Its archaic style, a s Pullman carriage, amused me instantly. With the seating area to the left, which pulled down into beds, a large table incorporating fridge and a sink with a bathroom cupboard hanging above, I quickly became familiar with my surroundings. I would spend several days in this old carriage, providing plenty of time to think. My life, and in particular my career, had taken an unexpected turn in London and I longed to escape it; so a spontaneous trip east to Kars and Ani, the 10th century capital of the Bagratid Armenian dynasty 40km east of Kars, then potentially border hopping to Georgia or Azerbaijan was quite appealing.
I was heading east. Other than this, its history, unique surroundings and history is little known by the average Brit. I sat back in the carriage to reflect on the journey ahead. My time on the train were spent primarily catching up on reading and planning my trip upon arriving in Kars. I was free. Not tied by job or obligations and could spend as much time as I wished away from London well, in theory.
The only other thing I did during those few days was open my carriage curtains and watch in awe. The panoramic beauty of the landscape staring back at me from the window was unforgettable. From snowy mountains to sandy coloured fields, to gorges and green plateaus, even the empty barren landscapes were stunning. I opened the curtains, it was still pitch black from the night and I could see nothing, not even halogen street lights.
I looked around but everything was shut up. I approached the station night manager about the distance to my hotel. He told me it was a 5 minute walk, but recommended I wait until day light as the streets were not safe.
I waited 2 hours, until eventually the sun rose. Upon leaving the station, I was surprised by the lack of pavements and roads around the station. Mud roads, derelict houses, no road signs; it was like a frontier town. However, Kars has always been exactly that.
