Day Two in the Land That Smiles Forgot: the Free Walking Tour

The Armenian National Opera and Ballet Theatre.
Don't be fooled by the pretentious "-re" spelling of "Theatre." Tickets are cheap.

The Free Walking Tour of Yerevan started at 4:30 p.m. and continued for three and a half hours until it was dark. There was a meal break in the middle, so it was not continuous walking the entire time.

The tour started in front of the national museum. The tour guide was pleasant and -- this is the plot twist to this Armenian vacation -- she talked. She actually communicated with us.

This area is now known as "Republic Square," displacing the old name of "Lenin Square" from a bygone era. The 100-foot tall statue of Lenin is gone, too.

But not this house. It pre-dates the Soviet era. It is built of black basalt (volcanic rock).

Here is some communist, socialist realism art that did survive:

And more communist art. This is a statue honoring Stalin's close Armenian friend, Stepan Shahumyan.

The Shahumyan Monument. Because of Armenia's historically cordial and complicated relations with Russia (primarily as a bulwark against the Turks and the Persians) (although Armenia now has very good relations with Iran), Armenia chose not to destroy much of its communist art and design. A 100-foot tall Lenin, however, was too much, even for the Armenian Russophiles.

This is a Soviet brutalist style building now gussied up into a bank building.

The metal tree does a great job of hiding the socialist realism facade.

I don't have many photos of the tour because I already had photographed the Republic Square area past the point of exhaustion. In between the very photogenic start and the photogenic end of the tour, the middle part was full of great information about Armenia, including the Armenian perspective on the recent peace deal negotiated between Armenia and Azerbaijan. But it was not full of photo ops.

After the dinner break, it was dark. The tour ended at the Cascades, a Soviet brutalist style massive staircase that leads to an upper part of Yerevan.

The fountains were in working order here on the north side of Yerevan. Colorful, too.

The tour ended, and it was time to head back to the hotel to rest my feet for the next day's excursion.

But there's always time to photograph from statuary. This is the Martiros Sarian Statue. He is as a communicative as most residents of Yerevan.

Final Day in Georgia (This Trip)

Starting the day with some communist art in the heart of Kutaisi

Today will conclude the Georgia portion of this vacation. I will catch a flight to the final stop on this trip early tomorrow morning.

The sun was shining so, before breakfast and before the drive back to Tbilisi, I decided to do some shutterbugging in Kutaisi.

Where I soon saw a street dog tree a cat.

I heard the dogs bark and a cat scream and run and, then, I saw the cat up in the tree, right at that first branch coming off the trunk.

There was not much car traffic, and no bus traffic, at this morning hour, so I was able to take some unobstructed photos sans automobiles of Colchis Fountain in the heart of Kutaisi.

I also was able to take an unobstructed photo of the gateway entrance into Kutaisi Park:

Some fellow tourists had the same idea that this was a great hour for some tourist photography.

There was something on the map called the "Soviet Sculpture Complex" nearby that I had not yet checked out. Well, as Elvis once said/sang: It's now or never. I chose "now."

I may hate communism, but I am fascinated by Socialist Realism art. The display was small, but it was quite communist in tone.

Socialist man, looking socialist.

The reviews mention that these sculptures are poorly maintained and vandalized. I didn't really notice that, except for one point in the back corner that seemed to be missing a statue. It looked decently well-maintained to me, although it was missing any explanatory notes.

All in all, I thought it was nicely maintained when you consider that there is absolutely no nostalgia for the Soviet era anywhere in Georgia, except maybe for some clueless tourists at the Stalin Museum in Gori.

That is the respected (within Georgia) poet Akaki Tsereteli. He died in 1915, so he was fortunate not to see the Bolshevik takeover of Georgia. The Soviet conquest of what had been an independent republic after the fall of czar resulted in a massive slaughter of artists and poets, as well as politicians, religious figures, and the community elite. Just finishing up the communist detour here.

It was time to get back to the hotel to eat breakfast, shower, and pack for the drive back to Tbilisi. With a few stops along the way.

The first stop was Samtavro. This is a historic (but still in use) convent in Mtskheta. I visited Mksheta on Wednesday, but not the Samtavro convent.

I did visit Jvari Monastery high atop that hill, however, on Wednesday.

There was a nice crowd there.

The buildings of Samtavro originally were built in the fourth century, which would before Christianity came to Georgia. It was reconstructed as church property in the 11th Century.

I was dressed in shorts and a polo, so I could not go inside initially. The polo was acceptable, but not the shorts. But then one of the priests gave me permission to enter as long as I got some fabric to cover my bare knees. I had mentioned the Serbian Orthodox church that has been under construction in Las Vegas for maybe a decade and a half, and was being built in the traditional style. The priest was actually familiar with that church, although he definitely had not traveled to Las Vegas.

So, after getting wrapped in fabric, I was able to enter. The interior was beautiful, but no photography was allowed inside. Not even without a flash. One of the major focal points of the church is the tomb of Saint Gabriel, a monk who died in 1995. His tomb is a major pilgrimage site.

And so it was time to leave Samtrovo to head for Tbilisi.

The final stop of the tour was a site I had visited before going to Kutaisi: the Chronicles of Georgia. I was very happy to return here because this time I had a guide who would be able to explain some of the iconography involving the history of Georgia and the history of Georgian Orthodox church that were lost on me when I walked among the giant pillars with no guide.

For example, I did not need an explanation for this:

It's a Biblical scene. Adam naming the animals. If you know the Georgian language and alphabet, you would know that the word "Adam" appears in the upper corner.

However, my guide was able to tell me that this column is of King David the Builder, who earned his name by building much of Georgia, both in the sense of building buildings and building a Georgian culture.

This, a bit covered in shadows because the sun decided to go into hiding, is the only woman "king" of Georgia.

Tamar. She reigned from 1184 to 1213. She earned her place in the Chronicles of Georgia.

Here I am in front of one of my favorite scenes. Jesus walking on the water and, more importantly, Peter being unable to do so.

Again, I find the imagery comforting. Peter was a weak man whose faith was not continuously strong. Not only did he deny Christ three times on the night preceding the crucifixion, but he also showed a weakness of faith when Christ invited him to walk toward him -- on the water -- and Peter soon realized that he could not do so so he began to sink into the waters.

And how do I honor this?

With a sacrilegious reenactment.

One final pose standing tall in the midst of the Chronicles of Georgia.

And that will end the Georgia part of this vacation. One week in this country and it was not enough. Beautiful scenery. Great architecture. Delicious food. And, most importantly, so many of the warmest, most welcoming people I have met anywhere in all of my travels.

A Rainy Day in Georgia: Time to Head to the Museum

Metal heads in bowls. Now at the Georgian National Museum.

It was a rainy morning in Georgia.  It was pouring down rain hard with lots of loud claps of thunder.  Not ideal tourist conditions.  But when you on vacation on a rainy day, that means it is a great day to go to the museum.

I went to the Georgian National Museum, which -- and this is important given that it was pouring rain -- was only a 10-minute walk from the hotel.  The bottom floor has the anthropology section.  Skulls, like above, and animal bones, such as these:

There once were rhinoceroses in Caucasuses.

Ostriches too.

Are these what I think they are?

Historic, even prehistoric, jello molds.  From so long ago they were from a time before jello came powdered in a tiny box.

And this is a belt.  For a man.

What fascinated me about this was just how tiny the men's waists must have been from when that belt was new.

Hunting scenes on the side of the belt:

And here is a metal female head in a metal bowl.

It's like the metal male head in a metal bowl up top, only female.

And this is a small piece of gold ornamentation:

There also was an interesting exhibit of Georgian Orthodox church art that, for some reason, forbade photography.  So I took no photographs.

All in all, the national museum was not very detailed on the history of Georgia, with one notable exception.

The exhibit covering the period of Soviet occupation of Georgia, which is roughly from 1921, when the Bolsheviks conquered Georgia and ended the First Republic of Georgia up through the fall of the USSR in 1991.  Georgia had a treaty with the Soviet Union to recognize Georgian independence, but once the communists had full control over Russia, they broke the treaty.  And proceeded to go on a massive killing spree.

The communists slaughtered the Georgian elite, the religious leaders, artists, anyone of prominence in the Georgian community.  Why?  Because they were communists and communism is evil.  Satanic evil.  If you know anything of the history of Bolshevism and communism, you know that is not hyperbole.

The exhibit consists mostly of photos are writings of those slaughtered by the communists,  It tells the story of the evil of Soviet communism more eloquently than a timeline ever could.

This is an exhibit of the first in Georgia to be murdered by the Soviet communists:

Never again.

Sunday Church Phot-o' the Day: Interior of Crkva Sv. Petra; Petrovina, Croatia

This is the interior of Crkva Sv. Petra (Church of St. Peter) in Petrovina, Croatia. This is the small village in Northern Croatia from which my father's family migrated. As befits a small village, it is a small church.

All church records were destroyed by the communists, so there was no tracing family history here. Yugoslavia wasn't as hostile to the church as were the communists elsewhere (except for Poland). You were allowed to go to church in the former Yugoslavia. You would not be arrested or imprisoned if you did. However, according to the priest who opened this church up for us to see, you would never get promoted beyond an entry-level job or otherwise advance.

Visited September 2014.

I'm Dreaming of a Red Christmas

I took the communism theme walking tour, so of course we walked to the man who slayed the Red Menace

Red.  The color of "workers of the world unite." 

This morning I went down to Vörösmarty tér (Vörösmarty Square, for those unfamiliar with the Magyar tongue) (which probably would be everybody who doesn't actually live in Hungary). I found that this was the place where the Budapest Christmas Market is centered.

But I did not go to Vörösmarty tér for the Christmas or for the capitalism.  I was there for the communism.  Specifically, the communist-themed walking tour of Budapest.

Christmas and communism.  Together in Budapest.  (Apparently, when Budapesters want to go to Christmas markets to get into the Christmas spirit, they head to Vienna.  So, yes, Budapest has a Christmas market, but it does not appear to be a "destination" type of Christmas market.)

Let's walk.

Good news for Budapest, but bad news for the tour, there are not many vestiges of communism to see in Budapest.  Budapest Centrum, the downtown core, was spared the Brutalist style of Soviet architecture, and the horrors of Le Corbusier and the Bauhaus School of architecture, which decreed buildings must be unadorned and ugly.  In Soviet Brutalism, it was the actual intent to kill the spirit through public ugliness in architecture.  For the moderns and post-moderns, it was merely an unhappy consequence.

I mean, come on, St. Stephen's Basilica!  (Szent István-bazilika in the original Magyar.)  It's nice that there is no communism to its design.

On the other hand, across the street, is this monstrosity.

Soviet brutalism.  Why the tour was light on actual communist sights, it was packed with historical knowledge.  Such as:  Did you know that Bela Lugosi, you know, Count Dracula Bela Lugosi, fled Hungary in 1919.  Why?  He was part of the very brief communist revolution that seized power in Hungary at the end of World War I.  One.  Not two.  There were communist takeovers of Hungary at the end of both world wars.  The post-WWI communist takeover was brief, only 131 days, and the 37 year old communist fled for Hollywood after it was over, a place where the communist revolution took hold, and despite a brief hiccup in the McCarthy Era, has ruled Hollywood unabated since.  Oops.  Sorry.  Not going to get political.

This carving above looks like it could be communist.  Workers and farmers and all that.  But it's not.  And it's on the side of a bank,

Next up is a very very very controversial holocaust memorial:

The eagle represents Nazi Germany.  The archangel Gabriel below represents Hungary.  This is to represent a holocaust being foisted upon the innocent Hungarian people by the Nazis.  Reality, unfortunately, was more complicated.  Apparently the Hungarian Nazis, the Arrow Cross, were even more efficient than the Germans in operating a holocaust within their borderss.

That could be a communist era building there.  It's ugly enough.  Final note on the Arrow Cross and the communists.  After WWII, a large number of the members of the local Nazi Party, the Arrow Cross, joined up and became loyal communists, continuing their work of slaughtering the local population.

Speaking of controversy and of slaughtering the local population, above is an obelisk that serves as a memorial to the Soviet Red Army soldiers who were killed liberating the country from the Nazis.  If that is not the very definition of "mixed emotions," I don't know what would be.

Lots of nice buildings surrounding the Soviet Red Army memorial.  Such as:

And this:

These certainly would have been part of the pre-communist Budapest.  But the man more responsible than any other American for their being a post-communist Budapest  (and, perhaps, more responsible than anyone else on the planet -- you decide)

Ladies and gentleman, I give you Ronald Reagan.  He's posing here with our tour guide.  Tour Guide is in blue.  The President is in bronze.

And here's President Reagan posing with an elderly American tourist,

Here is a sort-of Hungarian hero of the communist era: Imre Nagy.  He was the premier of communist Hungary who allowed the 1956 revolt against communism to happen.  It was brutally suppressed by the Soviets and their Warsaw Pact allies.

Nagy was executed by the communists as a result.  Buried upside and in an unmarked grave.

After communism fell in 1989, Nagy's body was exhumed and he was reburied with proper honors.  But, to keep Hungary, a lot of red blood flowed in the interim.

The metal balls -- which are all over the courtyard and square behind the Parliament building -- represent each bullet that was fired into the crowd of true revolutionaries who died trying to throw off the yoke of communism.

Speaking of Parliament, this is Budapest's signature building, its Parliament building.

Most certainly not communist-era.  It now houses the democratically-elected national legislature.  Because communism is dead.  The only red in modern day Hungary is their delicious "Bull's Blood" red wine.  As it should be.

The communist tour complete, it was time for some other touring.

This is a non-evil eagle, the symbol of Budapest's multi-sport Ferencvárosi teams.  Well, non-evil if you're a fan.  Evil is cheer for a different Budapest football club, I guess.

I then went back to the hotel for a brief nap.  Woke up at 3:00 p.m. feeling well-rested and awesome.  Finally.  Then I realized that 3:00 p.m. local time is 6:00 a.m. Las Vegas.  I had just woken up at my regular waking time.  Oh well, time to head to the Rudas thermal baths for a soapy water massage!

It was only a quarter to four or so, and it already was dusk in Budapest.  The combination of being east in the time zone and rather far north makes for a very early sunset this time of year.

This area is St. Gellert Square, where the Gellert baths are located.  But we are not soaking in the water of the Gellert today.

Bridge with barges.  Artsy, no?

We are soaking at the Rudas.

No photos inside.  You would not want to see a picture of me wearing the loin cloth thing you wear to soak in the Rudas.  You really would not.

It was night time when I left after my soapy water massage, which is the Hungarian massage style using soap and hot water.  That's the Elizabeth Bridge above, named for "CiCi," an enduring popular Habsburg royal who pretty much lived a life that was the 180-degree polar opposite of "communist."

Unless you are referring to the "communist lifestyle" lived by high officials of the party.

Trams at Gellert Square.  Again, artsy, no?

Dinner was at a gluten free restaurant.

I had the porcini and sour cream soap for a starter.  I then had something truly American for my main course.

BBQ bacon burger with french fries and cole slaw,  On a gluten free bun.  The burger was tasty, with barbecue sauce, mayo (!), lettuce and tomato.  No cheese, however.  They missed that detail.  The bacon was crisp and thin-sliced like we Americans like our bacon, not all thick and fatty and European.  Yum.  The fries were given that double frying that makes them extra crispy, so that's a French fry-making secret that crossed the Atlantic.

The name of the restaurant was "Drop."  It was packed with Hungarian hipsters.  Yes, a little bit of Brooklyn all the way in Budapest.  I probably was the only in there because God said eat gluten free, rather than eating gluten free as some sort of Brooklyn hipster statement.  The restaurant was, literally, right across the walk from my hotel.  And I mean literally-literally, not figuratively literally.  The handle of the door fell off when I was leaving.  Which seemed like quality workmanship from the communist era.