Cycling in Caucasus. There, where it all began – but only in the second trial.
In the end I was left with only one task: to get the
bike back home. I rode to the airport in the afternoon and I had plenty of time
until the flight next morning at five. Event at Ljubljana airport sowed a grain
of worry. What if they refuse to take the bike on the plane? At the airport I
saw a post office. More for fun then seriously I asked whether I could send the
bike by mail. The clerks calculated that it would cost $ 300, although they
admitted that they haven't had such a case yet. Of course, I had a plan B. In
fact, it was the plan A. I brought two rolls of food-wrapping foil, 30 m and 20
m. I intended to wrap the bike with it, which has been my standard job for
years. My 4 mm Allen key broke right at the start, which made it slightly more
difficult to disassemble the bike, but I still managed to create a beautiful
"wrap" which was envied even by the official luggage wrappers at the
airport. The professional product impressed also the staff at check-in. They
didn't have arguments about the packaging, and even the starting fares of 60
Euros was lowered to 35 because I had no other luggage beside the bike. It was
a happy end of a pleasant journey.
Monastery Khor Virap with Ararat (5165 m) in the hazy background.
But my journey also got a more modern note. Now, when
the number of people killed in terrorist attacks is on the news daily (and if
not, the media void is filled with an accident of some bus in Pakistan), I felt
like a fifth horseman of the Apocalypse. In the temporal waves that were left
behind my bike, some strange things occurred. Four days after I landed at Istanbul
airport, there was a terrorist attack. Two weeks later a military coup. A week
after I left Yerevan, mentioned the last time more then 40 years ago in the
Soviet Union because of its famous radio, the city finally underwent the
world's media fame with a report on some hostages in a police station. Journey
therefore gained a broader, metaphysical dimension. I think I know what was the
reason: the metaphysical supernatural forces, for the existence of which I have
now accumulated substantial evidence material, were trying to make up for the
overcast weather that prevented me to make beautiful shots of the Great and
Little Ararat in the background of the Armenian monastery of Khor Virap.