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Good luck to a new Armenia
The Daily Telegraph
Last Updated: 12:01am GMT 18/03/2007
Essentials
It has a tragic past but Douglas Rogers predicts a change in fortune
for this fascinating country.
It was after the third glass of 50 per cent proof vintage Armenian
brandy that my host for the evening, a garrulous Armenian-American
property developer by the name of Vahak Hovnanian, suggested a game of
golf. Usually, after a few glasses of top-shelf cognac, I'd be up for
a round, but it was 9pm, wewere in the basement of his mansion on a
half-built residential village on the outskirts of Armenia's dusty
capital Yerevan, and the chances of finding a floodlit golf course in
the vicinity seemed pretty slim.
I shouldn't have been so sceptical. "We are the Jews of the Caucasus,"
Vahak told me five minutes later as he smacked a drive straight down
the fairway of his floodlit golf course, a short walk from his
home. In the distance, the outline of Mount Ararat shimmered in the
moonlight, while in a clubhouse decked out with leather chairs
emblazoned with the Hovnanian family crest,a dozen members of his
family cheered and ordered more brandy. On a barren field of rock and
stone in central Armenia, a New Jersey property tycoon was building
his own Jerusalem.
It is easy to see Armenia as the Israel of the Caucasus (even though
it's actually the oldest Christian nation on earth, having adopted
Christianityin AD 310, a decade before Rome). It is surrounded by
Muslim countries on three sides - Turkey, Iran and Azerbaijan - and
war-torn Georgia to its north. In 1915 Armenia suffered its own
holocaust: the slaughter of 1.5 million people by the Turks, a
genocide the Turkish government still refuses to acknowledge.
>From 1917 to 1991 Armenia was part of the Soviet Union, which
protected it from the Turks but did little for its independence or
devout Orthodox religious observance. Not for nothing is Armenia known
as the land of "1,700 Years of Bad Luck".
And yet, partly as a result of this tragic past, Armenia, more than
any other country in the Caucasus, is now finding its feet fast. The
Diaspora, descendents of those who escaped the genocide, now number
three times the 2.5 million population of Armenia itself, and they not
only dominate the country's fledgling tourist industry, but the
wealthiest of them, men such as Vahak Hovnanian and Kirk Kirkorian,
the owner of MGM studios in LA, invest US$1 billion a year in Armenia,
funding everything from airports, roads and radio stations, to
universities, museums and hotels.
It was because of one of these investors that I was in the
country. Two months earlier, I had heard about an Armenian-American
interior designer named James Tufenkian, a reclusive 40-something New
Yorker who had made his fortune in the luxury Armenian handmade carpet
industry. In 1995, four years afterthe end of Communist rule,
Tufenkian had set up hand-weaving carpet factories in his ancestral
homeland, reviving the ancient art of Oushak carpet making - finely
textured, earth-toned Armenian rugs that had virtually disappeared
during 75 years of Soviet rule.
Ten years on, Tufenkian not only had luxury showrooms in New York and
Los Angeles, where his exquisite rugs were snapped up by the likes of
Dennis Quaid, Donna Karan and Ben Stiller, but he had just branched
out into the travel industry. Under a new company, Tufenkian Heritage,
he had created Armenia's first design hotels: three properties set in
restored ruins or close to religious sites that form a perfect
cultural triangle for a visit to Armenia.
History hangs heavy in Yerevan. The starting point of any visit to
Armenia, the one million-strong city lies in a dusty valley rimmed by
rugged, rock-strewn hills that are more Arizona than Asia Minor. Its
potholed streets and drab cement tower blocks were depressing
reminders of the Soviet era, and even the spectacular view of
snow-capped Mount Ararat, 30 miles distant, had a weightiness to
it. It has been Turkish territory since 1915, a permanent, taunting
reminder of the genocide.
Yet, sweep away the dust, and Yerevan, an eighth-century fortress
town, reveals itself like a lost icon. On the wide expanse of Opera
Square in the centre, opposite a new Marriott hotel, the National
Opera House had been restored and the Yerevan Philharmonic was
performing works by the great Armenian composer Aram Khachaturian.
Nearby, in what looked like a stone church, a handful of
French-Armenian tourists queued up at the Parajanov Museum, a monument
to the Armenian filmmaker Sergei Parajanov (1924-1990), whose work was
banned by the Soviets but inspired Fellini, Antonioni and
Godard. Pride in its artistic heritage runs deep in Armenia - almost
as deep as memories of the past. Outside the museum I met Gilda, a
painter from Paris.
"My father fled Armenia in 1915 for Lebanon," she said, almost in
tears. "I grew up with so many stories of my country. It feels as if I
am home." She was 70 years old, spoke no Armenian and was here for the
first time.
Tufenkian's Yerevan hotel, the Avan Villa, is the first ''boutique''
hotel in Armenia. A four-storey guesthouse set on a hillside
overlooking the town, its 14 rooms were furnished with Armenian crafts
and his carpets - all peach, ochre and walnut tones - warmed the
living room. Typical of Oushak rugs, the colours reflected the dry
hills around us.
There was nothing dry about the Villa's food. In a vine-covered
courtyard we were served bountiful plates of crisp-thin lavash bread,
succulent vine leaves stuffed with filet mignon, spicy ground lamb on
bulgher, known as kufta, and bowls overflowing with fresh fruit. I
wondered how such a dry place could yield such fresh produce and in
answer the chef pointed to a narrow sliverof green at the foothills of
Mount Ararat.
"The Ararat Valley," he said. "The most fertile valley in all the
Caucasus- where Noah planted the first grapes." Perhaps it was grapes
from Noah's vines that went into the delicious Armenian brandy we
drank after dinner each night.
Tufenkian's newest hotel was the Avan Dzoraget, a 34-room lodge set in
an old stone firehouse on a river in the remote Lori region, two hours
north of Yerevan, near the Georgian border. We set off in a Tufenkian
bus, the parched Yerevan landscape giving way to lush valleys and
pine-covered mountains. It could have passed for Switzerland were it
not for the shells of abandoned Soviet industrial plants by the
roadside and the bemused looks of shepherds gazing at us from the
hills.
The Dzoraget had only recently opened, it smelt of fresh cement, and
there were no other guests, but there was no denying its splendid
location: a white-water river gushed in front of it and the hotel bar
was set in a Soviet-era bomb shelter located in a hill behind. It was
too cold to raft the river, too early for brandy, so we drove half an
hour to Sanahin, a revered 10th-century monastery set on a
tree-covered hill top.
Armenia's countryside is a virtual museum of religious sites, many
dating back as far as the fourth century and most neglected under
Soviet rule. Some, like the spectacular Geghard Monastery set in a
canyon west of Yerevan, have been well maintained, but Sanahin, the
holiest site in northern Armenia, was a mess: grass grew on its roof,
its frescos were fading and the vast root of a tree buckled its
foundations.
"The head of this church was garrotted by an agent for the KGB in
1938," said our guide, Heyk. So violent an act seemed unlikely in the
sanctuary of these mountains.
Armenia is about the size of Belgium and its roads are surprisingly
good.
>From Yerevan the following morning it took us only two hours to get
to the third stop on the cultural triangle: Lake Sevan, north-east of
the capital. At 6,230ft, one of the highest lakes in the world, Sevan
was a popular resortfor the Soviet elite, and when its silvery-blue
water came into view, I could see a number of sturdy stone dachas on
its banks, shaded by forests of red and yellow aspen.
Tufenkian had built his flagship hotel, the Avan Marak Tsapatagh, on
the eastern side of the lake, near the Azerbaijan border. It was the
most spectacular of all the hotels, a 34-room lodge in a converted
stone barn set in a wheat field. I checked into a beautiful duplex
room, the bare-stone walls covered with more lavish Oushak carpets. A
balcony faced the lake. There would be something biblical about
Armenia were it not for all the monasteries and Mount Ararat and for
me, the most biblical sight of all was standing on the balcony
watching the fishermen cast their nets from creaking row boats on the
lake, while wizened shepherds herded flocks in the hills behind.
"Be a Shepherd for a Day," is one of Tufenkian's Sevan tourism
projects. He has contracted hundreds of Armenian farmers around the
country to rear sheep to supply the semi-coarse wool that will be used
for his carpets, and visitors can join them at work. We drove out to
meet one such shepherd, a man so lined and aged he looked like a
prophet. It was hard to believe the wool he harvested might one day
make it into Ben Stiller's bedroom. Inevitably, his wife invited us in
for more food: huge plates of grilled lamb with lavash and dried
fruit: flattened sheets of apples, and dried plums and peaches clung
together with string. A meal fit for the gods.
Whether Armenia moves beyond being a religious heritage destination
and a nostalgic trip for the vast Diaspora, only time will
tell. Ironically, its greatest chance of success in the wider tourism
market might be in combination with trips to Turkey - the old
enemy. If it continues to develop, though, it will be largely due to
generous Diasporans such as James Tufenkian and Vahak Hovnanian.
It was on our last night in Yerevan that we were invited to
Hovnanian's home after a chance meeting with his daughter, a glamorous
Fifth Avenue princess, who had married an Armenian jazz musician and
returned to the old country.
Looking around the impressive mansion as the patriarch poured us that
fine vintage brandy, a member of our group said that the house looked
eerily familiar. "It's just like my aunt's home in New Jersey." Turns
out that's exactly what it was. Hovnanian, one of the wealthiest
property developers in America, was building holiday homes in Armenia
that were replicas of the homes he builds all over the US. Armenia
might be the Israel of the Caucasus, but this little corner of it was
all New Jersey.
Essentials
Getting there
Sunvil Discovery (020 8758 4722; www.sunvil.co.uk) and Regent Holidays
(0870 499 0911; www.regent-holidays.co.uk) are both experienced
operators to Armenia and British Airways (0870 850 9850; www.ba.com)
has regular flights to Yerevan. Regent offers a 10-day `Classic
Armenia' tour from £1,345 per person or more general 13-day tour of
the Caucasus' cities of Yerevan, Tbilisi and Baku. Prices include
flights, b=80=89&=80=89b, transfers and incidentals except visa
costs. Sunvil Discovery offers a set 10-day escorted `Armenia and
Nagorno-Karabagh ' itinerary departing on September 7. The cost is
£1,627, including flights, half board, transfers and
incidentals. Sunvil can also tailor-make individual trips based on
this itinerary, but with numerous other possibleexcursions and
options.
Further information
For more details on Tufenkian Heritage Hotels and Tours call 00374 1
520911 or visit www.tufenkian.com. The company does not have a UK
office. The best guidebook is The Bradt Travel Guide: Armenia with
Nagorno-Karabagh (£13.95).
Telegraph Media Group publishes telegraph.co.uk, The Daily Telegraph,
The Sunday Telegraph and The Weekly Telegraph.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress
The Daily Telegraph
Last Updated: 12:01am GMT 18/03/2007
Essentials
It has a tragic past but Douglas Rogers predicts a change in fortune
for this fascinating country.
It was after the third glass of 50 per cent proof vintage Armenian
brandy that my host for the evening, a garrulous Armenian-American
property developer by the name of Vahak Hovnanian, suggested a game of
golf. Usually, after a few glasses of top-shelf cognac, I'd be up for
a round, but it was 9pm, wewere in the basement of his mansion on a
half-built residential village on the outskirts of Armenia's dusty
capital Yerevan, and the chances of finding a floodlit golf course in
the vicinity seemed pretty slim.
I shouldn't have been so sceptical. "We are the Jews of the Caucasus,"
Vahak told me five minutes later as he smacked a drive straight down
the fairway of his floodlit golf course, a short walk from his
home. In the distance, the outline of Mount Ararat shimmered in the
moonlight, while in a clubhouse decked out with leather chairs
emblazoned with the Hovnanian family crest,a dozen members of his
family cheered and ordered more brandy. On a barren field of rock and
stone in central Armenia, a New Jersey property tycoon was building
his own Jerusalem.
It is easy to see Armenia as the Israel of the Caucasus (even though
it's actually the oldest Christian nation on earth, having adopted
Christianityin AD 310, a decade before Rome). It is surrounded by
Muslim countries on three sides - Turkey, Iran and Azerbaijan - and
war-torn Georgia to its north. In 1915 Armenia suffered its own
holocaust: the slaughter of 1.5 million people by the Turks, a
genocide the Turkish government still refuses to acknowledge.
>From 1917 to 1991 Armenia was part of the Soviet Union, which
protected it from the Turks but did little for its independence or
devout Orthodox religious observance. Not for nothing is Armenia known
as the land of "1,700 Years of Bad Luck".
And yet, partly as a result of this tragic past, Armenia, more than
any other country in the Caucasus, is now finding its feet fast. The
Diaspora, descendents of those who escaped the genocide, now number
three times the 2.5 million population of Armenia itself, and they not
only dominate the country's fledgling tourist industry, but the
wealthiest of them, men such as Vahak Hovnanian and Kirk Kirkorian,
the owner of MGM studios in LA, invest US$1 billion a year in Armenia,
funding everything from airports, roads and radio stations, to
universities, museums and hotels.
It was because of one of these investors that I was in the
country. Two months earlier, I had heard about an Armenian-American
interior designer named James Tufenkian, a reclusive 40-something New
Yorker who had made his fortune in the luxury Armenian handmade carpet
industry. In 1995, four years afterthe end of Communist rule,
Tufenkian had set up hand-weaving carpet factories in his ancestral
homeland, reviving the ancient art of Oushak carpet making - finely
textured, earth-toned Armenian rugs that had virtually disappeared
during 75 years of Soviet rule.
Ten years on, Tufenkian not only had luxury showrooms in New York and
Los Angeles, where his exquisite rugs were snapped up by the likes of
Dennis Quaid, Donna Karan and Ben Stiller, but he had just branched
out into the travel industry. Under a new company, Tufenkian Heritage,
he had created Armenia's first design hotels: three properties set in
restored ruins or close to religious sites that form a perfect
cultural triangle for a visit to Armenia.
History hangs heavy in Yerevan. The starting point of any visit to
Armenia, the one million-strong city lies in a dusty valley rimmed by
rugged, rock-strewn hills that are more Arizona than Asia Minor. Its
potholed streets and drab cement tower blocks were depressing
reminders of the Soviet era, and even the spectacular view of
snow-capped Mount Ararat, 30 miles distant, had a weightiness to
it. It has been Turkish territory since 1915, a permanent, taunting
reminder of the genocide.
Yet, sweep away the dust, and Yerevan, an eighth-century fortress
town, reveals itself like a lost icon. On the wide expanse of Opera
Square in the centre, opposite a new Marriott hotel, the National
Opera House had been restored and the Yerevan Philharmonic was
performing works by the great Armenian composer Aram Khachaturian.
Nearby, in what looked like a stone church, a handful of
French-Armenian tourists queued up at the Parajanov Museum, a monument
to the Armenian filmmaker Sergei Parajanov (1924-1990), whose work was
banned by the Soviets but inspired Fellini, Antonioni and
Godard. Pride in its artistic heritage runs deep in Armenia - almost
as deep as memories of the past. Outside the museum I met Gilda, a
painter from Paris.
"My father fled Armenia in 1915 for Lebanon," she said, almost in
tears. "I grew up with so many stories of my country. It feels as if I
am home." She was 70 years old, spoke no Armenian and was here for the
first time.
Tufenkian's Yerevan hotel, the Avan Villa, is the first ''boutique''
hotel in Armenia. A four-storey guesthouse set on a hillside
overlooking the town, its 14 rooms were furnished with Armenian crafts
and his carpets - all peach, ochre and walnut tones - warmed the
living room. Typical of Oushak rugs, the colours reflected the dry
hills around us.
There was nothing dry about the Villa's food. In a vine-covered
courtyard we were served bountiful plates of crisp-thin lavash bread,
succulent vine leaves stuffed with filet mignon, spicy ground lamb on
bulgher, known as kufta, and bowls overflowing with fresh fruit. I
wondered how such a dry place could yield such fresh produce and in
answer the chef pointed to a narrow sliverof green at the foothills of
Mount Ararat.
"The Ararat Valley," he said. "The most fertile valley in all the
Caucasus- where Noah planted the first grapes." Perhaps it was grapes
from Noah's vines that went into the delicious Armenian brandy we
drank after dinner each night.
Tufenkian's newest hotel was the Avan Dzoraget, a 34-room lodge set in
an old stone firehouse on a river in the remote Lori region, two hours
north of Yerevan, near the Georgian border. We set off in a Tufenkian
bus, the parched Yerevan landscape giving way to lush valleys and
pine-covered mountains. It could have passed for Switzerland were it
not for the shells of abandoned Soviet industrial plants by the
roadside and the bemused looks of shepherds gazing at us from the
hills.
The Dzoraget had only recently opened, it smelt of fresh cement, and
there were no other guests, but there was no denying its splendid
location: a white-water river gushed in front of it and the hotel bar
was set in a Soviet-era bomb shelter located in a hill behind. It was
too cold to raft the river, too early for brandy, so we drove half an
hour to Sanahin, a revered 10th-century monastery set on a
tree-covered hill top.
Armenia's countryside is a virtual museum of religious sites, many
dating back as far as the fourth century and most neglected under
Soviet rule. Some, like the spectacular Geghard Monastery set in a
canyon west of Yerevan, have been well maintained, but Sanahin, the
holiest site in northern Armenia, was a mess: grass grew on its roof,
its frescos were fading and the vast root of a tree buckled its
foundations.
"The head of this church was garrotted by an agent for the KGB in
1938," said our guide, Heyk. So violent an act seemed unlikely in the
sanctuary of these mountains.
Armenia is about the size of Belgium and its roads are surprisingly
good.
>From Yerevan the following morning it took us only two hours to get
to the third stop on the cultural triangle: Lake Sevan, north-east of
the capital. At 6,230ft, one of the highest lakes in the world, Sevan
was a popular resortfor the Soviet elite, and when its silvery-blue
water came into view, I could see a number of sturdy stone dachas on
its banks, shaded by forests of red and yellow aspen.
Tufenkian had built his flagship hotel, the Avan Marak Tsapatagh, on
the eastern side of the lake, near the Azerbaijan border. It was the
most spectacular of all the hotels, a 34-room lodge in a converted
stone barn set in a wheat field. I checked into a beautiful duplex
room, the bare-stone walls covered with more lavish Oushak carpets. A
balcony faced the lake. There would be something biblical about
Armenia were it not for all the monasteries and Mount Ararat and for
me, the most biblical sight of all was standing on the balcony
watching the fishermen cast their nets from creaking row boats on the
lake, while wizened shepherds herded flocks in the hills behind.
"Be a Shepherd for a Day," is one of Tufenkian's Sevan tourism
projects. He has contracted hundreds of Armenian farmers around the
country to rear sheep to supply the semi-coarse wool that will be used
for his carpets, and visitors can join them at work. We drove out to
meet one such shepherd, a man so lined and aged he looked like a
prophet. It was hard to believe the wool he harvested might one day
make it into Ben Stiller's bedroom. Inevitably, his wife invited us in
for more food: huge plates of grilled lamb with lavash and dried
fruit: flattened sheets of apples, and dried plums and peaches clung
together with string. A meal fit for the gods.
Whether Armenia moves beyond being a religious heritage destination
and a nostalgic trip for the vast Diaspora, only time will
tell. Ironically, its greatest chance of success in the wider tourism
market might be in combination with trips to Turkey - the old
enemy. If it continues to develop, though, it will be largely due to
generous Diasporans such as James Tufenkian and Vahak Hovnanian.
It was on our last night in Yerevan that we were invited to
Hovnanian's home after a chance meeting with his daughter, a glamorous
Fifth Avenue princess, who had married an Armenian jazz musician and
returned to the old country.
Looking around the impressive mansion as the patriarch poured us that
fine vintage brandy, a member of our group said that the house looked
eerily familiar. "It's just like my aunt's home in New Jersey." Turns
out that's exactly what it was. Hovnanian, one of the wealthiest
property developers in America, was building holiday homes in Armenia
that were replicas of the homes he builds all over the US. Armenia
might be the Israel of the Caucasus, but this little corner of it was
all New Jersey.
Essentials
Getting there
Sunvil Discovery (020 8758 4722; www.sunvil.co.uk) and Regent Holidays
(0870 499 0911; www.regent-holidays.co.uk) are both experienced
operators to Armenia and British Airways (0870 850 9850; www.ba.com)
has regular flights to Yerevan. Regent offers a 10-day `Classic
Armenia' tour from £1,345 per person or more general 13-day tour of
the Caucasus' cities of Yerevan, Tbilisi and Baku. Prices include
flights, b=80=89&=80=89b, transfers and incidentals except visa
costs. Sunvil Discovery offers a set 10-day escorted `Armenia and
Nagorno-Karabagh ' itinerary departing on September 7. The cost is
£1,627, including flights, half board, transfers and
incidentals. Sunvil can also tailor-make individual trips based on
this itinerary, but with numerous other possibleexcursions and
options.
Further information
For more details on Tufenkian Heritage Hotels and Tours call 00374 1
520911 or visit www.tufenkian.com. The company does not have a UK
office. The best guidebook is The Bradt Travel Guide: Armenia with
Nagorno-Karabagh (£13.95).
Telegraph Media Group publishes telegraph.co.uk, The Daily Telegraph,
The Sunday Telegraph and The Weekly Telegraph.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress