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It looks like you’re planning a trip to Armenia, and that’s why you came across this article. Here, I will provide brief but useful advice on how to choose a guide in Armenia to make the most of your trip, enjoy your journey, and keep expenses reasonable. Let’s dive in. < Back How to Choose a Local Guide in Armenia It looks like you’re planning a trip to Armenia, and that’s why you came across this article. Here, I will provide brief but useful advice on how to choose a guide in Armenia to make the most of your trip, enjoy your journey, and keep expenses reasonable. Let’s dive in. I am Suren, a hiking guide in Armenia, and I have been organizing and leading tours for over 10 years. I work in English and Russian and have an intermediate level of German. I provide private and group hiking, sightseeing, off-roading, and urbex tours across Armenia. Raising the flag of Armenia at the top mount Ararat As of December 2025, it’s important to note that there is no official accreditation or certification process for guides in Armenia. Unfortunately, this means that anyone — even those with little knowledge of history, the country, or the language can offer guiding services. This is a major problem that should be addressed, but in the meantime, travelers need to choose guides carefully. Hiring a guide through a tour agency can also be tricky. Some agencies try to pay guides as little as possible, sometimes hiring random people who have nothing to do with tourism just to avoid higher costs — even while charging you a lot. Choosing the Right Guide Suppose you’ve found a guide you are interested in. Here are some steps to ensure a quality experience: 1. Check photos from past tours – Images should reflect real experiences, not random photos from the internet. 2. Have a short call – This helps verify their language skills and gives insight into their knowledge and education. 3. Request a tour itinerary – A carefully designed itinerary with clear information and photos often tells you more than online reviews. If history matters to you, ask whether the guide can explain the historical sites in detail. Some guides focus purely on off-roading or hiking and provide little to no historical context. Decide what’s most important for your trip and choose accordingly. From my experience, Russian-speaking tourists often ask detailed historical questions — sometimes even about random plants! English-speaking tourists are usually less curious about these details, but it varies. My car is a Mitsubishi Pajero 4. After camping on the shore of Lake Kari at 3100 meters above sea level, the weather was perfect, but the next day it turned terrible. Now we’re discussing our next plans. The Vehicle The condition of the vehicle is another key factor. Ask for photos of both the interior and exterior. Off-road vehicles may look impressive outside but be in poor condition inside. Check whether the car has air conditioning , especially for hot summer days. In dusty areas, such as the rocky terrains of the Geghama Mountains, you can’t simply open the window hoping for fresh air — the thick dust makes that impossible. Keeping the windows closed is a must in those conditions. Additional Tips for Choosing a Local Guide in Armenia Check Online Presence – Look for guides with a professional website, as well as active Instagram or Facebook pages. In Armenia, only a few guides have their own personal websites — is that an indicator? For me, yes. It says a lot. A well-maintained and long-standing online presence with meaningful, engaging content often reflects reliability and real experience. I also highly value guides who use their own photos with their logos — it shows they are truly invested in their work and stand behind what they do. Ask About Special Interests – Some guides specialize in certain types of tours, such as hiking, off-roading, urbex, or sightseeing tours. Choose a guide whose strengths match your interests. I once guided an urbex tour, and clients from the Netherlands told me that in some countries the guides they hired claimed they could lead urbex tours, but soon canceled because they had no real experience in that field. Confirm Group Size and Tour Type – Ask whether the tour is private or shared, how many people typically join, and if the itinerary is flexible based on your preferences. Look for Safety Standards – For off-roading or hiking tours, check whether the guide provides hiking or camping equipment — and whether it’s included in the price or comes at an additional cost. Check References – Ask for previous clients’ feedback. Sometimes a personal recommendation is more reliable than reviews on generic websites. Language Skills – Even if a guide knows English or Russian, confirm their proficiency, especially if you want detailed explanations about history, culture, or nature. Payment Terms – Clarify costs, what’s included (entrance fees, meals), and the payment method to avoid surprises. Cultural Knowledge – A good guide should offer more than basic facts — they should share stories, traditions, historical context, old photos for comparison, and local insights that make your visit genuinely richer. Guiding tourists to the summit of Northern Aragats Flexibility – Check whether the guide is open to adjusting the itinerary based on weather, traffic, or your personal interests. Ask whether extra stops are possible along the way, or if the guide strictly follows a fixed itinerary. Some guides may be unwilling to stop even for simple requests — for example, if you want to check out a Soviet-era bus stop you spotted on the road. Trust Your Instincts – If something feels off during communication before the tour, it’s better to look for another guide. A reliable guide should be professional, clear, and responsive. It's always a good idea to contact several guides and choose the one who best fits your expectations. Ready to explore Armenia with Suren? If this sparks your interest, let’s chat! Send me a message on WhatsApp or Telegram to plan your perfect adventure in Armenia. Safe travels! Gallery You May Also Like How to Visit ROT54 (Aragats Scientific Center) – Full Guide Shvanidzor’s 17th-Century Aqueduct: Armenia’s Ancient Engineering Marvel Grigor Khanjyan’s Monumental Fresco at the Yerevan Cascade From Stendhal Syndrome to Suren Syndrome Tirinkatar Sacred Valley: Armenia’s High-Altitude Valley of Dragon Stones How to Choose a Local Guide in Armenia Komitas Pantheon in Yerevan Gallery of Mineral Waters in Jermuk

In 1971, 17-year-old Juliane Koepcke boarded a plane destined for Christmas with her mother. Their journey took a tragic turn when lightning struck the aircraft, causing it to disintegrate mid-flight. Juliane, still strapped to her seat, plummeted 2 miles into the dense Amazon rainforest. Miraculously, she survived the fall, sustaining injuries like a broken collarbone and deep gash on her arm. This is her story. < Back The story of Juliane Koepcke who survived a plane crash and the Amazon jungle In 1971, 17-year-old Juliane Koepcke boarded a plane destined for Christmas with her mother. Their journey took a tragic turn when lightning struck the aircraft, causing it to disintegrate mid-flight. Juliane, still strapped to her seat, plummeted 2 miles into the dense Amazon rainforest. Miraculously, she survived the fall, sustaining injuries like a broken collarbone and deep gash on her arm. This is her story. Juliane Koepcke was flying over the Peruvian rainforest with her mother on Christmas Eve 1971 when their plane was hit by lightning and disintegrated in mid-air. She was the only survivor of the 92 passengers and crew on board LANSA Flight 508. She fell nearly 10,000 feet, still strapped to her seat, and landed in the dense jungle. She had a broken collarbone, a gash on her leg, and a ruptured knee ligament, but she was alive. Photo of Juliane Koepcke at the crash site She had spent most of her childhood in the rainforest, where her parents were zoologists who ran a research station. She knew how to survive in the wild and what dangers to avoid. She decided to follow a stream, hoping it would lead her to a river and then to a village. She had no food, no shoes, and no tools, but she had a determination to live. For 11 days, she walked through the jungle, enduring hunger, thirst, pain, and loneliness. She faced threats from piranhas, crocodiles, snakes, and insects. She suffered from sunburn, infection, and maggots in her wounds. She hallucinated about her mother, who had died in the crash, and wondered if anyone was looking for her. Cover of Juliane Koepcke's book: "When I Fell from the Sky: The True Story of One Woman's Miraculous Survival" On the tenth day, she found a small boat moored near a shelter. She waited there, hoping someone would come. The next day, she heard the sound of an engine and saw three men approaching. They were lumberjacks who worked in the area. They were shocked to see her, but they quickly took care of her. They gave her food and water, cleaned her wounds, and took her to a nearby village. From there, she was flown to a hospital in the city of Pucallpa, where she was reunited with her father. After recovering from her injuries, Koepcke assisted search parties in locating the crash site and recovering the bodies of the victims. Her mother's body was discovered on 12 January 1972." Werner Herzog and Juliane Koepcke during filming the documentary 'Wings of Hope' in 1998 Juliane’s story of survival amazed the world. She later wrote a book about her ordeal, called When I Fell From the Sky. She also became a zoologist like her parents and returned to the rainforest to study wildlife. She said she never lost her love for the jungle, even after everything she had been through. She said: “The jungle is my home.” Koepcke's story is also depicted by herself in German filmmaker Werner Herzog's documentary, "Wings of Hope" (1998). Herzog had a personal connection as he was initially scheduled to be on the same flight while scouting locations for his film "Aguirre, the Wrath of God" (1972). However, a last-minute change of plans spared him from the crash. Gallery You May Also Like How to Visit ROT54 (Aragats Scientific Center) – Full Guide Shvanidzor’s 17th-Century Aqueduct: Armenia’s Ancient Engineering Marvel Grigor Khanjyan’s Monumental Fresco at the Yerevan Cascade From Stendhal Syndrome to Suren Syndrome Tirinkatar Sacred Valley: Armenia’s High-Altitude Valley of Dragon Stones How to Choose a Local Guide in Armenia Komitas Pantheon in Yerevan Gallery of Mineral Waters in Jermuk

Once again, I find myself on an urbex mission. This article serves as a brief reflection on my exploration of the abandoned thermal power plant. It marked my inaugural experience inside such a structure, leaving me profoundly impressed. < Back Exploring an Abandoned Thermal Power Plant Once again, I find myself on an urbex mission. This article serves as a brief reflection on my exploration of the abandoned thermal power plant. It marked my inaugural experience inside such a structure, leaving me profoundly impressed. The Yerevan Thermal Power Plant (CHP) was commissioned in 1963 and initially operated on coal. Following subsequent modernizations, it transitioned to natural gas, rendering the old cooling towers obsolete. The cooling towers are creating an apocalyptic backdrop Currently, only four cooling towers remain, as two were dismantled between 2011 and 2012. Constructed from reinforced concrete with wooden decking, these cooling towers possess an epic aesthetic that appeals to urban photographers. A look at the sky while standing inside the cooling tower A rusty staircase provides access to the upper levels. As of spring 2024, the entrances to 3 cooling towers were locked, with only one tower accessible. Nearby structures, potentially control rooms, were not explored during this visit. Although there is security at the checkpoint, fortunately, there was no encounter with them on that particular day. I’m Suren, a professional urban explorer in Armenia. I offer unique urbex tours to abandoned, hidden, and off-the-map places you won’t find in guidebooks. Want a custom itinerary? Contact me on WhatsApp or Telegram . Project Gallery You May Also Like Inside the Eerie Corridors of an Abandoned Russian Fortress Soviet Bus Stops in Armenia Urbex Tours in Armenia – Photo Gallery The 53 cm Schmidt Telescope at Byurakan Astrophysical Observatory Exploring an Abandoned Rest House with Impressive Bas-Reliefs A Spaceship on Earth: The Soviet-Armenian Echo of the Futuro House Destroyed Soviet Mosaics and Frescoes in Armenia The Chayka Monument That Angered Nikita Khrushchev During His 1961 Visit to Armenia Previous Next

During and after World War II, thousands of German prisoners of war were transported to Armenia, where they participated in various labor projects. The total number of prisoners of war in Armenia amounted to around 16,160. Among them was the renowned Austrian zoologist, ethologist, and ornithologist Konrad Lorenz, who later shared the 1973 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine with Nikolaas Tinbergen and Karl von Frisch. < Back Konrad Lorenz's life as a prisoner of war in Armenia During and after World War II, thousands of German prisoners of war were transported to Armenia, where they participated in various labor projects. The total number of prisoners of war in Armenia amounted to around 16,160. Among them was the renowned Austrian zoologist, ethologist, and ornithologist Konrad Lorenz, who later shared the 1973 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine with Nikolaas Tinbergen and Karl von Frisch. In 1941, Konrad Lorenz, already a professor of psychology at the University of Königsberg, was conscripted into the Wehrmacht. He was assigned the role of a military psychologist. Under the supervision of Rudolf Hippius, Lorenz conducted racial studies on humans in occupied Poznań. The objective of these studies was to examine the biological characteristics of "German-Polish half-breeds" to ascertain whether they shared the same work ethics as "pure" Germans. The extent of Lorenz's involvement in the project remains unclear, but the project director, Hippius, referred to him as an "examining psychologist" on multiple occasions. It was in 1943 or 1944 (Lorenz himself doesn't remember for sure) that he witnessed transports of concentration camp inmates, and with this evidence before his own eyes, he at last "fully realized the complete inhumanity of the Nazis." Konrad Lorenz as a Soviet POW in 1944 In 1944, Lorenz was transferred to the Vitebsk field hospital. There, in a concrete bunker close behind the front line, he worked as a field surgeon. Then, when the Russians launched an attack westward, he was captured on June 24. When gathering information about Konrad Lorenz’s life in Armenia, I consulted a book about his biography written by Alec Nisbett, although the author provided limited information about his life as a POW. Luckily in my research, I also came across doctor Werner Straube's memoirs, which detailed their life as prisoners of war in Armenia. The text below consists of excerpts from his memoirs. After Werner Straube was captured, he was first taken to a large assembly camp. From there, he was transported to Brno, a camp with around 500 men, where they used to do road construction work. The transports were real starvation transports. They never had enough to eat or drink. Their comrades died of typhus, dysentery, diphtheria. At that time, German doctors were wanted. And so, medical student Straube registered as a doctor for the first time there. Later, Straube was taken to the Kober (probably in Lori Region or Armenia – Armenian Explorer) camp. After he had held the post of camp doctor there for about six months, a transport arrived from Kirov, and with this transport came Konrad Lorenz. Konrad Lorenz actively supported Straube with delousing from day one. Then they divided work: He took over the outpatient clinic, and Straube was responsible for the very primitive camp hospital. They took care of hygiene and delousing together. Malnutrition was a problem not only for prisoners but also for militants guarding them. The garrison officers were also always sick. So the officers of the garrisons also became Konrad's patients. As a result, he naturally had good contacts with the them, and his word carried weight with them. Konrad used his authority to warn guards not to mistreat prisoners and reminded them of the Geneva Convention. He did not shy away from using this argument, even though the Russians had not signed the Geneva Convention. The “Russian Manuscript” The Odyssey of the Russian Manuscript, which he famously took home with him has practically already begun to be written down. Konrad used this manuscript after his return home again and again as a basis for his scientific work. It was later lost, was found again in 1992 and then by Konrad's daughter, Agnes von Cranach, published as a Russian manuscript. Night after night Konrad sat and wrote. It was quiet and he was undisturbed. And always, when he finished a chapter, he said to me: “Werner, study this chapter and recite it to me.” I did that: I read the text, I thought of it I wrote down a few key words and then gave him the content in a free lecture presented. Konrad wanted to check whether his didactics were good. He has explained to me: “I don’t just write for scientists. I want ordinary people to read it as well. You should understand what comparative behavioral research is. What ethology is. What evolution is. I want to interpret that for a wide audience, not just scientists.” The humanist... Konrad was a personality with immensely many facets. For example, he was an excellent connoisseur of Goethe. He could recite long passages from many of his works by heart. He also always had some Faust verses ready that were appropriate to a situation. If the situation was somehow critical, for example, he used to say: " “Zu diesem Schritt sich heiter zu entschließen und wär' es mit Gefahr, ins Nichts dahin zu fließen”. He constantly had other Faust quotes on the tip of his tongue. He considered me as his diligent student and often said: "So, listen Werner. If you want to exist in your later life as a doctor, then you must have a good memory. You must be able to speak freely, and above all, it is important that you practice your memory here in this misery. If you don't strain your brain cells, you will somehow atrophy. Write down the Faust text that I have." ...and delousing The delousing clinic played a significant role in the camp. Namely, no one who had come with a transport from Kirov was allowed to be sent to work without having been deloused beforehand. The delousing system was quite something. The clothes were hung inside, and one had to be extremely careful not to let them fall onto the heated pipes on the floor. Otherwise, the entire delousing system would have gone up in flames and exploded. That had already happened to me once and should not happen again. Therefore, we paid great attention to ensuring that the comrades hung their clothing in such a way that they did not come into contact with the heating coils. Konrad operated the system always cheerfully and with great enthusiasm. He sat on a felled tree stump nearby and repeatedly stoked the fire. And it gave him great pleasure when he saw through the inspection window how the lice suddenly became restless and crawled towards the window. Then the lice burst, and not only the lice but also the nits were killed. It was a hundred percent delousing that we achieved in this way. The psychologist and lifesaver Konrad Lorenz, it must be said, passed his test as a doctor under extreme living conditions with flying colors, solely through his psychotherapeutic help and treatments. Through his work, of which I am one hundred percent certain, he gave many of his comrades courage again and restored their will to live. Through him, they began to believe in returning home again. Konrad lifted many out of depression, including myself. Perhaps that was his greatest achievement as a doctor behind Soviet barbed wire. And solely through that, he earned great merit for the wartime generation. I also count myself among those whose lives he saved. After a period of hunger in early March 1947, we were served a so-called Kascha soup with meat after about eight days. I was hungry as a bear and ate a whole pot of this Kascha with mutton. However, the mutton was spoiled. In a state of dystrophy [malnutrition] and dehydration [exsiccation], I also got diarrhea and lost even more fluid. And when there was no more fluid left, my kidneys stopped functioning. So I became unconscious, could no longer get up due to weakness. Konrad saw me lying like that, saw my nose getting sharper, my pulse getting faster, how I was visibly deteriorating, and said: "Good Lord, he's dying, that's it." And then he acted and performed a real medical feat: He went to the kitchen and filled a bucket with five liters of water. We also had a packet of Dextropur in the infirmary, pure glucose. With 500g of pure glucose and the water, he made a five percent solution, boiled it on the stove, and let it cool. When he came back to me with it, I was practically fading away. As he leaned over me, I looked at him again and said, "Konrad, I'm a poor devil." Then I sank into unconsciousness, while he performed the great feat of finding a vein in me, although all the veins had collapsed. After some searching, he finally managed to position a single needle in a vein in my right arm and fix it with a small strip of plaster. He sat down beside my bed with a ten-cubic-centimeter syringe from the infirmary and repeatedly drew ten cubic centimeters and injected it into this cannula, 24 hours straight. And lo and behold, after about 24 hours, I woke up again. In between, however, I had a near-death experience: I saw a glorified blue sky and an infinite expanse of trees, white blooming like cherry trees. The splendor and abundance of light and the infinite peace that lay over that landscape have remained in my memory. When I suddenly opened my eyes again in the early hours of March 11, 1947, Konrad's face was above me. At a time when I was closer to death than ever before, I saw the face of my fatherly friend Konrad Lorenz as the first thing after waking up again. And since then, I am convinced that although imprinting is otherwise only possible in early youth, at that time, an imprinting took place in me at the advanced age of twenty years. Fight against scarcity Konrad's skills as a doctor gradually earned respect from the Russians as well. In the Chalturin camp, he recognized an illness among prisoners of war that the Russians had misdiagnosed: Our comrades suddenly experienced paresthesia [tingling, numbness of limbs] and subsequent paralysis due to malnutrition and vitamin deficiency, which were so severe that several even suffered respiratory paralysis and died. The Russians believed that these comrades were suffering from toxic diphtheria. Even in cases of toxic diphtheria, paresthesia and irreparable paralysis can occur, they knew that very well. However, Konrad was able to convince them that it was polyneuropathy [damage to certain nerve pathways] due to a vitamin deficiency, with vitamin C deficiency being predominant, according to his statements. The Russians took action and procured vitamin C, which was then administered in the camp. And behold, the paresthesia and paralysis disappeared. The prisoners became capable of working again, and Konrad Lorenz was the great miracle doctor. He spoke with the Russians and told them that he was also a scientist and was involved in a new science, ethology, or comparative behavioral research. And he asked them to allow him to put down on paper what he knew about his science so far, so that he would not waste any time of his life. I knew that he had last held the chair of Immanuel Kant in Königsberg, one of the most prestigious chairs that German universities had to offer. He was visibly proud of that. But he also told me that he was unfortunately drafted into the Wehrmacht too early and then came to Posen, where he worked in a hospital, and later went to Vitebsk for frontline service as a doctor. What was extraordinary was that he was integrated into the fighting troops and was captured. He later explained this to me: The Russian soldier who captured him stood with a loaded rifle next to him. But after he realized that Konrad was defenseless, he experienced what is known as inhibition of killing. He couldn't shoot the unarmed Konrad Lorenz and instead asked him to stand up and come along. It was solely due to this circumstance, the inhibition of killing of a Red Army soldier, that he owed his life. He mentioned this episode to me several times: "That was the sore point in my life," he used to say, "I was almost shot back then, and no one would have cared about me anymore. But as it happened, I made it through, and fate took its course." It must be known that the supply of prisoners of war in Armenia was particularly difficult because the Armenians themselves did not have much to eat. This also meant that the supply did not work out. From February until shortly before Konrad arrived in the camp, the prisoners of war were fed exclusively on flour. They simply put sacks of flour in the camp, and we had to figure out how to deal with it. In other words, we had flour soup in the morning, flour dumplings for lunch, and flour porridge for dinner. Without any meat or vitamin supplements, this led to a disaster. The comrades suffered from the so-called flour malnutrition. They became dystrophic and soon suffered from the severe form of dystrophy, called edematous dystrophy. Their legs swelled, their skin burst, there were secondary infections of ulcers on the legs, so many became unable to work. Therefore, we tried to improve the vitamin content by adding dandelions and herbs that grew along the roadside. We also cooked large amounts of nettles into the soup, but of course, this could not achieve the desired effect in the long run. The avitaminosis [vitamin deficiency disease] also caused many comrades to become night-blind. The so-called hemeralopia [night blindness] played a significant role at that time. At night, none of the sick comrades could leave the shelter and go to the latrine without being led by another comrade, to prevent them from falling into the latrine or running into the barbed wire fence. Because approaching the barbed wire immediately triggered an alarm, and the Russians started shooting. Additionally, the night's rest was always disturbed by the yelling of the Russian guards, who shouted to each other and sang songs. So we were constantly hungry. And this hunger had to be fought in some way. Something had to be organized. Konrad Lorenz was one of the most inventive and successful organizers when it came to combating hunger. For example, from time to time, cows were slaughtered on a meadow outside the camp. Then we temporarily had a few pieces of meat in our soup. The large marrow bones were left behind. Konrad saw this and asked if he could have the bones. The Russians wondered what he was planning to do with the bones. Konrad had a large iron bucket brought from the forge and then smashed the bones with an iron pestle. Once they were small enough, he threw them into a pot and boiled them in the kitchen. When the broth cooled, he skimmed off the bone fat and filled it into cans. The fat had to be stored cool to avoid becoming rancid shortly. We buried it in a shady spot near the infirmary – that was our refrigerator. However, I said, "Konrad, we are not used to fat at all anymore. If we eat the fat, we'll probably get stomach cramps and diarrhea." However, he stubbornly replied, "I'll try it anyway!" – And behold, it didn't take long before he had diarrhea and had to run to the latrine constantly. He even persuaded me to give it a try. I only did it once, and I had a similar experience. But after Konrad tried it several times, he kept the bread with the bone fat for himself. He survived through that acute phase of hunger. But he also did not scorn other "additional food." Once a Russian officer passed through the camp, who had shot a buzzard. Konrad saw the dead bird and asked, "What are you going to do with the dead buzzard?" The Russian replied, "I'll throw it away, I only shot it for my pleasure." Konrad asked, "Can I have this buzzard?" To which the Russian replied, "If you want it, you can have it." As soon as the Russian officer was gone, Konrad plucked the bird, removed its innards, singed it, dissected it, and fried it in the kitchen. He ate it up completely. It agreed with him well, and he didn't have diarrhea afterwards. He wanted to share some with me, but of course, I felt disgust and declined. It was similar with the snake: One of our comrades brought a snake, about one meter long, which he had killed from the construction site. He showed it to Konrad because he knew he was a zoologist, someone who knows about animals. Konrad took the snake, skinned it, dissected it, fried it, and ate it up. Even this "snake feast" agreed with him. The next miracle that completely perplexed the camp community and the Russians, including the officers, was the experiment with the lizard: We had a lizard population in the camp. The animals liked to sunbathe on the basalt cones in the camp. I can still remember exactly how Konrad sat on these basalt cones for several days, observing the lizards until he must have known each one individually. Anyway, he managed to catch a lizard. He got a box, put the lizard in it, and then went to the Russian guard and called the officer who had given him the buzzard. He asked him if he would like to come and see an experiment. The officer came and brought several guards with him. It was around noon, so there were prisoners in the camp as well, and Konrad called them over too. Then he showed us his lizard experiment: He took the animal out of the box, put it on the table in the infirmary, and stroked the lizard with his hands. The lizard made a leap and landed on its back. Everyone was amazed. The Russians even stepped back. They had never seen anything like it, let alone considered it possible. After a while, Konrad stroked the lizard again. It made a leap and was back on its feet. That was the last straw. The Russians ran away. They pushed their caps back and said about Konrad, he was in league with the devil. So Konrad Lorenz was always a topic of conversation. The Austrian professor, they said, wasn't he a great man, who knew how to get by. The food was often so bad that we thought we wouldn't survive. So when I finally learned the Faust verses, we organized recitation evenings. We invited the officers and all interested people. Konrad and I then performed Faust, or rather, we interpreted it. Of course, Konrad could do that too; he wasn't just a Faust interpreter, he was also a Goethe interpreter. The listeners were enthusiastic and repeatedly asked us to perform again. While we played, while we spread intellectual nourishment, they forgot their hunger just as much as we forgot ours. Bad news from home One day, a comrade from the German camp administration came and brought Konrad a postcard. He read this card, and I saw how he changed color and somehow slackened while reading it. I observed this from very close and knew right away that there must have been something special on this card, even before Konrad said to me, "Werner, my father has passed away." He was deeply shaken. Then he handed me the card. I read this card, written by Konrad's wife Gretl, myself. Konrad then took it back, went to the infirmary, lay down on his straw sack there, and was unresponsive until late into the night, mourning deeply for his father. He would have loved to see his father again. His father had been especially proud of him when he finally managed to be appointed to the chair of Kant in Königsberg. I also know that his father had visited him in Königsberg and even stayed there for a while. After receiving the news of his father's death, Konrad held proper memorial sessions for his father for seven days. During this time, he did not continue writing his Russian manuscript but devoted himself entirely to thoughts of his father. During this phase, he also told me about the contents of the book "I Was Allowed to Help" that his father had written. Not only to me, but also to other listeners, including some officers we had gotten to know a little better. When he finished his eulogy, often late into the night, he always quoted verses from Faust: "If, as a young man, you honor your father, then you would gladly be received by him. If, as a man, you increase knowledge, your son can achieve a higher goal." and "Oh, fortunate is he who still can hope to emerge from this sea of error. What one does not know, one needs; and what one knows, one cannot use." The camp doctor... It was a special trait of Konrad's that he did not withdraw as a professor but, on the contrary, integrated himself into the camp community as a doctor. He took over the infirmary. I deliberately said, "Konrad, you run the infirmary, then you have constant contact with our people. They not only tell you about the complaints they have at the moment, but they also tell you how they have been treated at their workplaces. Whether they have been beaten, whether their performance has been recognized, or whether they have been degraded." He took note of all this with an open ear. And it was essential that there was a listener. This was often more important than distributing any pills, which we had in very limited numbers anyway. Even when the Russians came, they usually demanded medication, although the medicines in the infirmary were actually intended for our prisoners of war. But they were the masters and sometimes demanded, for example, sulfonamides, which were very rare, if they had pneumonia or something similar. Our comrades were then naturally lacking them. But for Konrad, a patient was first and foremost a patient, whether prisoner or Russian, that is, the oppressor. In such moments, it did not matter. And precisely because he never made a distinction, he was so respected by the Russians. They respected him. So he was successful with his comrades, but also with the Russians. Unfortunately, during the heavy work that our comrades had to do in building the power plant, there were also instances of abuse: beatings with rifle butts, but also kicks led to injuries. The injured comrades were brought to our camp. When a prisoner was beaten so severely that several ribs were broken, both Konrad and I intervened and called in the camp commander. We made it clear to him that this man had been beaten and abused at the workplace for no reason. Konrad did not mince words. He said, "We are prisoners of war. We are defenseless here. But the war is over. The Geneva Convention prohibits the mistreatment of prisoners of war. What you are doing violates human rights." We could hear references to the Geneva Convention on various occasions from him. And he also said to me, "Werner, it's better if you are consistent and accuse the Russians when they do something wrong, then they will have more respect for you than if you cower before them." I followed this later in other camps. I had lost my fear of the Russians. And by appearing in a certain way and referring to the Geneva Convention, I achieved more than I could have by submissive behavior. Once, we severely reprimanded the Russians. There was a forge nearby. There was a blacksmith in a dark room with almost no ventilation. In the middle was the anvil where the iron was forged, so it naturally smoked heavily. The draft was completely insufficient, and this comrade was brought to us into the camp two or three times half unconscious with chronic carbon monoxide poisoning. After repeatedly pointing this out to the Russians, at least a larger exhaust was broken into this forge. Also, many comrades had accidents during the underground work because safety measures were not observed at all. Many had no helmets and no headgear at all. The equipment they worked with was more than primitive. Bone fractures and severe head injuries were commonplace. Konrad had to come to terms with this as the camp doctor in Sevan. ...und Zoologe But in Sevan, the zoologist in him also came to the forefront. The camp was located on a plateau. Therefore, there were plenty of birds, as he later told me: starlings, sparrows en masse, and even larks. Anyway, with the help of some comrades and wire he obtained from the construction sites, he made several cages and then caught a young starling, two house sparrows, and a crested lark. He had dealt with starlings before. And now he wanted to tame this starling. So he put it in the cage, then carried the cage into a closed room, opened it there, and let the starling fly. He had a long stick with him, with which he threatened the star whenever it left the cage. Eventually, the star realized that if I fly back into the cage, I won't be threatened anymore. He repeated this experiment so many times until the star was tamed. When he later took it to Yerevan, all he had to do was raise the stick, and behold, the bird returned to its cage. In addition to the star, which he named Friedrich and which later went down in the history of ornithology, he also brought his two house sparrows and the crested lark in the cage to Yerevan. In the camp in Arabkir, the cages were hung on the south side and played a significant role for the prisoners of war. Those who suffered from dystrophy and those who were unable to work were sitting in the camp with nothing to do. So they amused themselves by catching flies for the birds. Thus, the starling, the crested lark, and the sparrows there were well-fed, and the prisoners of war had their entertainment. When we had lunch break and there was no infirmary, Konrad and I regularly met. Then he let the starling fly. He simply opened the door, and the starling flew out. It was lively and flew to the gutters, to the telegraph poles, and circled over the camp. This naturally attracted many spectators. Not only the prisoners of war but also the Russian guards came and watched as the starling flew around. But as soon as Konrad raised the stick, the bird either returned directly to the cage or boldly landed on his master's head or shoulder. In addition to the laughter of the prisoners of war, you could then hear the Russians cursing. The Russians liked to curse, not only when something didn't suit them but also when they were amazed. And when the starling sat on Lorenz's head, I could hear them say repeatedly: Well, the professor really has a bird! Reality in Yerevan The bodies of deceased comrades had to lie for three hours and were not to be touched. Then they were picked up and taken to a shed for dissection. Every corpse in Yerevan had to be dissected. To my great fortune, when I was in Prague, I had participated in a dissection course once. So I could dissect. I had to work with very primitive instruments, but it worked. Next to me stood a Russian captain doctor who inspected the exposed organs, kept records, and of course, indicated the cause of death. The cause of death was clear in very many cases: the patients had starved. But this could not be documented in the records. There it said died of tuberculosis, of pneumonia, and the like. Death by starvation as such was not allowed to be documented. It naturally affected me greatly to have to dissect my comrades under the most primitive conditions while rats jumped around me. At that time, Konrad kept saying, "Werner, you will survive this too." Every time I returned exhausted and depressed from such a dissection, he lifted me up. We constantly motivated each other when we were almost at the end. Konrad's journey home After the Russian chief physician, Joseph Gregorian, (Werner Straube is likely misremembering renowned Armenian architect Mark Grigorian’s actual name; I believe he is referring to him and Grigorian in his term promised to forward his request to Hovsep Orbeli – Armenian Explorer) promised Konrad to forward his request to take his manuscript home, Konrad was naturally extremely tense. He kept wondering, "Will he do it? Will I succeed in what I'm planning now?" He tried to cope with this inner tension by lecturing me until late into the night, just to pass the time. When he talked about Darwin, he sometimes could hardly find an end. For me, it was highly interesting to delve into this science. It was also important for Konrad to share his views on Sigmund Freud. And I can only say that it was an extremely positive attitude; otherwise, he would not have become so eloquent and detailed on this topic. He was also fascinated by Kantian philosophy, which he often spoke about. He corresponded with Max Planck, whom he greatly admired. Planck meant a lot to him, and there were also bridges concerning evolutionary epistemology. Konrad informed me that he had corresponded with Planck and that through this correspondence, he had found out how much he and Planck agreed on epistemological issues. And he always regretted greatly that he could not experience Planck anymore, as he had passed away in 1947. After weeks of waiting, a representative of the Russian camp commander came and gave Konrad a document stating: Konrad Lorenz, Professor, is ordered to the Academy of Physiological Sciences in Moscow. Immediately. This meant that Konrad had to get ready for departure from Yerevan within a few hours. This caused a stir. He was first called to the clothing store, where he was dressed anew. The result of this dressing was a disaster. When he came back, I hardly recognized him; he looked like a scarecrow. He wore a shako and a coat that was much too long and so big that his hands barely visible. His trousers hung like an accordion over the new shoes, of which hardly anything was visible. In this attire, Konrad prepared for departure. However, the most important thing was that he still had to bundle his manuscript. He used strings for that. He had also insisted on a backpack because he had to transport his bundle of papers somehow. Additionally, he still carried his two bird cages with the starling, the two house sparrows, and the crested lark that were so dear to him. The departure was scheduled for three o'clock. His departure deeply affected me. With him, I not only lost a fatherly friend but also my second father, so to speak. I had lost my biological father to illness at the age of nine. Now, I was losing another father who had been a guiding light in my life. And by now, I could very well assess what I owed to Konrad Lorenz. The most important thing I owed him was my life. But it was much more than that. Comrade Konrad Lorenz, like me, possessed a humanistic education. When I voluntarily applied to the military medical academy in Berlin, I read above the entrance the motto under which we military doctors were supposed to practice our profession later: Scientiae Humanitati Patriae. I never forgot this motto even in captivity. And not for nothing does the word humanitas stand in the middle of this saying. That is the most essential thing in medical ethics, to serve humanity. By the victorious nation, by the Russians, this humanity was trampled underfoot behind barbed wire. We were deprived of rights; we possessed nothing but our lives and had to figure out how to survive. The only endeavor in Russian captivity was indeed to survive, no matter what. Konrad encouraged me in this, and not only me but all the comrades he psychologically supported and urged not to lose courage, not to lose faith, not to let the hope of returning home fade. When hope fades, life is lost. So Konrad tried to make us laugh by, for example, telling his animal stories. The comrades sitting around him sometimes held their stomachs from laughing. It was the most effective psychotherapy I have ever encountered. Gallery You May Also Like How to Visit ROT54 (Aragats Scientific Center) – Full Guide Shvanidzor’s 17th-Century Aqueduct: Armenia’s Ancient Engineering Marvel Grigor Khanjyan’s Monumental Fresco at the Yerevan Cascade From Stendhal Syndrome to Suren Syndrome Tirinkatar Sacred Valley: Armenia’s High-Altitude Valley of Dragon Stones How to Choose a Local Guide in Armenia Komitas Pantheon in Yerevan Gallery of Mineral Waters in Jermuk

This article explores Grigor Khanjyan’s monumental fresco-triptych, a decade-long masterpiece displayed in the Khandjian Gallery at Yerevan’s Cafesjian Art Center. Depicting key chapters of Armenian history—The Armenian Alphabet, Vardanank, and Resurrected Armenia—it is Khanjyan’s most celebrated work. Created under extreme conditions and completed after the artist’s death, the fresco stands as a powerful symbol of Armenia’s artistic, historical, and cultural identity. < Back Grigor Khanjyan’s Monumental Fresco at the Yerevan Cascade This article explores Grigor Khanjyan’s monumental fresco-triptych, a decade-long masterpiece displayed in the Khandjian Gallery at Yerevan’s Cafesjian Art Center. Depicting key chapters of Armenian history—The Armenian Alphabet, Vardanank, and Resurrected Armenia—it is Khanjyan’s most celebrated work. Created under extreme conditions and completed after the artist’s death, the fresco stands as a powerful symbol of Armenia’s artistic, historical, and cultural identity. A vast fresco-triptych illustrating the history of Armenia is exhibited in the Khandjian Gallery at the Cafesjian Art Center in Yerevan. Widely regarded as Grigor Khanjyan’s greatest achievement, the monument consists of three large-scale scenes commissioned during the Soviet period and left unfinished at the time of the artist’s death: The Armenian Alphabet (1992–1994), Vardanank (1995–1998), and Resurrected Armenia (1998–2000). The origins of the project date back to 1978, when Catholicos Vazgen I commissioned Khanjyan to create sketches based on the themes of Vardanank and the Armenian Alphabet for two monumental tapestries. While the Armenian Alphabet is self-explanatory, Vardanank refers to the heroic struggle of the Armenians, led by Vardan Mamikonian, against the Sassanid Persian Empire in 451 AD. Catholicos of All Armenians Vazgen I and Grigor Khanjyan In the summer of 1984, Khanjyan’s works The Armenian Alphabet and Vardanank were presented to the public for the first time. The tapestry sketches were exhibited at the House of the Artist in Yerevan and immediately attracted enormous attention. For weeks, thousands of visitors came daily to see the works, which touched upon some of the most significant chapters of Armenia’s past. The tapestries were later woven in France at the renowned Pinton Brothers workshop in Felletin, near Aubusson—an internationally famous center for high-quality tapestry production. In 1984, the finished tapestries were installed in the Pontifical Residence (Veharan) in Vagharshapat. As the residence was not open to the general public, access to the artworks remained limited, despite widespread public interest. Catholicos of All Armenians Vazgen I and Grigor Khanjyan at the House of Artists, 1981 To make the works accessible to everyone, Karen Demirchyan, then First Secretary of the Communist Party’s Central Committee, asked Khanjyan to recreate the compositions as monumental murals. Initially, the murals were planned for installation in the newly built Sports and Concert Complex (now the Karen Demirchyan Sports and Concert Complex), but no suitable wall was found. Instead, Khanjyan created the monumental Mother Armenia curtain-goblet for the complex, which was the second largest of its kind in the Soviet Union. At the suggestion of his close friend, architect Jim Torosyan, Khanjyan turned to the Cascade Complex, which was still under construction. A separate hall was allocated for the project. Specialists from Moscow prepared the wall and applied a special primer, creating the surface needed for the murals. Grigor Khanjyan at the construction of the Cascade with architect Jim Torosyan (left) Khanjyan started painting the frescoes in 1992 using the tempera technique. Each cardboard sketch was individually attached to the wall; one by one, Khanjyan removed them, traced the outlines, and applied the paint. The Armenian Alphabet was completed in 1994, followed by Vardanank in 1998. Khanjyan then added a third composition, Resurrected Armenia , on which he worked from 1998 until 2000. Grigory Khanjyan’s monumental fresco-triptych The artist worked entirely alone under harsh conditions. The hall was cold, often without electricity or proper equipment. Khanjyan suffered from serious health problems, including deteriorating eyesight. The death of his wife, Jemma, in 1997 was a devastating personal loss. Despite all this, he continued to work with remarkable determination, often without adequate compensation. Sadly, Resurrected Armenia remained unfinished. Grigor Khanjyan died on April 19, 2000. After his death, the work was continued by Professor Henrik Mamyan, a distinguished artist and professor at the Institute of Fine Arts, who followed Khanjyan’s original sketches. The work was completed in 2002. Grigor Khanjyan is working on the third part of the mural “Resurrected Armenia.” At the time, there were discussions about repurposing the first hall of the Cascade for official reception or ceremonial use, which alarmed Khanjyan’s family and the intellectual community. The situation was resolved when Gerard Cafesjian acquired the Cascade Complex, ensuring the preservation of the frescoes. The Cascade was subsequently renamed the Cafesjian Art Center, and the hall housing the murals became the Khanjyan Gallery. Today, the Cafesjian Art Center is one of Yerevan’s most visited cultural landmarks, and Khanjyan’s monumental fresco-triptych remains one of the city’s most profound artistic treasures. The Khanjyan Gallery is located within the Cafesjian Center for the Arts and is open from Friday to Sunday, 8:00 AM to 8:00 PM. The center is closed from Monday to Thursday. Entrance is free. Gallery You May Also Like How to Visit ROT54 (Aragats Scientific Center) – Full Guide Shvanidzor’s 17th-Century Aqueduct: Armenia’s Ancient Engineering Marvel Grigor Khanjyan’s Monumental Fresco at the Yerevan Cascade From Stendhal Syndrome to Suren Syndrome Tirinkatar Sacred Valley: Armenia’s High-Altitude Valley of Dragon Stones How to Choose a Local Guide in Armenia Komitas Pantheon in Yerevan Gallery of Mineral Waters in Jermuk

It was already getting dark when we reached this abandoned train station, and the atmosphere left a deep impression on me. Standing there, the iconic statue of a young girl caught my eye—her graceful hand gesture, once holding a pigeon, now seemed to highlight the eerie beauty of this forgotten place. In this article, you’ll discover the history, development, and decline of this remarkable site. Highly recommended for urbex photographers and history enthusiasts visiting Armenia. < Back Near the Armenian–Iranian border stands a beautiful, abandoned train station It was already getting dark when we reached this abandoned train station, and the atmosphere left a deep impression on me. Standing there, the iconic statue of a young girl caught my eye—her graceful hand gesture, once holding a pigeon, now seemed to highlight the eerie beauty of this forgotten place. In this article, you’ll discover the history, development, and decline of this remarkable site. Highly recommended for urbex photographers and history enthusiasts visiting Armenia. The Meghri–Nakhichevan railway line, including the Meghri station, was launched in the autumn of 1943, during World War II. It was built to support industrial freight transport and to connect southern parts of Armenia with the wider Soviet rail network. At the time, the railway offered the only practical alternative to the long and difficult highway between Yerevan and Meghri. The Yerevan–Baku railway began in Yerevan, passed through Nakhichevan, Meghri, and Kapan, and continued to Baku, with approximately 40 kilometers of the line running along Armenia’s southern border near Iran. This railway served as a crucial link between Yerevan, the Azerbaijani exclave of Nakhichevan, and Baku. (Historically, Nakhichevan was part of Armenia until 1921, when it was transferred to Azerbaijan by the Bolsheviks. On March 16, 1921, Soviet Russia and Turkey signed the Treaty of Moscow, placing Nakhichevan under the “protectorate” of Soviet Azerbaijan. Before that, it had been part of the First Republic of Armenia.) In the 1960s, a new station building was constructed in Meghri. Later, in the 1970s, Azerbaijani authorities planned to install a bust of Mashadi Azizbekov, an Azerbaijani Bolshevik and one of the Baku Commissars. However, one night, a bust of Stepan Shahumyan, a prominent Armenian revolutionary, mysteriously appeared in its place — secretly relocated from the Agarak mining combine. The bust remained in place until 1993, when it was damaged by vandals. It lay discarded beneath its pedestal for almost 3 decades before ultimately disappearing in recent years. In the station’s final years of operation, 20 to 23 trains, each with more than 50 wagons, passed through Meghri daily in both directions. After the collapse of the Soviet Union and the outbreak of the Artsakh liberation war, freight wagons loaded in Meghri and routed through Nakhichevan no longer reached Yerevan. As a result, the operation of the station was inevitably suspended, and the last train passed through Meghri on the night of April 23, 1992. By 2003, the railway section from Kapan to Meghri had been dismantled, and approximately 70 wagons and rails were scrapped. Today, what remains is a quiet, nostalgic scene: the cozy station building, a few rusting carriages, the empty pedestal where Shahumyan's bust once stood, and a statue of a young girl — her graceful pose as if pointing toward the silent echoes of a once-vibrant station. I’m Suren, a professional urban explorer in Armenia. I offer unique urbex tours to abandoned, hidden, and off-the-map places you won’t find in guidebooks. Want a custom itinerary? Contact me on WhatsApp or Telegram . Project Gallery You May Also Like Inside the Eerie Corridors of an Abandoned Russian Fortress Soviet Bus Stops in Armenia Urbex Tours in Armenia – Photo Gallery The 53 cm Schmidt Telescope at Byurakan Astrophysical Observatory Exploring an Abandoned Rest House with Impressive Bas-Reliefs A Spaceship on Earth: The Soviet-Armenian Echo of the Futuro House Destroyed Soviet Mosaics and Frescoes in Armenia The Chayka Monument That Angered Nikita Khrushchev During His 1961 Visit to Armenia Previous Next

Armenia, renowned for its rich cultural heritage and breathtaking landscapes, is home to a geological wonder known as the Symphony of Stones. Nestled within the picturesque Garni Gorge, this natural hexagonal basalt formation captivates visitors with its unique look. In this article, you will learn how basalt columns are formed and discover some of the most famous places with columnar jointed volcanics. < Back Symphony of Stones in Garni Gorge Armenia, renowned for its rich cultural heritage and breathtaking landscapes, is home to a geological wonder known as the Symphony of Stones. Nestled within the picturesque Garni Gorge, this natural hexagonal basalt formation captivates visitors with its unique look. In this article, you will learn how basalt columns are formed and discover some of the most famous places with columnar jointed volcanics. The Symphony of Stones is a collection of basalt columns that resemble towering organ pipes, hence its poetic name. These hexagonal basalt formations were formed millions of years ago during volcanic activity when lava rapidly cooled and solidified. Over time, natural forces such as wind and water eroded the softer rock around the basalt columns, sculpting them into the striking formations seen today. Garni gorge and the Symphony of Stones While unique to Armenia, similar basalt column formations can be found around the world. Famous examples include Fingal's Cave in Scotland, Devil's Tower in the USA, Svartifoss waterfall in Iceland, and Giant's Causeway on the north coast of Northern Ireland. These natural wonders continue to inspire awe and curiosity, drawing visitors from all corners of the globe to witness nature's artistic prowess. Close to the Symphony of Stones in Garni Gorge, visitors can also see the Azat Bridge, built between the 11th and 12th centuries from black tuff. The single-vaulted bridge has pillars spaced about 10 meters apart. Restoration work began in 2006, was interrupted, and resumed in 2012, finally completing in 2013. However, despite restoration efforts, the bridge lost its historic appearance. Azat bridge in the Garni gorge As Armenia continues to embrace sustainable tourism practices, the Symphony of Stones remains a jewel in its natural crown, beckoning visitors to listen to its ancient melody and marvel at the harmonious interplay of geological forces. Photographers find ample opportunities to capture the interplay of light and shadow on the columns, especially during sunrise and sunset when the landscape is bathed in warm hues. Gallery You May Also Like How to Visit ROT54 (Aragats Scientific Center) – Full Guide Shvanidzor’s 17th-Century Aqueduct: Armenia’s Ancient Engineering Marvel Grigor Khanjyan’s Monumental Fresco at the Yerevan Cascade From Stendhal Syndrome to Suren Syndrome Tirinkatar Sacred Valley: Armenia’s High-Altitude Valley of Dragon Stones How to Choose a Local Guide in Armenia Komitas Pantheon in Yerevan Gallery of Mineral Waters in Jermuk

In this article, you will learn about the cemetery of German war prisoners in the Slabotka district of Gyumri, where their memory is honored by visitors from Armenia, Germany, and beyond. < Back The Cemetery of German POWs in Gyumri In this article, you will learn about the cemetery of German war prisoners in the Slabotka district of Gyumri, where their memory is honored by visitors from Armenia, Germany, and beyond. During and after World War II, thousands of German prisoners of war were transported to Armenia, where they participated in various labor projects. The total number of prisoners of war in Armenia amounted to around 16,160. Among them was the renowned Austrian zoologist, ethologist, and ornithologist Konrad Lorenz, who later shared the 1973 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine with Nikolaas Tinbergen and Karl von Frisch. I previously wrote an article titled " Konrad Lorenz's Life as a Prisoner of War in Armenia "—feel free to check it out! As in other parts of Armenia, in Gyumri—known as Leninakan during Soviet times—German prisoners of war primarily worked on construction projects in the "Nor Avan" neighborhood. Their labor was also used for road building, and it was these prisoners who laid the stone-paved streets that still adorn the city center today. Sadly, many of these prisoners did not survive long enough to return to their homeland and passed away in Armenia. Today, several cemeteries in Armenia remain preserved where these prisoners were buried. One such cemetery is located in the "Slabotka" district of Gyumri, next to the former prison. Here, 369 German prisoners of war are buried. From time to time, German tourists visit this site to pay their respects to their compatriots. Modest crosses can be seen covering the cemetery, along with an information board and an inscription in German and Russian: 'Here lie the prisoners of war—victims of the Second World War.'" Years ago, the graves were numbered to help relatives from Germany locate the resting places of their loved ones. In the 1970s, the body of a German colonel was taken back to Germany by his family. According to some accounts, one of the former prisoners, after returning to Germany, provided financial support to help establish this cemetery for his fellow countrymen. The cemetery was maintained until the 1988 earthquake. Before the earthquake, the cemetery caretaker was a man named Spiridon. Despite having fought in the Great Patriotic War and being wounded by Germans, Spiridon took care of the prisoners' cemetery and ensured its upkeep. Neighbors testify that after Spiridon's passing, no one has taken over the responsibility of looking after the cemetery. When I visited the cemetery, it looked neat and well-preserved. From the top of the hillside where it's located, there was a beautiful view opening up toward the city of Gyumri. I’m Suren, a professional urban explorer in Armenia. I offer unique urbex tours to abandoned, hidden, and off-the-map places you won’t find in guidebooks. Want a custom itinerary? Contact me on WhatsApp or Telegram . Project Gallery You May Also Like Inside the Eerie Corridors of an Abandoned Russian Fortress Soviet Bus Stops in Armenia Urbex Tours in Armenia – Photo Gallery The 53 cm Schmidt Telescope at Byurakan Astrophysical Observatory Exploring an Abandoned Rest House with Impressive Bas-Reliefs A Spaceship on Earth: The Soviet-Armenian Echo of the Futuro House Destroyed Soviet Mosaics and Frescoes in Armenia The Chayka Monument That Angered Nikita Khrushchev During His 1961 Visit to Armenia Previous Next

I traced the iconic Raketa boats of Lake Sevan to find out where they are resting now. This article sheds light on their story and final resting places. Once highly popular among visitors, these hydrofoils became one of the true symbols of Lake Sevan. < Back The Soviet “Raketa” boats of Lake Sevan I traced the iconic Raketa boats of Lake Sevan to find out where they are resting now. This article sheds light on their story and final resting places. Once highly popular among visitors, these hydrofoils became one of the true symbols of Lake Sevan. The Raketa (Russian: Раке́та, meaning “Rocket” ) was the first type of hydrofoil boat produced commercially in the Soviet Union. Originally conceived in the late 1940s as Project 340 by chief designer Rostislav Alexeyev , the vessels were manufactured from 1957 until the midst 1970s. The "Raketa" boats of lake Sevan In total, around 400 hydrofoils were built. The first experimental vessel, Raketa-1 , was constructed at the Krasnoye Sormovo shipyard. Serial production was later established at the Feodosiya shipyard “More.” Between 1959 and 1976, 389 Raketas were built, more than thirty of which were exported abroad — to countries such as Austria, Cambodia, England, Finland, China, the Netherlands, and Poland. Their high-speed diesel engines were supplied by the Zvezda factory in Leningrad. One of the 2 "Raketa" boats that is now a restaurant The Raketa quickly became a symbol of Soviet engineering and modernity. They entered commercial service along the Volga River and other waterways across the USSR. One was even operated by the almighty KGB . Armenia also had its share of these iconic vessels. Two Raketas were brought to Lake Sevan , where they became highly popular among locals and tourists. Sleek, fast, and prestigious, they were in service until around 1985 . Today, they survive only as silent relics of a bygone era. Curious about their fate, I decided to track them down. What I found was a story of two very different destinies. One of the Raketas has been transformed into a restaurant on the way to the Artanish Peninsula. Fittingly, it still carries the name Raketa . The second, however, met a far grimmer fate. It sits abandoned on the other side of Sevan, near the road to Hayravank Monastery . Rusting quietly on the lakeshore within the grounds of an unfinished hotel, it is still visible from the highway. Earlier this year, I attempted to get closer for a photo. I parked near a garage — a mistake, as it turned out. The garage belonged to one of the site’s guards. With reconstruction of the hotel now underway, the territory is closely watched. By the time I realized I had taken the wrong path and tried to circle back, the guards had already found me. They were not happy with my presence, and despite my attempts to explain, I was not allowed near the abandoned Raketa. In the territory of the unfinished hotel I saw a swimming pool shaped like lake Sevan For now, the Raketa remains off-limits, a rusting monument to Soviet engineering slowly fading away on the shores of Sevan. But my search isn’t over. I plan to try again — and when I do, I’ll update this story. I’m Suren, a professional urban explorer in Armenia. I offer unique urbex tours to abandoned, hidden, and off-the-map places you won’t find in guidebooks. Want a custom itinerary? Contact me on WhatsApp or Telegram . Project Gallery You May Also Like Inside the Eerie Corridors of an Abandoned Russian Fortress Soviet Bus Stops in Armenia Urbex Tours in Armenia – Photo Gallery The 53 cm Schmidt Telescope at Byurakan Astrophysical Observatory Exploring an Abandoned Rest House with Impressive Bas-Reliefs A Spaceship on Earth: The Soviet-Armenian Echo of the Futuro House Destroyed Soviet Mosaics and Frescoes in Armenia The Chayka Monument That Angered Nikita Khrushchev During His 1961 Visit to Armenia Previous Next

The Armenian language is a unique and fascinating language with a rich history and culture. As one of the oldest languages in the world, Armenian holds a special place not only as a means of communication but also as a vital aspect of Armenia's identity. < Back Armenian Language The Armenian language is a unique and fascinating language with a rich history and culture. As one of the oldest languages in the world, Armenian holds a special place not only as a means of communication but also as a vital aspect of Armenia's identity. Armenian belongs to the Indo-European language family; moreover, it is an independent branch. In the second half of the 19th century, the German linguist Heinrich Hübschmann, in his article "The position of Armenian among the Indo-European languages" published in 1875, proved that Armenian is an independent branch of the Indo-European languages. The commonalities it shares with Persian and other ancient languages (mainly lexical) are not due to origin but are conditioned by loans of a later period. The statue of Mesrop Mashtoc and Koriun in front of Matenadaran The first stage of Armenian is Old Armenian or, as it is commonly called, Grabar. Grabar is the name of the developed literary version of Armenian in the old period. It was used in notebooks, during church ceremonies, and in everyday life. However, over time, the spoken language became so far removed from the written language that the common citizen could not understand it. Nevertheless, grabar was widely used before the 11th century. Middle Armenian or Cilician Armenian was used from the 11th to the 16th century. Of course, it was inferior to Grabar in complexity, but the changes introduced were not enough to make it a language accessible to the public. Frick, Nahapet Kuchak, Grigor Narekatsi, and others created works in this period. Armenian Alphabet Alley in winter. The monument includes sculptures of the 39 letters of the Armenian alphabet and monuments of Armenian greats Ashkharbaar or New Armenian was used from the 17th century and was finally formed in the 19th century. Khachatur Abovian was the pioneer of writing in Ashkharhabar, elevating the language from its traditional oral usage to a literary medium and significantly contributing to its development. Today, the Armenian language is considered the main means of communication for the Armenian people worldwide. Modern Armenian is presented to the public in two branches: Western Armenian and Eastern Armenian. Eastern Armenian is widespread in Armenia, Artsakh, Iran, and post-Soviet countries, while Western Armenian was used in historical Western Armenia and is now spoken in settlements created as a result of the genocide. Despite regional variations, both dialects share a common linguistic core, reinforcing the unity among Armenians globally. Armenian Alphabet The Armenian alphabet was created by Mesrop Mashtots in 405. The creation of the Armenian alphabet, known as the "Mesropian script," was a groundbreaking achievement, providing Armenians with a written language that allowed for the preservation of their cultural and religious heritage. The Armenian language has a long literary history, with a 5th-century Bible translation as its oldest surviving text. Despite historical challenges, the language has survived and continues to be a vital part of Armenian identity. Whether through the melodic rhythm of its spoken form or the elegant curves of its unique script, the Armenian language continues to enchant scholars and linguists worldwide. Gallery You May Also Like How to Visit ROT54 (Aragats Scientific Center) – Full Guide Shvanidzor’s 17th-Century Aqueduct: Armenia’s Ancient Engineering Marvel Grigor Khanjyan’s Monumental Fresco at the Yerevan Cascade From Stendhal Syndrome to Suren Syndrome Tirinkatar Sacred Valley: Armenia’s High-Altitude Valley of Dragon Stones How to Choose a Local Guide in Armenia Komitas Pantheon in Yerevan Gallery of Mineral Waters in Jermuk

This giant carpet factory, once bustling with thousands of workers and boasting a capacity to produce 1 million cubic meters of carpet annually, now stands desolate, serving as a solemn reminder of its once illustrious past. The machinery is now being sold for scrap, casting a shadow over its former glory. < Back Exploring an Abandoned Carpet Factory This giant carpet factory, once bustling with thousands of workers and boasting a capacity to produce 1 million cubic meters of carpet annually, now stands desolate, serving as a solemn reminder of its once illustrious past. The machinery is now being sold for scrap, casting a shadow over its former glory. Upon entering the territory of the factory, we saw workers busily engaged outside, transporting Soviet-era buses scattered around the premises to sell for scrap. Two weeks prior, many weaving machines had already been sold for scrap, but fortunately, there was still much to discover within. Volodya, who had worked here since 1972, guided us through the facility. The facade of the admin building of the abandoned carpet factory Established in 1964, this mammoth carpet factory specialized in producing a variety of carpets, including double-walled, jacquard, and five-color varieties, using raw materials such as New Zealand wool, domestic capron, and copper-ammonia fiber. Volodya worked here from 1972... he saw the rise and fall of this industrial giant In 1975, the factory produced an impressive one million cubic meters of carpets, garnering global acclaim for their elegant national decoration and modern design. These carpets were showcased at prestigious international exhibitions in Montreal, Sao Paulo, Beirut, Baghdad, Prague, Plovdiv, Leipzig, and at the Exhibition of Achievements of the People's Economy of the USSR. Notably, the Erebuni-2750 and Gugark carpets received state commendation. The factory's products were distributed widely across the Soviet Union and abroad. I’m Suren, a professional urban explorer in Armenia. I offer unique urbex tours to abandoned, hidden, and off-the-map places you won’t find in guidebooks. Want a custom itinerary? Contact me on WhatsApp or Telegram . Project Gallery You May Also Like Inside the Eerie Corridors of an Abandoned Russian Fortress Soviet Bus Stops in Armenia Urbex Tours in Armenia – Photo Gallery The 53 cm Schmidt Telescope at Byurakan Astrophysical Observatory Exploring an Abandoned Rest House with Impressive Bas-Reliefs A Spaceship on Earth: The Soviet-Armenian Echo of the Futuro House Destroyed Soviet Mosaics and Frescoes in Armenia The Chayka Monument That Angered Nikita Khrushchev During His 1961 Visit to Armenia Previous Next

Within the ruins of this Soviet factory lie hidden artworks, which you will discover in this article as we embark on an exploration! < Back This abandoned factory once produced electrical components Within the ruins of this Soviet factory lie hidden artworks, which you will discover in this article as we embark on an exploration! Unfortunately, there is no information available online about this Soviet-era factory, now left in decay. Even locals seemed reluctant to share details, perhaps due to their youth or lack of knowledge. However, I did learn that during Soviet times, the factory manufactured electrical components. Deep exploration uncovered remnants of the past, including numerous boxes of resistors, now rendered obsolete by advancements in technology. A bas-relief by postwar & contemporary artist Benik Petrosyan Adorning the facade of the building is a marvelous bas-relief by Armenian sculptor Benik Petrosyan. Unfortunately, it is now obscured by vegetation, making it difficult to appreciate. Capturing a clear photo proved to be quite a challenge. Inside the building, I discovered two more bas-reliefs. Резистор - Сделано в СССР. Resistor Made in USSR Another striking piece of art within this abandoned factory is a stained glass window, particularly impressive when viewed from outside. The name of the author is unknown. I’m Suren, a professional urban explorer in Armenia. I offer unique urbex tours to abandoned, hidden, and off-the-map places you won’t find in guidebooks. Want a custom itinerary? Contact me on WhatsApp or Telegram . Project Gallery You May Also Like Inside the Eerie Corridors of an Abandoned Russian Fortress Soviet Bus Stops in Armenia Urbex Tours in Armenia – Photo Gallery The 53 cm Schmidt Telescope at Byurakan Astrophysical Observatory Exploring an Abandoned Rest House with Impressive Bas-Reliefs A Spaceship on Earth: The Soviet-Armenian Echo of the Futuro House Destroyed Soviet Mosaics and Frescoes in Armenia The Chayka Monument That Angered Nikita Khrushchev During His 1961 Visit to Armenia Previous Next