Kutaisi, Part 3: Doing Lovely Nothing

Kutaisi, Georgia. Full moon.

Kathy, Marie, Sandy, and I arose from our hostel beds Sunday morning, and at various stages, made our respective ways out to the shady courtyard. We drank coffee or tea and munched on nuts or cookies and chatted. We did this for most of the morning.

Kutaisi, Georgia.

We pulled ourselves away from this idyllic doing-nothingness to pack up and go to the old city center, where our plan was to find breakfast and ride on the tram. George dropped us off at one of the refurbished areas in old town, in front of a cafe that served fare other than Georgian. I had two eggs, ham, and toast. Very ordinary and plain in a good way. We sat around and talked some more. Presently, we stepped outside and ran into an Iowan couple, Tony and Alicia, who're taking a year to check out the planet. Their website here.

Kutaisi, Georgia.

Kutaisi, Georgia.

The four of us ambled toward the tram area, through a charming pocket park, only to see an irresistable tableau: shady trees by the river with tables and chairs just waiting for us to gather round for more doing-of-nothing. We didn't even make an attempt to resist. The breeze within the shade was cool and sweet.

















Seeing as how we had a three-hour marshrutka ride back to Tbilisi (with Sandy jumping off at Gori), we knew we couldn't sit here all day. We reluctantly left this spot for our tram ride.

Kutaisi, Georgia.

I liked how the red and yellow tram cars looked old, with pleasing curved lines.















The tram operators aren't shy about packing people in. Yikes.

BTW, the cost of the tram ride is 50 tetri each way.

Kutaisi, Georgia.

We got up to the top and wow! Another pretty park - bustling with families enjoying the rides or just walking about, singles sitting with a cold beer in the plentiful shade. We didn't intend to stay long, but we found ourselves again seduced into just .... being there. Marie and Kathy especially loved the diversity of trees here (and in the Kutaisi area in general). I loved the Spanish music piped through the park, a nice change from the pop one often hears. 

Kutaisi, Georgia.

   
The clock was ticking and we had to think about that ride back go Gori and Kutaisi, so we pulled ourselves away and went back down on the tram.

Kutaisi, Georgia.

 
The river level was much higher today than it was when Sandy and I visited Kutaisi in March.

Upon landing, I asked a Georgian where to catch the #1 bus back to the new part of Kutaisi, where we'd catch our marshrutka. He personally escorted us to the precise spot. This is what Georgians do for guests in their country.

We selected a marshrutka and after a little kerfluffle about the fare (we were charged 12 lari, which differed from the 10 lari it cost to get there from Tbilisi), we were on our way.

Loved the WCs at our pit stop.  A Georgian woman and girl, sitting nearby, burst into laughter when I took a photo of the WC. This pleased me. I don't mind at all when, as a tourist, I provide good-natured entertainment to the local folks, whether it be due to my pronunciation, performing drama queen street theater, or taking photos of what they believe to be the mundane.

Pit stop between Kutaisi and Tbilisi. The WC.

A good weekend.

Kutaisi, Part 1: Promete Cave

Promete Cave, Kutaisi, Georgia.

This was the weekend to see the caves in Kutaisi!

Sandy and I  made an abortive attempt to see them in March, only to find out they wouldn't be open til April. Then May. Then the end of May.

There are at least three caves near Kutaisi open to the public. Our plan was to see all three: Sataplia, Promete, and Navenakhevi.

We'd received a lead on a new hostel, Hostel Kutaisi, which we planned to use.

Colleagues Marie and Kathy joined us for the weekend.

Promete Cave, Kutaisi, Georgia.

Getting to Kutaisi

Sandy picked up a marshrutka in Gori. Marie, Kathy, and I got one at Didube in Tbilisi. In the process, I discovered a new-to-me WC around the corner of the short strip mall adjacent to the metro entrance. CLEAN! Turkish style, but clean! 20 tetri that one popped into an automated turnstile. I also noticed a cafe that was in the last or second-to-last storefront of the strip.

We left Didube about 9:00 a.m. and arrived in Kutaisi about 12:30. We disembarked across from the McDonald's, Sandy joined us about 10 minutes later, and we enjoyed a bite to eat 'n drink. We hopped on the #1 bus to the old city center. We walked to Hostel Kutaisi, which is about 1 km from the big city-center fountain.

We selected the room with four beds, then agreed to George's request of 20 lari per cave (for our group) to ferry us and wait while we did the tours. We felt this was very worthwhile.

Promete Cave, Kutaisi, Georgia.

Promete Cave

Promete Cave, named after Prometheus, is a long cave - 1 kilometer. It's also got some really kick-ass formations. Ribbons, waterfalls, jellyfish, monsters ...

I regretted that the cave managers opted for multi-colored lights and music inside the cave. Caves are quiet except for the drip of water or the fluttering of bats' wings. That would have been so nice to hear. The almost nothing.

Unfortunately, recent rains had raised the water level inside the cave too high for the boat ride, so we didn't get to do that.

Promete Cave, Kutaisi, Georgia.

Notwithstanding these quibbles, Promete Cave was very cool. In fact, I think it may have the most diverse formations I've ever seen.

Cost was 6 lari. (The boat ride would have been an additional 7 lari.) This cave, I believe, is closed on Tuesdays, while Sataplia Cave is closed on Mondays. Or the reverse. The upshot is that if someone wants to see both caves in one day, it'll have to happen Wednesday through Sunday.

The slide show:

Rustavi: A Deluge

In the marshrutka, en route to Tbilisi, we could see a deluge holding siege over by Nely's childhood village, Tsalaskuri.

It was damned impressive. It was over on the other side of the vehicle, so I asked a girl by the window to take the photos for me. She kindly obliged.

From Rustavi-Tbilisi road.

From Rustavi-Tbilisi road.

Svaneti, Part 7: Back Home, Not Without Drama

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia.

Old plan

So remember what I said about planning?

Yeah.

"Zara," our guesthouse hostess, happened to visit with her neighbor on Sunday morning while we had breakfast. She returned with a report that the neighbor had planned to fly to Tbilisi that afternoon, but that the flight had been cancelled. Yup, that meant us, too.

So what would have been a fine day for exploring more Svaneti territory and then a one-hour afternoon flight to Tbilisi, turned into a new plan: Arranging for a way back down to Zugdidi in a chartered marshrutka (2.5 hours) and then a five-hour marshrutka ride from Zugdidi to Tbilisi.

Oh, and did I mention that Kate's flight back to the U.S. left at 5:00 the next morning?

So we had to leave, like, now.


New plan

Zara helped us negotiate a marshrutka price of 150 lari for the ride to Zugdidi (sometimes costs up to 200 lari) while I called Pegasus Airlines and ensured we could get an immediate refund at the Mestia airport.

So who turned out to be the marshrutka driver? Yup, the same guy who brought us up to Mestia.

Airport

First stop: Mestia airport terminal. Which reminded me of a caterpillar.

Caterpillar

Mestia airport terminal, Georgia.

The inside is modern.

Mestia airport, Georgia.

Mestia airport, Georgia.

I will say that Pegasus Airlines gave a prompt refund in cash. However, the airline takes no responsibility for facilitating return travel for stranded travelers. If flight cancellations were a rare event, I could understand that, but it's my understanding that such cancellations happen frequently. Excellent customer service would dictate that they'd have an arrangement for expedited transport to Tbilisi in such circumstances instead of forcing their customers to fend for themselves at the last minute.

View of Mestia from airport.

Marshrutka from Mestia to Zugdidi

Our driver did his best to get us down the mountain to Zugdidi in good time, which we appreciated.

On the way, he stopped so we could capture this view of a thundering stream. You can't tell the scale from the video, but the log and boulder in the middle of this stream are immense.

Marshrutka from Zugdidi to Tbilisi


Sparrow had already reported to us that her marshrutka hadn't actuallly left Mestia til 6:30 and that it had taken a slow three hours to get to Zugdidi.

Her man-on-the-ground intel told us that the afternoon Zugdidi-to-Tbilisi marshrutkas left at 3:00 and 4:30. There had to be at least 7 passengers on a marshrutka for it to leave, and Kate, Sandy, and I agreed that if we had to make up the cost difference for missing passengers, we'd do so. Thanks to our Mestia driver, we made it to Zugdidi about 2:30 and then .... proceeded to wait .... until .... 4:goddamn:thirty for it to leave. And it was hot. And we knew we wouldn't get to Tbilisi before 9:30 p.m. That seven-passenger minimum business? Don't know about that - the marshrutka evidently wasn't gonna move til every last seat was filled, but we didn't know that then.

My observation of Georgians is that they are not averse to a little drama. So at about 3:30, I went inside to the ticket office and asked, in mangled Georgian-English when this 3:00 marshrutka was going to leave, to which the ticket agent said, in Georgian, something like 4:30, to which I expressed my frustration in English and to which she replied with equal fervor, in Georgian, something unintelligible. We had a little more back and forth in our respective languages, both confident in our righteous high dudgeon, and then separated.

I went back outside and threw some desultory verbal chops at the marshrutka driver, who was standing in the shade with some of his comrades, smoking a cigarette, and he just kind of laughed at me, at which point I called the Pegasus airline person at the Mestia airport, chewed on her ear a little bit, and then handed the phone to the marshrutka driver so she could box him around on my behalf.  He took things a little more seriously then, and subsequently kept me up to date as to the passenger count and his estimate of how many minutes it was going to be before we departed. My fellow marshrutka inhabitants, some of whom had suffered stolidly for nigh on an hour and a half by now, observed the theater in silence.

So nothing really changed, but the performances provided some tele-novelaic relief.

Eventually, we did depart. On the way out of Zugdidi, I took this video. The Zugdidi area is pretty. I especially like the attitudes of the cows. Unlike in other parts of Georgia, where cows have a lie-down alongside the road, the Zugdidi area cows plop themselves smack in the middle of the road, stretch out comfortably, and take it as a given that vehicles will go around them.

At a pit stop before Gori, there was a busload of boys who'd been or were on their way to a singing engagement. They'd chosen this spot as a place for an on-the-road supra, and they sang some polyphonic pieces before eating. I was so glad Kate had a chance to hear this right before she left.

I also saw a couple of  young boys, maybe age 10 or so, buying a bottle of some hard liquor from one of the vendors. Something for the road, don't you know.

Sandy got off the marshrutka along the highway by Gori.

Kate and I arrived in Tbilisi about 9:30 p..m. or so - we said our goodbyes at Station Square, where she got on the metro to return to her guesthouse and a few hours of sleep before her plane left early the next morning, and I hopped onto a marshrutka to Rustavi.

Svaneti, Part 5: Mestia, Subpart A

Mestia, Svaneti.

Kate, Sandy, Sparrow, and I arrived in Mestia around 10ish a.m.

First impressions

A bit cloudy. Noise from construction. Muddy, gravelly roads from construction and maybe snowmelt. Buildings in various stages of completion. Brand-new hostel on the main square, adjacent to a brand-new tourist office. Small park in the square. Mountains surrounding.

Lodgings

The marshrutka driver who'd brought us up from Zugdidi had attempted to steer us to his (or his employer's) guesthouse, but we weren't in love with its curb appeal and we had him turn around and return us to the town square.

We walked into the government tourist office and asked about a list of guesthouses, to which the rep responded, "Go to the guesthouse your driver suggested. It is a good one."

We explained that we'd already considered and rejected it, thanks. We sought a place with a view and that wasn't too far out of town. We boiled our options to two choices - the new Hostel Seti next door or a guesthouse (I'll call it Zara's) that was in town and had a view. Two of us looked at Seti and then two of us looked at Zara's.

I didn't go inside, but Sparrow and Kate reported that Seti had a nice view, plentiful bathrooms, and everything was very clean and new. Kate and Sandy then walked up to Zara's, about 1/4 mile from the town center, and reported that it had a nice view, spacious rooms with a homey feel, but only one bathroom.

Seti had no meal plan and it was 20 lari per person. The four of us would share a room.

Zara's did have a meal plan and it was 40 lari total per person, 20 for the bed and 10 for each of two meals. We'd sleep two people to a room.

We agreed to go with Zara's and walked to her place.

Mestia, Svaneti. View from guesthouse.

Beautiful view from both an open balcony and an enclosed one. In a country that is still mad for wallpaper, I loved the painted walls, one bedroom in a pristine white, the other in a spring-fresh pink. Sparrow's and my bedroom was huge, with a large dining room table. A couch and two upholstered chairs were grouped around a coffee table.** The windows looked out onto splendid mountain views. Sandy and Kate shared the pink bedroom, which they entered from the open balcony. 

Mestia, Svaneti. One of our guesthouse rooms.

Turned out the food was only so-so. The only bathroom seemed to be shared also with the family, which meant 8 or so people used the same facility. That was a bit of a bummer at times. Plus the water was shut off twice, something that apparently never happens. Who knows.

Mestia, Svaneti. View from guesthouse.

"Zara" was quite pleasant and helpful in sharing information, especially when we needed her assistance in tracking down Kate's camera after our return to Tbilisi. But the reason I'm not sharing her guesthouse name is because of the weirdness that occurred just before we checked out. "Zara" had explained that Svans are proud of the fact that they are "pure," as they don't mix (i.e. marry) with other groups like the rest of the Georgians, as such practices are "bad." Svans are admired, for example, for their white skin and fair hair and eyes.

This was off-putting.

Mestia, Svaneti. View from guesthouse.

A walk around town

Shortly after we arrived at Zara's, it began to rain, and the four of us took it as a sign that we were supposed to just relax, drink some coffee, consume some munchies, and enjoy the view. No feeling guilty for thinking we should go out and explore, hike up a mountain right away, or otherwise do something.

Sometimes we need such reminders.

Kate doesn't need any such reminders. She contentedly opened up a book, stretched out on her bed (which faced a beautiful view through the window), and commenced to reading, fully aware that a nap might ensue.

When the rain stopped, Sandy, Sparrow, and I set to scoping out Mestia.

We ran into a self-proclaimed vagabond from - where? Maybe it was the U.S. Or Mexico. Or Poland. It was all a bit vague. But his intent is to be the best photo-journalist in the world, as soon as he bought a really good camera. Or maybe he already has one. And he was on his way to meet someone - a stranger - with whom he'd hike up a mountain from Mestia. At 5:00 p.m. But in the near future, he had an appointment to get smuggled into Syria. And somewhere else, maybe Afghanistan for a chat with the Taliban, I don't remember. But by the way, he'd been robbed just the night before. Or two nights before. And all of his money was stolen and all he had left was 10 lari. He guessed it was because he'd fallen asleep on a park bench in Tbilisi after he got so wasted drinking. But he'd be OK; he always was.

.... So anyway, we continued our walk.


**Wait!!! Look at the photo of that bedroom. There was no coffee table. Just goes to show the unreliablity of memory or so-called eyewitness reports. There would have been a coffee table between the couch and the two chairs in an American setting, so obviously my brain "auto-corrected" my memory. Sheesh.

Svaneti, Part 3: Road to Mestia

Svaneti: Road to Mestia

When we hopped off the train, there was Sparrow. She and I had been communicating for the past hour via phone, so she knew when we were to arrive and had lassoed us a marshrutka for the next leg of our trip.

Side note: Sandy, Sparrow, and I are with TLG (Teach and Learn with Georgia). Now that I've been in Georgia awhile, it's easy to take for granted the phones we received from TLG when we began our tenures. We can call any other TLGer or TLG staff at no charge. Being in a foreign country, having this phone is a real benefit. Yup, we pay to fill up the prepay accounts, but it's still a tremendous value.

... and off were on our 2.5 or 3-hour drive to Mestia, the best-known town in Svaneti. We paid 20 lari per person for this private charter.

I'll be quiet now and let the photos tell the story of our drive:

Svaneti, Part 2: The Overnight Train to Zugdidi

Svaneti, Georgia

For the first leg of our journey to Svaneti, Sandy, Kate, and I took the overnight train from Tbilisi to Zugdidi.

I’d been worried about our tickets – they were only 11 lari apiece and the ticket agent had asked Kate (who purchased the tickets) if she was OK with 2^nd class, as that’s all that was available.

The tickets from Batumi to Tbilisi had been 20 lari for a 4-bed cabin and 40 lari for a 2-bed cabin, so I fretted about these 11-lari tickets. This is because I’d heard about the dreaded platzkart class, where I had the impression travelers stretched out on bare wooden pallets in a car filled with same.

But Marina, who owns the guesthouse where Kate stayed, pored over the ticket information and pronounced that our beds were, indeed, beds and were, indeed, in a private cabin.

So we arrived timely to the train station, climbed aboard our train car and entered our cabin. Tight quarters, but not terrible. We’d shared the cost of the 4^th bunk, so we had the place to ourselves. Sandy volunteered to take the top bunk and Kate and I each had a bottom bunk. No sheets or pillowcases on the vinyl mattresses or for the naked cloth mattress or pillow. I was wondering, "Is this what 2nd class means? No sheets or pillowcases"? But the porter did eventually distribute same.

Having one toilet for 40+ people in a train car is really not sufficient. And the condition of the toilet was foul. People, people: Cleaning supplies don’t cost much. There’s no excuse for such toilets on a public train. They should be cleaned at least once midway through the trip. 

Unfortunately, we couldn't see much out our window as it was pretty grimy.  

But I guess when all was said and done, it got the job done. We slept. We arrived without mishap. And for only 11 lari.  

Sparrow was our man on the ground in Zugdidi; she'd agreed to procure us four seats on the 7:30 a.m. marshrutka to Mestia.

Svaneti, Part 1: Planning

Svaneti, Georgia

You can't get to Svaneti from here. 

Well, you can, but it requires some planning. Do you take the overnight train from Tbilisi to Zugdidi and then the marshrutka? One marshrutka from Tbilisi to Mestia (in Svaneti)? Or one marshrutka to Zugdidi and then a second to Mestia? Or do you fly? Both ways? One way? In the summer, do you take the retro Soviet plane? Or do you stick with the allegedly more reliable plane via Pegasus?

Kate, Sandy, Sparrow, and I decided on this plan: 

• Kate, Sandy, and I would take the overnight train from Tbilisi to Zugdidi. We'd buy all four tickets (11 lari each, or ~ $6.50 USD) for a four-bed sleeper cabin (called a kupay in Georgian) so we could have it to ourselves. 
• Sandy and I would meet Friday evening (Sandy from Gori; me from Rustavi) at Marina's guesthouse, where Kate was staying, then we'd go to the train station about 10:30 p.m. or so. 
• Upon arrival in Zugdidi at 7:30 the next morning, Sparrow, who's based there, would join us and we'd all take a marshrutka to Mestia.  
• For the return, Kate, Sandy, and I would fly back to Tbilisi in the Pegasus plane (75 lari each, or ~ $46 USD), and Sparrow would take a marshrutka back to Zugdidi. 

All of us helped with the planning and execution in some way. Kate devoted a goodly part of a day acquiring train tickets at Station Square and flight tickets at the Pegasus airline office in Saburtalo. Sandy did the preliminary research on the plane situation and also checked out the lodging options in Mestia. Sparrow found us a marshrutka in Zugdidi and met us at the train. Come to think of it, I'm not sure what I did to contribute to this little adventure!

There are some quotes about planning I like:

The plan is nothing; planning is everything. (Eisenhower)

No plan survives contact with the enemy. (Moltke the Elder)


So true.

Borjomi, Part 5: Bakuriani and Back

Kate, Sandy, and I arrived in Bakuriani via Kukushka.

To say Bakuriani was dead is to presume that it sometimes has life. Well, sure it does. In the winter and summer.

In the spring: Nada.

Bakuriani is a ski resort in the winter and in the summer a respite from the heat of Tbilisi.

We had a difficult time finding a restaurant that was open. We just missed, apparently, being able to lunch at the Prego restaurant, but did enjoy the classic Georgian body language of this chef out behind Prego:

Bakuriani, Georgia.

Bakuriani, Georgia.

The above two-part display is a response to my request for permission to take his photo. In Georgian body language, he is saying:

"Of courrrrse! Why wouldn't you want to take a photo of me in my Georgian splendiforousness! I am truly a magnificent representation of the wonder of all things Georgian, am I not?"

When we did find an open restaurant, I liked this page on its menu:

Bakuriani, Georgia.

I've seen "sprats" often on Georgian menus. Don't know what they are. I'm pretty sure the "lard with garlic" refers to small, sliced or chunked portions of cold pork fat. Not the succulent, crispy fat off of a roast ham or pig. No, it's more along the lines of what you imagine whale blubber to be.

I also like the suggestions of what food to order to go with one's vodka or beer rather than the reverse, i.e. what wine to go with the food you plan to order.

There was some mix-up about when we could take a marshrutka from Bakuriani to Tbilisi. Eventually this was cleared up by learning the answer was: You can't. Not today, anyway. That marsh sailed awhile back.

So we had to take a marsh back to Borjomi, and from there take one to Tbilisi. Sandy hoped to take a marshrutka that would return her to Gori. (The marshrutka from Borjomi to Tbilisi would go by Gori and Sandy could take that, but it meant being left off by the highway and having to take a 2nd transportation to Gori center.)

So back to Borjomi we went, at a considerably faster pace than we experienced by Kukushka just a few hours earlier.

Borjomi, Georgia.

A ride on Borjomi's main thoroughfare: 

Upon arrival at Borjomi's marshrutka area, Kate and I pretty much moved seamlessly from one marshrutka to another for our return to Tbilisi. Sandy was told that a marshrutka leaving for Gori would arrive within minutes, only to discover (while Kate and I observed from our seats in the Tbilisi marshrutka) that this marshrutka had actually left while she was receiving this critical information and it was the last to leave for Gori for the day. Sandy decided to get a marshrutka to Khashuri, then a Gori marshrukta from there. 

Kate and I pulled out of Borjomi, leaving Sandy to her fate.

As we neared our Gori drive-by, the overcast skies and recent rain made for beautiful scenes:

Sandy arrived at her destination safely.

Borjomi, Part 1: Prelude

Borjomi, Georgia. Spring flowers in Mineral Spring Park.

The plan: A weekend in Borjomi and Bakuriani.

I collected Kate at her guesthouse in Tbilisi and then we went to Didube station to get a marshrutka to Borjomi, where we'd meet up with Sandy, who was coming in from Gori.

The marshrutka fare was 8 lari and the trip took about 2.5 hours.

Borjomi, Georgia. Hotel Victoria

Sandy had already arrived and checked out the Hotel Victoria, which we agreed would be fine.






















Cost was 20 lari per bed. We were in the top floor - the garret - in the Three Little Bears' room. En suite bath, assuming no one used the adjoining bedroom with king-size bed.







Fell in love with Borjomi immediately. Now this was the Georgia I'd had in mind when I signed up last year! Forests, rivers, parks. Shade. Beautiful and interesting architecture.

Across the street from the hotel was a small fairy-tale castle. Vacant and fallen into disrepair. The back of the building, and its second floor, is level with the street we were on. The building's front is on Borjomi's Little Park, with its two stories fully exposed.

Borjomi, Georgia.

Borjomi, Georgia.

On the way to lunch in Little Park, we walked along our hotel street, and then into the park.

We saw an intensely yellow house.

And a many-angled house.

Saw these steps between two houses. Reminded me of Tlaxcala, Mexico.

Borjomi, Georgia.

Steps in Tlaxcala, Mexico.Vecino Church.

Now that I pulled up the photo of the Tlaxcala steps, I don't see the connection so much. Maybe the connection clicked in my mind because Kate and I (and Pam) traveled together on that trip, too.

There was a lovely church courtyard in Little Park.

Borjomi, Georgia.

At lunch (forgettable), we saw this trophy on the restaurant wall, but didn't know what it was.

Walked across the park way to the graceful train station. Loved the play of light and shadow inside.

Borjomi, Georgia. Train station interior.

Borjomi, Georgia. Train station interior.

Borjomi, Georgia. Train station interior.

Borjomi, Georgia. Train station interior.

Borjomi, Georgia. Train station interior.

Borjomi, Georgia. Train station interior.

We poked our heads into the restaurant that shares the train station space. Impressed by the draped fabric beneath the greenhouse ceiling. We made a plan to eat dinner there that night and to listen to promised Georgian music.

Borjomi, Georgia. Restaurant adjacent to train station.

Borjomi, Georgia. Restaurant adjacent to train station.

Finished with lunch, it was time to take a walk.

We visited the information center and decided to go for the walk to the spring pool in Mineral Spring Park rather than for a hike in the national park. Based on other TLGers' experience, it seemed that hikes in the park were fraught with laugh-about-it-later near-disasters, while the walk in the Mineral Spring Park was really pretty, no drama attached.   

Or so we thought. (Note foreshadowing here.)