Good morning, good afternoon and good evening readers,

Today I completed my second solo adventure. It’s been a while since the first and I needed some good old fashioned alone time. I felt like the achievements of my last trip were beginning to wear off and I needed a little Vodafone Top-Up. So, I headed off into town to start the commute to Garni and Gerhard.

It all started on Abovyan street as I waited for the bus numbers that Trip Advisor had told me to wait for. Well, guess what. Apart from one, of which I wasn’t sure about, those buses didn’t turn up, absolute classic. But I suppose you only need one bus right? I get the number 9 up the hill and to Gai bus station. Now, when you are told to go to a bus station in Armenia, you must always remember that it is not what it seems. I expected to see lots of bus stops, lots of big buses and a waiting room. Armenia is all like, erm how bout no. I walk up and down the street looking puzzled and then think sod it, let’s ask someone! I go to a guy and say in Armenian “I want to go to Garni, what bus?” He points down the road. I walk down the road and ask another guy “Garni marshutka?”. He points right at a tree. Well I’ll be damned, who knew this tree was a bus station. Armenia is the master of disguise. The bus takes AGES to arrive which is actually unusual for here. There is no strict timetabling system but at least they are frequent. The bus arrives and we all jump on. I’m near the back of the queue but I shuffle my way in. There are a few empty seats, but it turns out they are reserved for their friends who are slow coaches at the back. You’ve gotta be kidding me. I stand proud ready to face the thirty-minute journey with my neck cranked at a horrible angle. Everything is fine until we get to the next stop and two very large ladies get on the bus. At this moment there is literally no room for the smallest person, let alone them. That’s not me being rude, it’s just the truth. They squeeze themselves in despite this obvious factor and I am pushed into the back of the bus. Deciding that they obviously need more room their side, they push a cardboard box into my shin. I float in a squatted crouching position with the cardboard piercing my leg and forcing my arms out in a thriller like stance just to keep balance. One of them looks at me and then laughs. OH yeah well funny love, good one, cheers, great, thanks, top banana. My sweaty leg is literally soaking the woman behind me. I apologise and her face says, “don’t worry girl, I get it.” I spend twenty minutes like this and then eventually arrive at Garni. Halleh-fucking-luyah.

At the entrance I ask for one ticket in Armenian and they charge me the price for an Armenian. I hand them more money and he says “no, no you are Armenian”. I respond with a laugh and say “no, no I am English. I pay more.” I’m very flattered, my pronunciation must have been on point. The temple is very beautiful of course, but the canyon is even more so. It reminded me of a wild west film with it’s dramatic sand coloured edges. I sit in the shade for five minutes and observe every crevice.

Afterwards I jump in a taxi and set off for Gerhard. The taxi driver waits for me and doesn’t even take any money before I leave. What a trusting guy. I have a little look around. It’s pretty nice, standard Armenian church really. There is a weird pool and stream inside that everyone is going mad over. It must be some special water. Once again the surrounding scenery is far more beautiful for me to observe. I take some pictures and head back to the taxi.

On our way back to Garni the driver sees the bus for Yerevan and stops in front of it. I get out, get in and I’m on my way back to the city.

What surprised me the most on this trip was that I had no anxiety, no worries and felt no panic. Of course before hand I was thinking up of a million excuses as to why I couldn’t possibly go on that day. But that all faded quickly. I asked people for help in Armenian, didn’t feel self-conscious when walking around and was really able to enjoy the time on my own. I was god damn proud of myself to be honest. I think I’m going to have to create a new ladder of fear because this one just ain’t scaring me no more. I’m going to have to bottle this feeling up and send it to Diesel because this trip to Armenia is for “Only the Brave”. Word.

In kindness,
C x