On Lake Sevan

Filed under: Notes From Hairenik — Tags: — Christian Garbis @ 11:25 am August 30, 2009


It is said that Lake Sevan, located about 50 kilometers north of Yerevan, is the second highest body of water above sea level in the world, at an altitude of 1,900 meters (or 6,233 feet). The air here in the Gegharkunik region is certainly thinner than in the city and naturally, incomparably cleaner. In the sun much of the lake appears teal blue in color, and depending on the beach you visit the water is crystal clear.

This year has been an unlucky one for summer vacationers in Armenia because of a persistent cold spell, which only becomes milder rather than dissipating altogether. Then it gains strength once again bringing torrential rains along with it. The cycle repeats over and over—a most unusual summer. Thus, Sevan’s waters are not as warm as they ordinarily are for this time of year. Mornings and early evenings tend to be breezy, but the winds are very light, almost caressing.

The Tufenkian Avan Marak Tsapatagh hotel seems to be on the surface chiefly constructed of stone, wood and steel. Even the furniture is made of steel with a gun-metal finish. The entire place has a rustic, rugged and worn feel, with the stone walls and smooth brick floors. A hardwood bench topped with hand sewn cushions wraps around the corner of the front and right-side walls of the double rooms. The colors chosen for the décor are all earth tones—wheat, walnut, roasted red chili, pine, dark plum and wet clay. The shower area is completely lined with blocks of stone that are colored varying hues of green. The spray of the invigorating shower is wide under high pressure, and yields a warm feeling of solace in its wake. The evening lighting complements the décor—mellow and unobtrusive. It is also an eco-friendly hotel, with a sign in the bathroom asking guests to reuse towels, soft fluorescent lighting illuminating the corridors and solar heating panels affixed to the roofs.

In my previous post I declared that the Tufenkian hotels scattered mostly across the northern regions of Armenia were the best in the country. This quiet, tranquil resort, perched on an incline about 500 meters from the shores of Lake Sevan, is proof positive of that. As a special promotional offer, Anush and I stayed there for two nights at a rate of 28,000 dram per day, including three meals, and took advantage of the amenities it offers, such as a private beach, swimming pool, hot tub and sauna. With the exceptional, hospitable service, divine comfort and scrumptious meals, it simply cannot be beat.


Tsapatagh along with other nearby villages on the northeast side of Sevan are lined with tall poplar trees, which provide the ideal windbreak. The garden of each home seems to be overrun with fruit trees and garden crops of some kind. Apple trees thrive in this climate. Some sour cherry and plum trees are also found. There are also patches of cabbage and sunflowers in some gardens. A shepherd sets his sheep out to pasture in the field laced with tiny wildflowers to the left of the hotel. There are rare species of birds in this particular area of varying sizes and plumage. It seems that certain birds tend to thrive in their own special environments, depending on where you go in Armenia you will see unique birds that you have not run across elsewhere, even 20 kilometers away from a particular location.



There is an excellent, expansive view of Sevan—to the right is the Shorja peninsula and on the left side is the shoreline of the far south. It appears as if the entire length of the lake is in full view, and with your outstretched arms you can symbolically embrace it. Also in magnificent sight is the Geghama mountain range, on the other side of which lies the Ararat valley. On a clear day when you gaze out on the lake from the viewpoint of the village you can see the miniature summits of mighty Mount Aragats on the horizon.

The best way to enjoy Lake Sevan is to avoid the tourist areas and trendy beaches, all of which are located on the northwest end of the lake, known as Pokr Sevan, or Small Sevan. These places are primarily located in the vicinity of Sevanavank, the two ancient churches perched on the hill there. But remember that in the off-season there are very few people there—it’s virtually deserted, so it’s best to see the monastery in the spring or autumn. Travel round the lake at the village of Dzovakyugh. If you drive another five or 10 kilometers on that road you will find plenty of accommodating rest areas, some of them including cottages, and clean beaches frequented by less people. Once beach I recommend is called Sojiner. Along the beach is a tiny forest of pine trees, in which picnic tables are provided. Walk 50 feet to the shoreline and take a swim in the near pristine water. You won’t find hardly any litter there.

It should be mandatory that all visitors to Armenia go to Sevan. From Yerevan it’s only a 45 minute-long drive. There’s really no excuse not to see the lake at least once in a lifetime.




Photos by Christian Garbis

Panoramic view of Republic Square in Yerevan

Filed under: Cosmopolite's Blog — Tags: — Mira @ 8:56 pm August 28, 2009
Today is the 28th of August. I can't believe it. The summer passed so quickly. People wait for it for 9 months and voils-it's over. But I don't complain about it because autumn and winter are my favorite seasons. Though this summer wasn't very-very hot and it's quite  strange for Armenia.

Now I want to resume the results of this summer. It was amazing. In fact, I didn't expect it to be so wonderful. Maybe I haven't gone anywhere for a very long time, maybe I was never interested in Paris, but... A month has already passed but in my thoughts I'm still there.

Yesterday I saw a film called "Head in the Clouds". It was a beautiful film. I admired Charlize Theron and Penelope Cruz. I suggest that everyone see it.

And today I was in the center and took a 180-degree panoramic photo of the Republic Square. Voila 

Four Armenian women on bikes in Georgia

Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: — Adrineh @ 7:15 pm August 24, 2009

Thought of the day

Filed under: Le Retour — Tags: — Adrineh @ 6:46 pm August 23, 2009

The French Lieutenant’s Woman

Filed under: Cosmopolite's Blog — Tags: — Mira @ 11:18 pm August 21, 2009


Two days of this week I spent reading one of the most notable books I have ever read. It is called "The French Lieutenatant's Woman". The author of this  wonderful book is John Fowles-an English writer. As for me, he's become one of the greatest representatives of 20th century literuture. Abour two years ago I read his "The Collector". It tells a about a butterfly-collector who abducted a girl. He kept her in his house, in a small room, away from the town and people, where there were no windows. I think it's not my cup of tea describing such masterpieces but I advise everyone to read "The Collector" because thefeelings are presented greatly.

About the book which is the main topic in my article I would like to say that when I was reading it I was very excited. It is interesting, but ... ebook has about 350 pages and the story was over on page 250. I thought I was going to read some thoughts. But then it turned out that  the story  had other ending (even endings). It seems to me that author gives us a chance to make our own choice. 

The book tells us about the life of a young nobleman who is going to marry a young, rich, pretty girl. But shу doesn't understand him and only laughs at his hobby. Then he meets an enigmatic girl, Sarah, who is considered to be The French Lieutenant’s Woman. As time goes by he falls in love with her but it's impossible for them to be together. If you want to know why, you should read  this book. When I finished reading it I had a shock. I didn't expect such a dénouement. Also the author criticises Victorian era.

The place described in book: Cobb ( pictures from Wikipedia)

In Lori

Filed under: Notes From Hairenik — Tags: — Christian Garbis @ 2:52 pm

The steep hills of northern Lori are carpeted with rich, pristine forests of oak, maple, walnut and countless other deciduous species. Rivers and seasonal rains in tandem help irrigate the soil and provide the proper conditions for regeneration. The farther north you drive, so little the landscape changes. The hills turn into mountains of modest heights. On top of them may be flat, grassy plateaus laced with wildflowers.  The road that leads north cuts through a narrow valley that only expands in earnest in Alaverdi. If you decide to continue your journey toward the Georgian frontier the hills gradually become lower, but they ascend upward in the distance in a wavy pattern that induces a feeling of tranquility upon the beholder. Lori is a paradise for any lover of nature, particularly of thick, thriving forests.

Indeed, I have visited few places in Armenia that have given me such peace and warmth as northern Lori. To get there you must travel through Vanadzor via Spitak or optionally Dilijan, although that route is longer. The stretch of road from Yerevan to Spitak through Aragatsotn is a two-lane highway which has some bends and deceptive crooks but is more or less wavy, with some straightway sections of road. Once you cross the Lori border, however, you enter a new world of valleys and seemingly endless slopes. The road that descends towards Jrashen and onwards to Spitak has a few hairpin curves but the scenery is breathtaking, especially in winter when the hills are blanketed with snow. For nearly 50 minutes you drive just below the base of the magnificent Mount Aragats crowned with four peaks on your left. You will pass through several Yezidi villages along the way, namely Ria Taza, Alakyaz and Jamshlu. The plains of Aragatsotn just north of Aparan are expansive and nearly seem endless, until you drive another 10 kilometers and the landscape transforms. Most of the ride is a wavy, twisting journey as is the case anywhere you venture in Armenia, save for the Ararat valley, which is the flattest area of land in the entire country.

Even in the midst of summer Lori can be quite cool. Then again, this year’s summer months have been quite unusual to say the least. Yerevan has been haunted with rains and chilly evenings for months, as if the spring never ceased. The air in Lori is never still, there are always lovely, inviting breezes to flirt with you, they manage to entice a smile from the roughest looking visitor.

Our destination was the “Lori Rest House,” which is located not far from Vahakni in the obscure village of Shahali. Anush had been there twice before and recommended that we stay there, which I was enthusiastic about doing. To get there while driving north towards Alaverdi we turned right at a sign marked “Gugark Children’s Camp” to cross a short bridge over the Debed River. Having past the camp’s entrance on our left we continued along this steady uphill road, which was for the most part eroded and at some places very rough going. After about three kilometers we arrived at the compound, a five-story “rest house,” which is a leftover Soviet term for a modest, no-frills hotel. The place was completely surrounded by steep forested slopes. There were all sorts of trees in the area, some of which must have been deliberately planted. One tree on the grounds resembled a Japanese maple for instance. The river Dzoraket runs through the area, and the climate was very humid, although not as high as it is down in Meghri. The place was simply gorgeous, and as soon as I arrived I was inclined to stay for days. The rooms were small but clean, unpretentious with bare walls, and two narrow separate beds. The bathroom was in immaculate condition, as the place was recently renovated. I couldn’t manage to join the beds for my wife and I to sleep together because of their awkward design and their sturdy wood construction. Shortly we arrived I crashed for about 30 minutes having been intoxicated by the fresh, fragrant air. It makes you drowsy periodically throughout the day and the frequent need to nap is futile to resist.  We laid down together snugly on one of the beds without turning up the wool blanket which was folded lengthwise. By evening I realized that the bedding was reeking with the pungent stench of mold. It wasn’t until I was actually trying to sleep that I gathered how strong it was, it was deep-rooted in the bedding. The smell kept me awake, so I was obliged to hit the carpeted floor wearing jeans and a light cotton sweater to keep warm with a folded towel under my head. The next morning we persuaded the housekeeper to show us another room across the hall, but although the blanket and bedding seemed odor free, the box spring thoroughly smelled musty. It is with much regret that we couldn’t stay there longer simply because my allergies could not cope. In the presence of mold my sinuses start to fill up and my throat feels like it is closing ever so slightly.

The “Lori Rest House” is a wonderful place to relax—there are no tourists and virtually no “rabiz” people there to spoil your spirits. One person pays 8,000 dram a night ($22), and the price includes three meals. Unfortunately, we alone, apart from the other guests that didn’t seem to number more than 50 in total, were unlucky with the accommodations, otherwise we would have stayed there for several days. Despite my experience I recommend the “Lori Rest House,” but with reservations.

A word of caution—if you have an aversion to mold, ensure that the bedding of any hotel you visit in Lori smells fresh. Unfold then shake out the blanket and sniff the pillow as well as the mattress for any hint of must before you pay for the room. The Armenian term for “humid” (pronounced khonav) seems to take precedence over the word for “mold” (borbos) from my experiences.  Someone may try to convince you that the room is just humid, and firing up a portable, yet highly dangerous electric cooking plate that they will provide for a few minutes will solve the problem. No one wants to admit that their furnishings are musty, I suppose. But no matter where you go, you’re bound to run into mustiness of some degree—just make sure that the scent is not overpowering.



When we reached the main road we made a left and headed back in the direction of Vanadzor to visit the “Anush” restaurant and motel, located just outside the village of Vahaknadzor. I stopped there with Anushig and her friend Lilit on a day trip last year for lunch while on our way to visit the Sanahin and Haghpat monasteries. One of the travel books that I have, given to me last year by someone visiting Armenia, mentioned that the place offered rooms. There are four units available, constructed in a loft architectural style, so the sitting room and large outdoor balcony is on the first floor while the bedroom and bathroom are on the second, accessible by a wooden spiral staircase. The conditions were more or less the same as those of the rest house—clean, cozy and well kept, but with a bit more pizzazz and a discernable homey feeling. These parts of Lori however do have their fair share of spiders, so you may find one waiting in his web in a corner of the room or by the window. This seems to be a normal expectation, it should not be considered a sign of uncleanliness. It is considered bad luck to kill or chase out spiders from a home, which explains their presence. Even in my own apartment I don’t dare to get rid of them. 

The “Anush” motel is perched just above the Debed River, which is only about 100 feet or so below. The sound of crashing water is very soothing, and it lulls you to sleep after only a few minutes. At times with the slight humidity and light breezes I felt as if I was by the seaside. The view of the forested hills that seem to roll on forever is spectacular. The cost is 10,000 dram ($27) for the unit, excluding meals. You can order tasty food from the restaurant and enjoy it from your balcony if you wish, but the restaurant is literally 10 feet away and you will have virtually the same view if you dine on the veranda. You will eat very well there, expect superb meals and friendly service.

During your stay in a modest hotel, do not expect to have fantastic, soothing showers. Often the experience makes you feel like Inspector Clouseau while you fumbling about looking for a place for your toiletries, trying to find the right amount of hot water to stand under or figuring out why the water is trickling from the showerhead. If sandals are provided do not use them, there’s no telling how infested with fungus they are. Take one of the dozen cellophane bags that you have unwittingly managed to collect during your journey, rip it lengthwise and lay it on the tile floor to stand on.  It is not unusual to find a shower nozzle hanging by an aluminum-coiled hose from the sink in the bathroom that you are expected to use successfully. If you are fortunate there will be a clip on the wall where you can fasten the shower nozzle while the lukewarm (or hot if you are lucky) water dribbles on your head. The water drainage can be an issue as well—expect lingering puddles on the floor that you cannot soak up because there is no mop provided.

Finding a place that serves breakfast is always a predicament in Armenia, even in the capital. Although the “Anush” motel is literally three feet away from the restaurant, you cannot eat a meal there before 1:00 pm at the earliest. A place a few kilometers down the road that oddly advertises both apples and meals on its signs is no longer in business. We then decided to try the Tufenkian Avan Dzoraket hotel, which was not too far away. There we were fed like royalty, with several breakfast meals to select from, along with cheeses, cold meats, farm-fresh yoghurt, walnut preserves, coffee and juice included. The omelet portions that we were served were quite generous and very satisfying. Although the meal cost 3,000 dram per person it was well worth it, considering the high quality not to mention abundance of the food and the professional, courteous service.


If you are fascinated by the construction and architecture of Armenian churches, especially those built on top of rocky ledges or high up in the forested hills where it seems no tuf or basalt stone used for erecting them is within reach, and wonder what the interior might once have looked like, go to Akhtala. The Amaras complex, which consists of the fortress constructed in the 10th century, and the Akhtala Church of the Holy Madonna, or Surb Astvadzadzin in Armenian, is located about 15 or 20 kilometers north of Alaverdi. Akhtala is not only special because of its architectural triumph, perhaps even more important is the fact that the original frescos painted on all of the interior walls when it was constructed in the 13th century remain in remarkable condition. The paintings virtually cover the entire walls, all the way to the top where they meet the ceiling, on which signs of damage from the elements are clearly evident. The portraits of saints and stories from the Bible that are all depicted on the walls are very good or else in excellent condition when taking into consideration how old they are, and the technical skill of the artist is remarkable. Remember that these illustrations were made before the times of Giotto, the pre-Renaissance Italian master of fresco painting, but the skillfulness employed by the painter in Akhtala arguably rivals his work. Nevertheless, perhaps that should best be left to art historians to determine.

There’s only a few churches in which frescos are still visible, one of them being in Meghri, also quite magnificent, and another in Kobair, which is also in Lori but there is no paved road leading to it. I noticed that there was no Armenian at all written anywhere inside Akhtala, even the tombstones, on which Georgian and Russian script was legible. The caretaker told me that in those times it was an accepted practice to use Greek when printing passages from the bible on the walls or any text for that matter. 

I will only say a few words about the Haghpat, Sanahin and Odzun monasteries since so much has already been documented about them, especially the first two. Simply put, they are sublime, exquisite masterpieces of architecture, artistry and faith that any visitor to Lori must make a point of seeing. It would be a sin to not frequent any one of those sites, as they are truly amazing spectacles to behold. Find and chat with the priest at Odzun, an inspiring, spiritual man in his late twenties who is dedicated to the preservation and restoration of the church and the surrounding compound.

After leaving Lori we decided to drive through Tavush for a short while. We had a nice light meal of tomato and cucumber salad and a tasty, deep-fried ring of thin river fish reminiscent of sprats at the Getap restaurant situated on the road leading from Dilijan to Ijevan, where you can sit outdoors, riverside. Service is a bit slow there so expect to take a long lunch.  Then we traveled onward to Ijevan, a sleepy town where streets are lined with tall coniferous trees. In the center of town is a great open market that was once more charismatic than it was when we visited there. The vendors there sell all sorts of grapes and abundant produce grown in the area.

Then back in Dilijan we stopped in the new Tufenkian compound where an inn and several shops are located. The price they quoted for a room accommodating two people was 40,000 dram, very high considering that you can stay at their Lake Sevan resort for around 28,000 dram per night with three meals included.  We were pondering to stay in Dilijan for the night but decided against it, believing that going to Tsakhadzor would be a better option. Although plenty of hotels are available with rooms for around 10,000 to 15,000 dram per night there as special off-season rates (Tsakhadzor is a winter resort town) we wanted to stay someplace on the cheaper side. If you don’t mind quaint, rather bland, unpretentious lodging, try the Painters’ Guest Home in the middle of town. It is a two-story green house located on the right corner where Charents Street joins the main square. We were shown a room on the second floor that was fairly large but overcrowded with furniture. The shower was fairly decent, certainly the best that we had during our journey. But the room itself was a bit dark and drab. All things considered, it was not all that bad at only 8,000 dram per night for a couple.

One last point about small, affordable hotels—they are not necessarily 100 percent dust free. Housekeepers, despite the availability of vacuum machines and other modern cleaning devices, are obliged to clean the old-fashioned way—using a straw broom gathered and tied by an old women in the village, a small dustpan, and an old, damp rag wrapped around the T-shaped end of a long wooden handle. The only explanation I can think of for continuing to employ these methods is that hotel owners do not see the necessity to invest in more efficient procedures of housecleaning. Needless to say, these implemented cleaning tools are not very effective at all. Also, wiping dust from furniture and window sills and removing grime like smashed mosquitoes off tiled bathroom walls are accomplished infrequently for some unknown reason. Based on my experiences of the last four days, this seems to be the norm. I am assuming that cleaning practices are a bit more detail-oriented in higher-priced hotels, but I am not certain. I will say, however, that the Tufenkian chain of hotels and resorts is top-notch and you will certainly not find any lack of cleanliness issues there. They are perhaps the best lodging establishments that you can stay in throughout Armenia. 

When in Armenia, take a couple of days to explore the wonderful sights, smells and nuances that Lori has to offer. They will be indelible experiences that you will cherish for a lifetime. Incidentally, apart from Lori, I also prefer the south, particularly the magical region of Syunik. Kapan has a rather nice hotel in the center of town alongside the river to stay in. Goris is a gorgeous place to visit but I have yet to spend the night there. Just be sure to stay out of Yerevan as often as you can possibly manage to truly absorb and appreciate what Armenia is really all about.


Photos by me and Anushig.

Bastille Day in France

Filed under: Cosmopolite's Blog — Tags: — Mira @ 6:43 pm August 16, 2009

As you know July the 14th is a national holiday in France. It is a day when the storming of the Bastille took place. Now there is Place de la Bastille. It is a square in Paris, where the Bastille prison stood until the storming of the revolutionaries. Now there is a monument here-the July Column. Here is it

Near this monument you can see Bastille Opera which is the largest opera house in the world. But after Opera Garnier or Grand Opera I didn't like it. It is made of glass

Voila, Grand Opera. Enjoy!!! 

OK. And now about the day of the fete. We as usual started early in the morning. The weather was very good. Sunny, warm and a lot of people outdoors. We started in boulevards Saint Germain, Saint Michel, then Ile de la Cite, Ile StLouis, then again Boul Mich, Place de la Sorbonne, Boulevard Saint Jacques and only after that we went along River Seine to Pont Alma- it's bridge where one can see eternal flame over a tunnel where Princess Diana was killed in a car accident. 

Finally we came to Pont de l'Alma and sat just on the bridge(the orange line is our way)I guess there were 5000 or even more people there. It was uforgettable. You could hear any language, from French to Russian, Armenian(we), Italian, Spanish, Japanese, Arabic, English, Portuguese and so on. At 22.30 the firework show started. It lasted about 40 minutes. Here are the photos. In the center is the Eiffel Tower. There were moments when it seemed that it was going to fall down, and the sparkles made believe that it was crumbling to dust. 

When the show was over all the crowd (!!!)went to Metro but it was closed and the police sent everyone to Arc de Triomphe because it was the nearest open Metro station. When we got home it was 1 a.m. But it was really great!!!

Armenian Farmers and Vendors

Filed under: Notes From Hairenik — Tags: — Christian Garbis @ 9:29 am August 14, 2009
The Armenian Weekly has published an article I wrote about the plight facing farmers in Armenia as well as the hardships that fruit and vegetable vendors have to endure day in and day out. Here are two excerpts:

The expenses associated with farming have skyrocketed in recent years. The price of a 50-kilo load of fertilizer virtually doubled from 4,000 dram in 2008 to 8,000 dram this year. Electricity, which is essential for farmers pumping water from artesian wells, has also increased since last year from 25 dram to 30 dram per kilowatt. The cost of water has gone up by approximately 30 percent. And to have one hectare of land tilled with a hired plow, a farmer is obliged to pay up to 45,000 dram for the job.

There have been times when local governing authorities have put pressure on Virab by extorting bribes.

“They would shut off my electricity and cut off the water supply, so I’d pay them off to keep going,” he said. “The government doesn’t let you work, they don’t want to see you take more for what you’re giving to the land, for what you’re producing while breaking your back, for your own livelihood. They want a slice of the pie, too.”

***

In Yerevan, Mgo sells mostly peppers, onions and, especially, cucumbers, piled in four rows about two-feet long at his stand behind the Gomidas Street market. The fruit and vegetable merchants sell their produce in the lot behind the building, which is now used mainly by vendors selling various products made of dried fruit.

The Russian cucumber variety sells for 300 dram—or 81 cents at the current 370 dram-to dollar exchange rate— which Mgo buys for 180 dram. The Armenian sort that he buys at 350 dram from a village nearby Etchmiadzin sells for 400 dram. He insists that it is top quality.

“Business is very bad this year,” he says while frowning. “It’s due to the bad weather. This year there weren’t many cucumbers. I’m managing but barely.”

Anahit sells various vegetables along the sidewalk in front of the Gomidas market. Whenever anyone walks by she entices them to buy her eggplants, tomatoes, and peppers, all of them plump, fully ripe, and glistening.

“I buy tomatoes for 150 and I sell them for 200. Cucumbers that I buy for 250 I sell for 300,” she says disappointedly. “By the end of the day I’m left with between 2,000 and 3,000 dram in my pocket, that’s all. It’s tough.”

I have yet to meet any rich farmers in Armenia. Virab seems to be doing well for himself quite honestly with a two-story home that he built himself in the village from tuf stone surrounded by a lovely garden full of fruit trees. That home lies behind the one his father built decades ago, which will be razed soon. The yogurt his wife produces is amazing, they offered me delicious tan to drink when I visited them. And the homemade cheese is also very good incidentally. But he's in debt as are many other Armenian farmers, if not all of them. If the money lenders suddenly decide to recall their loans he will undoubtedly face some serious financial problems.

Already money is scarce as it is, despite what you may be reading in the news about foreign loans entering Armenia to be redistributed to businesses. Yerevan banks are simply not lending, despite advertisements for five to seven year loans being offered at a ludicrous annual rate of 15 percent. I don't know who is actually benefiting from the money that is supposedly being made available--I am assuming people with connections with bankers and to people connected to the government somehow are seeing it. I can't say that there is any way of knowing for certain what's actually transpiring in Armenia's financial sector.

If anyone is feeling the crisis crunch in Armenia due to the worldwide economic slowdown, it is the farmers and vendors, without a doubt. Farmers will take a huge loss in profits this year because it simply costs too much to work the land. Seed has also gone up in price along with fertilizer and general day-to-day operational costs. And the produce is cheap, there's very little to show for their efforts. I mean, how is it possible that you can buy a kilo of tomatoes in the summer for less than 50 cents five years ongoing--actually even longer--when the cost of living keeps going up and up each year? There's no logic. And the government doesn't seem to care.

Հայաստանի Ազգային գրադարան

Filed under: Մի օր.... — Tags: — christina @ 3:32 am August 12, 2009

10 years…

Filed under: Life probabilities — Tags: — Ely @ 12:04 am August 10, 2009


“I’m losing her. We rarely talk. I mean REALLY talk. I don’t event recall when was the last time we laughed together”. He looked lost and sad. He looked like a man, who struggled to get back what was impossible to bring back…and deep inside he knew that too. 
They were sitting in the pub and drinking beer. That’s what they did every Friday after work in the past 15 years. They’ve been best friends and supported each other in all bumpy times. This was yet another bump one of them was trying to overcome…

“ Nothing is as it has been before… I don’t even remember when we went out together. Yesterday I found the printed e mail messages, which he wrote the first month we started dating. 10 years have passed since then and unfortunately I have the feeling that much more than years have passed…”. Her eyes were becoming wet and she was hugging her favorite pillow. Her best friend was far away and she used skype to pour out her problems, thoughts and worries in foreign language, which these days did not feel foreign to her at all… 

“The sad thing is that your situation is much better than many others. These days many don’t even have the luck of staying together for so long. Most of them shout, break dishes and move apart with a baggage of insults, hatred and tears” his friend was trying to help, although he knew how impossible it was. In fact he was one of those with the heavy baggage himself.

The screen showed the worried face of her friend. She was silent for a while, then she left and came back with an album.
 “Hey, please look here….” And the screen showed their photos from different parties, their past careless lives and happy faces. 
“Do you know what was the most important thing I learned from you then?” She had no idea, so she waited for the answer.
“You told once that if there is something worth fighting for, then it’s the love. That’s the only thing which makes you feel alive. Of course you were fighting for the wrong guy back then, but I think you were right” 
She smiled through tears. Even then she had been very romantic. And no matter how things turned she still is… though with less enthusiasm these days.

Men paid and left the pub. It was fresh air outside and the light rain was gifting its small drops. In short it was his favorite weather. He decided to walk, so they parted next to his friend’s car.

He was walking, breathing the fresh air and in his thoughts getting back to 10 years ago. He recalled them kissing under the rain in his old red car, he recalled when and where she kissed him for the first time and what kind of look she had in her eyes, when he told that they had to part. Then he thought of how many things he would miss if back then she would have not protested and they had parted. 

After she switched off the computer she went back to swim in her memories. “Fighting for love”, she smiled to herself thinking how smart she had been in her 19s. Maybe much smarter than she is now… She recalled how she “fought for her love” when out of nowhere, just when she thought all was perfect, he came and looking very serious and convincing told that they had to break up.

What if she agreed and moved away then? What kind of life would she have? She thought, recalled and felt… and at some stage she lost the sense of time and was back in the “10 years before” again. Once she got there she felt how much she’s missing him. She even felt the pain of longing for that passionate, honest, somehow strange and very sensual guy from “10 years ago”.

She opened a bottle of beer, started drinking it straight from the bottle and cried with a second wave. That’s what she loved doing most these days…drinking beer and crying…

He was walking home faster with each step. He hoped she wasn’t asleep by the time he gets back. He missed her. Missed the girl she was when they met for the first time, missed the woman she has become after those 10 years… he suddenly realized how close she was, how “his” and how irreplaceable…  

She went to the balcony and stand there watching the stars… She already knew what to wish for in case one of them falls. 

On his way back he stopped by a cyber café, where mostly teenagers were stuck in social networks, hugged by the illusion of what they longed for. He took a computer, received different strange looks and typed his e mail log in and password. He opened a message window and started typing everything he felt and thought of. He wrote for half an hour and without even reading, he typed her address in “To” field and pushed “send” button. With victorious face he paid and left the zombies.

The star fell and she immediately thought of her wish…

Something made her get back to the computer. She decided to check her mail and see if her friend had already sent her the photos she showed in their skype conversation, as promised. There was only 1 new message in her inbox and it was from him… He hadn’t written to him since 10 years already… strange.

She opened the message and started reading. She read and cried… The message reminded her of his messages which were 10 years old already. The wish was granted by the star…they were back to the times when it all started and their feelings were back too…

She jumped from the door bell. She went to open the door.

He was standing with the same boyish look in his eyes. She opened the door and fell into his arms. He held her tight and felt exactly the same he felt in his old red car….
 

   

J’adore Paris

Filed under: Cosmopolite's Blog — Tags: — Mira @ 10:39 pm August 2, 2009
The first impression wasn't good enough. We drove through StDenis, the poorest and the most dangerous place in Paris. I wanted back to Prague. The next morning we went out and as soon as I went out of the metro and saw Boulevard Saint Michel... my eyes didn't know which side to watch and camera went crazy. I hadn't bought my guide yet so we didn't know where to go. We just went along Boul'Mich and suddenly, when I turned my head to  the right I cried... there was Notre Dame de Paris...  I couldn't believe my eyes. After so many photos and books I saw it in real. But we took some photos by Saint michel fountain, bought a guide and started our loooong hiking tour.

Then we saw all Cité: Conciergerie, Sainte Chapelle,

Palais de Justice, Pont Neuf, Marche aux Fleurs. In spite of world crisis there were thousands of tourists there. 

An hour later I saw Sorbonne. I guess it is the most beautiful university in the world. i dream of learning there. On that day the students got their diplomas and they were walking in Place de la Sorbonne. 

The next day we were again in Quartier Latin. We saw Jardin and Palais du Luxembourg built for Marie de Medicis. 

The itinerary of the second day also included: Saint Sulpice, Pantheon,Saint Germain des Pres, Boul Mich, Boulevard Saint Germain, Tour Eiffel and Bateau Mouche. The last one is a ship for  tourists over Seine with audioguides. I made a dream when we were passing under Pont(bridge) Marie. Now when I remember it I want to go there again and again. 

My unforgettable journey!!! Day First

Filed under: Cosmopolite's Blog — Tags: — Mira @ 10:08 pm
Hello!!! Finally, I can write about my journey which was really incredible. On the way to Paris we organized a short walking tour in Prague. We saw the center of this beautiful town. I loved their Staromestka square greatly. It's difficult to believe that people live in these houses. 

Also we admired Zolotoy Orloj. Its show was quite interesting and though it was early in the morning (9 am) there were lots of tourists who came to see the performance. Here is the famous clock

Then we walked to the Charles bridge and went to Pražský Hrad. The view over the city from there was impressive. Then we saw the St Vitus's Cathedral in Gothic style.  But we had no time and we couldn't stand a long queue to enter it. Everything was very well and we enjoyed it. I thought that I didn't want to go to Paris but I didn't know that I would fall in love with that city, the city where I would like to live. 

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