Goodbye Borjomi, Goodbye mi friend!

This is the end. As always there is an end. So from my side this end was yesterday. Yesterday I went away from Borjomi, in the fronteer I had to pay 20 dollars. Fucking capitalismus! So in that boarder, instead of have also the prices in the currencies of the boarder too there is only in dollars?? puag. Anyway, I give 40 lari, where I could have give 25, because I had the two options of money. But no, as always I don't think. The bank man looked at me nice, because he would not give me any lari back or equivallent for the extra money I'm sure I payed. So after running in the rain twice, because of having to put visa to say goodbye to Georgia and visa to say hello to Turkey, thinking on when I cross my beloved bridge over the Rhin between Germany and France like nothing and here with nationalists flags of the same colour and tall metal fences, we entered the new country. I changed churches for moschees in the landscape, but the flag was still present every where.

Why do we need flags to know where we are? I know I'm in the world, the rest I don't care. Then from 9 in Borjomi till 7 in Istanbul I only heared Bony M and Greek traditional music. So please, Greek people, stay away from me for a while or I'll bite you, jejeje. I ended quite far from the center, but I didn't wanted to take a taxi, I found a shopping center where only the guard was open and let me get some money from cash withdrawal. Then a man with a bus, who only speaked turkis said he take me to the metro station but he stopped at the end of street, making endless questions that I could not responde. So I apologized, went out and found a woman with her dog. He resulted to be another spelled sepharad descendant. And I ended in a taxi to the Sultanhamet neighbourghood.

The agressivity of the Marschrutka drivers

We went in the morning to the botanical garden, which has a nice waterfall. It looked to me like beeing in Italy again and they even had Pinsapos, an special tree from Spain. Then we went to a big lake to have some bath, where Stefania was kind of disturbed by a young guy which first words where: I don't like piercings in the girls (who asked you for opinion, turd?)And we saw what I would like to call the "Religion-stargate cube". A massive cube telling the religious story of georgian on the top of a hill (or that seemed to me, but I didn't research more about it), which could be the christian version of the famous interconnect portal of the Stargate film. Then when comming back to our "homestay". A man came inside the Marschrutka, say something to the conductor and this got so angry that wanted to spell the man from his out by kicking his face when he was already laying half outside of the car, after the previous punching and neck-graving fight. We where all shocked, I thought, what can possibly say a man in 3 seconds that leads to this gratuite demostration of violence? coming back at the place, the hosters learned from our lonely planet book, that they could ask 30 lari to the next buch of tourists instead of 20, like they did to us. What they don't seemed to realize is that you need an improvement on your bed and sofa, not window, fool of ugly&scary dolls, not to mention there was almost no blanked room. But they where nice persons to stay at.

Queen Tamar-ta of Sakartvelo.

We got up really early, arround 6, well I sleep a couple of minutes more by Gio the ranger and Omart where destroyed, after having party with local shepperds the night before. But we had a long journey for us. We came up to the shepers place where they had a truck fool of goat cheese and there where like 10 dogs. Then we continued and ended at another shepher's house, where I was the only woman amoung 10 guys, except for the russian poster of britney spears hanging on the door. I though, yeah, somehow realistic that britney had the remote idea to cross this paramount through one day. Well we cook some of the mushroms delicatessen, the ones that are the most difficult to find in their opinion I guess and some fried cheese. But they just through all kind of rubish direct after their table on the front door, which for me was like to say. Come on, I know here up you cannot take a recycling track, but still some autos reach hear, why don't you just accumulate it somewhere together so that you don't have to see this shit every meal. But they seemed not to be disturbed from that views, even when the further views, where the ones of gorgeous mountains. We left and they gave me the rest of the mushrooms in a plastic bag, which whe had to hang from my bag even when it was pouring oil. Then I had to throw away my bag twice, to save some terrain level, so the mushrooms passed to a happier life in the middle of the meadows. We saw some frog eggs, that looked like tschurtschela to me (tschurtschela is something traditional here, basically nuts covered with some cooled grape juice like caramel). Some other shepherd gave the ranger a pair of homemade nunchaco. I wondered why possibly you need that in the middle of nowhere, maybe for beating "kung foo panda" And then we entered a place where the brown bears like to eat framboises, there where rests of their digestion every 10 meters. Also some archeological founds, about how the Georgians used to put the wine. In the museum we read that they re-used some burials for that, so I was wandered if that could be the case. Then I falled inside the river why crossing it with my big bag, so we had a bunch of laughts. I called myself queen tamar, cause that day it was really nice to see, how they where all concerned about what I should learn, like the names of trees and they gave me flowers, so I ended with a bunch of things in hand. Last but not the least, I saw my first live viper. I like snakes, but seeing how difficult was to differencite her from the stone, made me thing I should mind my steps more next time I trek around. We ended pushing the car, till the petrol station. They wanted me to stay seat in the auto, cause as a woman I should not do such an effort. But I gained the sex battle, jumped out of the car and share a funny moment of running after a lada niva.

“Te quiero puta” (ramstein) or 2 days trekking in Abastumani... by Marta

So after sleeping 4 hours I met Tango. Who happened to be with two friends, one of them called Omart, his girlfriend lives in Madrid, cause she plays the violin and works for the church. Another called Nikos, but I’m not sure after 2 days about his name. It started as always with the Marschrutka driver, after assisting to a punching action in Tblisi, here the man started to shout every second because of the trank door. In Abastumani, a really nice place, cosy with Rusian style houses, old sanatoriums and a hollywood style name at the top of the hill, we met Gio the ranger, who will be our helper for the GPS action. I was alone there with four georgian boys, the nightmare of every mother for its daughter?. Indeed it was great, we spend the whole way up stopping for little rest, which make it not so difficult and I learn a couple of new mushroms that are eatable and I found even the spanish ones (by that I mean the only ones I'm able to find myself, hear they are called fox-mushrooms). And after a big bag of mushroms we found the place to sleep, the hut, from where you could see the Abastumani observatory and where I was tried to be invited constantly to a "chota, chota" chacha, which I regreted one after another. Then one only know the words of "te quiero puta" from rammstein of Spanish, so we constantly said that and even called people so that I could tell them bad boys in georgian (Ajurebo). Anyway, as 3 of them were "drunked young guys without girlfriends" it was inevitable that they wanted to give a "try-o" to see if they could get something from me, by trying to blink their eyes at every possible eye-contact. But this time no church proposal arouse. By the way, the so called toillets here (vamos lo que el comun de los mortales denomina letrinas) are a hole in the ground and that want didn't had door, which is the best view you can have at some signaled events that take place inside them hehehe.

A short Visit to the cementery by Marta

After resting a little from coming from Tblisi, my neighbourg Zura called me for a walk. We met a pair of friends of him, with a Lada and they asked if we wanted to go to the local church and afterwards to the Park. First in the church, we almost parked inside, although it was a really tiny place. And they introduced me to a couple local ways of behaving, like that woman should enter after man or that they cross different and what means the fingers by crossing. We came to visit the grave of the father of the guy. It was almost dark, so it is impresive to see how beautiful the moonshadow in cementery was. Then we came to the big wheel, all with the auto and afterwards to the rollercoaster and the pirate ship. Yeah, I bet hear people could take the auto to the toilet too. The attractions are though really primitive and sound as if they where about to broke. I watched a film from Guillermo del Toro when I came back home:Devil's backbone.

Linda: country of marriage-craze

Yesterday Marta sat down with her notebook to write the annals of our Georgian stay history- this time on the topic "How many times we have received marriage (or other less decent) proposals up to now". After an hour or so of intense recalling we ended up with a list of 26 (!) cases. All that in just two months. A lot of choice, ain't it!

All that despite our age that shocks most of Georgians (so much! can't be! and not married!), despite the fact that I am vegetarian , and we're not drinking wine (so what do you do in restaurant then?), have starnge religous views (flying spaghetti monster church mixed with buddhist)don't want any children yet (most women have children very early here), like to travel around alone (and not stay at home to serve the husband) and will never perceive all my husbands wishes as coming from God!

Linda: Top of the pops with Sikvaruli modis!

This is the one that makes Marta and me break out in a dance in the middle of a street, in park, on bridge- anywhere we happen to be walking- singing out loudly "sikvaruli modis, sikvaruli shndeba, sikvaruli arahotesh tamtarteba daaaaaa" !!!!

This is the one that we spent hours on trying to learn and even understand lyrics.

This is the one that hightens our mood and therefore is being exploited at our home.

This is the one that we hear in marshrurtkas on different routes.

This is the one- Sikvaruli modis by Nino Chkheidze! :)

Linda: Surprisingly cheesy Georgia

A dirt-road village, of which I even do not know the name, somewhere near the border of Armenia hosts a metal container in some magical way brought here from France. And that container contains fully equipped French cheese factory, with Camambert and Roquefort ripening on shelves in neat rows.

This is in Georgia, where during these two months I have found no other cheese as simple salty and sour home-made cheese and a bit tastier sulguni or smoked variety of sulguni.

I asked the cheese master- is there any demand for these cheeses in Georgia? Yes, some people, who live in Tbilisi and Batumi.

The cheese masters some time ago had decided that to make their own business in Georgia, they need to learn the skills, so they borrowed money from all friends and neighbours who had at least some and invested it in going to France and working for a cheese factory there. In the factory they kept their eyes and ears open and in a year had mastered the trade and made contacts with equipment suppliers. Bought the container with good credit terms and brought it to Georgia. The first cheeses are getting ripe on shelves, but debt is still larger than any income generated. Their hope- the change of cheese prefferences of affluent Tbilisians.

I was generously given a present of this rotten cheese, and must say- truly enjoyed it!

By the way, I have a song of your age by Marta

Yes, the tipical order of questioning here:
1.How old are you?
2. Are you married?
3. So my (son, nephew, cousin's son, neighbourg, backer...) is your age.
Hehehe, I was inside the Post office and an armenian worker wanted that I meet tomorrow his son. So many "painful" years (except for the last 2)of not being loved and the solution was as easy as coming to Georgia. Better than in other places where they would like to buyme for camels or goats. I preffer being given "gifts" hehehe. Poor guy, his father don't mind his opinion, he wants to liiert him with the first stranger that comes his way hehehe. Anyway, I just thank it and tried to say that probly he has a nice son, but I'm I didn't come here for any deal, but for write a report (yuuhuuu!)

In Ushguli, UNESCO heritage's highest inhabited european town by Marta

I rent a Jeep with a girl from eslovaquia, who currently works at Brussels european commision, her boyfriend from czesch rep. and some hungarian guy. This jeep was a Lada Niva, so it was quite strech inside. And because of the road quality, you needed 3h for 65 km, up in one of the most remote parts of the caucasus. This towers in the town are amazing, and we went till the very base of the glacier, with a couple of imponent white mountains upon us. It was a tiring day but delightful. It seemed that there would be no free plane on Monday, but insted some cheap 25 Laris on Tuesday. It is too late so I decide to departure tomorrow at 5am. Ihad to say goodbye to my 2 nights, no english speakers but great understandings family. Irina, the mother and teacher of the town, invited me to some Matsoni(yogurt) and the father, who is also teacher and ingeneer, was amussed trying to find a Spanish channel on the satellite. Again the question of that the Basque Region people are Iberians rised up. I still don't know where I missed my history lessons, wheren the iberians not suposed to live near the mediterranean see? well it was really beautiful to see all those towers iluminated at the evening against the dark shape of tall mountains.

bathing in the river by Marta

I was yesterday in the river. I meet dito there. he has saw me now a great place to go and have a bath, so I will use it the rest of the stay here.

I saw a death snake by Marta

Yesterday Linda left to Tblisi and me and the two swiss friends went to see a lake, it was a great lake with nebel, it was like been in Sweden. We saw a death snake, black one, and I still trying to find out which sneak is this.

lazy day ends even lazier by marta

Today it rained. We went to the office, but with the boys from Swiss here we came back earlier, cause they promised again to cook for us. And then after vardzia we were all in the mood of just reading and laying. pretty good. At the evening I decided to explor the up town, cause I want to know more the city. It endet up when I saw a man, over the bridge, walking with his two asian sepherd dogs chatting with his friend. That could be nothing out of the blue if it weren't for a big detail. they were driving in the auto. So I thought, pretty much lazy endeed.

The Jehova witnessess are like mushroms by Marta

they appear where you less wait for them to be there. I was walking today to see the door of Sakashwilli summer palace, formerly used by stalin and the Romanov family. Where to nice mid-agged woman, came to me and said hello and showed me a book. I tried to scape, saying I don't understand although I could well recognized this poor ink impression that characterices those books. But it would not be so easly, they had one book more to show, where you could pick up your language this time. the only thing that they wanted although was to know my name and to present themselves, so I could continue with my matutine stroll.

If Sunday it is the day of the lord, what are we doing at the office by Marta

Don't worry, although some people work on Sunday here, we are just pushing further our blog to keep you fresh with our latest news. I was today in the Waterpark, because I decided not to spoil a marvelous sunnyday being in the internet. So I went to the so called termal bad, which ended to something similar to a green radiactive pond where many people where overloading the carry capacity of the place. At least the river was next to it, so I decided to have a bath there, though the pond it was so how sentimentally related to me, cause at my mothers Home town, we have kind of similar thing in bigger size. A what a memories of childhood, drinking some water from that river was risking 2 days of several diahorrea that it somehow skipped a couple of years. Even one year someone had the great idea of letting open the cleanning above the river so we could see how the place turned from green into deep brown. I miss going there to bath dough. WEll after my 3 km excursion not having it on the whole day I decided to ad one hachapuri more to my stomach when Dito called, because he was at the office with Linda and they kind of asked themselves where I was, due to I said linda I would be there in a couple of ours, but I used my spanish-georgian joker and it turned out to be 5 hours. At least I have ended with the balkan management paper. I cheated somehow, cause I skip a couple of pages but shhh, don't tell Linda, hehehe. Well I realized today by reading his blog that the american guy james was here for a couple of days while we were in the mountains, what a pity!

Home sweet Home by Marta

Today we got up and it was cleanning day, well before cleaning that linda took more seriously than me, I went to the shop and as sometimes my saviour german/georgorwellian book was sleeping at home a little bit more, so armed with my 3 numbers ori(2), chuti(5) and schwiteri?(7) I came inside different shops and buyed tomatoes, potatoes and toilette paper (I’m so getting used to this recycled carecing touch on my bottom that I even choosed to buy it in a store where there were only two left of this type and the others where normal) after always not beeing sure of how many laris should I get in return? Then back home, cleaning, bla, bla... I decided to go for water to the place after the big ruinous soviet building and when I was passing through the “bus hangar” then there mouth clatching american was there, wasn’t he suposed to be already out of town 2 days ago? How many days can this guy sleep at the train station? Well I just barely say good travel because he had a food almost in his already runing “marschrutka”. Coming back from the fountain, Artur was on the information place so I came to say hello, there was a couple of Schottisch people. Later on I show polnish ones and we introduced ourselves to them. I tried to continue the blog on the information shelter, but Artur was downloading classical music from Lisz. Not my day to “robbery” his internet so we came to the internet cafe where after a couple of hours I get nervous of how many time I spend there and not beeing jumping outside in the park. The bad issue was the somehow confusing news about russian troops starting to “touch me the member”(for spanish people) or to say it normal to be forcing the situation (or maybe are the georgian ones? I don’t now) but let’s see tomorrow. The old woman in the internet cafe is great, we have long chats without words, cause I don’t understand what she says but I find her really amusing. I forgot my glases so I had to do the same way twice. I came to the didi moedani, or the way how I tried to explain main square, but insted of one and a half hours, we had spend 3h in internet, so there was no trace of the polnish bunch. Then I thought in the minutes that would take linda to come up and meet me, I could buy me an ice cream to find out that linda had come up with the same thought. Sometimes I see this funny connections but not all the times I say Linda, cause then I enjoy them without sounding that that’s not true. Linda wanted to go home, but I’m more in my sauce being outside on warm summer nights so I decided to drove myself to the park, to see if I found the polnish people or dito, but all the kiosks in the park are yellow and I’m quite shy sometimes so I just tried to spot from the way. Seeing nothing I decided to go first further to the waterpark and enjoy the delightful situaltion of the people sitting outside. But when I was a couple of meters away from the entrance something exploded and that half of the city was dark. It remembered me how funny it was in a summer party years ago in spain when it happened the same and there was many people in party mood outside. And as you feel really safe in this place at night I decided to come back home on the darkness, just to look by that jesus (or his representant in the earth put in form of two iluminated crosses on the top of the hill) was having light and I instantly sarcastically thought “yeah, god lights my way”. At least not the whole city was dark, that was why the cross where still iluminated, cause I thought it would have being funny that they put more effort not to loosing the light of god, than to loosing the light of the people. Linda read me what we where doing on the eleventh so I got this mood of writing backwards what I remember.

Nothing better to do after a shoutting evening than drinking chacha for breakfast by Marta

After what it should be the last awful and woody sleeping night, because, who decided it is a great idea to sleep on a wood bench!! We got up and there was fire, already made by Jaba. When we where eating the mixture of pasta and fish with Sneackers and chicken soup for the breakfast (yes, riete de los desayunos con bacon) this peculiar yogi hunter came (hecho un pincel) clean after the night of alarm shooting, like always left his wife at home, maybe because as Dito confessed us later, he didn’t wanted the guys to fuck her, they could but fuck us instead?? So the Chacha (homemade vodka) ritual started even before 10h. I asked myself, that is even better that the people drinking Carajillos (cafe with a shot), cause they at least wait till 12h in Spain. In one of this Tamada tost, he tosted on us not to forget him. And I sarcastly commented Linda, that he should not worry to having a place on my memory, but that I would really prefer to put him on a place on my oblivion. Because remember is good but forget is sometimes even better. So we went down the hill, it was hot, so I take my t-shirt off, put my sun glassed and decided that no hungry or tiredness should bother me, cause the sooner down the better to eat. We made some photos with Jaba’s camera, cause my camera was tired of working from the scout camp. Sometimes makes strange things. Linda was our guide but as the others where the ones who knew well the area, they let her always get extraviate when the marks where not fitting her path with a malicious but sane laught in their faces as they used the silent sign of putting the index in front of their mouths to tell me I should not disturb their games, by loyaly giving advice to her that she was out of the way. In a point of the way, Dito, which really enjoys being (un cabroncete) as funny as the guy from “home and alone” when the robers are supposed to be back at his place, put as all out of the path to let Linda go. I tried to complain saying I have a contract owing my loyality to her and that she would not return but sit somewhere in the way and wait, as the previous days, so the situation ended on being funny of me. Because first he said, “shh, she comes” I tried to push myself against the hill not to be seen and after a minute the tree of them where laughting at me, then he was explaining we should be quiet and started to through me water, so I could not shout back and they where laughing again. Of course I took my little revenge throwing them water back. In the top of the mountain before, we had heard strange exploding noises, like the ones when throwing fireworks at popular events, but they tell that was arm training. It frightents me out a little, cause I’ve never heard an army training. Down, we become that after 5 days of a shortage of cleanniness, we will be the special gests on the local business meeting from the park.(yeah, I yo con estos pelos) So we came there and there was eaters paradise, after five days of porridge, I didn’t knew if I should start from the cake or from the chinkali. I think my stomach didn’t know it either and all that ended with me feeling dizzy in the toilette. But after doubting to take another UZARA shot, because I so I had half run out of the bottle, not being even on my first month, we where safe at home.

Linda: continuing to build cultural bridges with weapon-loving locals

The night was cool up here- felt my feet getting cold, but was too lazy to get up and look for socks, so continued my strange yoga-dreams of doing gomukh asana. 

Jaba’s alarm rang at 6:00, but did not disturb anybody’s sleep much. Eventually I got up first and went out for toilet- had a choice of a open-air pit toilet open to observation from the hut by missing one wall and the privacy offered by knee-high leafy plants wet with morning dew. 
Watched the sun rising behind clouds tainting them pink.

Marta woke up with desperate cry: “Oh, I am so cold! Linda, put your sleeping bag over me!” My argument that she has to get up anyway did not work, so I wrapped her in the warmth of two sleeping bags and went to fetch water together with Dito freezing our hands in the icy stream. 

We were ready to go after breakfast 7:00 + Georgian factor = around 9:00. Walking and marking was extremely slow- making the marks is a damn hard work especially here high up on the ridges in the howling wind. By observing the marking process and reviewing the left marks, I am still sure that Marta and me and in fact any hiker, who would come here for the first time, would lose the trail anyway. The team was lacking resources for proper marking- they can carry only limited amount of wooden poles and planks and on spot there are no materials useful for leaving marks available- no trees, no stones, just alpine meadows. Nevertheless the path itself was wonderful- through green meadows rich with flowers of all colours- orange, yellow, violet, white, pink. At moments felt unconditional happiness taking me over. Is happiness real only when shared? Then why does it visit me mostly at my solitude with nature? Nothing else ever makes me as happy.

We were singing a lot while walking- each to themselves- in our mother tongues (Dito preferring “we don’t need no education…”) and all together joining in our first Georgian song: “Chrvelo pepelo, caprindi nela, delia auranuli…”.

Started to admire Dito- he was the only one really putting effort in the work of marking and everything he did, he did with care and precision, not leaving anything unfinished and overall he is a most pleasant company with loads of positive energy, although he enjoyed making fun on behalf of us- I found it healthy to have a laugh about ourselves.

Finished marking the trail just above Amarati shelter and were looking for a place to settle for lunch when were met by another inhabitant of the park- shepherd nicknamed Krazana (Mosquito). He brought us some bread and khachapuri and never without it- home-made wine. Our lunch was prolonged by Jaba dutifully taking up the responsibility of park staff to maintain good relations with other park stakeholders and soon getting drunk, while we were layzily lying around in the sun and wind. It was soon obvious that a storm is coming, so the decision was easy- no Atskuri today- we’ll spend one more night in the park at Amarati shelter.

Krazana invited us to his summer home, where he currently lives with his wife- a mud floored wooden hut decorated by pages of Soviet fashion magazine pages from 70s in one room and cigarette block packaging in the other. Krazana’s wife Ljuba was a cute 20 year old girl- 15 years younger than him, from my point of view treated like a slave in this solitary hut of primitive conditions. Krazana boasted to be the ruler of the house and claimed that any work he utters is like an order from God to his wife. I did not interviene or express my diassproval of such an abuse of a woman, as i had no chance to find out how she feels about it or what are the conditions behind their marriage. Marta being more idealistic in her heart bluntly ignored the man and tried to communicate with the girl with short phrases in Georgian. I had sat down on Krazanas bed and at a point was told that I am actually sitting on a shotgun, which is under the blanket, but it is OK for me to continue sitting on it. The fiest of playing cards, eating fried potaoes and drinking wine and cha-cha with lengthy toasts, as always and singing stretched to 4 hours and included all the aray of traditional Georgian toasts: to God, to Georgia, to all the good people, to guests, to all the people that miss us, to all the people, whom we miss, on families and mothers and brothers and sisters and children, on our deceased ancestors, on the beauty of nature, on us getting married etc. 

Finally we were freed to go to the tourist hut, where Dito rushed to chop firewood and Marta delighted in clean toilet “you could eat in that toilet!”, which actually had all walls and a door. Soon heavy rain started so we moved indoors and had a rock-pop-reggea singing evening and when Jaba and Geo came as well- a Georgian language lesson by drunk Jaba.Tried to close the glassless windows letting in gusts of wind carying lots of water along with plastic bags and tape and chose to occupy more dry upper bunks for sleeping. 

Our peace was soon disturbed by loud banging on the door and yelling. Krazana. Marta went to open the door that had been blocked by a chair to keep it from slamming in the wind and was met by this sight: mighty storm raging, Krazana in his raincoat completely soaked with a huge fire in the background (later he explained, that he needed to add “some” wood to our fire, beauce he had needed light) and holding his gun. That did cause some distress in Marta, but Krazana ignored her and came in the hut filling all room with the heavy smell of alcohol and started conversing with Dito. Dito endured the conversation with grace and Krazana left to continue with his strategy of random shooting in the dark to scare wolves and bears away from his herd disoriented by the storm and thick fog. The alternative tool at his disposal was a huge metal bell, used for the same purpose of keeping wild animals away. So we had this concert of howling storm, gunshots and bell-ringing to which jaba added his part of juicy snorring. Try sleeping.
The situation began to seem hilariously absurd to me so I just couldn’t stop laughing while Dito kept singing Bob Marley songs and Geo whistled to the rhythm of Jaba’s snore.

At Qvabisnevi hut by Marta

In the Morning when we started walking, we weren’t sure if the guys had passed us or not. Afterwards, while being on the top of the hill Linda got Ditos sms saying they had a broken auto and that they would be at the hut at nine, but it was 8 and we where far from the hut by now. I’m feeling well but each time that we go up for a while remembers me how good would be to do continous exercise everyday and not try to go climbing Everest after taking part on a wedding fest. I should learn how to breath better.Ok, the views where stounishing but unfortunatelly the way to see mount Elbrus was covered from fog. At the end of our path, in the hut where some man, we now wanted to be together before meeting mountain mans that start with their chacha rituals and then ask us about our childrens, but those where waiting for Jaba, even there was one ranger, whinch is not an impediment here somehow to be the first with hang over in the morning. And this one was in a mourninfull mood. They say we should drink. We had already told (tropocientas veces) many times that we don’t drink, but this time I thought I wanted to laught a little about this chacha traditions without being really understood that I was laughting, so I came with the following funny tost by searching through the book: “sometimes it rains, sometimes it snows, at what time it is breakfast?” unfortunatelly, they where to drunk to appreciate my poetry or even I was not able to pronounce many ch an k together, so it was not understood and we let it go. Linda and I had much fun though about this japanish tost and we’ve decided to try to learn it by heart for some future tost oportunities (como diria el gañan: “a veces los de la ciudad venis al pueblo y pensais como que hablamos raro y a lo mejor os llevais una ostieja”). Dito, Giorgi and Jaba, appeared after two, while we were still deciding if we should do all the way down as planned or go with the men, not knowing if it would be another digit bunch when drunk. But it turned out that we where all in the mood to stay longer at the hut. Dito took a horse and offered me to ride a little, which I accepted, even after the previous strange experience cause I somehow trusted him more and cause I never have opportunity of being in a horse at home. Then I was offered to be on one horse myself and I had this two man wandering up and down the hill to take me with the horse. The last way was again funny but on the verge of doubt, cause the man took me a little further, and I was kind of trying to tell him it is further enought. But he wanted to tell me that all the cows there where his, and that he lived down there, and I was thinking, should I give you a pride for having cow or what. We turned back and the rest from the evening was just laught and eat and going to sleep. I had my legs full from mosquito bites, which is really annoying.

Linda: peaks, Japanese style toast and happy reunion

At 5:00 in the morning we were still alone in the hut. Marta was not eager to get up, I decided to practice my meager fire-starting skills with surprisingly good results. The breakfast of oatmeal porridge and condensed milk came out delicious and mint tea from the meadow as well. We purely enjoyed this perfect morning in mountains. Just before putting my backpack on, went to pee and realized that my menses have started unexpectedly, none of us having brought any female hygiene products with us. Ironically remembered GE activity on mooncup by our fellow glennies. Had to manage all the rest of the trek with what was available in my backpack. Girls, before you go to mountains try at least one day of menses without tampons or panty-liners and not much possibility to wash :).

At around 8:30 came to Mt. Rkinis Jvari and both went up to its extremely windy peak at 2439m decorated by a cross to delight in the view of immense sea of clouds below us with dark mountain ridges swimming in it and there received a message from Dito- one of the park guides with Jaba, that they could not come to Qvabiskevi previous day, as their car had broken down and they would meet us there at 9:00. There was no use turning back anymore so we decided to continue forward and hope that they will catch us at some point.

It was the most perfect trail today- of the kind that I like the most- traversing mountain ridges always staying high with constant panoramic views all around- west expanses of mountainous reality. 

Just before 12:00 came to Mt. Sametskvareo (the highest peak of the park) ranger shelter, just below a peak and found a park ranger, two locals, a boy and 3 puppy dogs there with their horses and cows. I had the impulse to stay at the hut at the first sight already- the location suited me perfectly and despite warnings that there is no water near this hut, there was plenty of it streaming down an ice/snow patch still not melted. The party at the hut turned out to be waiting for Jaba’ s group as well- were supposed to provide them with horses and were expecting them to arrive at around 14:00 so we sat down to eat and wait as well, weighting arguments for and against staying there for the night in our heads.

Shortly afterwards we were invited to join a table of food and of course- wine and cha-cha. exercised our alcohol refusing skills once more and when asked to toast, with the help of Marta’s phrase book came to this Japanese style universal toast in Georgian saying ”Sometimes it rains, sometimes it snows. What time is breakfast?”. Soon our long awaited party of three- Jaba, Dito, and Georgij (Geo) arrived and brought a lot of laughter, good mood, good music and fresh hazelnuts- just off the tree with them. We became very lively enjoying their company and telling our hiking adventure stories. It was decided- we stay here for the night.

I went to wash in the snow-melt stream and covered myself up just in time Dito appeared riding a horse. Marta was following him at slower pace, her horse being led by one of the locals. 

The Moldavian park ranger had had his norm of promiles and had started crying and decided to go back to Amarati despite his duty to help the trail- marking team. So the team was left without his help and without a horse, which was planned to be there to carry luggage and marking materials.

Before going to bed, decided to start early next morning and make all the way back to Atskuri the next day to end the trek on planned time.