The restaurant bill
Sevanvank is the monastery that lies at a short distance from the town of Sevan, on a promontory that was once an island, but now the receding lake uncovered a strip of land that joins it to the shore. From the top the view over the pretty little church and the lake behind is superb. The eyes encompass from as far as the southern shore, a blue horizon fantastically all made of liquid, to its northern end, where the dry mountains reflect magically in the water. The isolation of the monastery in the middle of this huge high-altitude lake must have been sublime when the water level used to be 20 meters higher. Luckily, after the inconsiderate policies of the past the authorities have thought better, and thanks to the diversion of water courses the level of the water is rising again.
I realise now that I'm writing how much hitch-hiking was essential for the success of my trip in Armenia. With only public transport, which is often rare or non-existent, it would have been impossible to reach not only the monasteries tucked away in the mountains, but sometimes even make logical connections between two points of my itinerary. And whenever it was feasible and I felt like it, if hitchhiking was not working, I walked. A friend had warned me that without joining organised tours or hiring a driver I wouldn't have been able to reach many places of interest. Well, I am proud to say, at the end, that I had just relied on my own resources. For good or worse.
Mt. Aragats is now Armenia's highest mountain, at least if we refer to what is nowadays political Armenia. Because every Armenian's heart is clear that their country's highest and dearest mountain is Ararat, long lost to Turkey, but still watching over Yerevan from just off the border. With over 5,000 m of elevation it couldn't be otherwise: impossible to miss, its perennial snows glitter incredibly white from the perfect cone that can be admired from the muggy plain or the hot city.
The valley of Alaverdi is a crucial way of communication between Armenia and Georgia, crossed by a highway and a railway, and marked by the presence of a huge mining plant. Industrial structures and chimneystacks are found near the river, some of which look abandoned. A rocky crag up in the mountains gives out a flow of white smoke as if the furnace down below was connected to it by an invisible underground vent. From the bottom of the valley you can reach the bigger part of Alaverdi perched on a slightly sloping ledge by means of an old cableway that travels exasperatingly slow because of security concerns after the plant suffered a breakdown time ago. Very encouraging.
The mists around the top of Mt. Aragats had dispersed by the early afternoon, but after eating the meat and drinking the vodka I could only hope to be still able to put one foot in front of the other. Moreover, the boys and the father were going to drive home in their jeep and they would drop me at the turning to the ruins of Amberd. I would have still about 6 km to walk.