There was no escaping the imposing presence of Mt. Ararat as I traveled around Armenia. The mountain was always visible, whether driving through the lush green countryside or walking around the capital city of Yerevan. My first sight of Mt Ararat came at dawn, as my train from Tbilisi, Georgia was nearing Yeravan. Bleary-eyed from an uncomfortable night of clickety-clack wheels on rails, I made my way to the reeking toilet. The wide-open window provided scant relief from the overwhelming smell of stale urine, but the view took...

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