I am attaining a much deeper understanding about the impact of the collapse of the Soviet Union on this area of the world. In Australia, we learned about the Berlin Wall coming down, the fall of the Iron Curtain, the liberation of millions of people from communism. However, the reality for Armenia and Georgia was quite different.

In 1990, this region was full of enormous factories, such as those for extracting copper and producing steel. Along the coast and in the mountains, huge Intourist resorts were under construction, and the Georgian mountains were the training grounds of the Soviet Olympic skiing team. Nuclear power provided electricity across the region, and cheap gas was supplied from the Russia SSR.

After the collapse of the USSR in 1991, the simmering discontent in the region plunged into civil war, rife with ethnic cleaning and countless refugees. Armenia went without electricity for five years, and without gas for ten years. All construction stopped, and the factories shut down. Each country had been specialised to perform a specific function, and now that the supply lines had been cut, everything was paralysed.

Driving through the Caucasus, it is hauntingly easy to imagine life immediately after 1991. The giant factories still stand as monoliths on the outskirts of the cities, and the concrete skeletons of giant holiday resorts still ring Lake Sevan.

Now these countries must slowly rebuild themselves, redefine their identity and find a way to sustainability and progress, all while dealing with internal and external conflicts. Belarus has done an amazing job, and Minsk glimmers with promise and affluence. Armenia still bears the deepest scars of poverty and conflict, and has allied itself with Russia, its major acceptor of its exports.

Georgia has lost much from its war with Russia, and now looks to the West for its future, with many signs in English and Council of Europe flags visible throughout the city. Tbilisi has a very pleasant feel to it, with streets lined with cafes and wide boulevards for evening promenades. Georgia has a way to go before it is eligible for EU membership, but it is encouraging to see it inching away from war and slowly towards open communication and dialogue.

One of the highlights of our trip so far has been the day trip out to Amberd Fortress. This is a 7th century fortress on the slopes of Mount Aragats (not to be confused with Mount Ararat), and its name means “fortress in the clounds”. While these walls once contained a palace filled with silk and gold, for us they formed a stunning backdrop to the tousands of wildflowers that had bloomed throughout the valley. The grass was full of yellow and purple hyacinths and scarlet poppies. We are starting to remember what sunshine feels like.

On the way back into town, our bus weaved through dozens of sheep, as well as a few donkeys. Our guide told us that these were all the sheep from a particular Yezdi village, carefully hearded by professional shepherds sitting upon patient horses while whistling to their eager sheep dogs.

Like Mt Rainier in Washington State USA, Mt Ararat looms over the country of Armenia. It is a national symbol, and can be found on everything from water bottles to the national coat of arms. However Mt Ararat is actually in Turkey, who has lodged diplomatic protests about the use of its mountain by Armenia. The relationship between Armenia and Turkey is very hostile, mostly due to the genocide of Armenians by the Ottoman Empire from 1915, and the border between the two countries remains closed.

What is that boat on top of the mountain? It is Noah’s Ark from the Christian Bible.

But God remembered Noah and all the wild animals and the livestock that were with him in the ark, and he sent a wind over the earth, and the waters receded. Now the springs of the deep and the floodgates of the heavens had been closed, and the rain had stopped falling from the sky. The water receded steadily from the earth. At the end of the hundred and fifty days the water had gone down, and on the seventeenth day of the seventh month the ark came to rest on the mountains of Ararat. ~ Genesis 8:1-4

All the animals and all the creatures that move along the ground and all the birds—everything that moves on the earth—came out of the ark, one kind after another. Then Noah built an altar to the LORD and, taking some of all the clean animals and clean birds, he sacrificed burnt offerings on it. The LORD smelled the pleasing aroma and said in his heart: “Never again will I curse the ground because of man, even though every inclination of his heart is evil from childhood. ~ Genesis 8:19-21

Noah, a man of the soil, proceeded to plant a vineyard. When he drank some of its wine, he became drunk and lay uncovered inside his tent. ~ Genesis 9:20-21

Our guide took us to Etchmiadzin Cathedral (Էջմիածնի եկեղեցի), the oldest Christian church in the world that was built by a state in 301 CE. In their treasury, they proudly displayed items that they claimed were the lance that pierced Jesus during his crucifixion, the right arms of St John the Baptist and Saint Gregory the Illuminator, as well as a piece of wood from Noah’s Arc itself. They had quite a collection.

We have spent six nights in Yerevan, Armenia, with little day trips out to see the sights. On Tuesday we met up with the rest of our Explore tour group, including John, our travel buddy. The rest of the group is about twice our age, but they are friendly and have lots of interesting stories to tell. They call John “Young John the chaperone”.

The Armenians really like their apricots. It was even the subject of their Eurovision song, titled Apricot Stone (Apricot stone / Hidden in my hand / Given back to me /From the motherland ).

And it is one of the colours of their flag:

We were approached several times by people on the street selling apricots or asking if we wanted to take photos of them. Finally they managed to convince us to try some tried apricots and nuts, and they were delicious. We picked some up for our forthcoming picnic lunch. Maybe they are onto something, after all.