Being in Yerevan felt nice, but the road was calling me. Come back, come back! it whispered, the Caboose is waiting!
So this morning I went to the long-distance bus terminal and waited there:
The bus turned out to be just like the others before it: lots of leg room, half empty. My heart bled a little when we rode past Mount Ararat:
I wanted to get out and breathe in the scenery. Walk around in it. Or sleep on the mountain flank.
We stopped somewhere near a little river:
And then, after a few more hours, we arrived at the Agarak border crossing:
It was the same procedure as before, just the other way around. I took a photo in the middle of the border, on the bridge between Armenia and Iran:
And then I was through. There were a few cars parked on the other side, presumably waitign for their owners to return:
I turned back to look at the flag, and it was then that I realized that the only thing illuminating this otherwise forgotten valley was the border itself:
There would have been only darkness here without it.