Kate (and Pam) On the Loose, Part 10: Jordan

My good friends, Kate and Pam, were in Jerusalem and Jordan before coming to Georgia. Kate started as a solo adventuress in Egypt. Kate and Pam met up in Jerusalem. From Kate's journal:

Petra, Jordan. Treasury Building. Photo credit: Kate

 
There are three crossing points between Israel and Jordan.  One is at Eilat in the south.  If you remember I crossed there with the Russian group leaving Egypt.  It took three hours in the middle of the night.  The crossing at Allenby Bridge requires a visa as it is the only point Palestinians can cross into Israel.  We crossed at the Jordan River crossing.  We expected it would take many hours but got through in one hour.  I had my story ready as the guide on the Russian tour said they might give me trouble since I said I would only stay in Israel one day-but they didn't even question me.

We then got a taxi for the four-hour drive down Kings Highway to Petra.  I slept all the way since I wasn't feeling well.  Pam conversed with the driver even though he had minimal English.  He made several calls to find us lodging in Petra.  We ended up with a perfectly located, reasonably priced hotel.  No problem.

The next day we went to the archeological site of Petra-truly one of the wonders of the world.  You enter through the Sig ( a narrow canyon with 100 ft rock walls on either side).  The rock walls are smooth and curved,  the rocks have layers of color - black, beige, red, pink, and gray.  In the 1960s there was a torrential rain which caused a flash flood.  The flood drowned several French nuns.  After that the Swiss built a series of small trap dams in the walls to prevent future flooding.

Many nations have participated in the excavation and maintenance of this treasured site.  After walking through the Sig for 20 minutes you turn a corner and there is the Treasury Building. An imposing red rock building carved into the face of a mountain.  ( I will send a picture under separate cover) There are many other temples, tombs, and structures in this large complex.  The complex was built by the Nabateans in the 6th century.  Did I mention it was very hot and dusty and we walked and walked.  There were cute Bedouin children offering rides on horses, donkeys, camels and horse drawn carriages.  We rode everything but a camel.  I did mention it was hot didn't I.

We talked with several handsome young bedouin men as we had a cold drink.  When they found out we had beautiful daughters one man said "bring them here I will marry them-his friends said you are already married, he replied, no problem".  They live in cave homes 30 minutes from Petra and commute by donkey.  The caves have tv, computer, and lights all powered by a generator.

We bought a two day pass to Petra and even though we were exhausted after the first day we went for the second day.  By the end of the second day I said I cannot walk the twenty minutes out of the Sig.  The problem was we had spent all our money.  I said we'll get in a carriage and deal with no money when it's time to pay.  So we did.  At the end of the ride I told the driver we had no money but if he would wait we'd go to the ATM.  He put us on horses and we rode to the ATM.  Of course we had to pay for that ride also.  No matter.

The next day we went to Wadi Musa, a nature preserve of rocky mountains banked by sand dunes and vast expanse of barren desert.  It is a stark but awesome landscape.  I celebrated Easter in this wonderful creation of God.  Pam had booked us a two day one night tour owned by two Bedouin brothers.  We traveled in the back of a pickup truck with a covering for shade.  We toured for about four hours.  At one point our driver (a Bedouin dressed in a white gown with a red and white headress-very striking and handsome) said now you get out and walk, I will go ahead and prepare lunch.  So we did, walking for 30 minutes.  Did I mention it was hot and dusty here too!   At one point there was a fork in the sandy path.

Pam chose the way and got us there safely.  The guide had spread a woven mat for us to sit on, gathered some twigs for a fire and made us tea.  They do love tea flavored with sage or mint.

The camp we stayed over night at had about 15 tents set up. We slept on cots and it had a dirt floor.  The tents were covered in a goat hair material.  There were bathrooms (western style- not Turkish- I'm too old to squat - I can get down but getting up is a big problem- perhaps too much information.  Also a dining and lounging area.  Dinner was a Bedouin BBQ,  chicken and veggies baked in a metal tub in ground covered with sand.  It was delicious and accompanied with many salads.

After dinner the men played the lute and sang and danced.  The sky was filled with many bright stars.  The next morning I rode a camel for two hours back to the visitor center.  Enjoyed the ride very much, the trick is to relax and go with the jostling as opposed to riding a horse where you try to sit erect.  Oh well, I didn't fall off and the camel didn't spit at me.

Next onto Aqaba by taxi.  Pam booked us into a charming beachside hotel with a swimming pool and terrace.  We enjoyed the luxury.  I don't think I mentioned it but during one of our many taxi rides the driver gave Pam a nice massage of her hand and fingers. She said it helped with the bit of arthritis in her hands.

I was feeling a bit neglected but at the hotel near the pool I asked an older man something, after answering my question, he said sit down.  He then proceed to message my head, earlobes, and shoulders.-very nice.  I can't imagine this happening in the USA but when in Jordan do as the Jordanians do.

On to Tel Aviv and the flight to Georgia!


KATE

Georgian Jokes: Guria

Georgian women from Guria (Guruli women) have a reputation for quick tempers and venomous words.


Did you hear about the Guruli woman who died? 
She swallowed her own saliva. 


Where a Guruli woman pees, the grass will never grow.  

Kate (and Pam) on the Loose, Part 9: After Jerusalem

 My good friends, Kate and Pam, were in Jerusalem and Jordan before coming to Georgia. Kate started as a solo adventuress in Egypt. Kate and Pam met up in Jerusalem. From Kate's journal:


When Pam and I left Jerusalem our destination was Cesarea as there are Roman ruins to view.  The trip there involves lugging our luggage on two taxis and a train.  Quite exhausting.  We stayed in a guest house in Binyamina.  This area was purchased by Baron Rothschild in the 1920's and settled by a group of Jewish immigrants.  It is a small resort town known for its wineries.  We spent the day touring the ruins which are on the Mediterraen Sea.  We met an artist from California.  She does very interesting fabric art.  Pam and I both splurged and bought a piece.  Mine will look great on the back porch.

I had an Israeli dish for breakfast, shakshuka (misspelled I'm afraid).  It was several eggs poached in a marinara type sauce.  Quite good but enough to feed an army.

Next we went to Nazareth which is a large city inhabited mostly by Palestinians.  We stayed in a guesthouse run by nuns.  It was in this crowed noisy neighborhood but when you entered the gate, it was a quiet oasis.  Most houses are surrounded by a tall solid fence or wall.  The small garden had many flowers and trees, also some fruit trees.  We stayed for two nights.  We toured many churches and ate a lot of good street food.  We also went to Nazareth Village.  It is a re-creation of houses and a wine and olive press as it might have been at the time of Jesus.  There also were many wild flowers growing on the side of the hill and a few goats tended by a shepherd.  It was a quiet oasis in a busy city.  It was quite well done and very touching.

Do you know that grapes are crushed by feet (men only) because if you crush the seeds it makes the wine bitter?  I always thought they stomped for the fun of it.  Olives on the other hand are crushed by a large stone because the pits need to be crushed also as it adds to the flavor.

The next day we took a bus tour of many places around the Sea of Galilee where Jesus carried out his ministry. We saw Cana, commemorated by a church where you can renew marriage vows, not applicable to us.  The Mt of the Beatitudes was nearby, that sermon is a favorite of mine.  We also went to the River Jordan where you can be re-baptised, it was pretty commercialized.

But in a quieter area I dipped my hand in the river and took my favorite picture of the river with a bull rush in the middle.  The picture will be framed to hang in the sewing room.

We left the tour and stayed on the outskirts of Tiberius in the old home of a past director of the YMCA in Tiberius.  Our room was high on the bank overlooking the Sea of Galilee.  The views were spectacular and it touched my heart to be in the place Jesus lived.  I must admit the nature in and around Galilee was a more spiritual experience for me as opposed to the grand churches in Jerusalem.  We had planned to walk part of the Jesus Trail and you might think 10 days would me enough time but it wasn't.  Anyway probably couldn't have walked far.

Now on to Jordan!

KATE

Georgian Jokes: Mikho and Maro

Mikho and Maro are an imaginary married couple from Georgia's Kakheti region.  Every Georgian "knows" Mikho and Maro. Mikho and Maro jokes are part of the Georgian culture. They are often ribald.

After the wedding night

The morning after their wedding night, Maro awakened slowly. She rubbed the sleep out of eyes, looked out the window, and said: "Vy may, even your yard is too small!"
 

How do I look?

Maro stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself. She asked Mikho, "How do I look?"
Mikho said, "Don't worry, my love, it'll be dark soon."

What??

After a night of drinking, Mikho stood in front of the mirror. He looked and looked and looked deeply into the mirror.

Maro walked by and said, "Mikho! What are you doing?"

He shouted with relief, "Mikho! That's what it is!"

Mikho's Mother-in-Law

Mikho's mother-in-law says to Mickho: "You are such a bad person. Why does my daughter love you"?

Mikho replies, "May I take off my trousers"? 




Send me your Mikho and Maro jokes!


   

Security: The Name of the Enemy is Complacency

My laptop has an application that allows me to encrypt documents. I can only open an encrypted document with a password or a swipe of my finger.

Since I supposedly know that all systems fail, I maintained a back-up of a particular encrypted document - in an unencrypted form - elsewhere. Except I got complacent and didn't continue to update the document in its unencrypted form. An important distinction, this. Because I do have an automatic back-up of said document in its protected form.

But what happens when the encryption application goes to hell? Right. Can't access the document that's sitting right there, ready to be opened. Doesn't matter that I've got its encrypted clone sitting prettily on a cloud.

So now, because the magic key isn't working, I've got to recreate the most recent version of the doc.

Security's supposed to protect my stuff from other people, not from me.

Lesson learned, finally? Hopefully.

Tbilisi: The Tbilisi Tragedy

9 April memorial in Tbilisi, Georgia. Parliament building on Rustaveli.

9 April marked the Tbilisi Tragedy.

People left flowers in front of the Parliament building above and at the memorial below.

9 April memorial. Rustaveli Avenue, Tbilisi, Georgia.

The Black Sea, Part 5: The Train to Tbilisi

Batumi-Tbilisi train car.

It was a full moon.

Sandy and I had splurged on a two-bed train cabin. We'd bought late-night dinner fixin's.

We each put our pillows at the end of our beds by the door, stretched out, and we could see the big ol' full moon roll with us on the train. It was nice.

I loved the sound and the feel of the train. I put my pajamas on, made my "bed," popped some music into my ears and was good. Sandy didn't fare quite as well in the sleeping comfort department, but did enjoy the view of the moon.

 Batumi-Tbilisi train cabin

As far as the rest of our train experience goes, there were some issues:

• Jeez, no air in the cabin - it was really stuffy at intervals and too warm. We opened the door occasionally to get in some air. 
• The toilet was not in very good shape. Also, there were no instructions on how to use the faucet - you had to push up on a nozzle at the tip of the faucet for water to come out. Doh. 
• The debarking side of the Tbilisi train station was in post-World War II reconstruction-era-before-the-reconstruction-began kind of shape. And we passengers had to climb down into and then up out of a dark, dank, rather treacherous tunnel. 

Overall, it was not a 40-lari per person experience.

But that assessment doesn't take one bit away from the pleasure of traveling with that full moon while reclining full length to the rocking of the train.

The Black Sea, Part 4: Batumi

Batumi, Georgia. Lada and ludi.

I wasn't all that excited about going to Batumi. It was more of an "I should go there since I'm in Georgia" kind of thing. I had the impression it was the kind of touristy place big on nightclubs and Las Vegas-y kitsch. Not generally my preference.

But since we were going to Ureki, and then decided to hit Kobuleti, Sandy and I thought, why not? Sandy had already been and it wasn't her favorite place, but she was kind enough to accompany me.

Well, damn. I was pleasantly surprised at Batumi.

Batumi, Georgia - a plaza

Yeah, yeah, there was an arid beachside boardwalk, some so-so fountains, an odd, not-very-attractive tower sort of thing with a ball on top, and polished plazas a little too much like what one finds at upscale, American shopping gallerias. The statue with Medea holding up the golden fleece as if it were a jacket left behind by one of the kids.

Batumi ,Georgia - Medea and Golden Fleece

But I loved the pretty side streets. The architecture reminded me quite a lot of New Orleans' French Quarter, actually, with wide and deep second-story verandas, mixed in with a Playa del Carmen pastel palette.

Batumi, Georgia.

Batumi, Georgia.

Batumi, Georgia.

The botanical garden was a large sanctuary of natural shade, greenery, and vivid flowers.

Batumi, Georgia.

When we finished purchasing Batumi-Tbilisi tickets at the train station, we boarded a marshrutka standing by. Didn't know where it was going other than to somewhere in Batumi.

In fact, we had the good luck to pass through the back-end of Batumi, where we saw an intimidating array of oil or gas storage silos, the large local bazaar, and a school no different from what we had in Rustavi and Gori. And lo, we saw lots of bustle around the Cathedral of the Mother of God, a large church that would look at home in, say, Transylvania at night with trembling thunder and lightning strikes that illuminated the dark statue of Mary.  Beautiful, but in an eerie way.

Cathedral of the Mother of God. Batumi, Georgia.

Cathedral of the Mother of God. Batumi, Georgia.

It was the orthodox Palm Sunday, the Bazoba Sunday, as it's called here. Many vendors selling the leafed twigs from a certain shrub. Vendors selling natural dyes for the Orthodox Easter eggs. One dye source is the traditional one from the sap of a specific shrub. Another source is, I think, beet and other things that are soaked into sawdust. For both, one boils the eggs in the water with these twigs or sawdust.

Egg dyeing. Batumi, Georgia. Outside the Cathedral of the Mother of God.

The traditional orthodox Easter egg is a burgundy red. Looks like a color from the richest ancient tapestry.

Batumi, Georgia. Orthodox Palm Sunday (Bazoba), Cathedral of the Mother of God.

We looked inside the church.

 And looked outside.

 

We walked toward the beach and entered the botanical garden. Nice. We sat on a bench for quite a long while and people-watched and enjoyed the coolness of the shade, and when that got too chilly, moved over to a sunny spot and enjoyed the warmth of the sun. A bride and groom came through with their entourage and had photos taken.

Batumi, Georgia.

Getting kinda hungry now, so we made our way toward a Ukrainian restaurant Sandy had visited when she was here before. She ordered a stew sort of dish and was dismayed to see it covered in beloved Georgian mayonnaise. I ordered the fish recommended to me by a Georgian, only to learn it wasn't available at an affordable price, so I went with the red mullet and a boiled potato.

Batumi, Georgia.

Huh. Nely has served me this before and hers was just as good if not better.

We nipped next over to a little coffee shop called the Press Cafe. Signage referring to the WC as the "yellow press" warranted only a weak smile.

Batumi, Georgia. Press Cafe.

We commenced to more Batumi wandering.




I was in search of something, but damned if I can remember what it was. Something to do with a knife .... anyway, we trotted back over to the proles' neck of the woods, a ways from the tourist section. Sandy took a rest with our bags on a store stoop while I went to visit each little shop. I found a Goodwill store (read: Georgian Walmart) and invested some time of my life I'll never get back again, all for naught. The Goodwills here have a lot of stuff, but never seem to have what I'm looking for.

But I did see these sights:

Mercury Hotel, Batumi, Georgia.

Fish eyes, Batumi, Georgia.

Tobacco, Batumi, Georgia.

We'd had a good day. 

At about 10:00 p.m., we went to the train station for our overnight trip back to Tbilisi.

This was going to be fun.

Georgia: The Earring

I got together with a group of TLG colleagues in Tbilisi awhile back.

We vented about living with host families, school problems, poor customer service, sex discrimination, the winter cold, the dearth of showering opportunities ... the usual expat bitching.

On my way home to Rustavi, I climbed aboard a packed marshrutka, lucking into the very last space. It was a pull-down seat almost smack against the sliding door. As I squished my backpack into the space between me and the seat in front of me, I heard a tinkling metallic sound to my right. Something had fallen. Within my tight quarters, I did a body and pack check --  keys? coins? what? Oh, I thought, as I put my hand to my right ear, an earring fell off.

It had fallen onto the running board alongside the marshrutka's sliding passenger door. I could barely see it if I carefully looked down on my right, as if peering into a narrow crevasse. Damn it.

As I contemplated retrieval strategies, a man behind me called out gamicheret, indicating the driver should stop the marshrutka. I slid open the door and prepared to stand up, close my jumpseat, then step out of the van to allow room for the man to get off the vehicle. But he motioned to me to stay put.

While 20 cramped humans waited in silence, the man reached down, picked up my earring, and handed it to me.

And we took off again for Rustavi.

Georgia.  So exasperating at times, and so charming.

Kate (and Pam) on the Loose, Part 8: Jerusalem

My good friends, Kate and Pam, were in Jerusalem and Jordan before coming to Georgia. Kate started as a solo adventuress in Egypt. Now she is meeting up with Pam. From Kate's journal:


Ah sweet Jerusalem!  Jerusalem has several quarters - Jewish, Muslim, Christian and Armenian.

The Lutheran Guesthouse was located in the Armenian section near the Jaffa Gate.

The old city within the ancient walls is made up of a labyrinth of cobblestone walk ways lined with merchants and their wares.  By the end of our four days we had figured out how to get from A to B.  The rest of the time we guessed or were lost.  But isn't aimless rambling the point of an adventure.

On our first morning we took the free tour offered by the Tourist Office.  He gave lots of history and tried to orient us, I was totally confused.  We did go to a small out of the way section of the Temple Wall and tucked a piece of paper with our prayer in a crack.

In the afternoon we went to the Dome of the Rock Mosque.  It is set on the top of a hill with a large garden and courtyard and of course the dome is covered in gold.

We of course went to the Western Wall of the Temple on Friday night and peeked through the wall separating the men from the women and watched the men sing and dance to usher in the Sabbath.  On the women's side it was lovely to see everyone dressed up with their children.  They would pray for awhile and then hurry home to prepare the Sabbath meal.  We also went to Vad Yeshem, the Holocaust Memorial. We spent four hours and it was one of the highlights.

The Church of the Sepulchre is very large and beautiful.  It is supervised by the Roman Catholics, the Greek Orthodox, the Coptic Church, and the Ethiopian Church.  While we were in the church the Roman Catholics had a procession to the Sepulchre, beautiful robes, incense, and magnificent organ music.  All the churches take turns worshiping at the Sepulchre.  The Ethiopian monks have been relegated to the roof of the church. Everywhere there is a pecking order.  I bought several crucifixes and laid them on the large stone designated as the place Jesus' body was  prepared for burial.

It was a special experience being in Jerusalem during Palm Sunday and the beginning of Holy Week.  The Saturday before Palm Sunday a procession of Roman Catholic monks led a procession through the streets.  They were led by a man carrying a large staff and striking the cobble stone very loudly.  At another time the same day, Muslim men with their prayer carpets had spilled out of a crowded Mosque and were praying in the narrow street.  So many faiths in this holy city.

A large part of the allure of Jerusalem is the energy. Everyone bustling off to pray or do some work.  It is jarring to see young people in uniform or not, carrying guns, on the other hand a group of handsome young soldiers posed with tourists for pictures.  Security was high because of Passover and Easter.  I felt very safe.

There is a large German church, Redeemer, it was founded by Kaiser Wilhelmina around 1850.  On Saturday night before Palm Sunday we went to a concert performed by 28 young women.  The church is all stone, excellent acoustics, and beautiful voices.  Then went back on Palm Sunday for an 1 1/2 services in German.  It is worship all the same.  The pastor's 3yr son got away from his mother during Communion and proceeded to cavort around the altar the entire time.

Our accommodations at the Lutheran Guesthouse were very good.  We definitely had some stars. A big German/Arabic breakfast was included.  The German part was cold cuts and cheese.  The Middle Eastern part was hummus, olives, and pita.  We also had a meal of street food that cost $30, they saw us coming. When I questioned the price he said it was FRESH lamb, must have been a prized pet.  Oh well live and learn, ask the price before ordering.  Our last night in Jerusalem we found the Armenian tavern, a cozy quaint place with great homemade soup and good price.

KATE

The Black Sea, Part 3: Road to Batumi

Batumi, Georgia

Sandy and I climbed aboard the marshrutka in Kobuleti for the final leg of our little Black Sea resort tour.

I took this video en route. Mind the cows.

As is our tradition, we overshot the train station (where we wanted to buy our overnight return tickets before exploring the city), so had to backtrack. Unfortunately, there are no storage lockers for baggage at the train station, so we had to lug our packs all around town.

We chose to buy first class tickets, meaning we went for a two-person sleeper at 40 lari each (~ $24) instead of a four-person sleeper at 23 lari each (~ $14). Ouch, that hurt.

Ok, so that settled, off we went to poke around Batumi! It was a little after noon and we had til 10:00 p.m. to check it out.

The Black Sea, Part 2: Kobuleti

Kobuleti sunset. Georgia. 

Easy, pleasant marshrutka ride from Ureki to Kobuleti. As we entered Kobuleti, I admired the wooded ribbon that separated the main road from the beach. Shade. I like it.

Kobuleti, Georgia.

As is often the case, we got off the marshrutka past the point where we should have. We got off in the town center, which is not by the beach. So while we considered our next steps, as in "We're in Kobuleti, now what," we each had an ice cream bar. Georgians love ice cream and they've got good stuff.

We tried to find a bench on which to sit while we ate our ice cream while looking at the snow-topped mountains, but we were unsuccessful, so we settled for the concrete lip of a storefront. Eventually, we got up, crossed the street, flagged down a marshrutka, and got off at the beachy side of town.

Kobuleti, Georgia. View from hotel.

Walked over by the water, took a look at a hotel room, took a pass at the price, walked to the next hotel, looked at the room, and sealed the deal at 50 lari for a two-room suite with a very large balcony overlooking the Black Sea.

Kobuleti, Georgia. View from hotel.

It was relaxing to sit on the balcony and contemplate ... nothing. No visual clutter to stop the eye. Just the blank slate of the sea.

Kobuleti, Georgia. View from hotel.

We went for a walk around town. Picked up some dinner-picnic items to eat on the balcony.

Saw a spectacular sunset. A swollen red sun.

Kobuleti, Georgia. Sunset.

An uneventful sleep. Got up the next morning, had dinner leftovers and coffee and tea out on the balcony. More enjoyment of nothingness.

Presently, we gathered our things, went out to the main street, and a road construction worker helped us get a marshrutka to Batumi. At the local price.

The Black Sea, Part 1: Ureki

Ureki, Georgia. Black Sea.

A three-day weekend! Sandy and I made plans to go to the Black Sea.

First up, Ureki. This village is known for its black sand, which allegedly has magnetic properties. In fact, the village's other name is Magnetiti. Georgians bring their children here to promote healthy bones. The elderly believe the sand is helpful for their arthritis.

A TLG colleague who's based in Ureki laid out our options to get from Tbilisi to Ureki. We chose to take the train from Tbilisi to Poti, then a marshrutka from Poti to Ureki. Sandy bought the rail tickets the day before we left; 15 lari for each of us.

Train from Tbilisi to Poti, Georgia.

Five-hour trip; not bad. We'd brought a picnic breakfast and lunch: Georgian sausage, sulguni cheese, carrot sticks, orange slices, fresh bread, and the ubiquitous bag o' snacking bruschetta. I also brought a thermos of coffee.

Decent WC on train. Tbilisi to Poti, Georgia.

There were two WCs in our car. One was better than the other. It wasn't bad at all. The other, when I got a glimpse of it, was a little grim.

Poti, Georgia.

We arrived in Poti without any mishap other than to wonder where to find a marshrutka. But some helpful police set us in the right direction.

WC at Wissol gas station outside Ureki, Georgia

About half an hour later - not even that, really - we got off the marshrutka (cost = 1.5 lari, but this likely inflated for our benefit) at a clearing in the road. We'd gone past the entrance to Ureki awhile back, so we'd need to walk back a little ways. Fortunately, we got off in front of a Wissol gas station, which had a cheery apple-green WC. And two cheery Wissol employees who smiled and waved and asked where we were headed.






After taking care of business, we crossed the street and began walking to Ureki on the narrow road that paralleled the arterial road. To our right, between the two roads, we heard extremely loud squawking and chirping and even a third sound. What could they be? Ducks and small birds and ...... they were frogs. Sandy and I picked our way through a treacherous bit of grass and mud - that suck-your-shoes-off kind of mud - to get to the shallow, seasonal ponds, covered with water plants and agog with frogs on the make.

It was the coolest thing.

We continued our walk and saw on our left a pretty tree with vermilion buds. A man across the lane, gardening, came over and told us in basic English that the buds would soon open. He mentioned our TLG colleague's name (the one who helped us plan our transport here), saying he was a "good boy" (kargi bichi). Then he went to another tree with large red blooms and cut us a large bouquet.

We walked and walked and walked.

Presently, we arrived at the beach of black sand. I am sad to report it was filled with the litter of past visitors, but I'm assuming this will be picked up before the tourist season begins. Most of the markets and cafe were still closed for the winter.
 

Ureki, Georgia.

There was a very pretty wooded lane.

Ureki, Georgia.

 There were many large guesthouses.














We took of our shoes and walked in the Black Sea. It was deliciously cold. It felt so good. We gathered black sand in plastic bags to take home with us. They were heavy.

So. Now on to Kobuleti. We flagged down what we thought was a marshrutka, only to discover it was a private vehicle. Never mind. The driver took us back up to the Wissol gas station, where our friendly buddies there greeted us with smiles. In short order, we picked up a real marshrutka to Kobuleti. Our Wissol guys waved and blew us a kiss goodbye.

 

Tbilisi: Dry Bridge

Tbilisi, Georgia. Dry Bridge.

There is a place near the River Mtkvari in Tbilisi called the Dry Bridge. It's in old Tbilisi. Here, sellers display traditional felt crafts, paintings, pottery, new and old jewelry, electronics minutia, old military medals, photos, books, swords, cutlery, gold and silver. Antique Georgian rugs. Plastic dolls. Bearskins.

There are ghosts and memories here.

Tbilisi, Georgia. Dry Bridge.

Tbilisi, Georgia. Dry Bridge.

Tbilisi, Georgia. Dry Bridge.

Tbilisi, Georgia. Dry Bridge.

 

Tbilisi, Georgia. Dry Bridge.

Tbilisi, Georgia. Dry Bridge.

Tbilisi, Georgia. Dry Bridge.

I saw a group of men and women milling about over on one side of the bridge (that goes over the main riverside road, hence the word "dry"). Most wore black, which though not unusual in Georgia, took on a more meaningful air with all of this deliberate milling-aboutness going on. Had to go take a look, so walked over, and saw something even more curious. Some of the individuals wore small, handwritten signs hanging around their necks. Others held similar signage in their hands, displayed for passers-by to see. Some sort of religious sect? Doomsday-ists?

I was able to check it out with an English speaker.  Who'd have thought? The individuals were people who had property to sell or rent and people who wanted to buy or rent.

Tbilisi, Georgia. Dry Bridge. Property transactions.

Tbilisi: Marjanishvili

Marjanishvili is a neighborhood in Tbilisi. It's been undergoing renovation like so much of Georgia.

Tbilisi, Georgia. Marjanishvili.

There's a metro station here. A McDonald's. Several guesthouses or hostels. Numerous tiny fruit and vegetable markets. A Russian Orthodox church. Small, human-scale lanes.

Tbilisi, Georgia. Marjanishvili neighborhood.

Irina's in Marjanishvili. Tbilisi, Georgia.

A few weeks ago, Sandy and I spent Saturday night at Irina's Guesthouse. The hostel takes up a portion of this building - a two-level, maze-like place with many bathrooms, two kitchens, and an assortment of rooms filled with beds and antique furniture. Irina owns the apartment; I think the apartment has belonged to her family since her childhood.

Irina's in Marjanishvili. Tbilisi, Georgia.

Sandy and I enjoyed the exclusive use of a four-bed dormer. We met a trio of Swiss cyclists who've been wheeling around Eurasia since September or October. A Korean family was also in residence; parents and two or three young'ns.

Irina's in Marjanishvili. Tbilisi, Georgia.

Sandy had this intriguing, and a little creepy, sight from her bed.

Chucky? 

Irina's in Marjanishvili. Tbilisi, Georgia.

Cozy kitchen upstairs.

Russian Orthodox Church in Marjanishvili. Tbilisi, Georgia.

 
We went into the Russian Orthodox Church, a breath of artistic fresh air, outside the Georgian Orthodox design norm.

Russian Orthodox Church in Marjanishvili. Tbilisi, Georgia.

This weekend was a milestone in the Lenten season, so there were many worshipers entering the church, sharing or receiving food, lighting candles, getting blessings.

Tbilisi, Georgia. Marjanishvili. Russian Orthodox Church.