Part of my 3-country Caucasus trip: Azerbaijan + Georgia + Armenia | August 2024
I’ll be honest. Armenia wasn’t really “planned” so much as it was appended. I was already doing Georgia, and I probably wouldn’t do a standalone Armenia trip, the evisa was just about $5, and just like that, a side trip to Armenia made it onto the itinerary on my 3-country Caucacus trip.
TBH, I didn’t know much about Armenia going in. I mean, I’d known Kim Kardashian was half-Armenian. And I vaguely knew there was a genocide. That was the sum total of my pre-trip research. No deep dives, no meticulously bookmarked itineraries. But i was willing to be surprised.
Getting There: Tbilisi to Yerevan by Marshrutka
Early morning, around 7am, I left my hostel in Tbilisi, checked my big backpack into the hostel’s storage, and headed out with just a smaller bag — enough for 2-3 days. I took the long ride from the Rustavelli metro to the Avlabari station, and then exited and walked to the Ortachala bus station to catch a now-familiar Marshrutka to Yerevan.
Now, if you’ve been following this blog for a while, you know I have a long and committed relationship with the Marshrutka. The shared minivan is the unofficial mascot of budget travel in the Caucasus. This one was actually an SUV — filled up in about 45 minutes or so — and we set off from Tbilisi at around 9:30am.
The journey is roughly 2 hours to Yerevan + immigration time. Pack snacks, make peace with the winding roads, and maybe pre-download a podcast or just be amazed by the views.
There’s a border crossing en route, and you do it on foot. The Georgian side was chaotic, but the Armenian side, surprisingly, was much smoother — a lot better than the Georgian immigration I’d done just a couple of days prior. You can get a Visa on Arrival at the Armenian border for about $7, but having a pre-arranged e-visa definitely helped speed things up.
The last hour of the drive itself was worth making this side trip. The lush, expansive Caucasus mountain range rose steeply on either side, winding roads appearing out of nowhere, hairpin turns giving way to sweeping views. At one point you could even catch a glimpse of the Azerbaijani border in the distance with its massive flags fluttering in the winds, a stark reminder of the conflict that still simmers between the two countries and why you have to visit Armenia after Azerbaijan and not the other way around!
We rolled into Yerevan at around noon, into scorching dry heat of the plains, and none of the coolth of the massive mountains we’d passed through.
Cost: Approximately $15 per seat for the Marshrutka ride.
First Impressions of Yerevan
The bus station was chaotic and the cab drivers aggressively pitching, very starkly reminiscent of India. I shared a cab with a guy from my Marshrutka who was heading to the same hostel area, which helped.
The hostel itself was one of the least “vibey” ones I stayed at – an apartment turned into a hostel manned not by a sassy Genz with dreadlocks but an elderly rose-cheeked aunty at reception who spoke zero English, and no common chilling area nor AC. But plenty of character as they say.
I dropped my bag and headed straight out, because staying in on a short trip was not an option.
My first impression of Yerevan? Grey. Sombre. Crumbling in places, but not without dignity. The architecture had that unmistakable post-Soviet weight to it — the kind of buildings that look like they once housed five-year plans and collective ambitions. It reminded me of Georgia in its “former Soviet state” energy, but with its own distinct character.
And yet this one thing stood out – the buildings in the city centre were this beautiful dusty rose colour. Like Jaipur from where I was coming. (and as hot too.) As I’d later learn, the local volcanic tufa stone gives the whole city this warm, blush-toned glow that fights beautifully against its otherwise severe Soviet bones.
The Cascade & Freedom Square
Without a plan or agenda, I walked around and into the famous Freedom Square where stands the ‘Cascade’ – a structure or monument for the lack of a better word that defines Yerevan in travel literature
The Cascade is a massive staircase monument, a huge complex of steps flanked by fountains and open-air sculptures, rising several hundred feet up a hillside. It sounds simple on paper but in person it’s genuinely grand. At the top, the whole city spreads out below you, the Caucasus hills frame the horizon, and on a clear day which I had, despite the heat, you can see Mount Ararat. The famous, sacred, snow-capped Ararat, sitting just across the Turkish border, technically in Turkey but deeply Armenian in identity and feeling. It was a good view with a nice energy around but I couldn’t help feeling a bit meh.
I spent a couple of hours wandering around the Cascade and Freedom Square before strolling back to the hostel, pausing for a street busker doing a quick impromptu performance on the way who would turn out to be my hostel mate later at night!
Quirky statues all over Yerevan!
If you ask me, it wasn’t the Cascade, but actually something else that struck me about Yerevan. The city, especially around the Cascade area is filled with quirky, artistic, and sometimes surreal statues. I counted at least 15. From a fat black bronze lady lying supine, a fat man on a spike blinking in RGB LEDs to several bronze statues of humans, animals and everything in between, it’s almost like quirkiness is embedded into the modern Armenian urbania. But a quick search led me to the learning that most of these statues are from the personal collection of a prominent Armenia called Gerard Cafesjian and were placed all over after his death.
I picked up some bread and an aubergine dip from a supermarket (already becoming a Caucasus trip staple), ate it in the lonely hostel kitchen, and called it a night.
Day 2: A $25 Armenia Day Tour, A Supermarket Spiral & Vegan Dolmas
I hadn’t done much research ahead of this trip, so rather than scrambling to figure out logistics for the sites outside the city, I booked a day tour. $25 for a small group tour covering three major sites outside Yerevan. Not my usual way to do trips, but sensible given the shortness of the trip.
The bus had around 15 people. I was, seemingly, the only solo female traveller in the mix. Standard.
Stop 1: Geghard Monastery
A UNESCO World Heritage Site, and rightfully so. A medieval monastery built nearly 1,000 years ago, partially carved directly into the rock face – the kind of place that makes you wonder how our ancestors were creating such beautiful architecture without modern tools or technology. Well they didn’t have internet to distract them for one. The black stone is dramatic against the surrounding mountains, and the interior — all carved chambers and dim light filtering through ancient cuts in the rock — is as atmospheric as it gets. Even if you’re not religious (I’m not particularly), there’s something about Geghard that commands a kind of quiet and awe.
Stop 2: Garni Temple
Just after Geghard, and a fascinating contrast, a Hellenistic temple that looks, on first glance, exactly like a smaller, blacker version of the Parthenon in Athens. Same columns, same proportions, same ancient Greek architectural DNA. But transplanted here, into the Armenian highlands, in dark volcanic stone instead of white marble. The juxtaposition is delightful and a bit surreal. Garni was the most touristy site in Armenia so far and here the Indian tourists tumbled in and out of view in plenty. I chose to give taking pictures a break here and just saw away in the gardens with a view of the temple, picking up fallen berries from the grass and just enjoying a quite moment by myself surrounded by the mad scrambles of photos and Reels.
Stop 3: Symphony of Stones
My favourite stop of the day, and possibly of the whole Armenia trip. A natural geological formation in a gorge — basalt columns, carved by nature into perfectly hexagonal shapes, extending for over a kilometre along the canyon walls. The effect is exactly what the name promises: it looks like an enormous, frozen pipe organ, played by some ancient geological force. I’d later see something similar on my Iceland trip a year later, but Armenia got there first for me, and it hit differently in this unexpected, off-the-beaten-track context.
The tour bus dropped us back in the city around 2pm, straight into the midday heat with nothing much to do.
So I did what I do in almost every country when I find myself at a loose end: I went into a supermarket — a big, multistorey one. And I spent what felt like a full hour inside, going aisle by aisle, reading labels I couldn’t understand, appreciating the produce, the spices, the condiments. And then, less appreciatively, an entire section of meat — some of it so fresh it looked like it was having second thoughts about being there. I gave that aisle a wide berth and went back to the aubergine dip section. Picked up another bottle. Already a favourite.
Vernissage flea market
Continuing the shopaholic tendencies, I checked out another much-recommended city attraction — the soviet-era Vernissage flea market. I’d already made up my mind to save the serious flea market shopping for Georgia and the even more famous Dry Bridge market in Tbilisi, so I did the responsible thing and just strolled and perused, much to the visible disappointment of the hopeful shopkeepers. The market was huge — and apparently even grander on weekends — packed with Soviet-era antiques, contemporary art, and the ubiquitous cezve, the little metal coffee kettle I’d first encountered in Turkey and kept running into across the region ever since.
I escaped with just a fridge magnet and a packet of spice, which felt like a personal victory. And then landed in considerably bigger heaven.
Right near my hostel was a gem of a place called Art Lunch — buffet-style meals, a massive variety of vegan options, and prices that made me want to hug someone. Under $5 got me roasted potatoes, a couple of dips, salad, and vegan dolmas — stuffed vine leaves I’d first had at a vegan café in Baku and was now fully, embarrassingly obsessed with. After days of surviving on supermarket finds, this felt like a Michelin star moment. Highly, unreservedly recommended.
In the evening, I came back out to the Republic Square area, sat around, and people-watched. Yerevan in the evening is a different city — unhurried, social, full of families and couples and old men playing backgammon. I could’ve been convinced to saunter into a nightclub to get a taste of the Armenian nightlife before exiting the country the next morning, but being alone and tired from the day didn’t fill me with too much motivation for it. So I called it an early night again. I’ll probably never know what the inside of a nightclub or disco looks like in Armenia, but I did grab a quick coffee at Lumen Coffee 1936, a coffee shop from nearly a 100 years which looked like nothing had changed at all since.
The Blue Mosque & the Road Back
My last morning in Yerevan, and I had one more thing to see before catching the marshrutka back to Tbilisi.
With a girl from my hostel, I walked to the Blue Mosque – an 18th century Iranian mosque sitting in the middle of what is otherwise a very Christian, very Armenian city. I don’t usually make a point of visiting mosques, but in this context – a Catholic-dominant capital with deep historical and cultural ties to the Church – an Iranian mosque is a genuinely interesting thing to stumble upon. The juxtaposition alone made it worth the walk.
And it was beautiful. Intricate blue and yellow tiled mosaics covering the domes and minarets, a serenity inside its landscaped gardens that felt completely removed from the hot, busy streets outside. We spent a long time there, just looking – from the outside, from the inside, from the garden. One of those places that rewards patience.
After that, I got on a local bus to the central station and caught the marshrutka back to Tbilisi. The return route was different from the one we’d come on, but the same stunning hill scenery, occasional waterfalls, streams running alongside the road. The kind of landscape that makes you want to pull over every ten minutes, which you obviously cannot do in a marshrutka.
Final Thoughts: Were 2 Days in Armenia Enough?
Honestly? No. And also, yes.
No, because by the time I left I already knew I’d missed things- there are ruins, monasteries, and landscapes outside Yerevan that deserve more time, and I’d spent perhaps one day too many in the capital when I could have used it elsewhere.
But also yes, because two days was enough to get a real feel for Armenia — its personality, its weight, its particular brand of beauty that isn’t immediately obvious. It’s not a country that dazzles you on arrival. It earns it. Slowly, through an afternoon at the Cascade, all the statues, the hipster cafes and trendy youngsters, and an hour in a supermarket and a plate of vegan dolmas at Art Lunch.
It’s the kind of place that lingers. And I wouldn’t be surprised if I go back someday to do it properly.
Quick Practical Notes
- Getting there from Tbilisi: Marshrutka from Ortochda bus station. Around $15–18. Journey is 3 hours. Leave early.
- Visa: Indians need a visa. E-visa is available online in advance (recommended). VOA also available at the border for ~$7.
- Getting around Yerevan: Walkable city centre. Local buses for further distances — cheap and functional.
- Day tour: $25 covers Geghard, Garni, and Symphony of Stones. Book at your hostel or through any tour desk in the city or online through GetYourguide.
- Food: Art Lunch near Republic Square — buffet, vegan-friendly, under $5. Do not miss.
- Super hack for vegetarians on a budget: The aubergine dip is available everywhere. Buy one and have it as a quick snack or a meal add on, with bread. It’s delicious and healthy.
- Best time to visit: Probably not peak summer if you can help it. The heat in the city is relentless. The mountains outside are glorious regardless.
Armenia was part of my larger solo 3-week trip covering Azerbaijan, Georgia, and Armenia. Read the full trip report here.
