Ticket to ride

Yesterday was some kind of holiday in Armenia, so most sites were closed. I wanted to visit a museum where they had some of the oldest books in the world on display. But as everything else, it was closed too. So I spent most of the day just walking around Yerevan.
I also walked to the bus station to buy a bus ticket for Tabriz on Friday. I figured it would be best if I bought it early. You never know how full it would be. I arrived at the bus-station and expected to find a lot of ticket boots. But I only found two. Each contained a very uninspired lady looking at life passing them by. I went to the first and asked "Tabriz?". She gave me a look as if I had just asked her to explain general relativity. "Tabriz, Iran?" She lifted her finger and gave me the "no-no" sign. I looked around at the other bus companies in the bus station. But none of hem were open. I walked to something that looked like "information". Two guys sat there writing something. I asked again "Tabriz, Iran?". One of the guys pointed to the two open boots. "Kacca!". I tried the second lady.
"Tabriz, Iran?". She shook her head. "Teheran". "Tabriz" I said once more. Once more she shook her head. "Teheran!". "Ok". I gave her the finger-sign for money. She jotted down the numbers on the calculator. 22 000 drams. I nodded. I pointed to the calendar. She pointed at Tuesday. I pointed further to the right. She moved her finger one by one day until her finger reached Friday. Thumbs up. She wrote "20" on a piece of paper. Thumbs up again. Communication. Like it.
"Passport!". I gave her my passport. She checked my visa, and jotted down my name. 22 000 drams later, I held the ticket in my hands. I am going to Iran on Friday!
Today, I wanted to go to Goris and maybe to Tatev. I got up early. Gayane made me breakfast. Sausages and tomato. Delicious as always. I paid her, said my goodbuy's and she told me what a wonderful guest I had been. I took a taxi down to where the guide said marshrutkas for Goris should be. Which they weren't. I walked around the area, trying to find someone who knew where they would leave from. Nobody did. So I took a taxi to the bus station. No marshrutkas. I began to become a bit frustrated. So I took a taxi to Envoy Hostel. I knew they knew, and spoke English. The girl in the reception told me I had to go to the train station and that I had 30 minutes to go before the last marshrutka left. I took another taxi to the train station. Only to be told that the last one for Goris had just left. But I was offered to go by shared taxi. Same price, but we had to wait for 3 more passengers.
Now for the waiting game. I am low on drams, so I had no way of paying for all passengers. Otherwise, I would. But after waiting in the heat for 3 hours straight, only one other passenger had arrived. I asked the driver if I paid for two passengers, would he drive then. He agreed.
So we were off. It was now 2 in the afternoon. I was expecting to have arrived in Goris at this time. With 42 degrees in the car, a chainsmoking driver in front and an increasingly drunk passenger in the back, in between them two words of English resulting in sign-language being only form of communication, and countless "gas-stops", "wine-stops","dine-stops" and just stops, we finally arrived in Goris at 7 pm. The driver took me to a hotel where he knew the manager. The room was excellent. So was the price. 6000 drams was cheaper than I had anticipated.
The older guy running the hotel was very eager to take me to Tatev. I am uncertain. I had planned to explore Goris a bit today. But given the late arrival, that wasn't much of an option. It is getting dark. But the walk down to this internet cafe gave me a lust for exploring more.
The older guy was a bit frustrated that I spoke neither Russian nor Armenian. He SO much wanted to drive me to Tatev (for money of course). He called his niece (or maybe she was his grand-daughter). She spoke about three words of English, so no more communication there either. I will see what I can do about it. Maybe I will just accept the trip tomorrow. Go early and then return early enough for me to explore Goris too. But I have to check my drams. I am running low, and I am not eager to change any more so close to my departure.
No images today, unfortunately. Maybe more tomorrow. Till then, a sweaty, sigarett-smelling greeting from Armenia.