Dark night
In the same 7th of June, on a dark cold
rainy night, on broken asphalt, messed up gravel we entered Armenia.
At 23.30. In what is Russia’s base into the Caucasus. We were
completely wet, the heater in the border guard’s shack couldn’t do
much. They were checking us from trailer containers, surreal at that
hour and in that weather. Cri was excited, no fear, no complains. I
thought ther’s something wrong with her, but after a few words changed
I realized that she is so formidabely aware of the situation, that she
had noticed the “black windows” SUV with drunken local barons that
crossed the border before us, the tones in the voices of the border
guards, the lenth that we still had to cover that night, the possible
dangers and precations that we have to take, the limited options. It
was such a relieve to know that she knows and feels what I feel, that
she “smells” the darker corners and has instincts, maybe better than
mines. The same night a “cool” BMW that was driving ahead of us didn’t
see what to me seemed an obvious marked curve and went ahead in the
bushes when the road was going to the right. Drunken I assume. They
made an effort and “cought” us latter, just to horn us and show us
they’ve beaten us to the city of Gyumri. Well, we had it good in the
next days .. and Armenians like to race in their Ladas.