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 2: Sataplia Cave

Kutaisi, Georgia. Sataplia cave reserve.

Also known as Sataflia Cave.

It was a funny thing - just before we went to Kutaisi, we got some negativish reviews on Sataplia Cave. After Sandy, Marie, Kathy and I toured Promete Cave earlier in the afternoon, I asked the group if they wanted to just take a pass on Sataplia, if Promete Cave had filled us up with cave-ness.

Marie and Kathy allowed as how they'd had their fill of caves, and when I asked Sandy what she thought, she said that, actually, she still wanted to check out Sataplia Cave. The four of us agreed that we'd all go to Sataplia, and while Sandy and I toured the cave, Marie and Kathy would enjoy a drink at the cafe on the cave campus.

So George ferried us from Promete Cave to Sataplia, where we encountered a crowd of kids. Yikes! This called for an ice cream.


We figured out where each of us needed to go - Kathy and Marie to the cafe and Sandy and I to the cave. Sandy and I got hustled in with the group of kids, alas.

Kutaisi, Georgia. Sataplia cave reserve.

An unexpected and pleasant surprise: To get to the cave entrance, we walked through the prettiest woods. This walk included going by animatronic dinosaurs. Kitschy but fun. I bet the little'uns love 'em. I liked how they were insinuated into the woods.

Kutaisi, Georgia. Sataplia cave reserve.

Just before we entered the cave, we passed along the bluff with beautiful vistas.

The cave itself - after seeing Promete's dazzling splendor - Sataplia was more staid. But it was a cave with enormous rooms. Pleasant. Sandy and I scooted around the kids' group and walked ahead and it wasn't long before we experienced blissful silence.

At Promete, I liked how they spaced groups out by 20 minutes. We had also encountered a group of students there, but the four of us were kept back and allotted our own guide. A better system. 

We emerged from the cave near the restaurant. Beautiful! It was designed to integrate with the wooded surroundings - lots of glass and concrete, simulated wood beams. Two (maybe three) levels. Huge terrace. Well done. Sandy and I hooked back up with Kathy and Marie there.

On the way toward the park exit, we saw a reproduction of a  dinosaur skeleton.

Kutaisi, Sataplia Cave reserve. Photo courtesy: Sandy.

And then a guide pointed us onto a path where there was a glass walk that jutted out over the bluff. Again  - the woods so pretty! Adjacent to the glass walk was an almost-completed indoor-outdoor cafe with stellar views. Modern white and glass decor.










Some views from the glass walk:

Kutaisi, Georgia. Sataplia cave reserve.

Kutaisi, Georgia. Sataplia cave reserve. View of Georgia's new parliament building - the bubble.

Kutaisi, Georgia. Sataplia cave reserve.

Tired, but feeling satisfied that we'd achieved our mission, we headed back to Kutaisi, where George dropped us off at the Mirzaani microbrewery and restaurant by the river.

We had a table on the 2nd floor balcony overlooking the water.

A good day.

The Universe Is Talking to Me

.... and it's a bit of a nag.

In less than a week:

I lost my internet. I regained my internet.
I lost it again. I regained it again. 
I left my camera at a restaurant. I found my camera.
I left my wallet at a market. I found it there.

Ra ginda, universe? What do you want?

Rustavi: Cheesecake and Spit

Yes, it's true.

At the new Madagoni in Rustavi.

If you try it, let me know how it is.

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:

Kazbegi

Road to Kazbegi. Georgia.

TLG offered an excursion (free!) to Kazbegi, and Sandy and I jumped on that offer.

We and 20 or so other TLGers met at the Radisson Blu in Tbilisi and we took off in the TLG minibus. It was nice to reconnect with some interesting colleagues I'd only met once or twice before and also to meet some new folks. It was another opportunity to appreciate the originality of the people who come to Georgia to teach.

I'll skip over the side trip to a certain historic church (zzzzzz) and go to the road to Kazbegi, now reverted to its original name Stepantsminda, which means St. Stephen's Mountain.

There is a village named Kazbegi and a mountain named Kazbegi (well, Stepantsminda). But what many souls climb is the mountain that has the church on top, which is what our little group did.

Kazbegi, Georgia.

Well, I climbed halfway up.

The good thing was that at my slower pace, I had the pleasure of a solo hike walking as fast or as slow as I wished. It was nice.

Kazbegi, Georgia.

At one point, I was reminded of my hike in the Bale Mountains, Ethiopia  - not because the scenery was all that similar, but there was something about the lay of the land. Made me think of that battle of the bulls in a pasture far below.

Kazbegi, Georgia.

There were fairly long stretches where I was entirely alone. Other times, I intersected with other hikers coming at the mountain from different angles.

Kazbegi, Georgia.

On my way back down, I spied a shepherd and his flock in the woods.

Kazbegi, Georgia.

I attempted a wilderpee in a pretty forest copse, only to be foiled by oncoming hikers. So I scrambled myself together and took a photo instead.

Kazbegi, Georgia.

 My favorite part of coming back down - the dancing Georgian!




And full slide show of Kazbegi photos here:




So I eventually made my way back to the village, in search of a toilet. Walked across the main drag to a cafe, and through the window, I saw a movement. It was Walter and Tom, two of the excursion mates, waving to me. Wah!? How was this possible? I knew from Sandy's telephone report that the rest of the group were still atop the church mountain, so ... did these guys not do the climb or what?

No! They had slid/run down the mountain, via one of the straight-shot paths, in about 15 minutes! Incredible. They were each drinking a beer and awaiting their order of khinkali.

The rest of the group didn't arrive til about 45 minutes later.

Sleepy ride home.

Georgia: The Tutebi are Here

Rustavi, Georgia. White tuta (mulberry)

There are black tutas and white tutas. In the plural, they are tutebi.

Mulberries! Beloved here. They do taste good.


The black tutas have peaked, I think, and all that I found at one tree were those which had fallen onto the ground.

Rustavi, Georgia. Black tuta (mulberry)

I had a mulberry tree in Missouri, but never saw any fruit. Evidently, it was a male, therefore fruitless.

Rustavi, Georgia. White tuta (mulberry)

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.

Colors of Rustavi

Colors of Rustavi, Red 1. Georgia.

This series is a work in progress.

Rustavi is a city of color. Old Rustavi in watercolors, New Rustavi in acrylic.

The slide show below.

Letters From Matt, #9: Haramachi, Japan: Fire 'n Ice

Letters From Matt are letters from my brother, Matt, from various of his domestic and international travels. The letters span decades, and I share them on Living Rootless at intervals, in no particular order. 

December 1990

Haramachi (now part of Minamisoma), Japan

Dear Family, 

 

 

…. There are many paradoxes in Japan. One of which I am experiencing this moment. The Japanese are more efficient than Americans when it comes to cars, hot water, and home heating. For instance, the average home does not have a gigantic hot water heater that is constantly keeping large amounts of water at 160 degrees. Rather, they have a very small gas-powered water heater that turns on only when you need the water for a bath. I must heat water on the stove to clean my dishes. Nobody I know ever uses hot water for washing clothes. And it is not unusual to see a solar water heater on top of the house. 

The winter is cold here and yet very few houses have a furnace. Most houses are very cold inside, but they have something called a "kotatsu." It's an electric heater that fits under the dinner table. A blanket is fit between the table top and the kotatsu so that it drapes on the floor trapping all the heat under the table. I am sitting on the straw mat floor this instant with the blanket over my lap and my feet toasty warm under the table. The rest of the apt. is cold. This is the Japanese way. 

Not only does it save tons of energy, but it undoubtedly keeps the family closer together. 

Here's the paradox. 

THERE'S NO INSULATION. NONE. IN THE WHOLE DAMN HOUSE!

So on one hand they are very miserly with generating heat but on the other hand, none of it stays inside the house. 

SO I'M FREEZING! except for my feet, which are burning hot. 

Oh well, I guess every culture has its idiosyncrasies, certainly including our own. 

Matt

 

Georgia: Classic Pose

These Georgian boys will stand in one of these three postures for the next 60 years. I like it.

Tbilisi, Georgia

Rustavi: Life and Death

Rustavi, Georgia. Electric shock warning.

Rustavi, Georgia. My hostess' flower on her porch.

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 6: Mestia, Subpart B

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia.

The yin

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia.

Along our walk, Sandy was attracted to a pretty heifer grazing on an incline above the river that goes through town. The heifer was attracted to us, too, ambling up to the fence for a meet and greet. While Sandy, Sparrow, and I attempted to get some good photos of the cow and the river below her, a woman emerged from the shack at the edge of this tilted pasture. She gestured for us to come over by the shack, where I assumed she was inviting us to a spot with a better perspective (because Georgians do such nice things). But no, she gestured us into the shack and .... damn ..... there was a room out back of the shack with one wall exposed to the river vista. There was a table and chairs. The shack was actually a tiny cafe.

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia.

We immediately ordered coffee or tea and just enjoyed the heck out of a stupendous view from our hidden perch.




 

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia.

The yang

Trash.

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia.

Outhouse over the mountain spring. Efficient. 

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia.

Daily life stuff

It's spring and farmers use cattle to prepare their gardens. 

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia.

A boy sits in a truck.

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia.

Towers

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia. Tower undergoing restoration.

 Mestia is known for its towers. Families built them as protection against marauding enemies, who were sometimes neighbors. Svans have a reputation similar to that of the mountain folk in the U.S., a la Hatfields and McCoys.
 

Mestia, Svanet, Georgia. Towers.

Eventually, I spun back to the guesthouse to see what Kate was up to, while Sandy and Sparrow proceeded to check out the towers at closer view. They were supremely fortunate to run into the daughter of a tower family, who gave them a personal tower of her family's tower. Sandy and Sparrow reported it was pretty damn scary at times climbing up ladders that had seen much better days. They felt triumphant when they emerged onto the tower roof.  With permission, here are some of their photos:

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia. Tower climb. Courtesy of Sandy and Sparrow.

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia. Tower climb. Courtesy of Sandy and Sparrow.

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia. Tower climb. Courtesy of Sandy and Sparrow.

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia. Tower climb. Courtesy of Sandy and Sparrow.

Mestia, Svaneti, Georgia. Tower climb. Courtesy of Sandy and Sparrow.

  

Sandy and Sparrow found it hilarious that while they were feeling nervous about the climb up, the family daughter was practically sprinting up the ladders with one hand while texting in the other.

Night time walk

Eventually we all reconvened, had dinner, then went out for a night-time walk. We'd hoped for a glimpse of the full moon as it was to be the largest for the year. Unfortunately, clouds obscured the view.

For the next day

For Sunday, we planned a hike somewhere before Sandy, Kate, and I had to be at the Mestia airport for our return to Tbilisi.

Poor Sparrow's plan was to get up super-early to get the only public marshrutka from Mestia to Zugdidi - at 5:30 in the morning, for God's sake. Cost for this marshrutka was something like 15 lari - versus 10x that amount for a chartered marshrutka. Crazy, but that's how it works there.

... to be continued