Van - Dogubayazit
22 August 2005. The internal Turkish Airlines flight from Istanbul to Van is about 2 hours. My feelings throughout the flight are mixed. I have a fear, but I am also excited. I can’t believe that after so many years of hearing many stories about Van, I will finally land there. This is the town where my family comes from. The view from the aeroplane is breathtaking. It’s very dry and I can’t see a single green spot. Suddenly Lake Van appears. It’s huge and as big as the sea. We Armenians also call it Van Sea (Vana Tzov). Now I understand why. This lake is about 3 times the size of Lake Geneva.
11:00 AM. One of the guides, Gioxu, is at the airport waiting for our arrival. Two transport vans are waiting there and we start loading our bags on top of the vans. The guide also collects our passports, in order to show all our proper identifications at the numerous military checkpoints. We get split into two teams and we get in the vans. The cars do not look in good condition. At least by European standards. At 11:00 AM we start our journey towards Dogubayazit. The atmosphere in the car is good. We joke and we laugh while observing our surroundings. We are also a bit concerned about the checkpoints. After all, we are three Armenians in the car and clearly, we are not considered very welcome.
Our joy gradually dissipates. The journey to Ararat seems endless. We have been driving for more than an hour and we are still next to Lake Van. The roads are in bad condition, even though at some points we notice that there are roadworks. We take a comfort break next to the lake. Almost everyone needs it. We are having discussions in the car about drinking water and the food that we should eat while on Mountain Ararat. We do not trust the food and water that the locals will give us, especially after hearing that the previous teams had diarrhoea issues. We decide to buy our own water and only eat rice and pasta.
1:00 PM. After two hours of driving, we reach a small oasis, the only place where we see some trees and greenery. There is a beautiful waterfall. It’s not a big one and it’s not something special compared to other waterfalls around the world. But in this part of the world, it is the only nice thing. There is a restaurant right opposite the waterfall and we are having lunch: fish from the lake. Gioxu wants us to write some information about ourselves. Name, father’s name, occupation, blood type, address, etc… At that point, I tell him that I am Armenian. I remember his reply. “Are you Armenian? Knouni is an Armenian last name?” Of course, I reply. After that short discussion, I think that I have his full attention. Not necessarily in a bad way.
The road still seems endless. We are quiet in the car. After the small oasis, the landscape changes. Petrified lava to our left, more lava to our right. The scene is dramatic. Thousands of years ago the earth got furious here, and volcanoes started erupting. The land was probably burning for months. We pass by a few settlements made up of mud houses and tents.
3:30 PM. Ararat is starting to make its appearance. Its massive shape is clear even through the hazy weather. We are about 40 min away from Dogubayazit. We stop at a petrol station right outside the small town. It has taken us 4 hours to get there. I get out, and I look at Mount Ararat. Next to Ararat, Small Ararat (Massis) seems small, even though it has a height of about 4000m. At that point, the feeling that Armenians used to live here gets stronger. However, there is no sign left of Armenians around this part of the world. The Turks have done a good job of extinguishing their civilisation. Instead, it has been replaced by the poor Kurdish people. We drive to the centre of the village where we decide to buy 12 litres of bottled water for each person. Then we reach the hotel where we rest for the night.