Georgia

Crossing the border from Turkey into Georgia, sees us leaving the Muslim world (for the time being) and heading into a pinnacle of Christianity. Devout Roman Catholics, the Georgians are an amazing, friendly and welcoming bunch. We met our local guide, Zaza, at the gate after passing customs, and he greeted us with a big bag of potato bread.

Zaza our guide loves his food and wine

Not far from here is the town of Batumi where we spend the night aboard our charted luxury yacht. A bit of a quirky stop, but the introduction to Cha Cha, the local fire water, and a great traditional Georgian night out went down a treat.

John at the wheel of our boat hotel.

Zaza, our guide, stays with us throughout our time in Georgia, and with a passion hard to beat, shows us this incredible country. From Batumi we head for the Svaneti region of Georgia, towering peaks as we enter the Caucasus mountain range are tipped in snow. The road up to Mestia is an experience in itself, as we bounce ourselves from sea level to 1,400m. Surrounded by seven peaks ranging from 4,000m to 5,000m, we are treated to a clear sky.
This is our first homestay. While it is a guesthouse in one way, with at least ten tooth brushes in each bathroom it makes you wonder where the usual guests of the house are. The plus side of this type of rooming is that we experience a real part of the local community. Nino, our hostess in Mestia, does all she can to make one welcome (and fat!). Her cooking is to die for, and the Georgian feast mentality is alive and well, as dish after dish of steaming food arrives, us all tucked up in her modestly sized dining room, with the aga stove making us warm as toast.

A local house in Mestia.

Local square and guest house in backround.

The next highlight is Ushguli. Tucked far up in the mountains at above 2,000m, it is a road the truck would never pass. Bundling everybody into 4x4s, the three hour drive is a tough experience, but you are rewarded by the highest permanently inhabited village in Europe. A community of cheese-makers, sometimes cut off from all civilisation for up to six months by

snow, this is a special place.

The Road to Ushguli if you can call it.

Seige towers dot every montain hamlet.

A 4x4 jeep like the ones we used to drive up to Ushguli

Amazing treking options from fairly easy to the really hectic!!
Treking up and above the snow line.

The Cross the finsihing point

Two nights of Nino’s food was all our stretching stomach could bear, so we headed for a bush camp in the mountains to break up the drive on bad roads the next day. Perched on a ledge to rid us of sleep walkers, we set camp and lit a fire. As we watched the sun fade, and slowly the white mountains around us, we were treated to a sea of dazzling stars, with no moon in sight.

Bush camp.

Stopping off in the former capital of western Georgia, Zugdidi, the group had their first taste of a proper Asian Market, and Cher and I did a quick food shop.
From there we headed for an underground cave system nestled in a forest, and one of the few places you can still see dinosaur foot prints. Worth a quick look, and a joy as the park was so happy to have us there they did not bother to charge, and then gave us permission to camp in the forest. It was a leisurely afternoon and evening, with an abundance of dry wood and a fire that crackled late into the night.

From here we headed to Gori and the Stalin Museum, a fascinating, one-sided tribute to the dictator in his birthplace, and a chance to see his death mask. We headed for a soviet style hotel, maybe a wonder once, but now just a chance for a bed and wash and quick goodbye.

Kazbegi next, and nobody, not even me, was prepared for the drive. Snaking our way up into the mountains we passed a ski resort, soviet structures loomed from the snow as we were surrounded by the white stuff, some staring to melt and reveal the rubbish from a season of happy dwellers. The road soon turned rough, as we drove through metre-high snow beds on either side, as we went higher and higher, further and further, into the depths of what appears to be nowhere. Where the mountain was too steep, tunnels are dug, covered in snow and poorly maintained.

The Russian military highway to Kazbeki :)

The tunnels

Tim doing a roast leg of pork while the group is off trekking

Jen in the hills and the Church of Kazbeki in the distance

Zaza assured us they had stood for a hundred years and would stand for a hundred more. Kazbegi is in a valley, once more surrounded by hills and snow, surprisingly warm in the day, the temperature drops to freezing at night. Trinity Church is the main pull here, used on the cover of the current Lonely Planet, the paper and plastic cannot do this amazing part of the country any justice. A hard slog up through snow and dirt brings you out on top of the world, which inspired Jennifer to break out in song, “The hills are alive with the sound of music”, though she was met with the deathly silence only this type of isolation can bring.

Driving down the mountain, we were heading for Tbilisi, a thriving metropolis with a continental feel with an amazing history. We booked into a hotel for three night’s, it was a good time to catch up on laundry, a good shower and night life of the city. Cafe culture is alive and well, and the options are numerous. A quick walking tour by our local guide to orientate us all, and we were settled in. This was also the place I would be applying for our Azeri visas, and giving the group

some frusrating news!

Tbilisi full of old churches and cobbled streets

Turkmenistan had closed its borders due to the Swine Flu threat, and we had no choice but to reroute through Kazakhstan.Looking at in after the even you can actual understand why Turkmenistan is the only country in the world to have closed its borders and because of this we will be back there if they will let us in next year. Route changes are always avoided where possible, but Central Asian politics are buoyant, and we are always ready to make another plan and keep on going, all part and parcel of trans –continental journeys. But more about our adventures in Kazakhstan and a visit to the Aral Sea later in the blog a bit latter.

Local art on the bridges

The local bar we frequent in Tbilisi reminds you of years gone by.

From Tbilisi we headed for Telavi. Georgia is famous for its wine and makes claims to discovery of the purple juice of the Gods, some 9000 years ago. Fact or fiction, they have had plenty of time to refine their simple, but effective ways. We always like to visit the winery owned by Noona, a little old lady with a heart of gold and hands of steel. She has been making wine all her life. We visited her farm where she and her husband still toil away, but produce thousands a litres of fine red wine and the local fire water Cha-Cha.
As the wine is scooped out of the huge pottery demijohns berried in the earth, with an old bucket jugs are cleaned with Cha-Cha, the local white spirit and then filled to the brim, then decanted into shallow earthen wear bowls the traditional Georgian wine glass/cup. As the tasting begins, fresh bread from her traditional oven is served with cheeses and salads as we sample the entire selection. No spittoons and tasting glasses here.

The Local family who look after us every year!

Tasting wine out of a georgian wine horn, used for extended

toasts and must be finished at the end of the toast!

Wine in the sun, messy!!

Amazing bread and cheese with the wine

A tank of Cha-Cha and Zaza I would imagine telling how goo it is!!

We had another reason to celebrate this fine day, apart from the 120 litres of wine we now had loaded on board the truck, it was the big 30 for Amy, and a celebration was in order. A fancy dress was the call for the evening as we rolled into a bush camp not far from the winery.

A pit was dug for a bonfire and Zaza, our local guide, made us all Shashlik, a central Asian delicacy, enjoyed by everybody. Amy’s selection of the theme “ Bad Taste” is easily achieved in the local markets!!

Zaza gets ready to make shashlik

After the party we headed for a homestay in Telavi, giving everyone a glimpse of former soviet style. Fooled by the meek and mild exterior, people were impressed by the grand interior and reminds you of a difficult past for this part of the world where some had so much and others so little.
The next morning we made a late start as we headed for the border, with one more bush camp, the amazing people and scenery of Georgia was left behind, as we head for Azerbaijan.

I'll apologise at the end of this entry for my tardy posting of the blog and can only ask you to patient, broad band internet is long forgotten and even finding an internet cafe that is able to upload more than email is hard work stretching to impossible, so please be patient. We are looking after 22 great people at the same time which too takes a little bit of our time. But thank you for reading and I hope some of our adventures inspire you to join this incredible trip. Tim and Cher (Crew 2008 and 2009)