Meghri encounters

Especially after the unusually grumpy woman at the Bed & Breakfast in Agarak we were extremely touched by the kind, welcoming people in the small town of Meghri. This town is just a few kilometers from the Iranian border, with its old stone houses nestled against the steep valley slopes.

After having arrived on the main square with its huge trees and its monument to the local victims of WWII, we left our heavy backpacks with the friendly lady running the local food shop and set out to explore the old town. We visited the church, lighted some candles in best Armenian tradition, and were charmed by the footpaths between the houses and their gardens.

Walking up one of these paths we met David, an old man with beautiful white hair and a very characteristic face, who immediately invited us into his house to have coffee, nuts and cake. We also met his wife Lena, equally beautiful with her 73 years. I was given freshly cut roses and Christian a bottle of home brewn grape vodka (for the French among us, this would be called marc). We told about our lives in France and heard stories from Armenia. Such as how difficult it is now to keep the garden going with the water needed to irrigate it becoming more and more expensive. Their three children all live in Moscow, which they have visited several times in the winter, when their garden permits.

Another lady we met explained all the fruit trees and vegetables she has in her garden to us, and was very embarrassed that she could not offer us anything, as no fruits were ripe yet. I was sorry about this, because she had lovely mulberry trees, whose fruit I adore and so far have only eaten in Armenia...

Finally there were the two men who saw us trying to hitch a ride in the scorching afternoon sun. One, who works at a small petrol station, made us Turkish/Armenian coffee, and the other came with home-made quince pieces in sugar. Very touching. And of course, each time we were asked where we came from and what parts of Armenia we had visited and whether we liked it. And whether we were married and had children (and upon hearing that we don't have any children, wishing us many...)