29th September: Yerevan, Armenia
Our first day in Yerevan began by looking for some late morning snacks. Kaja had a very tasty tofu wrap, but a coffee and croissant, to supplement my early morning plums and persimmon from a previous market haul, hit the spot for me. It was warm today! My first day in shorts for a while.
Wandering a little further, we came across the monumental Cascade complex. This 50-metre wide, 572 step art deco concrete and stone staircase connects the city bowl with upper neighbourhoods. Much more than that, it falls on a central axis offering unparalleled views over the city and Ararat. The structure contains huge artworks and fountains, houses galleries inside, and provides extensive areas for residents and visitors to sit and relax. Slightly irritatingly, this otherwise very cool and satisfying colossus doesn’t quite line up with the 40th anniversary of Soviet Armenia monument at the top! Construction began in 1971 and it was semi-opened in 1980. However, it was only completed to its current state after a large donation by a ‘philanthropist’ (read: wealth-hoarder whitewashing their reputation with money that should already belong to everyone). The top section is still to be constructed, 53 years after it began. Perhaps this is Armenia’s answer to the Sagrada Familia?!
One of the attractions at the top is Victory Park, which, similarly to in Gyumri, has an amusement park and a Mother Armenia statue. This statue replaced a previous representation of Stalin and is based on a real person, a teacher in fact. Propaganda absorbed from the military history museum (interesting, nonetheless) in the base of the statue and kvas in hand, we headed back down the stairs to explore more if the city bowl.
Yerevan feels completely different from the rest of Armenia. Things are expensive and there is obvious wealth here (for some). It feels like it must be an expensive place to live for locals. In addition to the widespread pressures from inflation, covid hangovers, and climate-change induced ‘supply chain issues’ suffered by much of the world, there are large numbers of refugees from the Nagorno-Karabakh (or Artsakh) war and Russians fleeing their own country after the war with Ukraine began. The city feels European, whereas the rest of the country has been somewhat gritty. This contrast of an unhealthily strong focus on one city (hello, London) actually feels similar to that in Azerbaijan, although I’ve not heard this criticism made as readily about Armenia. I digress. Yerevan is probably my favourite city we’ve visited so far in the Caucasus, but it feels important to me to note that there are points which don’t fit the conventional narratives I’ve seen expressed.
Onwards through the leafy streets, where there are usually parks or wide pavements, although still far too many cars and road crossings. A back alley vegan micro café and bottle shop – coincidentally run by young Russians who made the same move as many in 2022 – served up delicious fried sushi and onigirazu. Young ‘digital nomads’ worked from laptops outside as in seemingly every bar and cafe.
The city thronged with activity such as a pop-up 3-on-3 basketball demonstration by the men’s Armenian national team, a large-scale science week, and concerts. Independence Square – epicentre of the annual water fight – was imposing, but Freedom Square was a relaxing spot for pre-sunset churros.
We finished our day as we’d started, atop the Cascade. This time the internal escalators helped to whisk us up just as before the sun sunk below the horizon. Pink hues still illuminated the snow-capped summit of Mount Ararat, as Yerevan buzzed below us.