They made me write down my phone number and told me to show the address of where I was staying.
My legs went weak and I trembled a little. It was the first real interrogation of my life.
But the day had begun with a quiet farewell.
David seeing me off — a farewell after four years
I had actually planned to get a Russian visa in Tbilisi before heading there, but apparently it's much harder for foreigners to obtain one than I imagined. There was no consulate and the process was complicated. The moment I gave up on it, I decided to go to Armenia. Fifty lari by minivan — pretty cheap.
Today was my last day in Georgia. I woke up and packed my bags. I had a ton of winter sweaters and was thinking it might be time to send some back to Japan, then headed by taxi to the bus terminal where the vehicle would depart. Check-in went smoothly because David had made the reservation the day before.
After loading my big backpack into the van, I went to the bus terminal to pick up David. He had gone out of his way to come see me off. David had also seen me off at the airport when I left for Latvia in December 2022. Back then it was the airport; today it was the bus terminal. This 'seeing-off' happened for the first time in four years. We've both aged a little and changed. I want to keep becoming a more beautiful, more attractive person going forward.
Four years ago at the airport, today at the bus terminal.
David gave me a letter. Since we were in a hurry, I had to write the card right in front of him. Even so, I wrote the letter in Japanese and handed it to him.
Lately I might not only distrust myself but also distrust other people. Maybe I hurried the letter because I didn't want to feel like I'd be losing out. I realized again that what I gave might not be very good for the other person.
Crossing the Georgia border by land
The driver rushed me, so I used the restroom at a nearby restaurant before we departed.
We took the minivan to the Georgia border. It was probably only my second time crossing a border by land, and I was really excited. Along the way there were shepherds with grazing sheep and vast highlands stretching out. It reminded me anew how wide the world is.
Snowy mountains and a quiet village.
Beside me were two people from Kazakhstan; in front of me were two Russian girls and an older woman. The six of us were traveling to Armenia together. At the Georgia border they asked, "What kind of visa do you have?" I answered, "No visa is needed," and I was able to exit without trouble.
Armenia border — the first interrogation of my life
This time it was the Armenian border. On exit we could leave our luggage in the van, but on entry everything had to be unloaded and inspected.
The person ahead of me was being pressed hard for their phone number, purpose, and destination, and I thought this might be bad. I almost said to the Russian girl behind me, "Here is a wrong que, we should have waited there haha," but I refrained because we were close to passport control.
Then it was my turn. For the first time in my life I was peppered with so many questions it felt like a heavy interrogation. They made me write down my phone number, asked where I was going, how many days I'd stay, and told me to show the address of my accommodation. My legs went weak and I trembled a little. I thought, what if I'm not allowed to enter?
But thinking about it, they're just doing their job with a purpose, and probably kind in private, so it's not that scary. The reason was clear: behind my Georgian stamp the Azerbaijani stamp was obvious. At that point I knew I could no longer go to Azerbaijan.
Still, it was a good experience. If I plan to go to Israel in the future, this will be good practice — it will probably be more than ten times tougher there.
From highlands to snowy mountains — the scenery I saw from the car
After getting my stamp, I boarded the van and headed for the capital, Yerevan. I was sleep-deprived, so I slept a lot.
Vast snowy mountains stretched outside and I could feel the high elevation. A moment ago it had been green highlands, and now we were surrounded by snow-capped peaks. Life is the same — depending on where you are, the environment can be completely different.
We stopped at a rest area and I ordered a chicken-and-tomato dish and puree in Russian. It was really tasty. I had wanted to join the two Russian girls next to me, but the voice in my head wouldn't let me. I used the excuse, "I'm tired and don't feel like talking," and escaped. It's a big breakthrough that I can start conversations with people on my own, but I realized I'm still prone to mood swings and can be extreme.
Negotiating in Russian — canceling the lodging
We arrived at the Armenian bus stop. I didn't have a SIM card, so I asked the Kazakh guy beside me, "Can I borrow your internet?" and he kindly replied, "Of course, bro," and lent it to me. Even though they had already called a taxi, they waited until everything was okay for me. I was truly grateful. Since it was a Yandex taxi, I worried a bit about whether my card was registered (I didn't yet have Armenian money). But the card was properly registered, so I felt relieved. Then I was able to head to the hotel safely. I once again felt how kind and considerate Kazakh people are. I want to thank them someday.
The taxi driver was very rough and seemed to be stressed about something. Was it relationships, or that his life wasn't going the way he wanted?
We arrived near the hotel but the pinned place on Google Maps didn't show a lodging. I asked an older woman resting at a nearby restaurant in Russian, "There should be a hostel here, do you know where?" but she didn't know. I went into a nearby cafe. It felt like the center — very fancy, romantic and a little dim. I sat with my backpack on at a 'Table for 1' and ordered a smoothie. It was 800 yen, kind of expensive but acceptable.
I borrowed Wi‑Fi and checked Booking.comLooking it over, it was indeed a bit of a tricky location. Mehdi, whom I met at a hostel in Georgia, had invited me saying, "There's an amazing hostel, you should come," so if I could cancel I decided to switch.
When I arrived at the hotel, an older woman was watching an iPhone on the sofa. She seemed to be the manager. I told her in Russian that I wanted to cancel. I didn't know the words "Accept" and "Cancel," so I looked them up on Google Translate and negotiated myself. She called the owner and in the end I was able to cancel for free.
The woman wasn't very friendly at first, but later she started talking about where she'd learned Russian and where she was from, and things warmed up. I felt proud to be able to speak Russian and happy that language can connect people this much. I realized I'm less afraid of speaking Russian than before. I guess this is also 'getting used to' things. In the end, life is about getting used to stuff.
A country with good posture: Yerevan
I withdrew Armenian currency from an ATM and walked toward the hostel. At the entrance someone very friendly greeted me.
He was the hostel manager, shook my hand, and showed me around. There were Iranians and other international people, but a few were digital nomads working on laptops and didn't seem very friendly. That was a little disappointing. Right after check-in I reunited with Mehdi from Morocco.
Walking around town, I was struck by Armenians' pride in their fashion. Everyone wore jackets; women looked beautiful; people on dates were dressed in dresses and jackets. The whole country seemed to be holding its spine straight — that sort of atmosphere.
I was especially surprised by the good posture of the women. Among the places I've seen, Armenia stood out. Naturally, I found myself walking with a straighter back too.
When I went to the counter to get an eSIM, there were so many people I was exasperated. I ended up waiting about 20 minutes before I was finally called and could complete the contract. The boy handling me seemed new — he had a pure vibe and his obvious inexperience was kind of endearing.
To the Cascade with Mehdi
We walked toward the Cascade. It's a representative landmark of Yerevan with a lot of stairs. I walked with Mehdi.
He was truly French in character — he loved to talk and spoke his mind confidently. There's an emotional directness that's different from an American style; that French quality was very appealing to me. He was a Moroccan who loved to chat and with whom I never had to be self-conscious.
Almost to the top floor.
We climbed the Cascade to the very top. I asked him about his future plans. He's going to do an exchange in Rio de Janeiro for six months to a year this year, and is studying Portuguese for that. "We'll surely meet in Rio," I said.
Sunset at the Cascade
While talking at the top, a girl next to us wearing a white fluffy coat set up a selfie stick and started shooting. It was a full-on shoot — her makeup was flawless. I figured she'd post it on social media; it's not really my taste, but I thought it was very Armenian in its strong attention to appearance.
With Quentin — Armenian food
When it was time, we went down the Cascade, met up with Quentin, and headed to an Armenian restaurant.
We ordered some small fried items. I tried a bit of Quentin's dish and it was incredibly delicious.
For dessert there was something like a Russian Napoleon cake, but it was giant — one portion for three people. Quentin was full, so we gave up on it this time.
We also ordered a pumpkin dish that almost melted in the mouth and I tucked into another Armenian specialty. It was so delicious. After that, we walked back to the hostel.
