This was the most miserable day of my entire trip. The landscape had completely changed, I spent the entire day walking through gold and brown fields of harvested and plowed wheat. Burning sun, the landscape repeating, one field after another, and to make matters worse, my back was killing me. The pain which started as a an ache after playing the “stick game” in Tatev, and now moved into my lower back, sending lighting strikes of sciatic nerve pain through to my toes. A constant reminder that I’m growing older, and can’t do the same things I used to, with a carefree nature. I tried to stretch my back out, to relax the muscles, I lied down, and let the warm summer air breeze over. I body moved in different ways, I couldn’t walk straight, I couldn’t bend at the waist, every movement was slow and deliberate, I was “the tin man” from the Wizard of Oz, walking down my yellow brick road. Finally, as night fell, I approached what I thought was the famous Karahunj. I could see the dancing fire in the distance, and followed like a moth to the flame.
