Month: Sep 2026

This time, I simply skipped the breakfast. The Khinkali from yesterday were still bothering my stomach and the high histamine in the wine gave me some nice headache. I packed my belongings, saddled up and left Tbilisi before 9 a.m. It was cloudy with some occasional spat of rain. I took the direct route to the Armenian border. In Sadakhlo, I filled up, a bit early, but I would have peace of mind for the rest of the day.. I also topped up the motor and chain lube oil. It was not far anymore to the border. The Georgian side was as bland as ever. The Armenian passport control officer seemed to have more life in him and when I was stopped at the Armenian customs check, I couldn’t believe my ears: ‘good morning!’ Did the customs officer just greet me? His colleague even started a conversation with me, asking me what ‘do you have anything to declare?’ is called in German. He had studied some German, he proudly announced. After opening the tank bag and the panniers, one officer told me to see another officer in the building. The colleague there worked on my file and told me friendly (friendly!) to pay the custom fees at the bank counter. I tried to extract some money from the ATM, but I would not get more than 5000 Dari (12 Euro). Enough to pay the fee though. In the meantime the customer officer had changed and was replaced by a supermodel, well, at least she was heavily painted like one. She detected an error of the bank clerk and instructed him to fix it. I was already waiting for 25 minutes…answering questions, but at least the exchange was polite. Finally I was good to go.

At the exit a young guy approached me, if I needed an insurance. I could ride without one, but the fine would be 2500 Euro. Yes, I did. We entered his office and he filled in the paper. I could pay in Euro with a correct exchange rate. Outside the office, I got invited for a tea by its owner; the friendly insurance guy and another lad started a conversation and the stand owner gave me also a local apricot and some grapes, the signatory fruit of Armenia. Tasty. The weather was cloudy with some occasional drizzle. I took it easy and was happy that I ‘only’ chose to ride to Yerevan today. Under different conditions in Europe, you would be tempted to plan longer days, but I’m not on a rally, but I want to soak up the essence of a country. So when I have the opportunity to chat with locals and I am invited, I take my time.

After a while, I said goodbye and moved on. First, the villages seemed equally poor than on the Georgian side, but this changed the closer I got to the capital. The roads in Armenia were mostly excellent, this was a smooth riding. This was also facilitated by the tightened swing arm axle, the bike was more stable and the metallic singing of the brake disc, that I had attributed to some incompatible braking pads, was gone. This meant that the wheels had not been properly aligned. So this was better now. The smooth tarmac allowed a smooth riding style. Nice. After half an hour, I arrived at the monastery of Haghpat, enlisted as UNESCO patrimony. Also known as Haghpatavank, it  is a medieval Armenian monastery  built between the 10th and 13th century.

The monasteries at Haghpat and Sanahin were chosen as UNESCO World Heritage Sites because: the two monastic complexes represent the highest flowering of Armenian religious architecture, whose unique style developed from a blending of elements of Byzantine ecclesiastical architecture and the traditional vernacular architecture of the Caucasian region.

The location is really stunning, although the mountain tops were in clouds. Or maybe because.

I still had not had any luck to find a bank to extract some Armenian cash, so my bets were on Alaverdi, the next town. Indeed, there were some ATMs, but before that, I crossed the outskirts what looked like a place from the post-Soviet time that remained completely untouched.

I finally found a ATM that could quench my thirst for Armenian banknotes. Close to the town, a twisty road lead up the mountain to the village of Sanahin. There, a church complex from the 10th century. The name Sanahin literally translates from Armenian as ‘this one is older than that one’, presumably representing a claim to being an older monastery than the neighbouring Haghpat Monastery, with which it forms a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The two villages and their monasteries are similar in many ways, and lie in plain view of each other on a dissected plateau formation, separated by a deep crack formed by a small river flowing into the Debed river. Here, the location is less spectacular, but it is not the atmosphere in the interior that sticks out.

Again, most of the tourists were Chinese groups. And some occasional French. Also here, the way to the complex was flanked by souvenir stands.

The next kilometers were marked by the Debed Canyon that reminded my of Southern France or Spain. After a while I spotted a nice new café with toilet and shop that made me stop. Exactly what I needed. The pattern is the same for Azerbaijan, Georgia and Armenia: coffee culture is a new thing and very hip. Coffee places are mushrooming everywhere, even in remote places like this one. I had a excellent cheese cake and a flat white, the treatment at the counter in comparison with Georgia was striking, there was a chat and some smiles. That‘s how you treat guests.

It was my breakfast and late lunch at the same time and exacly what I needed. There was also a large group with mud-encrusted 4×4 buggies that seemed to have a lot of fun, judging the state of their overalls and the buggies.

From now on the drizzle got stronger and I was glad I had bought new watertight Daytona boots. The next location was a bit off the main road, two churches in the forest. What I had not expected was the bad road (track? riverbed?) that led there. Basically impassable for a normal car, only for 4x4s. At the worst part I couldn‘t stop as I was chased by huge angry dogs. I learned to handle them after I had read once an article how dogs perceive cyclists/motorbikers: they don‘t understand that it is a human sitting on a vehicle, but a ‚thing‘ that frightens them. Knowing this, it is important to just carry on, don‘t stop. Even if a dog would would be so smart to identify a leg as a ‚target‘ (they aren‘t), the next thing that would hit them would be the pannier. So just keep your cool and don‘t slow down. Although it costs quite an effort not to panic when some dogs at the size of small calves come running and barking at you.

After 3 km the road tirnes into a steep mud track. That‘s is usually the end for the XBR, she can take sand and rocks, but deep sand and mud is a show-stopper. So this meant I skipped visiting the church of Jukhtavank, but there was still the abandoned church of Matosavank, a ‚lost place‘ in the middle of the forest. I remembered having looked at that one and considering it a acceptable walk. I parked the bike and commenced by walk. First it lead down to a river where I had to cross on a very dodgy ‚bridge‘ that had some very thin steel plates on top that were welded ages ago. They bent under my weight and I wondered how pleasant it would be to fall into the river, getting stuck in a bridge….

But luckily, nothing happend. I walked uphill and slowly it dawned on me that I had underetimated the distance. The track was very slippery and muddy. I thought ‚ come on, you have seen worse in IBA rallies‘ and carried on. There always comes a point where giving up ‚now‘ seems a bigger effort than continuing….I took a wrong turn, despite my combined Google Maps and Komoot apps, but realised it quickly. I met a guy who confirmed that I finally was on the right track. Making detours because of huge puddles, lots of mud made it not ‚a walk in the park‘, butrather a ‚climb in the muddy forest‘. Finally, after 30 min of walk and sweating in my motorbike gear, I reached the partially collapsed church. It is indeed a special ‚lost place‘ and its remote location prevents it from being a instagram influencer place.

The walk back was easier, but I had to be very careful not to slip with all the mud. The ride to the main road was accompanied by even bigger dogs. Finally I was on the safe road to Dilikan where the ascent to a pass started. I noticed how old the lady now is and how the too fat mixture makes her pant when you climb higher and higher. In the end it was a tunnel at 2000 m altitude that marked the descent to Yerevan. It was sunny now and soon we reached the largest lake in Armenia, Lake Sevan. To my surprise, it is located at an altitude of 1900 m, higher than the Sils Lake near St. Moritz. At its shore, there is the Sevanavank church on a small peninsula, overlooking the lake with the high mountains in its background. Lots of tourists here, souvenirs in abundance. But the location is special and the weather provided the perfect background.

Sevanavank is a monastic complex located on a peninsula at the northwestern shore of Lake Sevan. Initially the monastery was built at the southern shore of a small island. After the artificial draining of Lake Sevan, which started in the era of Joseph Stalin, the water level fell about 20 metres, and the island transformed into a peninsula. Due to easier accessibility (once it became a peninsula), good highway and railway connections with the Armenian capital Yerevan, a well-developed tourist industry in the nearby town of Sevan, and its picturesque location (although less picturesque than it was before the lake level drop), Sevanavank is one of the most visited tourist sights in Armenia.

This was the last church in a very churchy day, but for the self-declared first christian nation in history having adopted Christianity as a state religion in AD 301, this is to be expected. From here, it was a quick ride on a new motorway down to Yerevan where I arrived 30 min later, filling up again and then getting stuck in the evening traffic. Finally I arrived at my hotel conveniently located near the Republic Square. I checked in and finally managed to park the bike in the car park. A good shower later I discovered that the area was full with restaurants and bars. I chose one where I could sit outside. Luckily, because some entertainment programme had started. The singer was only moderately impressive, but the stars were the dancers that not impressed with professional dancing, but also with a fitting choreography.

I ordered some delicious lamp chops and a fine red and flabbergasted when the entertainment turned to Spanish tunes.