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odzun

ARARAT

The evening was like a monochrome painting but not sufficiently dark enough to hide the maliciously churning skies and dangerously swaying trees. The silhouette of a Church appeared in the distance. Odzun. And somewhere beyond its dome was the outline of a mountain. Hell was brewing outside. Lightning flashed incessantly and rains would follow

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Footprints in the heart

Fifty countries ago, when I was a novice traveller, I always ‘missed’ a place I travelled to. That feeling lingered for weeks or months before the next destination came up. Then I missed that place too. The roads, the food, the people, the airports, the landscapes… everything became one big ball of memories I wanted…

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