Yerevan is nice. Thus Armenia’s capital city is dammed by faint praise. It’s difficult to find fault in the immaculately clean streets and plentiful parks and trees that any city need to smooth its harsh edges. Its stylish residents enjoying their espressos would not appear out of place in southern Europe. So whats the problem? A look at the night-time celebrations for the city’s 2795th birthday may give a clue. Such a ripe old age for a city is indeed…
If there was ever a total give away that you were in a dictatorship, it’s the profusion of huge images of one man around every town. If it’s a woman, it’s not a dictatorship. The twist here is that the images are of Heydar Aliyev, the deceased father of current president Ilham, as if his divine grace bestows legitimacy to the son. Although neither of them are up to Saddam Hussein’s standards you can be sure that none of those…
Of the three Caucasus countries, it’s Georgia which seems to be credited with a great tradition of hospitality and it is by no means unfriendly. It isn’t even in the same league however, as Azerbaijan. Many people are genuinely interested in greeting foreigners and don’t let the language chasm between us impede their generosity. Not once in Georgia did a local initiate a conversation upon making eye contact in the street, even with my habit of saying hello to all…
Baku old town is everything any decent, respectable tourist could ask for: a UNESCO world heritage site with nice old buildings, impeccably clean narrow winding streets and posh cafes. I am not however, a decent, respectable tourist and the more I walked around the less I liked it. Objects protected as if in glass cases are fine for museums but a town needs life, soul and vitality. This was a sterile exhibit, stripped of its context and interaction with humanity….
High up on cliff faces and on desolate hills are the caves that for centuries Georgian monks hid themselves away in to be closer to God, undisturbed by the comings and goings of everyday life and the temptations of man. These days their seclusion is rather diminished by the troops of tourists marching past in search of a slice of Georgian history, but at least it keeps the coffers full. Evidently the revenue streams of the good old days were…
Tqemali is a cold accompaniment to meals when a soury tang is required (goes well with Kofte kebabs I found) and I have interpreted as best I can Mediko Gvetadze’s recipe, which she dishes up in her wonderful homestay in Kutaisi. Unlike some culinary fascists who insist on there being only one way of doing a dish she was happy to say that plums can be wholly or partially substituted with apples, red/black grapes or pomegranates and quantities can suit…
The old man’s face, rosy with the glow of alcoholism broke into a big smile as he saluted in greeting, then clasped his hands in a prayer like display of welcome and promptly dragged me into the cellar. Immediately a traditional drinking horn of wine was thrust into my hands, his stream of speech easily outpacing my mental dictionary of a dozen words in Georgian, but I grasped enough to say, “English” back to him. Effusive but unintelligible praise of…
Ladies and gentlemen I bring grave news from the Caucasus. Drawn by the sounds of hellish screams that any sensible person would instinctively retreat from, I turned a corner to discover the awful truth: One Direction had arrived in Georgia. Their fans were awaiting the start of their film at the cinema and displaying appreciation for their heroes in the way only teenage girls can. For those unfamiliar with this musical? phenomenon all you need to know is that their…
