It occurs to me that in my haste to write my previous post I didn't really discuss Iran as a country outside how it impacted on my cycling trip. A terribly narcissistic failing for which I beg forgiveness.
I find myself writing this 8000 miles away, two months removed and three countries later so I'll dispense with all pretense of punctuality and instead luxuriate in recalling this beguiling, contradictory country which often inspires so many opinions based on such little understanding.
Iran 1st leg: Tabriz
I spent a couple of days ostensibly riding out the weather in Meghri but really immobilised by the prospect of leaving for the unknown of Iran. In my haste to arrive at the border before my visa window elapsed I had done so with a week to spare and I found it surprisingly difficult to leave.
Despite falling ill I felt very affectionate towards Armenia. Apricot jam, excellent inexpensive brandy and sensational doors were now my status quo. A land of harsh mountains, proud of its Christian heritage but perfectly relaxed about all shops staying open late on Sundays; where an overturned cup of coffee can predict whether you would find love. (I would not apparently, so the system checks out.) Even the overwhelmingly high proportion of white vehicles compared to other colors now seemed perfectly normal.
Assault by mountain.
Before leaving Goris I happened upon this diagram in the hostel guestbook written by a very thoughtful cyclist who had passed through some years earlier.
I very much approved of the clear concise format filled with helpful annotations. What it lacked aesthetically it made up for in clarity. All in all a very useful document especially it's allusion to a deserted monastery at the top of the pass before Kapan.
With the afternoon already wearing on I decided that a 15k freewheel down to the gorge bottom followed by a 10k climb was more than do-able before nightfall and would allow me to sleep at said monastery that night.
I very much approved of the clear concise format filled with helpful annotations. What it lacked aesthetically it made up for in clarity. All in all a very useful document especially it's allusion to a deserted monastery at the top of the pass before Kapan.
With the afternoon already wearing on I decided that a 15k freewheel down to the gorge bottom followed by a 10k climb was more than do-able before nightfall and would allow me to sleep at said monastery that night.
Gully! What a gorge-ous couloir, canyon not defile it?
What I may lack in pun quality I try to make up for in exuberant quantity.
Having spent a comfortable pagan night camped amongst the stone sentinels my morning began with another high pass to reach. At 2260m it was only a few hundered short of Selim and constituted a hearty mornings work.
But safe in the knowledge that my destination for the day, Goris, was only 25k beyond I could relax and enjoy the growing majesty of the surrounds.
It hadn't rained here for days but the snow hung on even on the road side making me glad of warm gloves and hat despite the high sun and bitterly lamenting the loss of my buff as the cold wind came down off the peaks.
Having spent a comfortable pagan night camped amongst the stone sentinels my morning began with another high pass to reach. At 2260m it was only a few hundered short of Selim and constituted a hearty mornings work.
But safe in the knowledge that my destination for the day, Goris, was only 25k beyond I could relax and enjoy the growing majesty of the surrounds.
It hadn't rained here for days but the snow hung on even on the road side making me glad of warm gloves and hat despite the high sun and bitterly lamenting the loss of my buff as the cold wind came down off the peaks.
Ancient Armenia
A deliriously fun descent from Selim was the first order of the day and with Handel's Trumpet Concertio pushing away thoughts of my frozen feet I could concentrate on soaking up the beguilingly hazy views offered up by every twist and turn.
Working my way down the valley I watched as winter fell away replaced by the last of autumns leaves and the beginnings of pretty riverside orchards.
Working my way down the valley I watched as winter fell away replaced by the last of autumns leaves and the beginnings of pretty riverside orchards.
Back on the road again
I had said my goodbyes to Spitak on the Saturday allowing me to take my leave unobtrusively on a clear and crisp Sunday morning. Retracing my steps, taken over a month previously, to Vanadazor.
I had to reach the Iranian border by the 6th of December putting a less than welcome time-scale on my progress. Still after some initial wobbles my confidence returned and the going was fine. If I was stopping rather more than previously and feeling a touch discombobulated it wasn't sufficient to prevent me making steady progress.
South of Vanadazor I entered gentle hillsides.
I had to reach the Iranian border by the 6th of December putting a less than welcome time-scale on my progress. Still after some initial wobbles my confidence returned and the going was fine. If I was stopping rather more than previously and feeling a touch discombobulated it wasn't sufficient to prevent me making steady progress.
South of Vanadazor I entered gentle hillsides.
The last of Autumn still hanging on picturesquely in places.
Dark clouds over Yerevan
I took a Marshutka to Yerevan which meant going to some wasteland behind a pharmacy and saying Yerevan to various loiterers before lucking upon a driver, who pointed at this glorious vehicle.
The bus doesn't leave until full and so people enter, put a bag on a seat, and then get off for a cigarette, go shopping, or talk loudly into mobiles. How this doesn't result in the bus never leaving is a mystery to me but through some magical process passengers re-coagulated at a seemingly unappointed moment and we were off.
The bus doesn't leave until full and so people enter, put a bag on a seat, and then get off for a cigarette, go shopping, or talk loudly into mobiles. How this doesn't result in the bus never leaving is a mystery to me but through some magical process passengers re-coagulated at a seemingly unappointed moment and we were off.
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