The Caucaus

Their song was strange, three different voices weaved into a single melody that sounded as if from another time – and its effect was hardly due to the strong homemade Chacha, or brandy, guests are treated to here.

On 7 December 1988, the world was hit by the news of a devastating earthquake that killed at least 31,000 and injured about 130,000 people in the little-known Soviet Socialist Republic of Armenia. Buildings lay in ruins and thousands were left homeless in a cold winter's dawn. Shockingly, Mikhail Gorbachev, the leader of the mighty USSR, admitted his country was unable to deal with the destruction, the search for survivors, and the rebuilding.

The village of Lermontovo comes as a surprise. After the drab, grey, decaying city of Vanadzor (and most of the cities in Armenia, for that matter), the village is a splash of colour. Flowers spill out from lush gardens and among the greenery are wooden houses painted in pastels, with steep roofs and birdhouses. You are perfectly aware that you are still in Armenia, but everything around looks as if you have been magically transported deep into the Russian countryside – about 200 years ago.

Two young girls are munching bean-paste khachapuri by an array of old graffiti drawn with a pencil on the crumbling walls of a funicular station. The wooden benches look prehistoric, but a flat screen TV on the wall is on, broadcasting a Turkish TV soap. A handful of other people wait for the arrival of the next car on Chiatura's main cable car line.