The day was overcast yet dry, cold yet not uncomfortably so. An undulating topography stretched as far as the eye could see as we made our way along the lonely, desolate road to the ancient and medieval ruins of Ani.
Softly rolling hills, with very little vegetation, were barren yet striking, made so by all that these lands had witnessed, made so by all that they had endured.
From the scholarship I have read, Ani stands as a mesmerizing symbol of Armenian loss, perseverance, strength and cultural achievement.
She lives in every Armenian’s imagination.
I wanted to visit the ruins alone, to prevent any distractions and fully absorb the essence of this spiritual and sacred place.
Author's summary: Discovering medieval Ani's enchantment.