Our journey starts as we cross from Nakhchivan into Kars, the city at the heart of our route. The clear light of the high plateau brings out the texture of the stone buildings; during our late-afternoon walk we are immediately feeling the rhythm of the city.
In Bogatepe, we are stepping through the door of a village dairy, and gruyère production becomes visible with patient order. Milk, climate and craftsmanship come through in every bite, and the voice of the village is entering our notes.
Starting with the center again, we climb up to the castle. The mansions of stone and the plain come together in one scene from there. Down below, as we stand in front of the Kümbet Mosque, the layered history speaks quietly and the traces of different ages stand side by side.
The meaning of the border is becoming clear as the wind strikes the basalt walls in Ani. The cathedrals and churches set the pace for our steps, along with the canyon, while at the bridge piers, a sense of continuity is arising.
As we draw toward farewell, we are choosing among the many shades of cheese and honey in the market. Facades from the Russian period are entering our frame; the color of the stone is holding on to the sky.
In the last hours, we are having a rest in a café or continuing with a relaxed transfer to the airport. Kars is staying at the center of this journey as a clear and vivid memory.
