Last Saturday, the sun came out, which meant it was time to take a party bus to the trout farm. Being land-locked and all, Armenia doesn't exactly have an abundance of fish. You can buy frozen Russian salmon at the grocery store, but it's usually pretty pricey and inexplicably salty. The other option is trout from Armenia's Lake Sevan. I'm a little wary of how it's transported and preserved before getting to market, so I never prepare it myself. The trout farm option, however, is great. They pull the fish out of the ponds they live in, kill them right there, and then barbecue them. It's not ocean fish, which I miss desperately, but it is an OK facsimile. And quite tasty. So, we got on the bus.
And decided it was time for some beer.
Andrew says, "Oh no, not more beer!"
We arrived at the trout farm and chose our private fish feast bungalow.
And then the staff set about catching our trout.
He got one!
Tony picked it up. (This picture was taken before the fish spewed some white substance all over him.)
Back at the bungalow, we were enjoying the first course.
With a lovely view.
Sarah didn't like the vodka so much.
The end.
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