the Church of the Spilt Blood in Saint Petersburg, although the prominent colour on the walls was forest green (although my photos translate it as brown). There were no signs saying that photography was prohibited, so I took one or two inside the church. In the monastery gardens, I was excited to see a Eurasian Jay (Garrulus glandarius). I had previously seen my first Eurasian Jay in May of this year inside the Alhambra in Granada, Spain. Exiting the monastery complex, I then went over to a river that ran through the land and spied some more birds, wagtails--grey but coloured yellow Motacilla cinerea) and white or pied (Motacilla alba), White-throated Dippers (Cinclus cinclus), which were able to go under the water for a bit and come out again, and another Eurasian Jay, who, it appeared, had gotten into the water by mistake and was now trying to dry off in the trees, cleaning its plumage, and looking very unkempt in contrast to the one I'd seen in the grounds. Coming out of the monastery property, after seeing a Great Tit (Parus major) and a Spotted Flycatcher (Muscicapa striata) on the fence, I told the policemen that my visit had been mirë and in reply, in English, he wished me a nice day!

  

  

I then descended the road back to the centre as a few spots of rain fell, keeping my eyes open for more birds to photograph. I finally arrived back in the main square and ordered a Peja beer for 3 euros which came with a small box of popcorn. Some Roma boys came up to my table to beg for coins, but I ignored them, as I was told to do, so as not to encourage them. The beer was nice, and I was able to use the facilities in the bar before heading back to the bus station and catching the 5:10 bus back. I did remember to buy a Kosovo magnet in the bazaar en route to the bus station and photograph the flag. Did you know that Cyprus and Kosovo have something in common? Despite one being an island and the other, land-locked, they are the only two nations in the world that display the shape of their respective countries on their official national flags. Feeling exhausted after 16 kilometres of walking today, I decided to catch a taxi for the short ride back uphill to my hotel once I arrived at Pristina bus station and was told it would be 10 euros when I had spent only 5 euros to take a 1.5 hour bus ride from Peja, but I was too tired to argue or haggle.

  

Tuesday, September 9: Pristina/Prishtina - Prizren - Pristina/Prishtina, Kosovo

I was up about an hour later than yesterday and after breakfast walked down the hill again, this time toward the bus station to find the 'Welcome to Pristina' sign I had seen from the bus yesterday as well as the street art on the cement barriers and tunnels. I managed to find these without any trouble but the 'Welcome to Pristina' sign did not turn out well as a photograph taken from below the highway so I have not posted it here. Again, I was obliged to ask for directions to the bus station and ended up tracing my steps backward a bit. I availed myself of the bus station toilet again before hopping on a bus to Prizren, aware that I probably had a long trip ahead of me once again. It ended up being a longer ride than yesterday--about 2 hours--and I definitely dozed. The scenery southward from Pristina this time was not much different from yesterday's trip eastward. I was still seeing a lot of cars for sale and manufacturing facilities, the only recognizable crops being corn and perhaps kale (large dark green leafy things growing close to the ground).

  

  

  

  

 

When I arrived in Prizren around noon, I used the toilets here, which were Turkish this time but cost only Euro 0.30. Again, directions were not great, so I followed the crowds and found my way to a river running through the town, which once again contained lots of plastic bags and bottles as well as a few common pigeons (the river that is). My ultimate destination this time was a stone bridge, a cultural heritage monument, its original built in the 16th century using colourful, medium-sized stones and lime plaster. The current pedestrian bridge, which is 17m long, replaced an older one destroyed in 1979 due to flooding. I also photographed a few mosques, minarets, murals, the fortress on the hill, and a catholic church. As I strolled by these mosques, I listened to the cacophony of four--yes, four--calls to prayer all happening at the same time. I thought about climbing up to the fortress, which one vlog said was a must-do, but as I was not wearing sturdy footwear and there was a potential of sliding on small pebbles, I thought better of it and instead retraced my steps and ended up at the square by the river, where I found a seat at a table owned by the same chain coffee shop at which I had had my beer and popcorn in Peja yesterday. I ordered a very nice panini and another, smaller, Peja beer as I watched life go by. I then strolled back to the bus station, caught the 3:10 bus back to Pristina, repeated my taxi ride of yesterday back up the hill to my hotel (although this time I did haggle as the taxi driver was going to charge me 15 euros so I told him yesterday I had paid only 10, which he accepted), and ordered a taxi for the airport tomorrow morning. Arriving in my room, I transferred my photos and checked in online for my first flight with Pegasus but was informed I could not check into the other two with Qatar Airlines. Instead, I would need to check in at the airport itself.

  

  

  

  

  

  

Wednesday, September 10: Pristina/Prishtina, Kosovo to Manama, Bahrain via Istanbul, Türkiye and Doha, Qatar

I had a premonition this morning that this would be a long and difficult day. After all, my travel agent had come up with a schedule that involved three flights to get me to where I wanted to go and the transit time between flights was not ideal. However, I think he thought it would save me waiting eight hours in Istanbul airport. Sadly, he did not calculate well, and I ended up nevertheless spending those eight hours in Istanbul's newer airport, Sabiha Gökçen International Airport, located 32 km (20 mi) southeast of the city centre in the Asian part of the transcontinental city, named after Sabiha Gökçen, an adoptive daughter of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk and the first female fighter pilot in the world. I read later that it is one of the busiest airports in the Middle East. Things started out well enough. I woke early enough to get a shower, pack, and arrive at breakfast before it opened at 7:00 so as to eat in haste and step into the taxi that was waiting for me outside my hotel. The driver had limited English, so we struggled for conversation until I noticed he was inserting German words here and there, so I asked if he spoke German and we continued our conversation in that language. Of an older generation, he reminded me that the dissolution of Yugoslavia took place in 1989, and clarified that as a child in school, he had had the option of learning German, French, Italian, or English and had opted for German. He told me that all young men in Kosovo between the ages of 18 and 27 must do military service, although not the women. He mentioned this when I asked him if he knew any Serbian besides his native Albanian and he informed me that he had been obliged to learn Serbian whilst undergoing his one year of military training. I wished him Freiheit for Kosovo and left him with a final faleminderit.

I checked into my Pegasus Airlines flight (a Turkish airline company I had never heard of before), although I was only issued a boarding pass for my first flight with Pegasus and not with my other two flights with Qatar Airlines. As mentioned previously, I had not been able to check into the Qatar flights online either. The plane was comfortable enough with a spare seat between myself and my row companion and it took about 3 hours, although there was a time change of one hour. There was no entertainment on offer, so I caught up on sleep and arrived in Istanbul airport via a bus from the plane. Here is where things went horribly wrong. When I arrived in the melée off the bus and into the terminal building, there were two young women whose job it was to direct arriving passengers to where they were to go. I headed off toward connecting flights but was stopped by one of them because I did not have any boarding passes for my Qatar flights. I started explaining but was told I would have to go through immigration (into Türkiye, which surprised me because clearly I was only in transit). I commented to her that I hoped it wouldn't take too long because my Qatar flight was leaving in an hour, but as Murphy's Law would have it, that line was long and it moved very slowly. The young woman had then told me that after going through the border control, I would need to go upstairs to departures and to the flight check-in desk where I would be issued my boarding card. Well, it turns out that this was entirely wrong information, or so I found out several hours later. She should have then said I was to go to the connections desk right after exiting immigration where I would be issued my Qatar Airlines boarding cards. Acting on the former information, I literally ran upstairs and across the length of the departures floor to the Qatar Airlines flight check in desk and--inevitably--there was no one there because, of course, check in for the flight had meanwhile closed. Noticing a desk selling Qatar Airline tickets among other airline tickets, I asked the young man at the counter after explaining my situation what I should do. He kindly explained that he only sold tickets and that I should go to the Pegasus Airlines counter to see if they could help. At said counter, after explaining my situation once again to a young lady, she said yes she could help, her help consisting of sending an email to Qatar Airlines to explain that I had missed the flight. She then told me to come back in about 30 to 40 minutes to check if there was a reply. I checked 30 minutes later, was told there was no reply, and it was suggested I return 20 minutes later, and so on. This went on for an hour still without any answer from Qatar. I asked them to phone the airline too and they tried twice but no one was responding.

Finding out then that both Qatar Airlines and Pegasus had other flights to Doha this evening around 8 p.m. and that there were otherwise no flights to Doha until then, I went back to the ticket sales counter to see if he could sell me a ticket elsewhere. He very kindly suggested I go and retrieve my checked-in luggage as it had surely been removed from the plane once it was discovered I had not boarded. So, I went back to the arrivals floor and spoke to the security staff there. They called a representative from Pegasus, and I handed over my luggage tags, which showed that the luggage had been labeled to travel all the way to Bahrain. The Pegasus representative came back after a while to tell me it was no longer Pegasus's responsibility and was now that of Qatar Airlines. She then handed me over to a colleague, a young man this time who had no English at all and using a translation system on his phone, I was asked to describe my bag for a second time: its size, its case material, and its colour. He then disappeared and came back once to tell me he couldn't find it and that we would just have to continue to wait. After two hours of waiting (yes!), I finally approached another young female staff member I saw emerging from the baggage claim area and told her I had been waiting to reclaim my luggage for two hours. She finally took the initiative to take action and invited me into the claim area, had me scan my other bags and, as soon as I arrived at the carrousel area, bingo! There was my bag sitting calmly on the floor with about five other suitcases that had been pulled off the nearest conveyor belt. That young man must have been blind not to see it. But I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he was colour blind. I never did see him again after he had disappeared for the second time after taking a photograph of my luggage tag on my smaller suitcase identical to the one I had on my bigger suitcase, thus getting a lot of my personal information.

Returning to the Pegasus desk after two hours away, I spoke to a third agent (the other two I had talked to before having both disappeared) and explained my situation once again. He said he would speak to his supervisor and would I come back in another 20 minutes. I did so but was told there had been no answer from Qatar at all and that there was nothing they could do if Qatar wasn't answering their phone or their emails. I then decided I would go to the 8 pm to Doha flight check-in desk and see if there was a seat on it for me. I lined up until it opened and then saw there was a sign saying Flight Controller. So, I went over to talk to him, and it was at that time I heard where I should have been directed after my arrival off the bus from the Pegasus flight. They told me there had been five other passengers on my flight from Kosovo transiting to the Qatar flight I was supposed to have transited to and that these five persons had indeed made it onto the Qatar flight. In view of that information, they decided I had missed my flight on purpose, and it was therefore not their responsibility to change me to the 8 pm flight for free. In hindsight, I should have suggested to them that since they were expecting six passengers off that flight from Prishtina they should have sent a Qatar Airlines representative down to the arrivals hall to direct us to the connections desk they had mentioned so that arriving passengers would not be misinformed and misdirected elsewhere. In the end, I went back to the kind ticket salesman and bought a new ticket for Bahrain via Doha to ensure I got to Bahrain and wouldn't moreover lose my Bahrain hotel reservation this evening. He advised me never to buy connecting tickets from different airlines because neither took responsibility for the other. Clearly my travel agency in Vancouver had no inkling of this animosity when they made this flight schedule. I also learned from this debacle that it probably would have been better had I gone to Kuwait first and then Bahrain given their geographical positioning.

After checking in and going through security and immigration once again, I finally bought something to eat and drink at McCafé, found my gate, and got onto my flight, during which I was seated with a couple of coughing and sneezing young men. During this four-hour flight, we were served a meal, and I tried napping before arriving in Doha, Qatar after midnight. We were bussed off the plane to the terminal, which seemed to take an age. I then had to walk practically the entire length of the terminal building to get to my next gate and was surprised how busy the terminal was at that time of night. My final flight of the three--to Manama, the capital of Bahrain (country number 171, UN country 135)--was probably the shortest flight I have ever taken as it was literally 20 minutes from take off to landing, although we were bussed a long way out to the plane in Doha again. I will keep on writing although it is already September 11. Going through immigration, I was issued a tourist visa. I had tried to apply online before leaving Canada but hadn't been successful. My memory is that the online price was double what I paid on arrival in person. I then retrieved both my bags, which had arrived safely from Istanbul, and rolled them to where taxis were indicated and was driven to my hotel by a man in a white thobe. I checked into my room and was finally able to lay down my head and sleep.

Thursday, September 11: Manama, Bahrain

I had set my alarm for 9:30 so that I wouldn't miss the breakfast buffet, which was being served until 10:30, and had otherwise slept soundly since about 3:00 this morning. After a shower and breakfast, I arranged for a taxi and driver to take me around Bahrain tomorrow morning, then washed a few bits of clothing, read up on Bahrain from information the concierge had provided me, answered emails, and started catching up on this travelogue. According to the tourist brochure given to me by the hotel concierge, the Kingdom of “Bahrain is an oasis in the Arab world where tradition and modernity share the [shade of] palm trees ... and amazing views of the sea. Located in the Gulf of Salwa, in the heart of the Arabian Gulf, Bahrain [consists] of a fascinating archipelago of 33 islands with a total land area of over 706 square kilometres. The word 'Bahrain' literally means 'two seas' [referring] to the natural springs of water rising from beneath the sea which are used by the country's famous pearl divers.” Wikipedia contradicts the brochure information slightly by stating “Situated on the Persian Gulf, it comprises a small archipelago of 50 natural islands and an additional 33 artificial islands, centred on Bahrain Island, which makes up around 83 percent of the country's landmass.” Bahrain is situated between Qatar and the northeastern coast of Saudi Arabia, to which it is connected by the King Fahd Causeway. The current population is estimated to be about 1.64 million. Roughly forty-seven percent of the population are Bahraini nationals, while the rest are expatriates spanning 2,000 ethnicities. Bahrain is the third-smallest nation in Asia after Maldives and Singapore. The head of state is His Majesty the King, Hamad bin Isa Al-Khalifa. His family has been ruling Bahrain ever since 1783. The photo below, taken from a wall in the hotel facing the front entrance, is the reigning family: grandfather, father, and son respectively from left to right. At one stage, Bahrain became a protectorate of the United Kingdom (and consequently I was expecting its cars to be right-hand drive like Cyprus, but they are not). It declared independence in 1971. According to my phone, today's temperature is about 36 degrees Celsius and has been ranging between 34 and 36 all this week. About 92% of Bahrain is desert. One interesting fact is that consensual male and female homosexual relations between adults over the age of 21 are legal in Bahrain, the only Muslim Gulf country where it has been legal since 1976.

 

I spent the entire day in my hotel room catching up on my travelogue and sometime around 4:00 p.m. was phoned because someone from the kitchen staff had a gift for me due to the fact, I learned, that I had finally reached Silver Elite status with the hotel group. The above photo shows you what this gift was--a beautiful, mini cake with additional marzipan cookies. It reminded me I should probably eat, so at a reasonable dinner hour, I left my room and went down to the hotel restaurant to order a quesadilla (Yes, not very traditional Bahrani food at all, but delicious and filling nonetheless!) I then brought my travelogue up to date. I look forward to visiting Bahrain properly tomorrow, hoping I won't faint from the heat. It will be Friday tomorrow but I was told this would mean there would be less traffic and I could more easily complete a tour of the things I wanted to see within a reasonable timeframe.

Friday, September 12: Manama, Bahrain

After breakfast, I met my driver for the day, Sajjad, a forty-nine-year-old Bahrani, turning fifty in October, with a son in the oil business, a daughter, and a 4 month-old granddaughter. His English was fairly good, and he knew his stuff. I particularly enjoyed his explanation of the differences in the men's thobes and head-coverings among the various Arabian Peninsula countries. The only thing he got wrong was thinking that the main mosque, Ahmen Al Fateh Grand Mosque, would be open to non-Muslim visitors on a Friday, despite all the trouble I had taken to dress modestly and bring a large head covering. I did manage to photograph its exteriors, however, but I am getting ahead of myself.

  

  

  

  

We started off with a visit to Bab Al Bahrain, the gate of Bahrain located at the entrance of Manama Souq. Built in 1949, it once housed the government's administrative offices and overlooked the sea. Reclaimed land now sets this gate quite a distance from the seashore. We entered to look at a few displays regarding the history of trade in the region and old photos. As the temperature was very high (max. 39 degrees C. today) and humidity was high (max. 60% today), my camera lens fogged over at first and took a while to acclimatize so that the photos I took would be visible. We then wandered through the souq, and I was able to take a few photos here. We next headed over to the (as of 2005) UNESCO World Heritage site of Qal'at Al Bahrain Fort, thought to have been the centre of power for the ancient Dilmun civilization. As it was located in an untreed area, I used my umbrella for protection from the hot rays and did not explore far. It was interesting, nonetheless, to get some panoramic shots containing the old and the new. On the seashore, between the fort and its museum building, there were a number of these Lesser Sand Plovers (Charadrius mongolus). We made a stop at a shop selling herbal water, which I understood to be natural water flavoured with various herbs and plants. Sajjad bought a small bottle flavoured with palm, a few drops of which he poured into my own bottle of water, supplied for the journey by my hotel. Its additional flavour was pleasant, and it seemed to cool the water as well. We then took the highway toward the centre of the main island of Bahrain, past dozens, if not hundreds, of archeologically interesting burial mounds dating from the Dilmun civilization during the third millennium B.C. Like the Egyptians, Sajjad told me, these ancient peoples were buried with all their worldly goods but are protected by the government from grave robbers and the like.

  

  

  

  

Our next stop was to the First Oil Well, Bahrain being the first country in the Arabian Gulf to discover oil (struck on June 1, 1932) beneath the highest land in the country called Jabel Al Dukhan, at 137 metres above sea level in the middle of the Sakhir Desert. The area was vast and filled with abandoned drills, and pipes, but there was one photogenic drill that someone had taken the trouble to decorate as an exotic bird, which made this visit interesting for me. Not far away from this site was what is known as the Tree of Life. Said to be 400 plus years old, this acacia seems to have survived mysteriously without any known water sources (perhaps it prefers oil!). I noticed a couple of nests in its branches, inhabited perhaps by Bahrain's national bird the White-eared Bulbuls (Pycnonotus leucotis), which Sajjad said were hard to see but beautiful to listen to. I neither saw nor heard any, however. The photo you see next to the tree is of a human sundial located a few metres away. We then debated about visiting the Al-Areen Wildlife Park in this same area, but hearing that a lot of these animals were not native to Bahrain (such as lions and zebras) and that many of them were in cages, I decided it was not worth it, and instead Sajjad drove me to a place where I could see Greater flamingos (Phoenicopterus roseus), who had freely decided to take the waters in a residential complex. Here, too, with her mother's permission, I captured a photo of a local Bahraini girl also photographing the flamingos with her iPad. In this area and in many others in Bahrain, the prominent bird seemed to be Laughing doves (Spilopelia senegalensis), also seen here.

  

  

  

  

Driving back toward Manama, I was informed it would not be possible to photograph the King Fahad Causeway linking Bahrain and Saudi Arabia as I had hoped. This 25km feat of engineering was opened in 1986 and is one of the most expensive causeways in the world. Its five bridges rest on 536 concrete pylons, with seven embankments in the Gulf's shallower water. I then asked if I could photograph the huge Bahraini flag, seen here, which I was told was set in the complex of the Royal Palace. The palace itself was not visible due to high walls. However, the buildings around, which were visible later on along the highway--government housing i.e. housing for people who worked for the government--were very modern, and very pretty, in varying pastel shades of yellow, blue, pink, and green. Learning then that I was attracted to bright colours in my photography, Sajjad decided to take me to A'ali Pottery Workshop, nearby which were these murals. Although the pottery workshop we visited provided visitors with the opportunity to make pottery alongside the workers, when we arrived it was unfortunately their lunch time, so all I was able to do was take photographs. One wall contains the following history. “Hajj Jaafar Mohammed Al-Shungul was born in 1939 A.D. and died in 2018 A.D. at the age of eighty years. Hajj Jaafar was one of the greatest pottery makers in the Kingdom of Bahrain and one of the founders of pottery factories in A'ali village. He founded his factory in the mid-twentieth century when he grew up in one of the ancient families in the history of the Kingdom of Bahrain, which is famous in the field of pottery and lime industry. It is the (Alshughulk) family with profession that was legacy gifted by his parents and grandparents. He began to practice this profession while he was just ten years old, under the care of his father-in-law, Hajj Ali Alshughul. Hajj Jaafar was trained by his family members who were older than him in the profession in 1949 A.D.. He challenged his elders because of his talent, speed, and accuracy as he possessed experience and art and devoted them to his work. He was one of the most skilled craftsmen in that period where he practiced his profession to earn a living. At the same time, he was very interested in this legacy and was trying to preserve the profession from getting lost in the next century. Ultimately, the pottery-making profession is considered one of the most important ancient crafts in the History of the Kingdom of Bahrain.”

  

  

  

  

Finally, it was time to visit the Grand Mosque with the disappointing result I mentioned at the beginning of today's write-up. Consequently, I cannot tell you what it looks like inside. Next, we had a short stop at the National Theatre of Bahrain, a waterfront building complex situated next to the Bahrain National Museum, whose grounds consisted of a number of unusual looking statues that I did not photograph, and these hanging white flowers. Continuing then to the waterfront by car, I was given the opportunity to photograph various buildings, these small birds, Indian Silverbill (Euodice malabarica) outside a cage containing more exotic budgerigars, macaws, and parrots, and some Common Mynas (Acridotheres tristis) in the Financial District. We ended up at the twin towers of the Bahrain World Trade Centre (BWTC), the first skyscraper in the world to integrate wind turbines into its design, although Sajjad told me the office workers in these buildings complained of the noise these turbines made and had requested that they be turned off! For fun, Sajjad and I ended our tour by posing at these very colourful Angel Wings near my hotel. A 7-hour-long private tour in a very comfortable air-conditioned car with leather seats, what more could you want on a very hot, very humid day? I arrived back at my hotel quite content and looking forward to eating the small cake the hotel bakery had made for me yesterday waiting for me in my fridge. I processed my photos and ended the evening by watching a movie (in English with Arabic subtitles) on TV.

  

  

  

Saturday, September 13: Manama, Bahrain to Kuwait City, Kuwait

Today, after breakfast, I had enough time to write up yesterday's entry before checking out of my hotel and getting a taxi to Manama's beautiful, spacious, white, and light, award-winning airport. After checking into my flight and going through passport control and security control (I was practically on my own so it was very quick indeed, but although I asked for a Bahraini stamp in my passport, the policeman just smiled and said they didn't do that), I bought a few more books to read at W H Smiths, and spoke to the Ugandan salesperson about tours in Uganda. He agreed that while both Rwanda and Uganda were safe to travel to at the moment, there were still skirmishes in Burundi that it would be best to stay away from. I then read a book at the gate until it was time to board my Kuwait Airlines flight, and this time shared a row with two young brothers, who spent their time playing video games. Just before take off and after the safety briefing, a short prayer in Arabic was read over the loudspeaker with its words displayed on our screens. Allahu Akbar indeed! We were fed an egg sandwich and two packets of biscuits as well as orange juice and water during the short hour-or-so flight. On our arrival, in what we were informed was 42 degrees Celsius heat, I had to get a visa for Kuwait (country number 172, UN country 136) and this took some time as there was a Canadian family in front of me. The man (from Burnaby) was working in Kuwait, and his wife and son were visiting, but they (the wife and son) could only stay 3 months at a time and then had to exit Kuwait and come back in. They had been away for 24 hours as had been the case other times they had done this but were told this time they had to be out of the country for 48 hours. It was then my turn and not only did I have to fill out a form, but I also had to have my photo taken and then consecutively submit the four fingerprints of each hand and then my two thumbprints at the same time. A lot of rigamarole to stay only 48 hours. But finally, they bid me welcome, and I was given a piece of paper with my particulars on it as well as an ink stamp and another stamp in my passport. As this had taken a while, I found my large suitcase standing on its own by the empty carrousel and followed signs to the taxi stand. A man in a white thobe came toward me and asked if I wanted a taxi. I said yes and he had a young fellow drive me--also in a white thobe and head dress, although I had the impression this young man had some kind of a mental health issue. He was using his car horn rather a lot (and I thought unnecessarily) and making hand gestures in the bumper-to-bumper traffic. He spoke no English but the interesting thing about him is that he had Islam prayers playing on his radio and he was singing and praying along with the voice on the radio, somewhat untunefully at times, but you could tell he knew the words and music by heart. He delivered me to my hotel, the Holiday Inn, which was set side by side with the Crowne Plaza and the Intercontinental, all belonging to the same hotel group. The photo of Sheikh Mishal Al-Ahmad Al-Jaber Al-Sabah, who became the Emir of Kuwait at the age of 83, on 16 December 2023, was hanging proudly over the hotel's reception desk. There were two portraits of him actually, one with glasses and one without but with a toothier grin, as you will see here. Prior to becoming Emir, he was the oldest crown prince in the world (consequently, I realised this honour had not been held either by King Charles III of the United Kingdom, who was 73 when he was crowned, or even King Edward VII, who became king at the death of Queen Victoria at age 59!)

On checking in at reception, I learned that I could have taken a free shuttle to my hotel instead of paying for a taxi but I had not known that, so I ordered the free shuttle back to the airport for two days hence. I next went over to the car rental desk and ordered a car and an English-speaking driver to take me around Kuwait tomorrow. I was introduced to the driver from southern India, who seems a pleasant enough fellow, but I gather he is just a driver and not a tour guide as well. When I was asked what sites I wanted to visit, I said I would watch some YouTube videos and find out what there was to see here, and they seemed to think that was a good idea. In doing my research, I found that the State of Kuwait, an Emirate, is the most conservative country in the Gulf region--alcohol is completely banned--and the least visited as tourism represents only 1.5% of the country's GDP. Located between Iraq and Saudi Arabia, it was a British protectorate from 1899 until 1961. Massive oil reserves were found in 1938 and from 1990 to 1991, the country was invaded and occupied by Saddam Hussein of Iraq because he wanted to take over these oil reserves. Via Operation Desert Storm, the Iraqi forces were ousted, and as they retreated, they carried out a scorched earth policy by setting Kuwait's oil wells on fire. After this war, Kuwait was closed to tourism until 2016 when it opened up again. Kuwait is one of the richest countries in the world, with the sixth largest oil reserves, and fuel represents 90% of its GDP. It also has the strongest currency in the world (1 Kuwait dinar = about USD3.27) and exports more than it imports.

 

Sunday, September 14: Kuwait City, Kuwait

After breakfast, I walked over to the car-rental-plus-driver desk and was asked to pay beforehand. What's more, the receipt I was given had the name of the driver on it instead of my own name. I pointed this out to the Filipina woman who made the booking, and she explained that this was how she was required to record the rental as per Kuwaiti instructions. I showed her and the driver a list of places I wanted to visit, but I got the impression that although the driver, whose English was rather difficult to understand, had been in Kuwait for 15 years and had worked as a driver for 15 years, he didn't seem to know where these top five or six tourist attractions were, with the exception of the Kuwait Towers and the Souq. Otherwise, I had to type in the attractions on his phone, and he then used GPS to find them with his car. The Kuwait flag you see below I found in the Souq and the 'I heart Kuwait' sign was located outside Al Hamra Mall.

  

My first stop was the Kuwait Towers, a UNESCO World Heritage Site called Abraj Al-Kuwait, touted as the top tourist attraction here, and I went up to the observation deck for photos. These towers are actually three water tanks out of a total of 31 that are strategically located in groups around the country. These three particular towers can store a total of 9,000 cubic metres of water. The tallest is 185m and at the time it was built, it was considered to be the highest in the Middle East. When I went in, I was the only visitor. Outside, I saw some birds to photograph. For the most part, they are the three following species: Western Yellow Wagtail (Motacilla flava), Tree Pipit (Anthus trivialis), and the bird in the nest with its young is a Eurasian collared dove (Streptopelia decaocto). These letters spelling out 'Kuwait' were also in the area of the water towers.

  

My second stop was the Grand Mosque, the largest mosque in Kuwait, spanning an area of 45,000 m2 or 480,000 ft2. The main prayer hall is 72 metres (236 ft) wide on all sides. Natural lighting is provided by 144 windows. Completed in 1987 at a cost of USD48.6 million, it has a capacity to fit 11,000 people (10,000 men and 950 women on an upper level). Again, I was almost the only visitor there at the time I went, and by asking various workers I saw, I was told I had to go to a small building to talk to a guide. I met three female English guides all dressed in black robes and was asked to don a beige-coloured robe, called an abaya, that they would lend me. I was then left to enter on my own and photograph as much as I liked, even the VIP room in one corner. There were signs here and there in Arabic and English explaining certain parts of the mosque, some of which I will reproduce here.

  

“Mashrabiyas are wooden windows with an ancient Islamic design formed in symmetrical geometric shapes. They offer privacy, as [they allow] women to see the Imam and [are used] for light and air ventilation. The name mashrabiya is derived from the word shariba or to drink, as the owners of the houses in which mashrabiyas are found used to keep bottles of water near the mashrabiya so that the air flowing into the house would cool the water. There are 11 mashrabiyas in the Grand Mosque covering the Ladies' Hall, overlooking the Main Prayer Hall.”

  

“The Dome is a semi-circular structure that is hollow from the inside. Its design is based on repeated ribs that meet at the centre of the dome and rest on a square base. The first one in Islam is that of the Dome of the Rock Mosque in Jerusalem, Palestine (sic), built between 692-688 CE. Its benefits are illumination from sunlight, ventilation, and acoustics. When the Imam stands inside a circular mihrab, his voice bounces back to the dome and from there throughout the mosque. The Dome of the Grand Mosque of Kuwait rises from the ground of the mosque by about 43m, and its diameter is 26m. It consists of two domes: the outer dome carries 48 windows on its drum, while the inner dome bears 96 windows. The dome is supported by four columns, each 22m long, which is the height of the Main Prayer Hall. The petals of a rose emerge from the dome in the process of blooming, representing the impact of Islam, which was like a rose that spread its fragrance on civilizations throughout history, while its four leaves are seen emerging from the four columns in the Hall, and the petals contain multiple geometric star shapes. The design was added in 2013 during the renovation project designed by the French architect, Paul Victor.”

  

“The Niche is a recessed cavity in the wall of the mosque that indicates the direction towards Mecca (qibla) and is designated for the Imam, who is the leader of the prayer, to start facing Mecca as he leads the prayers. The Grand Mosque has 8 mirhabs, 7 of which are in the Main Prayer Hall and the 9th [is] in the Daily Prayer Hall. The main mihrab is located in the middle of 6 small niches. The main mihrab is the only one that is circular in shape, while the other niches are polygonal.”

  

The only thing I wasn't allowed to do was touch the koran. I could ask someone with clean hands to open it for me if I so wanted, however. As I exited the Mosque and came back to the separate building to remove my abaya, I was slightly disoriented and asked one man in English where I was supposed to go to do this. He asked me if I spoke French, because, he said, something I had said in English made him think I spoke English with a French accent! so of course I responded in French and repeated my question. It turns out he was the French interpreter for visitors to the mosque. I never did get his name, but he was very kind and friendly. He introduced me to the Persian-speaking guide and offered me a cold drink (apricot juice) which was very welcome. He told me that all their visitors were foreigners because although Muslims may pray at any mosque in the world, they are only allowed to visit three: Mecca, Medina, and the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem. Then he offered to guide me outside again so I could find my driver and car. The driver was not where he said he would be, so it's lucky the French interpreter came with me because he then used his phone to call the number on the car-and-driver-rental receipt I showed him so as to be able to get the telephone number of my driver and find out where he was waiting for me. Eventually, we met up again, and all was well, but it may well have taken longer had I had to search for my driver on my own since communication between me and my driver was not clear.

  

My next stop was Souq Al-Mubarakiya, through which I wandered on my own, first through the perfume section and then through the vegetables and fruit, hence this date seller and his customer, and then restaurants. My purpose was to find a fridge magnet, and I finally found a selection at one stall--it seemed to be only the one offering these--plus a bracelet saying Kuwait on it. Finished with my purchases, I then waited a good twenty minutes for the driver under my umbrella in the heat. It was so hot, when I sat down for a short while on the paving stones, I felt them burning my legs and feet. I also photographed some more unidentifiable birds as I waited.

  

For some respite from the heat, I then suggested going to Al Shaheed Park, a 78.5-acre oasis in the city. Here I saw and managed to photograph more birds as I strolled around beneath my umbrella, including the white-eared bulbul (Pycnonotus leucotis), Bahrain's national bird, which I had failed to see whilst there, a pair of cattle egrets (Bubulcus ibis), a spotted flycatcher (Muscicapa striata), and up to now, rather elusive to me, the common hoopoe (Upupa epops), its striped wing and tail patterns and crest just about visible through these bars.

  

My final visit was to the Avenues Mall, a cooler place to stroll but filled with mostly luxury shops I would normally never go in. I wasn't there to shop, mind you, merely to get the feel, and grab a very late lunch from one of the nine Starbucks establishments (though I saw only 5), despite their getting my drink order wrong. Apparently, the Avenues, built over 11 years from 2007 to 2018, is made up of 12 separate districts and covers a gross land area of 360,000 m2 with over 1,100 stores and a spacious multi-level parking lot with a capacity for 13,000 cars.

  

  

Monday, September 15: Kuwait City, Kuwait to Almaty, Kazakhstan via Dubai, U.A.E.

Yet another travel day. After having breakfast and writing up my travelogue from two days ago, I caught the free shuttle to the airport and received a single boarding pass for two flights on flydubai, another airline I'd never heard of before but affiliated with Emirates. They checked in both my bags, so I hope they don't both get lost! When I went through immigration, my passport was stamped again but they kept the paper visa. While I sat and waited to enter the gate for my flight, I talked to a fellow from Sri Lanka, who'd been working as a driver in Kuwait but was now going back to Sri Lanka via Dubai on holiday, although he had no intention of returning to Kuwait. He felt time spent with his family was more important. The plane was quite empty and the flight to Dubai lasted slightly over an hour. We were fed a handful of nuts and fruit, a cheese and tomato sandwich, and a chocolate bar plus water and tea. We were then taken on a long bus ride to our terminal and had to wait a while to get onto another bus to go to a different terminal, which was another long bus ride. Finally reaching the terminal containing my gate, I wandered around because my flight wasn't posted on the board yet. I had finished my book, so ended up buying two more paperbacks. We were finally invited to board our flight at 9:30 p.m., and this plane was fairly full with another screaming baby and a meal of rice and chicken balls around 11 p.m. As the seat back entertainment had to be paid for, I tried to nap as the woman beside me overcrowded me somewhat. I finally arrived in Almaty, Kazakhstan (country number 173, UN country 137), no visa required, and waited for my luggage (yes, both suitcases arrived safely). However, on entering the arrivals hall, I found no one from my tour company there to collect me and take me to my hotel. No one at the two information desks had even heard of the tour company (which is Armenian). I had not been given the name of the hotel I was booked at either. There was a hotel in Almaty mentioned on the website for the tour, so I asked the girl at the information desk to phone it to find out if they had a booking for three nights under my name, but she was told they did not. I had, in fact, specifically checked with the woman I have been corresponding with since February 2025 whether by arriving a day or so before the tour started, I would still be met and transferred to the hotel and was told yes. I had already paid the extra two nights of hotel to the tour operator too. Luckily, someone at the information desk set up free wi-fi for me so I sent off emails and WhatsApp messages to both the tour contact in Armenia and to the British tour company that was my original contact for this tour. The UK company is four hours behind Kazakhstan so my only hope is that they will see my WhatsApp message once they arrive at their office and can then contact the Armenian team because it appears I am currently unable to do so.

Tuesday, September 16: Almaty, Kazakhstan

I am still here in the Almaty airport waiting to be picked up and to be contacted by my Armenian contact, who has not responded to any of my messages or my 6 WhatsApp calls. I have finished one of the books I bought in Dubai yesterday and started a second. I am now writing up my travelogue to fill in time. I have looked up hotels, but the names of chain hotels that I recognize seem to be already fully booked. I have also looked up flights back to Vancouver and see there are several possibilities although they might involve more airlines I have never heard of. Coincidentally, when I arrived in the arrivals hall, I did see a sign from G Adventures/National Geographic tours collecting people for their tour. I looked it up and found it starts on September 18, but it only encompasses the five Stans and not the 3 Caucuses as well. Finally, at 12:30 local time (8:30 UK time), I received an email from the UK travel agency in response to mine. They apologized profusely and said they would contact the Armenian team immediately. I then received a WhatsApp message from the Armenian team as a result. It seems I was using the office WhatsApp number (which I had found in the address line of their previous emails to me), and not the private number of my contact, who apologized even more and said someone from their Kazakhstan office was coming to pick me up right away. It seems the office in Turkmenistan did not forward to Kazakhstan my new flight arrival information. Anyway, all is resolved and to compensate, they are giving me a free dinner tonight and reimbursing me for the transfer and last night's hotel that I had paid for. Driving from the airport to the hotel took a long time, mainly due to traffic, and it was definitely not the hotel on the tour website page. At least it is smoke free but rather reminiscent of an old Soviet hotel. In fact, the entire country uses Cyrillic writing, yet, if you ignore that, you might think you were in Canada with all the urban trees. The people and the cars are all modern of course but the buildings could be Canada in the 1950s. As for the people, well, I would describe them as Eurasian: a mixture of Asian features and, I suppose, white Russian. I think the language they speak is Kazakh but the instructions on the plane flying to Almaty were in Arabic, English, and Russian. The local tour office has just telephoned me via WhatsApp and apologized on their behalf. They said they never received my updated flight schedule and offered to recommend a restaurant for tonight. Perhaps a typical Kazakh restaurant, not too spicy but horse meat ... so I had to stop her there. I definitely don't eat horse meat. I suggested that the Kazakh team talk to the Armenian team since the Armenians offered to pay. In the end, they decided it would be best if I ate at the restaurant in my hotel, which saved on the time it would take for a car and driver to get to me (due to the bad traffic, they said). I saw they had an extensive menu with plenty of vegetarian options, so I happily agreed. The food was good once it came as the service was extremely slow. As it happened, I found myself sitting next to a table with two English-speakers, Australians from their accent, and after remarking on the wine one of them was drinking, I learned that they were from Brisbane ... and on my tour. We are nine in total, I was told: five Australians, two Brits, and two Canadians (though my compatriot was originally from Viet-Nam). They are all my generation or slightly older. Five women and four men. We will meet up all together tomorrow morning at 10 a.m. for a city tour of Almaty.

Wednesday, September 17: Almaty, Kazakhstan

Now for some information about Kazakhstan, a land-locked country in Central Asia with a portion in Eastern Europe. Russia is located to its north and west, China to its east, Kyrgyzstan to its southeast, and Turkmenistan to its southwest. It also has a coastline on the Caspian Sea. Its capital is Astana while its flag is a beautiful turquoise with emblems in yellow. The world's ninth largest country by land area and the largest land-locked country, it contains a population of 20.3 million, although it has one of the world's lowest population densities with fewer than six people per square kilometre. In the 13th century, it was subjugated by the Mongol Empire under Genghis Khan. After the 1917 Russian Revolution, it became an autonomous republic within the Soviet Union and was the last constituent republic of the Soviet Union to declare independence on December 16, 1991 during the dissolution of the USSR. As a reminder, in alphabetical order, the 15 states that formed the USSR were Armenia, Azerbaijan, Belarus, Estonia, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Latvia, Lithuania, Moldova, Russia, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, Ukraine, and Uzbekistan.

  

  

Kazakhstan dominates Central Asia economically and politically, accounting for 60% of the region's GDP, primarily through its oil and gas industry, although it also contains vast mineral resources. The word Kazakh (qazaq) is Turkic in origin and means free, independent, or wanderer. Geographically, the state extends both sides of the Ural River, which is considered the dividing line between Europe and Asia. Consequently, it is one of the two landlocked countries in the world containing territory in two continents, the other being Azerbaijan. Its area of 2.7 million km2 (1 million mi2) is equivalent to that of Western Europe. As of 2025, 71.3% of its population are ethnic Kazakhs while 14.6% are ethnic Russians. It is officially a bilingual country: according to the 2021 census, Kazakh is proficiently spoken by 80.1% while Russian is spoken by 83.7%. The latter language is used routinely in business, government, and inter-ethnic communication. However, only 63.4% of ethnic Kazakhs and 49.3% of the country's population are daily speakers of the Kazakh language, according to the same census. Islam is the largest religion in Kazakhstan followed by Eastern Orthodox Christianity. The adult literacy rate is 99.5% for men and women alike.

  

  

Our program today was to have a sightseeing tour around Almaty city, population circa 2.2 million, the largest metropolis of Kazakhstan and located in the foothills of the Trans-Ili Alatau mountain range. Talgar Peak, also known as Pik Talgar, at 4,979 metres (16,335 ft) is the highest point in the Trans-Ili Alatau range, a prominent part of the Northern Tien-Shan mountains visible from Almaty on a clear day. Up until 1997, Almaty was Kazakhstan's capital but now the more modern city of Astana has that privilege with a population of around 1.5 million. Almaty still remains a commercial and cultural centre. The name Almaty translates as the city of apple trees. Climbing into a large van, we met our young, photogenic Kazakhstan tour guide, Dara, seen in image number two for today. She told us she completed Kazakhstan's high school (a total of 11 years of schooling) and then went to university where she took four more years to study tourism.

  

  

Our first stop was Panfilov Park, with its yellow, Art Nouveau, Ascension Russian Orthodox Cathedral. Made of Tien Shan spruce and no nails, it is one of the world's tallest wooden buildings as well as the tallest Orthodox wooden church in the world at a height of 46m. The foundation stone was laid in 1903 and the building, completed within three years, was consecrated in 1907. It was one of the few buildings that withstood the devastating Kemin earthquake of 1911, which, with a magnitude of 8.0, killed 452 people and destroyed more than 770 buildings (almost the entire city). Taking a short walk further into the park, we came to the Memorial of Glory and the Eternal Flame. There were some Eurasian magpies here making a lot of noise.

  

  

I passed a tourist information kiosk and picked up a map on our short stroll toward what is known as Almaty's Green Bazaar, a marketplace that appeared here 100 years ago and still remains an important trading centre for the city. I bought a souvenir fridge magnet here and took photos of colourful fruit, spices, juices, various dried foodstuffs, cheese ... and meat, where the pièce de résistance was horse meat. To our surprise, there was no off-putting smell from any of the meat or offal (divided into sections by horse, cow, sheep, goat, etc.), nor were there any flies. The birds hanging around the market, particularly on the telephone wires, were Common Myna (Acridotheres tristis). Outside the market, there was a strong yet delicious smell of chocolate, and we learned there was a large chocolate factory here, called Rakhat, now taken over by the huge South Korea company, Lotte. Of course we had to buy some. It was very reasonably priced. By the way, Kazakh for thank you is rakmet, a phrase I used a lot today.

  

  

Returning to our vehicle, we were then driven to the bottom of a cable car that took us up to Green Hill (Kok Tobe), upon which lies a tall TV tower, called the Almaty Television Tower or simply Almaty Tower, a 371.5-metre-high (1,219 ft) steel television tower built between 1975 and 1983. Unlike other similar TV towers, it is not a concrete, but a steel tubular structure. Wikipedia claims that it is the tallest free-standing tubular steel structure in the world. Unfortunately, today was cloudy so the views of Almaty were a bit hazy. We visited a few statues here--including one of the Beatles--a tiny so-called zoo containing Cameroonian goats, an Australian ostrich, and African guinea fowl among others, but the draw to me here were two golden eagles, one of which was wearing a leather hood. I also visited one of the souvenir shops here and bought a t-shirt in the colours of the national flag. It was a short day for tourism (a 4-hour tour all told), so I retreated to my room after we were dropped back at our hotel, processed my photos, wrote up today's entry, and had a nap, thus missing dinner with the others.

  

  

Thursday, September 18: Almaty - Medeu - Shymbulak - Sunkar - Almaty, Kazakhstan

We left our hotel around 9:00 a.m. after breakfast, and took a walk around Almaty's downtown area so as to photograph murals, a map of the silk road in a metro station, and various huge, decorated apples (the symbol of this city). We then found our van again and drove to Medeu, an outdoor speed-skating rink at 1,691 metres above sea level. It consists of 10.5 thousand m2 of ice and uses a sophisticated freezing and watering system to ensure ice quality. Considered to be the world's largest high-mountain skating rink, it seats 10.5 thousand people, though a more recent reconstruction made the seats more comfortable, reducing seating capacity to 8,100. Over 120 World Records have been documented here in numerous sports, including speed skating. More recently, roller skating can be enjoyed here in the summer months. The aforementioned cable car system, opened in 2011, links the sports complex to the Shybulak ski resort via a series of three gondolas for a total distance of 4.5 km to about 2,200 metres in altitude. It was raining when we got onto the gondola so visibility through the windows was fairly difficult. Then, during the second gondola ride, it began to snow and settle on the ground. As our visibility was compromised, we turned back down to the middle level and had a simply wonderful lunch at Paul's, a French patisserie and boulangerie chain, which I vowed to visit again somewhere on our tour because I learned they were present in several of the Stans and Caucasus countries.

  

  

  

  

  

  

On our way back to Almaty, we stopped at a Falcon Farm in Sunkar, founded in 1989 with the purpose of preserving endangered birds of prey and releasing them into the wild. Here we were able to see and photograph various birds such as the Cinereous Vulture (Aegypius monachus), Himalayan Vulture (Gyps himalayensis), Lammergeier (Gypaetus barbatus), Eurasian Eagle-Owl (Bubo bubo), Eastern Imperial Eagle (Aquila heliaca), Steppe Eagle (Aquila nipalensis), Golden Eagles (Aquila chrysaetos), and Saker Falcons (Falco cherrug) in cages and then watch a show starring two Little Owls (Athene noctua), a Eurasian Eagle-Owl, a Saker Falcon, a Golden Eagle, a Himalayan Vulture, and a Lammergeir. It was presented by a very humorous German ornithologist, who was able to communicate in many languages, according to the audience, which came not only from anglophone countries but also encompassed French, German, Chinese, and Indian spectators. Upon our return to Almaty and our hotel, I bought my dinner from the local supermarket around the corner and ate it in my room.

  

  

  

  

  

  

 

Friday, September 19: Almaty - Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan

Checking out of the hotel after breakfast and piling into our van, we then had a long ride to the border (about four hours). We said good-bye to our young Kazakhstan guide and rolled our suitcases up various ramps and into the Kazakhstan police check, putting all our luggage through a scanner. One of our group was asked to open one of his scanned suitcases to explain all the medications he was carrying. Nonetheless, we all made it through and continued rolling our suitcases through a passageway and into the Kyrgyzstan police and border check. Once again, we all made it through with even less bother, and I entered country number 174 and UN country number 138 and met our guide for Kyrgyzstan, Olga, a somewhat more mature and more experienced guide with a lot of information to impart. She was quite enthusiastic and spoke very quickly. Her first act was to present us all with gifts from Kyrgyzstan, cashmere scarves for the ladies, and felt hats for the men, plus a map of the country in general for all of us (although not a city map). My first self-imposed duty, therefore, was to ask her how to say thank you in Kyrgyz: rakmat, thus very similar to the Kazakhstan word rakmet. It was a ride of about half an hour to Bishkek, but what we hadn't realized was that there was a time change between Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, so it was now 2ish, and we were hungry. It was decided we would go to a chain restaurant called Navat, but we stopped first at an exchange place to get some local currency called som. The ten of us sat at two tables, and the first table was served relatively quickly. Our table, however, was not, and the first table was already finished for a while before our pizzas even arrived. Not wanting to hold everybody up, I ate only half of my pizza and took the rest in a doggy bag for my dinner.

  

  

Perhaps as we pause to digest lunch, I will tell you a little bit about Kyrgyzstan, or more officially, the Kyrgyz Republic. It is yet another landlocked country in Central Asia and bordered by Kazakhstan to the north, Uzbekistan to the west, Tajikistan to the south, and China to the east and southeast. Bishkek is both its capital and its largest city with a little over 1.3 million inhabitants. Ethnic Kyrgyz make up the majority of the country's about 7.3 million people, followed by significant minorities of Uzbeks and Russians. Like Kazakhstan, its second language is Russian and Kyrgyz too is a Turkic language. Since it is located geographically within the mountainous region of Tian Shan, covering over 80% of the country, Kyrgyzstan is occasionally referred to as 'the Switzerland of Central Asia.' Also, like Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan was conquered by the Mongol Empire and later became part of the Russian Empire: in 1936, the Kirghiz Soviet Socialist Republic was formed to become a constituent republic of the Soviet Union. Following Mikhail Gorbachev's democratic reforms in the USSR, a president was elected in 1990, and on August 31, 1991, Kyrgyzstan declared independence from the USSR and established a democratic government. It then attained sovereignty as a nation state after the breakup of the Soviet Union in 1991.

  

  

There are many theories about the origin of the word Kyrgyz, which may mean 'forty tribes,' referring to the legendary hero, Manas, who united forty regional clans. The 40-ray sun on the national flag refers to those same forty tribes and the graphical element in the sun's centre depicts the wooden crown, called a tunduk, of a yurt--a portable dwelling traditionally used by nomads in the steppes of Central Asia. I will mention here that we were told by a later guide that forty in the ancient world (i.e. the many references to forty in the Bible, e.g. forty days and forty nights that Jesus was in the wilderness, the forty-day trip by Noah in his Ark, and in literature, e.g. Ali Baba and the forty thieves) merely means 'a large number.' Kyrgyzstan has significant deposits of metals including gold--ranking among the top countries in the world for its gold reserves, holding around 38 tons as of late 2024--and rare-earth metals. Kyrgyzstan was among the less economically developed republics of the former Soviet Union and is currently the second lowest in terms of income levels in Central Asia after Tajikistan. Twenty-two point four percent of the country's population lives below the poverty line. Islam is the dominant religion in Kyrgyzstan, and 90% of Kyrgyz are Muslim, although the country is a secular state.

  

  

Finally, resuming our sightseeing of Bishkek after the lunch fiasco, we decided to go straight onto the city tour and not check into our hotel as had been the original plan in light of the late hour and the fact that it would soon be sunset. Our first visit was to the market, and what a great experience it was as my photos will show. The first section we entered contained souvenirs, so I immediately bought a fridge magnet. Then we strolled through the dried fruit and nuts, candy, and spice stalls (where I bought some saffron), then the cheese, and finally the meat stalls (you will see large horse meat sausages among the photos here). Our van driver, Alexander, another Russian speaker, then drove us around the city centre until he found parking and we all alighted to visit various squares and monuments including Liberty Square, statues of historical inhabitants such as ballet dancers, writers, and musicians, a park, the theatre, various state buildings, and then the main Ala-Too Square with its statue of the aforementioned legendary figure, Manas, on a horse and some colourful fountains. Finally, walking past the court building, we ended up in a type of luna park for kids where Olga was encouraging us to try to the local ice cream, though none of us was hungry. Instead, we were quite tired as it had been a long day and just wanted to get to the hotel. Our hotel rooms were large, some of us having suites with extensive balconies, and it was in my room where I ate the other half of my pizza and made myself some tea as I processed my photos from today.

  

  

  

Saturday, September 20: Bishkek to Issyk Kul, Kyrgyzstan

Today we left Bishkek and after about two hours or so arrived at Burana Tower, a UNESCO World Heritage Site dating from the 10th to 14th centuries. “Burana has been identified as the medieval settlement of Balasagun ... founded in the early tenth century. The most noticeable structure at this site is the 'Burana' Tower, a medieval minaret made of fired brick. It dates from the late tenth century and is considered to be the earliest surviving minaret in Central Asia. Followers of Islam, Syro-Nestorianism, and Buddhism lived in Balasagun, which was an important stop on the Silk Road and a place of intercultural exchange. ... Though [the tower] once reached a height of around 45 metres, it now stands at 24 metres high. About a third of the minaret visible today was reconstructed in 1970-1974. The minaret is shaped like a tapered cylinder with an interior spiral staircase.” About half of us climbed the tower's 89 steps, but I found the inside ones difficult due to the lack of light and the fact that there were no hand rails so I basically had to climb up and down it facing the staircase and grabbing on to the steps above me with my hands whilst feeling the step height with my feet.

  

  

  

Standing in a field near Burana Tower was a collection of stone statues from the Chui Valley that date from the sixth to tenth centuries. Some of these stones contain petroglyphs while others possess male or female faces, as you will see here. The site also contained a museum displaying various artifacts, a yurt displaying felt art, and a little shop selling things. I bought a felt tea cosy at the latter. We then continued on the highway, stopping en route for lunch at a highway truck stop, where I photographed this White Wagtail (Motacilla alba). Our guide later pointed out a huge Kyrgyzstan flag painted on a mountainside and some colourful rainbow hills. Our destination was Issyk Kul, another stopover on the Silk Road (a land route for traders, merchants, and other travelers from the Far East to Europe). It is the eighth-deepest lake in the world, the eleventh-largest lake in the world by volume (although not in surface area), the deepest lake whose deepest point is above sea level (939 metres or 3,080 feet), the second-largest saline lake after the Caspian Sea, and the second largest mountain/alpine lake after Lake Titicaca in Peru. Although it is located at a lofty elevation of 1,607 metres (5,272 ft) and is subject to severe cold during the winter, it rarely freezes over due to high salinity, hence its name, which in the Kyrgyz language means 'warm lake.' At 182 km long and 60 km wide, it covers an area of 6,236 km2.

  

  

  

Although we drove along beside this huge lake for some time before arriving at our hotel, a resort on the lakeshore seemingly popular with Russians, we stopped again to enter an open air museum in Cholpon-Ata, consisting of 42 hectares dotted with stone circles, tombs, and a variety of petroglyphs, dating from the 2nd millennium B.C. up to the 4th century A.D.. Finally arriving at our hotel, I checked into my room and did some clothes washing. Then, I wandered down to the lake to walk along the pier with my camera and watch the sunset. I returned to my room, ate a croissant I had saved from breakfast, processed today's photos, and wrote up my entry for yesterday.

  

  

  

Sunday, September 21: Issyk Kul - Cholpon Ata - Grigorevka Gorge - Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan

This morning, after breakfast among Russian and possibly Japanese tourists, we checked out and headed to Grigorevka Gorge, the largest gorge on the northern coast of Issyk-Kul located on the Kungey Ala-Too mountain range about 30 km from Cholpon-Ata city on the road back to Bishkek. At our first stop after entering the gorge area, by a waterfall, we were met by a local with a hooded golden eagle, so I paid what he asked to have my photo taken with it and realized it was a lot lighter than the one I'd held on my thick-leather-gloved arm in Mongolia. We followed up the nonpaved road along a glacier-fed, rushing river, where roadworks were going on, and met a number of locals on horseback with dogs, spying yurts on the river side of the road and colourful outhouses on hills on the other side. The deciduous trees were changing colours, but the only wildlife we saw (apart from the horses, dogs, and cows you will see in my photos) were lots of crows, possibly eagles flying in the sky, and one or two beige-coloured squirrels with reddish ears, which I never did manage to photograph.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

We then returned to our previous hotel in Samarkand, but the security issue had by no means been fixed. What's more, the bolt on the room I was assigned to did not work, so I insisted on being given a new room. Another passenger, complaining about her room for another reason I have forgotten, was then given my boltless room. I don't know what the receptionists in charge of room assignment were thinking of when they did that. Moreover, we tested our room keys again and nothing had changed: they still opened all the rooms on our respective floors. We then sent our grievances to the travel company who had booked the hotel and were assured they would not use this hotel in the future for their tours.

  

  

  

  

Saturday, September 27: Samarkand to Bukhara, Uzbekistan

This morning at breakfast, I was trying to guess the flavour of the juice on offer. Up to now, all the juices we'd been presented with had tasted like watered-down prune juice. I wondered if it was apple since I'd seen lots of apple trees growing. Finally, I caught sight of one dining room staff pouring a container of juice into a dispenser and happened to glance at the picture on the tetra box. I remarked at that instant “Oh, it's peach juice not apple!” The staff member immediately remarked, “It's apricot, miss” I then thought to myself, “Ah, clearly, I Uzbekistan corrected!” Our day started with a visit to the Ulugbek observatory (and its attached museum), the largest in the East and built in the 1420s by the Timurid astronomer, Ulugh Beg, mentioned previously. Also a school of astronomy, it was constructed under the Timurid Empire and was the last of its kind from the Islamic Medieval period. The observatory was destroyed in 1449 and rediscovered in 1908. It contains a precisely scaled, versatile arc that could accurately measure the sun from the horizon, as well as the altitude of stars and planets, the duration of a year, the period of planets, and eclipses. Ulugh Beg's measurements of planets closely relate to today's measurements, proving the phenomenal accuracy of the device.

  

  

  

  

Before our visit to the museum and observatory, as we gathered in a square containing a statue of Ulugh Beg, a group of middle-aged women appeared. I surmised they were perhaps having a class reunion as they all looked about the same age. A younger person with them was photographing them. Seeing us also photographing them, they came over to get photographs of us and with us.

  

  

  

  

We next had a 5-hour drive to Bukhara, a town containing a large number of mosques, the tombs of many Islamic saints, significant religious places, and architectural masterpieces, stopping roughly mid-point for toilets and an outdoor restaurant where men were playing chess (locals, they chatted to me in German and Italian since they knew no English) and two rather attractive Chukar partridges (Alectoris chukar) were being kept in cages suspended from the ceiling. I felt rather sorry for the birds, although they seemed well cared for. I ordered a lovely vegetable soup in a vegetable broth (no meat and no meat fat for once). Before arriving at our hotel in Bukhara, passing fields upon fields of cotton-pickers picking cotton, we visited the summer palace of Emir Said Mir Mohammed Alim Khan, the last emir before the Soviet Union was created. Now a museum, it contains a lovely garden with unidentifiable small songbirds, peacocks, and mynahs, as well as dozens of handicraft stalls. The palace itself was impressive and elaborately decorated, reminding me somewhat of palaces I have visited in France.

  

  

  

  

After checking into our hotel down a bit of a dark alley, Shovcat gave us an orientation of the old town of Bukhara and then left us to our own devices. I wandered around among what seemed like hundreds of tourists, photographing, among other gems, statues of Nasreddin Hodja, a local legend hero of humorous short stories and satirical anecdotes, visiting the Bienniale exhibition, an art gallery, and a marionette museum, and finally met up for dinner with three others of our group by a man-made pond containing swans at a restaurant called Labi Hovuz. According to one display, we were located in a square formed by the Kukeldash Madrasah, the Divan-Begi Madrasah, and the Divan-Begi Khanaka, all grouped around the Nadir-Begi pond.

  

  

  

  

Sunday, September 28: Bukhara, Uzbekistan

Today was devoted to exploring Bukhara's historical religious buildings mostly on foot. The town was founded about 2,000 years ago and became the major centre of the Great Silk Road and the capital of the Samanids. Persian rulers improved the appearance of Bukhara, erecting beautiful palaces, tombs, caravanserais, madrasas, and mosques. We visited the following in this order, I think, though I couldn't swear to it as they all started looking similar after a while as fatigue set in: Samanid Mausoleum, Chashma Ayyub, Bolo Hauz Mosque, the Ark Fortress, Kalon Complex, Magoki Attori Mosque, Ulugbek and Abdulazizi Khan Madrasahs and the Lyabi-Khauz Ensemble I had seen yesterday evening. After the Chashma Ayub Mausoleum, we had a bit of a break including a market visit and a coffee place with toilets. The day then ended with an included dinner and show featuring musicians, a singer, dancing girls, and a fashion show in the Nodir Devon Begi Madrassah, which we'd seen from the outside yesterday evening.

  

To provide more detail, our bus first dropped us off at the Samanid Mausoleum, built in the 10th century A.D. as the resting place of the powerful and influential Islamic Samanid dynasty that ruled from approximately 900 to 1000 A.D. It contains three bodies, one of which is said to have been that of Nasr II. It is considered to be one of the iconic examples of early Islamic architecture and is known as the oldest funerary building of Central Asian architecture. The Samanids established de facto independence in Baghdad and ruled over parts of modern Afghanistan, Iran, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and Kazakhstan. It is the only surviving monument from the Samanid era. Miraculously, the building was buried in silt some centuries after its construction and was revealed during the 20th century via an archaeological excavation conducted under the USSR.

  

Regarding Chashmai Ayyub or Job's well, legend has it that Job of the Bible visited this place and made a well by striking the ground with his staff. The water in this well is still pure and is considered healing. It is also revered as a burial place, originally believed to contain the mausoleum of the Prophet Job. The site was constructed over several centuries, its oldest part dating back to the 12th century, although inscriptions from 1380 and the 16th century can also be found. Today, the building houses a historical museum dedicated to the history of the water supply in Bukhara.

  

Bolo Hauz Mosque was built in 1712 opposite the citadel of Ark in the Registan district and is registered as a UNESCO World Heritage Site along with other parts of the historic city. It served as a Friday Mosque when the Emir of Bukhara was being subjugated under the Bolshevik Russian rule in the 1920s.

  

The Ark is a massive fortress initially built and occupied around the 5th century A.D. Its current structure was begun during the 16th century, while its existing buildings were constructed during the last three centuries. In addition to being military in nature, the Ark encompassed a town inhabited by various royal courts that held sway over the region around Bukhara. It was used as a fortress until it fell to Russia in 1920. Currently, it houses museums such as an archaeological museum, throne room, reception and coronation court, a local history museum, and the court mosque. The perimeter of its external walls is 789.6 m (2,591 ft), enclosing 3.96 ha (9.8 acres). The height of its walls varies from 16 to 20 m (52 to 66 ft). By the way, Georgian for thank you is madlova and hello is gamarjova. I picked up two fridge magnets today, one with the word Georgia on it and the other with the word Sakartvelo. The latter name means the land of the Kartvelians (the Georgian people). As you may or may not know already (I didn't), Georgia has its own language, part of the Kartvelian language family and considered an isolated language because it has no provable links to any other language family. It evolved from a now-extinct, ancient language called Paleo-Caucasian. Its earliest written form, Old Georgian, emerged around the 5th century around the time Georgia adopted Christianity. It was during this time that the oldest writing system in the Caucasus region was developed and evolved into what is known as Medieval Georgian from the 12th to 18th centuries, while today's language is known as Modern Georgian and is based on the Kartlian dialect. The earliest Georgian script, called Asomtavruli, dates from the 5th century, while today's writing system, called Mkhedruli, emerged in the 10th century, and consists of 33 letters. Its speakers today amount to approximately 3.8 million. You will see some Georgian writing on the red baseball cap above.

  

And now for some more background about this country from Wikipedia. Georgia is located in the Caucasus region on the coast of the Black Sea at the intersection of Eastern Europe and West Asia. As a result, it is generally regarded as part of Europe. Bordered to the north and northeast by Russia, to the south by Türkiye and Armenia, and to the southeast by Azerbaijan, Georgia covers an area of 69,700 square kilometres (26,900 sq mi) and has a population of 3.9 million, of which over a third live in the capital and largest city, Tbilisi. The country is known for having the world's earliest known sites of winemaking, gold mining, and textiles. After the Russian Revolution in 1917, Georgia briefly emerged as an independent republic under German protection. However, the country was invaded and annexed by the Red Army in 1921. It then became one of the Soviet Union republics. In the 1980s, an independence movement grew, leading to Georgia's secession from the Soviet Union in April 1991. For much of the subsequent decade, the country endured economic crises, political instability, and secessionist wars. Following the peaceful Rose Revolution in 2003, Georgia strongly pursued a pro-Western foreign policy, introducing a series of reforms aimed at integration into the European Union and NATO. This Western orientation led to worsening relations with Russia, culminating in the Russo-Georgian War of 2008 and the continued Russian occupation of parts of Georgia. It is a developing country with a very high human development and an emerging market economy. Sweeping economic reforms since 2003 have resulted in one of the freest business climates in the world, greater economic freedom, and transparency, and among the fastest rates of GDP growth. In 2018, Georgia became the second country to legalize cannabis (after Uruguay--Canada was number four) and was the first former socialist state to do so. Georgia is an official candidate for membership in the European Union.

  

Friday, October 10: Tbilisi - Mtskheta - Tbilisi, Georgia

After breakfast, where we met and were polled by the tour company's Georgian representative (she wanted to know how the tour had gone so far and gave us half bottles of Georgian red wine as thank you gifts), we travelled to Mtskhet, Georgia's first capital from the 3rd century B.C. to the 5th century A.D. and considered the religious centre of Georgia. Our first stop was at Jvari Temple, yet another UNESCO World Heritage Site, located at the top of a hill via a switchback road, which offered us a fantastic view of the confluence of two rivers called Kura and Aragvia. We found horses here (and dogs) as well as pomegranate juice sellers and our first kiosks selling wine ice cream, which was purplish and, we were told, made only from red wine. It was far too early in the morning for me to try some, but a couple of people in our group did and said it was delicious. One of our lot even told me he'd enjoyed three cones of it during the day. Looking it up later, I read that it has a much lower alcohol content than regular wine (one would hope so!) at 2 to 5%. But getting back to the church, called the Mtskheta Church of Holy Cross (built between 586/7 and 604/5), it was a centre of pilgrimage for Christian nations in the Caucasus. At the beginning of the 4th century, the Enlightener of Georgia, St. Nino (after whom our guide was named) and the first Christian Georgian king, Mirian, erected a large wooden cross on this site. An adjoining chapel was erected in the second half of the sixth century. Driving downhill into the town, we visited Svetitskhoveli Cathedral from the 11th century, said to contain part of Christ's robe or mantel, which he was wearing prior to his crucifixion. It is considered one of the top four Great Cathedrals of the Georgian Orthodox world. We were obliged to walk through a souvenir market to reach the church and were tempted by its many wares, including these strings of dried fruits and nuts coated in a paste of grape juice and flour, a Georgian specialty.

  

  

  

  

  

After returning to Tbilisi, we were given free time at Meidan Square to find lunch and toilets, and in my case, to photograph a few murals and sculptures. I also purchased some items for today's supper at a supermarket. We then had a tour on foot of the old town, starting with a walk to Meidan underground bazaar, and then to a royal bath complex (from the 17th to 19th centuries) located on top of natural sulfur springs. We walked beside this river to a waterfall, crossing bridges laden with lovers' locks. We then continued to the Juma Mosque located on the Botanical Street, but did not go in, and past where we'd had lunch to enter Sioni church, which contains one of the greatest relics of Georgia, the cross of St. Patriarchate. Next, we walked over the glass Bridge of Peace, which stretches 150 metres (490 ft) over the Kura River and was designed by an Italian architect. Unable to take the cable car to the fortress as it was too windy, we ended our tour by climbing uphill to the statue of an ancient king, King Vakhtang Gorgasali, next to Metekhi Church, outside of which we saw two wedding couples and a couple of young man with a silver corvette. We then boarded our bus again and were driven past Liberty Square where a few more important buildings were pointed out to us and delivered to our hotel sometime after 5:00 pm.

  

  

  

 

Saturday, October 11: Tbilisi - Ananuri - Kazbegi - Gudauri - Gergeti - Tbilisi, Georgia

It was a very long travel day today because we journeyed both ways along the Georgian Military Road, described as one of the most beautiful mountain roads in the world. It is the historic name for a major, 212-kilometre (132-mile) route through the Caucasus from Tbilisi, Georgia to Vladikavkaz, Russia, and follows the traditional roadway used by invaders and traders throughout the ages. We drove past where we'd been yesterday, Georgia's historic capital, Mtskheta, to the medieval fortress of Ananuri, stopping en route for toilets and souvenirs, but mainly for some amazing views of the blue-green waters of the Zhinvali reservoir--a picturesque, artificial lake set against the backdrop of the Caucasus Mountains. Created in the 1980s as a vital source of drinking and irrigation water for Tbilisi, the reservoir provides water for nearly half Tbilisi's population. The fortress was founded in 1720 for defence purposes and contains ... of course ... a church. We then drove upward into the mountains to Gudauri, a resort considered one of the most popular ski destinations in Georgia, finally stopping at the jaw-dropping Russia-Georgia Friendship Monument, a large concrete, circular, structure beautifully bedecked by colourful murals depicting scenes of Georgian and Russian history and built in 1983 to commemorate relations between Soviet Georgia and Soviet Russia and the bicentennial of the Treaty of Georgievsk. The scenery around was stunning, as you will see in my photos.

  

  

We then journeyed through Jvari Pass, where the route reaches its maximum altitude of 2,379 metres (7,805 ft) and stopped for lunch at a restaurant in the settlement of Stepantsminda. Then, 10 kilometres away, we approached the border with Russia (one kilometre away) by visiting the modern Dariali Monastery in the Dariali Gorge, located at an altitude of 1,300 meters (4,265 feet) above sea level. Here we visited the church, the library and, most importantly, the winery, so as to taste Dariali red wines, Saperavi Qvevris and Khuanchkara. The latter, a slightly sweeter variety than the former, I preferred for its richness. Moreover, I was sold on the fact that it was a premium wine from a very small production winery preferred by Joseph Stalin and reportedly served at the Yalta conference in 1945 after the end of World War II. One wine cellar describes Saperavi Qvevris as follows: “Georgia is renowned for its unique, traditional method of winemaking using in-ground Qvevri clay pots. This 8,000-year-old ancient art is still used today and has been included in the UNESCO's List of World Cultural Heritage ... Very expressive nose of succulent plums and dark cherries with aromatic rosemary and basil undertones. Nicely rounded on the palate, well put together, polished with a great personality. Lingering finish.”

  

It was from the heights of this monastery that we were able to view the Georgian-Russian border ... or to be fair, the Georgian side. The Russian side, we were told, lay just around the corner through the hills. After visiting the monastery and making some purchases, we returned to Stepantsminda, changed over to 4x4s to avoid a steep 1.5-hour climb up the mountain, and drove up a winding road to Gergeti Trinity Church from the 14th century, situated at an altitude of 2,170 metres (7,120 ft) at the foot of Mount Kazbek, which unfortunately wasn't totally visible due to a pesky cloud. We were puzzled as to why we had been brought here for the church was covered in scaffolding, closed, and under renovation or repair. Perhaps it was solely for the views. I later read that its isolated location on top of a steep mountain surrounded by the vastness of nature has made it a symbol for Georgia. What's more, according to one 18th century Georgian author, in times of danger, precious relics from Mtskheta, including Saint Nino's Cross, were brought here for safekeeping. In addition, during the Soviet era, all religious services were prohibited, but the church remained a popular tourist destination. Luckily, I was able to use the squat toilets here, though I had to wait a while for a young monk to clean the women's cubicles. The drive back to Tbilisi was inconceivably long and, quite understandably, frustratingly lacking in sufficient toilet stops. Once again, we arrived back at our hotel after sunset and in the dark.

  

  

  

Sunday, October 12: Tbilisi - Kakheti - Telavi - Batonis Tsikhe - Tsindandali - Tbilisi, Georgia

This morning, we drove to the east of the country, to Kakheti, the main wine-making region of Georgia, passing seemingly endless numbers of vineyards. We stopped first in the village of Tsinandali, in the Kakheti region, and visited Tsinandali estate, the patrimony of the Georgian dynasty Chavchavadze, although due to the long drive, our first and primary concern was to use the estate's toilets! Besides the museum, for which we had been given a set entry time, the estate is known for its gardens of exotic trees as well as its cellars, where a unique collection of Georgian and European wine has been preserved. The estate is linked to the son of a diplomat and statesman, and godson of Catherine the Great, Prince Alexander Chavchavadze (1786-1846), who turned the house into a centre of cultural life in Georgia. The family was the first to produce European style wine and the first to encourage European classical music. The very first grand piano to arrive in Georgia is still on display in the museum. A young female museum staff member related to us the tragic stories of his offspring, pointing out their various portraits on the walls. We were then taken into the cellars to view bottles upon bottles of wine dating as far back as 1814. We were encouraged to find the collection for our birth years. Unfortunately, this collection of wine is undrinkable: it is very old, sports no labels, and is simply lying in racks and covered with thick dust. A portrait of Prince Alexander Chavchavadze can be seen below.

  

After eating lunch at a sandwich place in Telavi, we visited the Batonis Tsikhe fortress museum of Georgian King Erekle II, or Heraclius II, seen below in paintings at age 15 and then later, the seemingly beloved and much accomplished king of Kakheti from 1744 to 1762, and of Kartli-Kakheti from 1762 until his death in 1798. Included in the tour was the room in which he had both been born and died in a house containing stain glass windows, the like of which we had seen at the Sheki Khans' summer palace in Shekhi, Azerbaijan. Along with the usual archeological, ethnographic, and iconographic material, battle equipment and memorabilia in the adjoining museum, there were a couple of rooms filled with lovely paintings. One of them below depicts Georgia's female king, Tamar the Great (c. 1160 - 1213) who reigned from 1184 to 1213. Due to her having achieved many political, military, and cultural successes as well as to her role as a female ruler, she is idealized and romanticized in Georgian arts and historical memory and remains an important symbol in Georgian popular culture.

  

At the end of the day, we were given a tour around a large commercial winery called Khareba, for a wine tasting of two unspectacular wines, a white and a red, and then invited to join in making Georgia's national bread, shoti, and the aforementioned national candy called churchkhela, a string of walnut halves, dipped in grape juice thickened with flour called tatara or phelamushi, and dried in the sun. We then returned to Tbilisi utterly exhausted and feeling frankly that the day had been a bit wasted as there had been a great deal of hanging around. For instance, many of us felt that the last visit with wine tasting and bread and candy making could have been skipped. Since this particular winery had been overrun with other tourists--hence all the waiting around--we had much preferred our private wine tasting at Dariali Monastery yesterday.

  

Monday, October 13: Tbilisi - Sadakhlo (border town) - Goshavank - Dilijan - Sevan - Yerevan, Armenia

After breakfast, we were driven straight to the Georgian-Armenian border at Sadakhlo, saying good-bye to Nino (shown below inside the border building) and hello to Ani, our guide in Armenia (country number 180 and UN country number 144), where thank you is merci or schnorrakaluzun and hello is barev. The crossing wasn't too painful compared to some of the ones we've had to endure. Thank goodness it would be our last border crossing on this trip. Our drive took us through some gorgeous autumn colours and up mountains. At an early stage in our journey, Ani pointed out the two flags of Armenia and Azerbaijan at the controversial (and closed) border. I later discovered that the borders of Armenia, Azerbaijan, and Georgia meet at a tripoint near the northernmost point of the Armenia-Azerbaijan border and the westernmost point of the Georgia-Azerbaijan border. This area includes the region around the Papakar Heights, where the three countries' borders converge. While the Armenia-Georgia and Georgia-Azerbaijan borders are open for travel, the Armenia-Azerbaijan border is not open for travel in this area, and land borders between Azerbaijan and Armenia remain officially closed for entry.

  

We eventually arrived in the town of Gosh (Gosh, yes!) in the Tavush region, where we visited the historic Goshavank Monastery (yet another monastery) from the 12th to 13th centuries. Goshavank, which has remained in relatively good condition, also houses one of the world's finest examples of a khachkar. What is a khachkar? I hear you ask. Well, it's a carved, memorial stele of a cross on top of a rosette or solar disk (or ball as I see it) and often with additional motifs such as leaves, grapes, pomegranates, and bands of interlace characteristic of medieval Christian Armenian art. No two are alike and their symbolism and craftsmanship are inscribed in the UNESCO list of Intangible Cultural Heritage. Most early khachkars were erected to save the soul of a living or deceased person. Others were intended to commemorate a military victory or a church construction or to protect people from natural disasters. The most common location for early khachkars was in a graveyard. We were told we would be seeing many throughout our tour in Armenia. But I digress because the most memorable event here was meeting and getting to talk to the local monk or priest through the interpretations of Ani. Seen here in the long black robe and long grey beard, he is what I would describe as a gentle soul, with such a soothing voice. In fact, one of our two British-Australian women passengers, both of whom are agnostic or atheist, I can't remember which, was quite overcome and gladly accepted a soothing religious hug from him. We were all quite moved by the experience.

  

Our journey then continued to the so-called resort town of Dilijan, apparently known for its arts and crafts, lush green landscapes, and fresh, healing air. Not able to explore this town, we nonetheless had yet another very late, but delicious lunch at a B&B, which was heavy on the meat. The painting below was photographed here. We then traveled to Gegharkunik Province, the location of Lake Sevan, one of the highest freshwater lakes in Eurasia, which at an altitude of 1,900 metres above sea level, is the largest body of water in both Armenia and the Caucasus region. The total surface area of its basin is about 5,000 km2 (1,900 mi2), which makes up one sixth of Armenia's territory. The lake itself is 1,242 km2 (480 mi2), and the volume is 32.8 km3 (7.9 mi3). It is fed by 28 rivers and streams. Only 10% of the incoming water is drained by the Hrazdan River, while the remaining 90% evaporates. A medieval monastery can be found on its peninsula, which used to be an island. During the Soviet period, Lake Sevan was heavily exploited to irrigate the Ararat plain and generate hydroelectric power. As a consequence, its water level decreased by around 20 m (66 ft) and its volume was reduced by more than 40%. Later, two tunnels were built to divert water from highland rivers, which halted its decline and its level began rising. Before human intervention dramatically changed the lake's ecosystem, the lake was at an altitude of 1,916 m (6,286 ft) above sea level, 95 m (312 ft) deep, covered an area of 1,416 km2 (547 mi2) (5% of Armenia's entire area), and had a volume of 58.5 km3 (14.0 mi3). We only drove by the lake, however, and did not stop to take photographs of it as it was getting late. To entertain us, Ani played us samples of Armenian music, including Aram Khachaturian's Sabre Dance, Charles Aznavour's She, and Cher's Believe, and reminded us that the father of the infamous Armenian-American family, the Kardashians, Robert Kardashian Sr., was the son of Armenian-American parents who emigrated to America after the Armenian Genocide (more about this below). We finally arrived in Yerevan rather late--after sunset again--and checked into our final hotel on a noisy main street.

 

Tuesday, October 14: Yerevan City Tour - Echmiadzin - Yerevan, Armenia

The Republic of Armenia, a landlocked country in the South Caucasus region, is generally considered European geopolitically speaking but West Asian geographically speaking and is bordered by Türkiye to the west, Georgia to the north, Azerbaijan to the east, and Iran and the Azerbaijani exclave of Nakhchivan to the south. Yerevan is its capital, largest city, and financial centre. The Armenian Apostolic Church is the world's oldest national church and the country's primary religious establishment. The country's economy is primarily based on industry and mineral extraction. Together with Soviet Georgia and Soviet Azerbaijan, Armenia officially entered the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics in March 1922 and then became officially independent from it on September 21, 1991 following a national referendum. This vote was held after Armenia declared sovereignty on August 23, 1990 and was solidified by the dissolution of the Soviet Union on December 26, 1991.

  

Armenia's territory is 29,743 square kilometres (11,484 sq mi), mostly mountainous with fast flowing rivers and few forests. The land rises to 4,090 metres (13,419 feet) above sea level at Mount Aragats, and at no point is it below 390 metres (1,280 ft) above sea level. On average, the country is the tenth highest in the world with 85.9% of it is mountainous--more than Switzerland or Nepal. Mount Ararat, which was historically part of Armenia, is the highest mountain in the region. Now located in Türkiye, but clearly visible from Armenia, it is regarded by the Armenians as a symbol of their land. Because of this, the mountain is present on the Armenian national emblem today. I remember seeing Mount Ararat first from the Turkish side in 1992 when I was overlanding for six months around India and then through West Asia with a British outfit called Dragoman. We were standing on a hilltop and the guide was pointing out to us a darkened frame shape on the snow up high. He swore it was the remains of Noah's Ark in the very spot where it had rested once the flood waters had receded.

  

  

Like Georgians, Armenians have their own distinct alphabet and language. Their alphabet was invented in c. 405 A.D. by Saint Mesrop Mashtots and consists of thirty-nine letters, three of which were added during the Cilician period. It looks completely different from the Georgian language (see above). The Armenian language is the sole member of an independent branch in the Indo-European language family. Historically spoken in the Armenian highlands, the language is also widely spoken throughout the Armenian diaspora, with the estimated number of Armenian speakers worldwide between five and seven million. I will add here that I am now the proud owner of a t-shirt containing the letters of the Armenian alphabet.

  

Today, after admiring and photographing Mount Ararat from our hotel's breakfast room, we toured around Yerevan, the ancient capital of Armenia, founded in 782 B.C.--29 years before Rome, which was founded in 753 B.C. To start things off, we visited the Matenadaran Institute, or officially, the Mesrop Mashtots Institute of Ancient Manuscripts, a research institute and the world's largest repository of Armenian manuscripts. It was established in 1959, but its collection has gradually expanded thanks to individual donations. Named after Mesrop Mashtots, the inventor of the Armenian alphabet (see above), whose statue stands in front of the building, its collection is included in the register of the UNESCO Memory of the World program. There were a number of very impressive colourful manuscripts (not only Armenian but also Hebrew, Persian, and Ethiopian among others) to admire and photograph. We then walked from there to the Cascade building, containing five main terraces connected by flights of stairs and internal escalators. The total length of the complex is approximately 302 meters, with 572 steps and its garden contains sculptures from various countries, including three by Colombian artist, Fernando Botero, reminding me of the time I had visited an entire Botero exhibition in Rome in 2017. I also recognized Laughing Man by Chinese artist Yue Minjun because a similar work of his A-maze-ing Laughter exists in Morton Park near English Bay, Vancouver, B.C. Canada. This installation, which features 14 laughing figures, was part of the 2009 Vancouver Biennale before becoming a permanent fixture in 2012. The yellow Buddha-like figures on tall poles (Google is unable to tell me the artist's name) reminded me of the seven I had seen back in June in Andorra la Vella, the capital and largest city of Andorra. I also photographed some interesting insects I hadn't seen before which were using long proboscises to suck the nectar out of the flowers seen here. After some research, I discovered they were hummingbird hawk-moths (Macroglossum stellatarum).

  

  

We then passed by the Opera and Ballet Theater on our way to the Genocide Memorial and Museum, a sad and solemn reminder of the first genocide of the 20th century. I was speechless as I walked through this very-well-thought-out museum. There was far too much to read but the photographs were graphic and hard-hitting. I left in tears. According to information I found on Wikipedia, the outbreak of World War I led to confrontation between the Ottoman Empire and the Russian Empire in the Caucasus and Persian campaigns. The new government in Istanbul began to look on the Armenians with distrust and suspicion all because the Imperial Russian Army contained a contingent of Armenian volunteers. On April 24, 1915, Armenian intellectuals were arrested by Ottoman authorities and, with the introduction of the Tehcir Law (Temporary Law of Deportation signed on May 29, 1915), eventually a large proportion of Armenians living in Anatolia perished in what has become known as the Armenian genocide. It was implemented in two phases: the massacre of able-bodied males and the subjection of army conscripts to forced labour, and then the deportation of women, children, the elderly, and infirmed on death marches toward the Syrian desert. Driven forward by military escorts, the deportees were deprived of food and water and subjected to periodic robbery, rape, and massacre. The events of 1915 to 1917 are regarded by Armenians and the vast majority of Western historians to have been state-sponsored mass killings, or genocide, yet to this day Turkish authorities deny that the genocide ever took place. Nevertheless, it is acknowledged to have been one of the first modern genocides. It is estimated that 600,000 Armenians died during deportation between 1915 and 1916. This figure, however, only accounts for the first year of the genocide and doesn't take into account those who died or were killed after the report was compiled on May 24, 1916. The International Association of Genocide Scholars places the death toll at more than a million, while the total number of people killed has been more widely estimated at between 1 and 1.5 million. Armenia and the Armenian diaspora have been campaigning for official recognition of the events as genocide for over 30 years.

  

As I later read over some of the texts I had photographed from the museum, I noticed a common theme in that perhaps international silence about the Armenian Genocide at the time led to the Jewish Holocaust as well as the later genocides in Rwanda, Bangladesh, Cambodia, not to mention the extermination of indigenous peoples in North, Central, and South America, genocidal acts in the former Yugoslavia and violence in other countries such as Darfur and more. But I must tear myself away from this emotional reflection and return to describing our tour.

  

We next headed to the town of Echmiadzin, where we first had lunch at a food court and then visited the religious centre of all Armenians worldwide, and which, at the adoption of Christianity in 301 A.D., was one of the first Christian cathedrals in the world. Echmiadzin Cathedral is the seat of the Supreme Patriarch of the Catholics of all Armenians and contains an important religious relic: the tip of the spear that pierced the side of Jesus during the crucifixion. According to Armenian tradition, the Apostle Thaddeus brought this relic to Armenia in the 1st century. It used to be housed at the monastery that became known as Geghardavank, or Monastery of the Spear, but is now kept in the museum of the Mother See of Holy Etchmiadzin. Unfortunately, it wasn't visible to us because it was locked up in the closed museum. In 2000, the church complex was listed as a UNESCO site. During our time there, a baptism or two were going on at various buildings in the complex as well as visits by school children. In any case, there was a great deal to photograph. Our final visit of the day was to Zvartnots temple, a 7th century UNESCO World Heritage Site now lying in ruins, supposedly due to an earthquake. At this site, wedding photos of a couple of newlyweds were being taken. I also photographed these two hooded crows and yet another Eurasian magpie here. We were then driven back to our hotel in rush hour traffic and arrived around 7:00 p.m.

  

 

Wednesday, October 15: Yerevan - Khor Virap - Noravank - Yerevan, Armenia

The day began with a drive to Ararat Province, where one of the holiest sites in Armenia, Khor Virap Monastery, proudly stands. After stopping for photos of Mount Ararat--a snow-capped and dormant compound volcano in easternmost Türkiye--and the monastery from various strategic spots, most likely used by postcard photographers as it was so photogenic, where a woman was making local green-herbed bread and souvenirs were available for purchase, we climbed up a small hill to explore the monastery and enjoyed a breathtaking view of the border with Türkiye. We were told by our guide that the word Ar in Armenia, Aragats, and Ararat was an Aramaic name for the creator (but there seems to be no relation to Arafat). In Armenian, the two peaks (volcanic cones) of Mount Ararat are called Sis (Lesser) and Masis (Greater). Greater Ararat is the highest peak in Türkiye and the Armenian highlands with an elevation of 5,137 m (16,854 ft), while Lesser Ararat's elevation is 3,896 m (12,782 ft). In total, the mountain is about 35 km (22 mi) wide at the ground. In Europe, the mountain has been called Ararat ever since the Middle Ages when it began to be identified with what was described in the Bible as the resting place of Noah's Ark (see Genesis 8:4).

  

  

  

  

North of Yerevan, Mount Aragats, an isolated four-peaked volcano massif, is the highest mountain in Armenia but not as high as Ararat. Its northern summit, at 4,090 m (13,420 ft) above sea level, is the highest point of the Lesser Caucasus and Armenia. The circumference of the massif is around 200 km (120 mi) and covers an area of 6,000 km2 (2,300 sq mi) or around one fifth of Armenia's total area; 944 km2 (364 sq mi) of the massif is located above 2,000 m (6,600 ft). We were told that a certain type of leopard (Panthera pardus tulliana), a critically endangered big cat, exists in the region but there appear to be no descendants of the two giraffes or the two elephants depicted in typical pictures of Noah's ark. I haven't mentioned much about the monastery here, but you can probably gather that my favourite photos for this site are of the greatly whiskered man. He was selling icons and other religious paraphernalia in the church!

  

  

  

  

Our tour then continued through a narrow canyon to the valley of red rocks, where Noravank Monastery, built in the 13th and 14th centuries and containing two churches (Surb Astvatsatsin Church and Surb Karapet Church), is located. A number of khachkars, also known as cross-tones, were scattered about. My photo of the priest below made me wonder if God had cell phone service up in Heaven to make it easier for priests to communicate with Him. I was also fascinated by the beam of light coming into the church from the ceiling. We had lunch in a refectory here accompanied by a lovely red ArMas wine from the Areni region, through which we drove and saw a cave where they had found artifacts of wine being made here 4,000 years ago. We then returned to Yerevan, arriving at our hotel at a decent hour (5ish) for once.

  

  

  

  

  

Thursday, October 16: Yerevan - Geghard - Garni - Yerevan, Armenia

Today we drove about an hour to the Canyon of the Azat River to visit the Geghard Monastery, carved into the rocks of surrounding cliffs. According to a panel in the monastery grounds, “the exact date of the founding of the monastery is unknown but pre-Christians worshiped at springs at the site, particularly one inside a cave [which I visited]... At its height in the 13th century, [the] Geghard monastery benefited from patronage by princely families and was a pilgrimage site, not least for its reliquaries of the Holy Lance, the spear used by a Roman soldier to pierce the crucified Christ [as mentioned above in yesterday's entry, allegedly brought to Armenia by Apostle Jude, called here Thaddeus, stored amongst many other relics, and now displayed in the Echmiadzin treasury]. This reliquary gave the monastery its current name Geghardavank (Monastery of the Spear). Another relic was a wooden fragment said to have been a piece of Noah's Ark. The monastery was sacked by Mongols and later Timurids, destroyed in 1127, 1679, and 1840 earthquakes, rebuilt in succeeding centuries, and [served] as a summer residence for succeeding Catholicos” (the name for heads of certain churches in some Eastern Christian traditions). Some of the churches within the monastery complex are entirely dug out of the cliff rocks, others are little more than caves, while others still are elaborate structures with both architecturally complex walled sections and rooms deep inside the cliff. I tested out the gorgeous acoustics of one burial chamber by singing, although the only tune that came to me at the time was Oh Canada! On our entry to the monastery up a steep road, locals were selling flat, round bread and the colourful sheets you see in the first photo here, which I gather was fruit leather although the locals call it fruit lavash. There were a number of cats and dogs (and of course birds) around, and at one point I could hear musicians playing.

  

  

We then visited Garni village, known for Garni temple, the only surviving example of Hellenistic architecture in the region, where I photographed these butterflies: Pea Blue (Lampides boeticus, which is the light brown one, European Common Blue (Polyommatus icarus), the blue one, and Brown Argus (Aricia agestis, the orange one. The Garni Temple with Ionic columns is the best-known structure and symbol of pre-Christian Armenia. It has been described as the easternmost building of the Greco-Roman world and the only largely preserved Hellenistic building in the former Soviet Union. It is conventionally identified as a pagan temple built by King Tiridates I in the first century AD as a temple to the sun god Mihr (Mithra). It collapsed in a 1679 earthquake, but many of its fragments remained on site. Renewed interest in the 19th century led to excavations in the early and mid-20th century and it was reconstructed between 1969 and 1975. Located at 1,400 m (4,600 ft) above sea level, the temple is at the edge of a triangular promontory rising above the ravine of the Azat River and the Gegham mountains, which was well worth photographing.

  

Back in Yerevan, we were dropped of at the central Republic Square and released to find our own lunch. I happily walked to Paul's, the French bakery and cafe I had fallen in love with in Almaty at the beginning of our Five Stans Tour. Unfortunately, to my disappointment, this Armenian version was not up to the standard of the one in Kazakhstan. We then all met up again for a tour of the History Museum of Armenia, the main historical museum of the country known for its Archaeological, Numismatic, and Ethnographic collections. I was relieved to know that it would be our last museum and walked around it on my own, interested to note several religious ornaments and the clothing of bishops.

  

After being dropped off at our hotel and given time to wash and change, we walked as a group about a half hour in the dark, downhill to the Yerevan Tavern, where we had our final dinner accompanied by mature singers and musicians as we were debriefed about our trip by two of Arara Tour's senior managers. Watching the entertainment of tunes all in a minor key, we commented on the huge puffed-out cheeks of the two woodwind players, wondering, particularly in one case, if it was a case of a facial deformity. I looked up this phenomenon later and found it is quite normal actually. It can be due to a lack of muscle control or a collapsed embouchure (both doubtful in this case as they were clearly experienced musicians), or a deliberate attempt to create a larger cavity of air for special effects such as playing low notes on large instruments (although these instruments were not large). I read that experienced players may also puff their cheeks for advanced manoeuvres like circular breathing, which I decided was the case here. Apparently, puffing out the cheeks can increase the volume of the mouth, which acts as a resonator. Circular breathing, on the other hand, requires storing air in the cheeks while breathing in through the nose. The cheeks are used to puff air into the instrument, allowing the player to maintain a continuous sound. You will no doubt see what I mean in the final photograph for this entry. After a long, enjoyable evening, we took a taxi back to our hotel, and I packed my bags for my final airplane rides home.

  

Friday, October 17: Yerevan, Armenia to Vancouver, B.C., Canada via Frankfurt, Germany

I managed to sleep for about an hour before my alarm woke me up, urging me into the shower and downstairs to check out of my hotel and be picked up by a private taxi at 1:30 a.m. to go to Yerevan's airport. I checked into my two flights and sat in the business lounge as the guest of another passenger on our tour until it was time to board my first flight to Frankfurt during which, as there was no seat-back entertainment and no food or drink with the exception of water, I mostly slept. In Frankfurt, thanks to my new 50K status, I was able to use Air Canada's Maple Leaf lounge, so I enjoyed breakfast there and eventually boarded my flight to Vancouver during which I napped, watched a few movies, and enjoyed a nice meal, and then later, a snack. I arrived home without any incident but full of memories. I had had no preconceptions of any of the countries I visited on this tour or indeed their long histories and was frankly surprised to find so many tourists in what I had thought were fairly remote and not much visited places. I was also surprisingly delighted to find such architectural and natural treasures everywhere, in addition to many photographic opportunities of both people and fauna. Will I go back to any of these countries again? Perhaps not as I still have 49 UN countries to go ... in addition to a few non-UN members.

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