Where do I buy my ticket to Tbilisi?

I'm preparing to leave Armenia. Feeling a bit scared and excited. It's a strange feeling to head off to new places with different customs, different languages, different everything. Except of course the human beings living there, who are generally the same the world 'round - usually kind. To illustrate . . . Yesterday I went to find the train station here to see exactly how much the tickets to Tbilisi cost and when the train leaves. I came to a big building with a cutout of a train over the door which was in about the right location so I, of course, assumed that must be the train station.

I walked in and entered a wide, open hallway with people moving about. Looked like a train station to me. An elderly man approached and asked me a question. I nodded "no." That must have been the right response because he seemed satisfied and allowed me to enter. I tried my lousy Armenian on him. He looked a bit baffled but directed me to the left, where 20 or so women were crowded into a room, pushing and shoving each other around. I assumed they must be trying to buy tickets so I went on in.

But no, it was some sort of second-hand clothes give-away and the women were just digging through boxes and tables covered with clothes. I considered joining in but decided I had enough clothes already. So I shoved my way back out into the hall and once again tried to ask the kind old gentleman where I could buy a train ticket to Tbilisi. He again looked at me as if I were speaking a strange foreign language ("This is Armenian I'm speaking, man. Why can't you understand me?") He motioned to the cleaning woman, who came over and also tried to interpret my needs. She then asked me to follow her down the hall where I could see a few doors standing ajar. "Aha," I thought. "Now we're getting somewhere." We reached an open doorway and she pointed in with a questioning look. I poked my head around and saw a toilet.

"Che," I said and shook my head. "Tomes, eentz petkay tomes Gyumri-eetz Tbilisi." I need a ticket from Gyumri to Tbilisi. Now, isn't that perfectly clear? Indeed! We hustled back to the entrance and she pointed further down the street to a large building at the end of a cul-de-sac. "Schnorhakalootyun, shot schnorhakalootyun." Oh, thank you, thank you very much.

A few more friendly meetings along the way to the station, strangers stopping me and asking me Goddess knows what and me answering them and neither of us understanding anything but no matter. We'd finally simply shrug our shoulders at each other, smile, wave and continue on our way. I reached the station, found the ticket booth and a kindly lady sitting inside the booth babbled away at me and pointed to a timetable which indicated price and times, all in familiar numbers which I recognized. Thank Heavens. So, see, it's not so difficult. :o)