Thursday 24 September 2009

Three continents, 12,000 miles, 10 days, and one wedding

Salzburg, Austria. It's summer, and the waters of the Salzach river shimmer in the afternoon sunlight. Locals go about their business, and tourists wander the narrow streets of the old city. I'm standing with my Univesity friend Luke on one one of the many cobbled streets close to the river. Across from us is the house that the world-famous composer Mozart once lived. The two of us are in the middle of a couple of weeks of driving around central Europe, a journey that took us from Portsmouth in England, to the tiny village of Rauris in Austria, via France, Belgium, Holland, and Germany.


That was two years ago - July 2007, and that day was the last time I saw Tom, my brother, and Andy - his best friend, as they embarked on what was the early stages of their global cycle ride - Ride Earth.

Much has changed since then. Tom has cycled 11,000 miles - a journey that has seen his thigh muscles bulge to epic proportions. I, on the other hand, came scarily close to getting something apparently called "a career" a couple of times, had a few trips away to various places, before making my move to Vancouver in June last year.


In the intervening 26 months since I last saw Tom his life has changed in ways that he would never have imagined when he set off. Cycling through the Middle East, journeying across the Sahara desert, catching Malaria, finding unchartered villages, sharing a boat across the Gulf of Aden with 300 cows, and having heat-induced nose bleeds at 56 degrees centigrade in Oman are just a few of the things he's done recently, but those are all eclipsed by his chance meeting with Tenny in February 2008.

She is the reason I've been on three continents and travelled through 12 time-zones in the past couple of weeks. Tom and Tenny are getting married, and so I've flown to Yerevan, the capital of Armenia for the wedding.

My journey was not a straight-forward one. I travelled, for the first time since last summer, to England, giving me a chance to see my 91 year old Grandmother, and many of my friends whom I hadn't seen since I left.


The day of departure dawned, and after a Ricky's fried breakfast in Downtown Vancouver with Tissa, Thomas and Sophie, I started my journey home. I was greeted with overcast skies in London as I was reunited with my parents, and we headed for home.

Being back in England gave me a chance to go over my decision to stay in Canada. It had been a long time since I left, and although I had many fond memories from the place I grew up, I felt that after I finished university it was time to move on. Relocating to Canada was a whole new challenge for me, and when I left to start my journey, I didn't even consider the possibility that I might not want to come back. Now, I couldn't even entertain the thought of coming back to England long-term. Vancouver is an amazing city, and in the months I've been there I've gone from being a random guy in a new city with a bag, a bank account, and a 12-month work visa, to having a whole life out here - great friends, a job that I enjoy which sponsors me, a brilliant active lifestyle, a girlfriend, an arrogant Russian cat, and the opportunity to stay in a place that I love so much.

I decided that being back in England was nice, but only for a visit. It was great to see my friends, but having seen what else is out there it was time to leave my hometown in the past.


A few hours later, having spent as much time as possible with friends, and being reminded of the green and pleasant lands, rolling hills, dales and old stone buildings that occupy my part of England, my parents travelled back to Heathrow. Shortly after we touched down at Zvartnots International Airport in Yerevan. Tom was waiting for us, and so outside the terminal building the Allen family was finally reunited. After cramming five people and six bags into a very small taxi we headed for the apartment we had arranged to rent for the duration of our stay.

My first impressions of Yerevan were indeed ones of Soviet times. We sped through the epicentre of Republic Square, with it's grand architecture, housing the National Art Gallery and History Museum, as well as the Marriott Hotel. And a post office.


We arrived at our apartment, located in the centre of the city. It was then that I was also reunited with Andy, who is now living in Tbilisi, Georgia, and best man at Tom's wedding. I hadn't seen Andy since the same day I'd seen Tom, and the three of us together again reminded me of times playing football in Andy's home village of Stoke Albany, relaxing in the surrounding fields, and making ridiculous home movies about finding musical enlightenment with garden hoes and ski masks.


The following day I started to get an idea of what Yerevan is about. The feel of the place was decidedly Russian. It turned out that the main city centre was designed by one man, with many of the main central streets designed to line up together, so that landmarks such as the Opera House, and the aformentioned Republic Square, are visible for miles around.

After my first walk around the streets in daylight something else became apparent - I am in fact a walking circus attraction. Armenia isn't your regular tourist destination - in fact most people I've spoken to don't have a clue where it is, and here societal fashions seem extremely regimented. Almost all young folk, male and female alike seem to comform to a strict dress code. Whilst 99% of men I saw on the street wore smart long-pants, pointed shoes, and had crew cuts; I generally wander around in shorts, T-Shirt and flip flops, so with my lack-of-haircut and general ragged appearance I caused quite a stir on Yerevan's busy streets. On more than one occasion someone would see me, double-take, grin, grab the nearest person, and point and laugh. Being a cause of amusement or bemusement was something I got used to very quickly in Yerevan. Fortunately it's not something that bothers me.

Another thing about Yerevan which is extremely apparent is the sheer quantity of unfinished buildings and untended gardens, pathways and roads. Armenia is not nearly as afluent as Canada or the United Kingdom, and things tend to go unfinished. The Cascade, Yerevans immense white steps which are set into the south-facing hill on the north edge of the cities 'downtown' area is another project which remains incomplete. The project was started in the 1970s, and includes a series of waterfalls which run down the middle of the impressive set of stairs from Haghtanak Park and the Monument Neighborhood down to the smart Boulevard, which houses a number of higher priced cafes and restaurants. Although still an extremely captivating site, there is still a lot to do, although recent privatisation of the project means that things may, or may not, progress faster now. Regardless of this, The view from the top of the Cascade is awe-inspiring with the dominant Mount Ararat towering over the city, dwarfing anything else in sight. Many buildings were in a similar state, and sidewalks and gardens were often not maintained. However, this is in fact the case in the majority of places in the world. English and Canadian people just aren't used to it.


Tom and Tenny's wedding however, was a complete and successful affair, and was more than worth the 12,000 mile round trip. To finally meet Tenny, my new sister-in-law was worth the trip alone. Tom has truly found a match, and someone who is fun loving, laid back, and a joy to be around. The wedding ceremony itself was also something I looked forward to. The service was conducted almost entirely in the ancient Armenian language, so many of the locals could not understand what was being said. As well as that, there were no rehearsals. This made for a flying-by-the-seat-of-the-pants affair, but an experience that was a lot of fun.


Tom being Tom, there also had to be cycling involved. Armenians as a rule don't see cycling as a viable form of transport, but for the drive to the church my brother had arranged his friends at the local cycle activist group to bring along a rickshaw bicycle taxi, to transport bride and groom. Following the strange looking convoy of cyclists all in bright orange shirts through Yerevan's centre was an experience in itself. Locals pointed, pedestrians stopped in their tracks, and many grins were cracked.


Following the service, the wedding party descended on the Arma Hotel in the hills overlooking Yerevan, for the reception. The geography of this place felt a lot like West Vancouver - a place where some of the most expensive real estate in the world is located, and I thought about how much accommodation here would cost if Armenia was suddenly transported across the Atlantic to the West Coast of Canada. It's strange to think - the view from here was spectacular.

The reception itself was a lot of fun also. Wedding receptions in England are often fairly formal affairs, where it takes many hours, and many whiskys later for the guests to open up and have fun. Not so here. The Armenians and Iranian's - who populated the entire guestlist aside from the Allen family party - love to have fun and dance, and here was no exception. Between courses the dancefloor would swell with people dancing to Armenian, Persian, and Western music. Much Vodka and Whisky was drank, the tunes got louder, and the stocks of food depleted.


Unfortunately things came to an end too quickly. My week in Armenia flew by, and soon I was back on a plane to London, where I spent one fleeting afternoon catching up with a couple more friends, and wandering along the banks of the Thames, before catching the next flight back to Vancouver the following morning. It was a great trip, and one with many memories that I will cherish forever. Landing in Vancouver again I was met with bright sunshine and a friendly bus driver who chatted to me about my trip all the way home. It's good to be here.