Hi all
I have lots of pretyped blog posts on my phone but the internet is too slow to load them all right now. Also we are headed into some remote territory shortly so do not expect any updates for the next 10 days or so.
Take care
Linda and James
The rain had given way to blue sky by the morning. Great! We had a good ride to Zestafoni. Fairly uneventful. Traffic got crazy in the afternoon. The one main highway in Georgia linking Turkey to Azerbaijan consists of a narrow, two lane road with no real shoulder and lumpy pavement. Not a road to be cycling on but there was no alternative.
James knew of a truck stop restaurant in Zestafoni that had served delicious khingali and let him camp on site two years ago. We decided to treat ourselves to some khingali if we make it that far today. Unfortunately the restaurant had gone out of business so no khingali today but the man on site recognized James and offered us the covered deck for camping.
Next morning it was raining again. We thought it would clear but it did not. We were told to just relax and leave tomorrow. The lady who showed up sometime in the morning also remembrered James. She was such a sweetheart. She kept making tea and coffee for us and even bought us some khajapuri for lunch. Mmm so good.
The discovery of worm in the two kilo bag of I later went for a little stroll and found an abandoned fig tree with enough fruit left on it to make a great fruity oatmeal for breakfast next day!
Just as we left our kind host's place the rain picked up again. Luckily there was a covered bus stop just down the road where we could shelter and string up the tent to dry. It rained and rained so we just sat there watching the pigs and cows grazing outside the bus stop. The cows which attempted to cross a deep, marshy patch next to the road were the most entertaining. Since the weather gave no sign of improvement we decided to ask the two cops who regularly pulled up infront of the bus stop if it would be okay to camp here. The answer was no but they said we should follow them to the police station 5 km down the road in Khobi. We agreed. The 5km turned out to be 10 km and by the time we arrived at the station we were soaking wet. We were told that we could not sleep at the station but were shown to a large abandoned building right next door. The floor had holes in it, rooms were full of dirt and heaps of garbage. Yuk. Way worse than the bus stop with a few cow pies on the ground. We were a bit upset with the cops for making us come all this way and getting soaked in the rain. They turned out to be very helpful after all because they went and asked a guy from the neighbourhood if we could camp in his little shed. The cops escorted us there and our arrival caused quite the stir among the locals. The owner of the shed welcomed us warmly but most of the neighbours just stared in our direction from the safety of their front yards and would not come any closer. The fact that we were delivered by the police seemed to frighten them.
Our host had just returned to the house to get some wine when outgoing Kibo showed up. He claimed to be our hosts brother but was really just a friend. He had clearly had a few drinks already and seemed so excited to have us here. He excused himself and returned shortly after with a bag of plums, a few chocolates and a bottle of cognac. Shortly after, our host brought bread, sausage, hazelnuts, biscuits and watermelon. He seemed a little upset with Kibo for having taken over his guests. It was a fun time though and with some encouragement some of the neighbours eventually came to say hello. After a while we got a bit worried that Kibo could become troublesome because he poured himself one shot of cognac after the othe and got louder every minute. However he turned out to be a very amiable, funny, harmless drunk. The guys left us at a reasonable hour and wished us a good night. The rain pounded on the metal roof all night and while we stayed perfectly dry in our little shed. Wonderful! Next morning we could not resist dropping a little "thank you" note off at the police station for having found us this little haven.
In the morning a great thunder storm and lightning show passed over Zugdidi causing a few more power cuts than normal. By the time we were packed and ready to leave in the afternoon the weather had somewhat cleared but the clouds promised more rain for the night. These were not good conditions for departure but we had to get back on the road to not fall behind our schedule.
We ended up leaving Zugdidi just a few hours before sunset. Not an ideal time to head off but at least there was enough daylight left for a 20 km or so. With these unpredictable weather conditions every kilometer counts. Just out of town the gear shifting mechanism on James' bike failed to work. After a quick inspection we discovered culprit: a kinked gear cable housing. Somehow a bit of rust must have formed along the cable causing it to stick to the housing thus resulting in a kink once the cable was put under tension during shifting. Luckily we were not in the most mountainous part of the world but it was not exactly flat either so not being able to shift gears is somewhat of a problem. However, James manually set the chain in a gear that should get him up most of the upcoming hills while being able to maintain a decent speed on the flat. Unfortunately, the nearest bikeshop was in Tbilisi, which is five days from here. Yeah that was a bit of a downer.
When it was starting to get dark we came through a little village and decided to ask to camp in someone's yard. Since we do not speak more than about ten words of Georgian, the reference letter which our friend Valeri had written for us came in very handy. We got permission to camp without much hesitation but our arrival and request must have been the strangest thing that has ever happened to this family. They seemed a bit stumped and slightly confused at first but were also very curious. Somehow with James's few words of Russian, my primitive English-Georgian phone app, hands, gestures and sound effects we were able to communicate where we came from and where we were going. As we were about to prepare our dinner, the man energetically gestured that food was about to be served. We said that was not necessary because we had our own but he insisted. Lo and behold, his wife put a real feast together for us. So kind! So delicious!
It rained like crazy in the night and stopped only long enough next morning for us to take the tent down without getting ourselves soaked. Typically Georgian style, our hosts made fresh khajapuri in the morning. They were baked in an iron wood stove out in the garage and instead of wood they used hazelnut shells for the fire. Mmm khajapuri!
MADLOBA! THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR YOUR HOSPITALITY!
In Georgian towns you are never more than a few hundred meters away from a little grocery store. Large super markets like the ones common in North America are very rare. Instead, most purchases are made at these little markets which actually sell a surprisingly wide variety of products. Stacks of boxes of in-season fruits and vegetables seem to spill onto the sidewalk from the shop door. Yummy!
Our numerous grocery shopping trips were definitely one of the main highlights of our stay in Batumi.
One evening we purchased some Chacha (Georgia's national drink, very similar to Macedonia's Rakia) from an old lady in a little shack just down the street. You just had to tell her how much you wanted of what drink and she then measured that amount into one of her many recycled bottles. Ours was a pretty little glass Coca Cola bottle. Gaurmajos! Cheers!
A few hours ride from Batumi we visited a family who James befriended several years ago. The welcome we received could not have been warmer!
Mamuka, one of the family's sons, had gotten married recently. We got to meet his wife's family that evening and the grandma ended up preparing a fantastic Georgian feast for all of us. Naturally, Chacha flowed freely. That night we were introduced to the Georgian tradition of elaborate toasts. Nobody drinks unless a toast is made. You are not required to empty the whole glass with every toast but all glasses must be fully topped up before a new toast can be made. I was impressed by how much thought and effort everybody put into their toasts. The few toasts I remember were friendship, distant friends, hospitality, safe travels, old and new mothers, health, a full table, parents etc.
Eventually Mamuka, Tamuna, James and I got a ride back to Mamuka's place in one of his friend's little old Russian cars. It was an adventurous and somewhat scary ride with a Georgian driver who was anxious to get home. Thank God we arrived in one piece.
Next morning we got to help Valeri, Mamuka and Lasha pick grapes for Georgia's famous home made wine. The partially fermented juice from an earlier harvest made a delicious, refreshing drink out in the vineyard. James and Valeri obviously like it.
One of my favorite components of Valeri's agricultural property was the fig tree next to the outhouse. It sure sweetened up the outhouse visits.
We totally fell in love with Jonas' airconditioned apartment so we ended up scraping our Mestia trip plans and spent a whole week in Zugdidi. Mestia would have been lovely but we just weren't in the mood to climb big mountains so too bad. Instead we got all our photos backed up, planned for the next leg of the trip and caught up with emails.
We made almost daily trips to the big outdoor market and had a lot of fun cooking dinner for Jonas every night. One night we had buckwheat stuffed peppers on the menu. James' idea. Delicious!
A few hours ride from Batumi we visited a family who James befriended several years ago. The welcome we received could not have been warmer!
Mamuka, one of the family's sons, had gotten married recently. We got to meet his wife's family that evening and the grandma ended up preparing a fantastic Georgian feast for all of us. Naturally, Chacha flowed freely. That night we were introduced to the Georgian tradition of elaborate toasts. Nobody drinks unless a toast is made. You are not required to empty the whole glass with every toast but all glasses must be fully topped up before a new toast can be made. I was impressed by how much thought and effort everybody put into their toasts. The few toasts I remember were friendship, distant friends, hospitality, safe travels, old and new mothers, health, a full table, parents etc.
Eventually Mamuka, Tamuna, James and I got a ride back to Mamuka's place in one of his friend's little old Russian cars. It was an adventurous and somewhat scary ride with a Georgian driver who was anxious to get home. Thank God we arrived in one piece.
Next morning we got to help Valeri, Mamuka and Lasha pick grapes for Georgia's famous home made wine. The partially fermented juice from an earlier harvest made a delicious, refreshing drink out in the vineyard. James and Valeri obviously like it.
One of my favorite components of Valeri's agricultural property was the fig tree next to the outhouse. It sure sweetened up the outhouse visits.
We totally fell in love with Jonas' airconditioned apartment so we ended up scraping our Mestia trip plans and spent a whole week in Zugdidi. Mestia would have been lovely but we just weren't in the mood to climb big mountains so too bad. Instead we got all our photos backed up, planned for the next leg of the trip and caught up with emails.
We made almost daily trips to the big outdoor market and had a lot of fun cooking dinner for Jonas every night. One night we had buckwheat stuffed peppers on the menu. James' idea. Delicious!
In Georgian towns you are never more than a few hundred meters away from a little grocery store. Large super markets like the ones common in North America are very rare. Instead, most purchases are made at these little markets which actually sell a surprisingly wide variety of products. Stacks of boxes of in-season fruits and vegetables seem to spill onto the sidewalk from the shop door. Yummy!
Our numerous grocery shopping trips were definitely one of the main highlights of our stay in Batumi.
One evening we purchased some Chacha (Georgia's national drink, very similar to Macedonia's Rakia) from an old lady in a little shack just down the street. You just had to tell her how much you wanted of what drink and she then measured that amount into one of her many recycled bottles. Ours was a pretty little glass Coca Cola bottle. Gaurmajos! Cheers!
After a few well needed days indoors we finally set out to view the attractions of the town. The two big fountains but mainly the palace over in the park. However, we did not get that far because we ran into Ross and Laura, two cyclists from Australia, and ended up hanging out with them all day. It was great hearing all their stories.
GREAT MEETING YOU TWO! BEST OF LUCK WITH THE REST OF THE TRIP.
This pretty much sums up our very restful, not very eventful week in Zugdidi.
THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH JONAS FOR THE USE OF YOUR APARTMENT AND FOR EATING OUR DINNERS. WE HOPE YOU AND CAITLIN ENDED UP HAVING A GREAT TIME IN POLAND. TAKE CARE.
We totally fell in love with Jonas' airconditioned apartment so we ended up scraping our Mestia trip plans and spent a whole week in Zugdidi. Mestia would have been lovely but we just weren't in the mood to climb big mountains so too bad. Instead we got all our photos backed up, planned for the next leg of the trip and caught up with emails.
We made almost daily trips to the big outdoor market and had a lot of fun cooking dinner for Jonas every night. One night we had buckwheat stuffed peppers on the menu. James' idea. Delicious!
Our next destination was Svaneti and Mestia in the mountaneous area of north western Georgia. On his last visit to Georgia, James had stayed with Jonas on his way through Gori but meanwhile Jonas had moved to Zugdidi, which was on the way to Mestia. He said we are welcome to stay at his place and also leave some luggage behind that we would not need for the round trip to Mestia.
The morning we left Valeri's place to head up to Zugdidi, a thunderstorm was moving in from the sea. At first we got to enjoy a great lightning show since we were riding directly towards the storm. Fortunately bike tires are good insulators so we were not too worried. Soon though a torrential rain soaked us through and through. Since the air was still warm it was quite fun getting drenched. The storm eventually cleared and somehow our clothes dried despite the high humidity level.
In Georgia, cows don't graze in fenced fields and rarely do they have a herder. Instead they just roam around in the towns, hang out along the road side and generally seem to enjoy standing in the middle of the road with a dull stare, chewing their cud. Having a semi truck zoom past their nose with only inches to spare does not faze them in the least. Minor vehicle and cow traffic jams are thus quite common here. Unfortunately collisions do occur and the cow tends to be the loser, as we sadly had to witness right infront of us. Poor cow.
When we arrived in Zugdidi Jonas was still at work but we ended up getting invited for a drink by one of Jonas' coworkers and his girlfriend at the Panama Cafe.
THANKS YOU TWO FOR THE REFRESHING BEERS AND SNACKS. IT WAS GREAT TO MEET YOU AND CHAT FOR A BIT.
Snack time in Georgia: grapes, figs fresh off the tree and partially fermented grape juice. Yum!
We spent one afternoon at the beach with Mamuka, Tamuna, Lasha and Sveta. It was great! The Black Sea was surprisingly warm and here, about 17km south of Poti, the beach was beautifully sandy, unlike Batumi's rocky shore line.
Anyone interested in investing in a Georgian sand castle? Beach front property. Guaranteed flooding and very high maintenance.
Georgian houses tend to be rather sparsely furnished with few or no decorations on the walls. It is very simple and beautiful, I think. Here is a picture of our friend's dining room
One morning Sveta made Khajapuri for breakfast. Home made Khajapuri, yum!!!
THANK YOU SO MUCH VALERI, SVETA, MAMUKA, TAMUNA AND LASHA FOR MAKING US FEEL SO AT HOME. IT WAS SO GREAT TO MEET YOU/ SEE YOU AGAIN. CONGRATULATIONS MAMUKA AND TAMUNA TO YOUR WEDDING. GOD BLESS AND HOPE TO SEE YOU ALL AGAIN SOON!
A few hours ride from Batumi we visited a family who James befriended several years ago. The welcome we received could not have been warmer!
Mamuka, one of the family's sons, had gotten married recently. We got to meet his wife's family that evening and the grandma ended up preparing a fantastic Georgian feast for all of us. Naturally, Chacha flowed freely. That night we were introduced to the Georgian tradition of elaborate toasts. Nobody drinks unless a toast is made. You are not required to empty the whole glass with every toast but all glasses must be fully topped up before a new toast can be made. I was impressed by how much thought and effort everybody put into their toasts. The few toasts I remember were friendship, distant friends, hospitality, safe travels, old and new mothers, health, a full table, parents etc.
Eventually Mamuka, Tamuna, James and I got a ride back to Mamuka's place in one of his friend's little old Russian cars. It was an adventurous and somewhat scary ride with a Georgian driver who was anxious to get home. Thank God we arrived in one piece.
Next morning we got to help Valeri, Mamuka and Lasha pick grapes for Georgia's famous home made wine. The partially fermented juice from an earlier harvest made a delicious, refreshing drink out in the vineyard. James and Valeri obviously like it.
One of my favorite components of Valeri's agricultural property was the fig tree next to the outhouse. It sure sweetened up the outhouse visits.
