8/16/14

For my last full day in Tbilisi, I spent a pleasant morning and afternoon simply wandering around. I first found a park and sat their a while, before going and looking at the baths and the mosque. There was not actually that much to do and I found myself somewhat bored--of course it was possible to go to more churches but if you've seen one you've seen them all, unless church art and architecture is your thing. I did wander into the museum of musical instruments, which at 3 lari could hardly be called disappointing, though its three smallish rooms were fairly modest.  There were some particularly nice examples of instruments preserved there. After that, grabbed some lunch at the KGB restaurant in the touristy section of the old town--it wasn't cheap and there wasn't much food, but overall it wasn't bad and I was also trying really hard to save my remaining funds for the evening. After that I went to the art museum right off of Freedom Square--since there are several art museums and maps/guidebooks show them in conflicting places, this is the one nearest to the tourist office, not on Rustaveli. There, after some chaos at the entrance, I joined a tour which was led by a very nice tour guide who was clearly very passionate about her work. Though it's the standard collection of mostly icons and jewelry, her exciting narrative made things more interesting and she allowed substantial opportunities to ask questions. It was the best tour I went on.

After that, I went and hiked up to the Nariqala Fortress in the late afternoon. Despite the strenuousness of the hike, the distance was rather short and at the top I found myself facing a church. I heard what sounded like recorded music being played inside, and there were a number of people milling about so I went in. Turns out, they were having a service and the music was live--the acoustics were absurdly good. It was really interesting to watch the service--nothing like in America, there are no pews and people just sort of stand around. Luckily, it seemed like you could come and go, which, since the services last several hours, was good. I left after about 10 minutes to go explore the rest of the fortress. There are several ruins in various states of preservation and decay, and I climbed to the highest one with the cross on top. There's no real path here, just some trails people have made climbing it. On the other hand, it's not specifically marked as off limits, and it does have a nice view. The trail is safe but be very cautious as there are some places where a fall would likely put you in the hospital, if not the morgue. I would also recommend, since it is a historical site, to be very careful about respecting the fortress when you are there and not disturbing the remaining parts. If you do go up, be a better person than I was and take some trash away on your way down (I was in too much of a hurry).

The Town

The fortress

I got back down and met up with friends for dinner at some tourist restaurant downtown which served Georgian food. It was nice enough for such a place, and the khachapuri was pretty good. I'm a bigtime khachapuri fan now. Also churchela, those little grape-gummy-with-walnuts-rope-candy are pretty good too. But I digress. After that we went to drink wine and chacha at the little bar/café in an old streetcar called. It was called Konka, and they had some live music which was pleasant. Chacha was far from being the backwoods hooch I had expected it to be from all I had heard from guidebooks and other travelers, so it was a bit disappointing in that regard. But it was still definitely very high octane, and had a decent taste that made it a good way to get sloshed quick, if that's what you were trying to do. It's also dirt cheap. After that, I went up a few levels in classiness and had a white and a red semi-sweet wine, followed by a dry red. This last one I talked our friend, Olga, into buying me because she had requested I play piano after I brought up my ability at some point. The bar had a piano inside, and so true to the deal I played it. The thing had the most dampened sound I have ever heard--it was like shouting into a pillow, only with a piano--but that also worked to my advantage when I made mistakes, since the sound was quiet and fairly slushy. That being said, true responsibility lies with the musician, and it was far from unplayable, if quiet. I managed a decent job on Tiny Dancer, and actually got through Your Song (had to reset halfway through, and missed one repeat) for a change, which was nice. And I naturally finished with Linus and Lucy. So this was a great Omega to the Alpha of my journey when I played piano in the bar my first night in Baku.

The next day I got up at 2 AM and left.

Overall, the Caucasus are a wonderful place to visit, because they offer so much beneath the surface if you're willing to put in the leg work. History, natural beauty, and great people are all commonplace here. You won't be force fed attractions like you might be in other parts of the world, but you'll feel more confident and have a better grip on the meaning of things after you've hopped a dozen marshrutkas, bargained the same amount of taxi-drivers, and asked twenty people for directions to some random museum. You'll get lost, but you'll learn to deal with it and function in this chaotic place. One of the main impressions I had was that there was a system here, but that I just wasn't privy to it yet. The interpersonal interactions, the transportation chaos, the routes to various places, these are all clearly well known by locals and functional on some different level which it was impossible for me to experience. But flailing along beside the system as I did only made me appreciate it more, that things don't utterly collapse. Whatever is holding these places together is obviously quite strong, and it's worth going just to see that, even if you don't understand it. And with that, I'm done editorializing. Go to the Caucasus if you like challenge, adventure, and learning--about great cultures and great people, but also about yourself.

8/3/14

I'm going to skip the crap and go straight to the heart of the matter--at about 9 AM the next day, August 2nd, I found myself standing on a platform on the Azeri border wearing my pajama shorts, a t-shirt, shoes, and socks with my 3 pieces of luggage surrounding me. The only other people there were a taxi driver, called after I tried to do my best "but I won't know where to go/what to do", and a soldier. This would be a hilarious picture, surely, but not one I would have the chance to get. I took a long last glance at the train as I walked across this deserted platform in some armpit town in this boondocks region of this unheralded country. Surely that family who I had so well befriended was now watching. Though I had about 3 seconds to explain that it was a stupid mistake on my part, I doubt that tempered the humiliation much. I got in the taxi (a Zhiguli) and we took off through the countryside, where people herded sheep on the shoulder and left their horses tied up on the side of the road. We had to drive around piles of crap in the middle of the lane. A classic experience, I guess. Anyway, without going into too much detail: the Baku-Tbilisi train crosses into Georgia at 9 in the morning, AND YOUR VISA MUST APPLY FOR THAT DAY AS WELL. I thought I could get away with it expiring the day earlier because I was on my way out, and clearly had no intent to  leave the train. I was wrong, and it was a $500/5 hour mistake. I did make it to Tbilisi, which was a beautiful city, though I could have given the Azeri cab driver who drove me from the border directions myself since he was clueless. Sometimes with taxi drivers it is better to just tell them yourselves since otherwise they'll just drive over town asking random people for vague directions, and there are often multiple places with the same name (Caspian Hotel) or similar names or they'll put you at the wrong end of a street or a different street with a similar name. Anyway, I made it, and spent most of my time just unwinding and calming down. The people at Hostel Home 12 were very nice and actually showed me personally where the metro was and were overall super helpful. I got platskart tickets and spent the rest of the afternoon getting a hold on my finances and sitting in a park to relax (there was a statue of Reagan there--if they like Americans this much, I'm going to like them). 

I got on the train to Yerevan that night--without having changed, because why bother, platskart is smelly and hot and I might as well save a pair of clothes to wear--my next place had wash. I met some slovakian backpackers and after talking for a while I tried to get a quick nap in before the border. Oh, and I left my passport sitting on my bunk when I changed, and when I came back the provodnik and my compartment mates were like "don't do that" so that was awkward. We hit the border about 45 minutes later and  I got woken up and immediately went to follow the train personnel; I didn't bother to put on any proper clothes so I was there again in my shoes, socks, pajama shorts, and the same, now fairly dank, t-shirt. The train stopped, and we got off--me and this Japanese dude. Apparently the EU people either didn't need visas or they had already gotten them. The process was super simple and  quick and  we were back on the  train before too long.  I took a picture of me in my bunk to celebrate this momentous occasion of not being threatened with the option of paying fines or getting deported. Also, as you can see the window openings are generous, which would have been awesome if I was opposite the direction of travel. As it were, I got a few chances to stick my head out the window for cool fresh air and whatever asbestos-laced radioactive dust the train kicked up. FYI: visas, which are made for you on site, are $8--not $7 like they say online. They of course take greenbacks and there are exchange places all over Tbilisi.

The unbridled joy of not being thrown off the train

I got up at 6:30, and  got on my still-nasty jeans and sat around waiting to arrive. Someone had pulled the vinyl curtain over the window during the night, I had noticed, and then compounded their rudeness with idiocy by pulling it so far down I couldn't get it back over the hinged section that was hanging down. Of course all the interesting infrastructure was on that side. I took a vacant seat on the other and watched the sun rise over the mountains. We got to the station and after getting a cab to the hostel--I tried really hard to argue this dude and saved like $2.50 in the end but it turned out it was a $10 ride so that means something, right? I got to the hostel and realized I was too early by a mile for check in and so there were no rooms, so I sat in the common area and didn't take a nap and ate free breakfast and surfed the olde internet. Then, I went out exploring. Yerevan is interesting in that it is not new oil wealth or extremely old like Baku, or extremely old and unique like Tbilisi--it basically has the feel of a mid-sized Soviet city that has only seen minor renovation. That being said, it's got a lot of great culture, and I got to see a pile of interesting architechture. The monument to 50 Years of Soviet Armenia was, true to form, decaying, and the park next to it was haired over as promised in the lonely planet. That's why Yerevan reminded me of a lot of Soviet cities--relatively new stuff that was designed for some grand purpose was falling apart, it's like the redneck front yard of urban development. The stuff was never good to start with and ages worse. Although it was kind of a cool half-ruined, half-active area. The war museum was cool and had some great party-line verbage, something like "Of aggress the attack did come, unprovoked. This defense was possible only with weapons in hand. Many squad volunteers of motherland did defend, though met defeat with enemy's superior firepower. Here the 12 martyrs of fighting." I also ran into the random slovakians again. Of note: the war museum is housed in the base of a statue called "Mother Armenia", who looks like she is ready to deliver a sound smiting upon various and sundry enemies with her giant stone sword.

Looks like she could hold her own in a game of Mortal Kombat or something

After that I hiked back down the major staircase and asked some soldier who was walking to take my picture; he obliged and I got a smile out of him. A lot of people make a big deal out of not acting like a tourist, and at times I find this advantageous but at other times who cares because it's really about doing what you want. It's your vacation, and as long as you're not being rude/getting in the way it's fine. After that, I rode the metro, which is really crappy here--there is a single not-well-planned line and their traffic levels merit 2 cars every 5 minutes on platforms built for full-length (8?) trains. So been there done that. You don't get metro cards, you get little plastic chips. Also, word to the wise on Armenian money: prepare yourself for a lot of change. My wallet is literally starting to burst now between the georgian lari and armenian drams and the writing looks so similar I have trouble distinguishing them. Best to prepare yourself for mad coinage somehow; get a bigger wallet maybe. And keep your currencies separate (could be awkward if I tried to pay with Azeri manat here…if you haven't figured it out the two countries are at each other's throats half the time and Armenia occupies about 16% of Azerbaijan). I remember loads of change being a problem in Russia as well. Also it's good to have change because you look like a tool (as I already have) trying to buy a 350 dram soda with a 20000 note. Prices are not particularly cheap or great here--sit down dinner of just under $10, and a $4.80 thing of brandy--which tasted slightly of fruit somehow and tickled the sides of my tongue. We're not in Kentucky anymore. Also worth noting--the service at restaurants is not like America. Once  they've gotten your order/delivered your food, waiters don't come to you. If you need anything, make eye contact and wait until they acknowledge. This should save you from sitting in an outdoor café while a rainstorm bears down because you're not sure if the guy is bringing a beer or not (he wasn't--this was the one spot I think his Russian may have been worse than mine). Anyway, it's all good and I'm back in the hostel. Looks like a full day tomorrow. Oh, and I've showered (at 6 PM) and am wearing fresh clothes, so that's all good now.  

Yerevan

Thanks random soldier guy

Feel more art.

8/15/14

Did not get to see the depot in Kutaisi--the manager wasn't there. I did see the historical museum, which while quite modest, still had some nice artifacts including a small icon that apparently contained a piece of a dress Mary wore while pregnant and a giant icon that was in some saint's vision.

The train ride to Tbilisi was generally pleasant, except for when people kept trying to shut the windows. At Rioni station where we connected with the main train, people started shutting the windows without explanation. Some random passenger came to ask me to close mine, saying something about a "conditioner" (presumably AC). I obliged, less because I thought the still stifling car had air conditioning than to just play nicely. Of course, it would have been more intelligent to shut the windows after we were sure it was working, but for some reason people failed to comprehend this. Obviously, it quickly became extremely toasty, and after so long I couldn't put up with other people's idiocy causing me to percolate in my own sweat (I had already tried to open my window again, only to be told no by some dude who looked like he was in the mafia) so I went to try to explain to the  conductor. I began explaining, and when I gestured to the obviously not working (the car didn't even have electricity) AC, one of the other guys helpfully explained (through the english-speaking lady who was interpreting) that if it was, it would knock me over. That was really helpful, and eventually I wound up standing across from the bathroom next to the one still open window while everyone presumably died of heat exhaustion because they were too stupid to realize that the AC was not working nor would it and that opening a window would provide some relief. It's really frustrating when you command of a language is insufficient to explain to people that they're needlessly slow-roasting an entire train car because it somehow hasn't dawned on them as temperatures easily notch 95 degrees that there is no way in hell, i.e. the train car, that the AC is working. Luckily for me, they finally saw the light and reopened the rest of the windows and I could return to my seat. Of course, they were shut again an hour from Tbilisi but at that point I could bear it out.

The journey itself is quite nice, passing through some beautiful mountain scenery and along a river through a gorge. The train needed some helpers, which was quite surprising. Other than nearly getting toasted alive, it was a nice ride, and only cost 8 lari. 

River gorge

Tbilisi was nice; I finally tried some tasty if messy Khinkali at a restaurant on Freedom Square--I forget the name, I think it was "Georgian Cuisine". The next day I went to Gori in the morning on the Marshrutka, which left Didube bus station at 10:45. These are fairly frequent. I visited the Stalin Museum and while I resent everything he did, it was interesting. As our guide put it, it was a museum in a museum--the first layer is the Soviets' museum to Stalin, and then the second layer of museum is the modern effort to preserve how the Soviets presented Stalin, with all their propaganda and historical revisionism. He did have a nice train carriage. It wasn't an awesome museum; the tour was fairly basic and it only took 45 minutes, but it is worth seeing if only to reflect on what a terrible person he was. The one redeeming anecdote, if you could even call it that, related to the capturing of his son by the Germans--he (Stalin) refused a prisoner's exchange with Von Paulus because he said he wouldn't be able to answer to all the other fathers whose sons wouldn't be ransomed. His son died in captivity.

Eerie

Not exactly proletarian in decor

I took a taxi from Gori back to the bus station in Tbilisi. It cost m 30 lari, though the cab driver wanted to charge 50. He could speak some english, and after I categorically rejected 50 lari he asked what I thought the fair price is, so I said 30. He started at 40, and went down to 35. Since I was being cheap, I told him that marshrutkas were so much cheaper that I'd rather take them and started walking away. At this point, he conceded the full offer and I went for 30. So I finally got a reasonably good deal by being stubborn and acting decisive with what I wanted to do, even though I myself wasn't fully sure how I was going to make the Marshrutka back, had I chosen that.

After that, I went to the Museum of the Soviet Occupation. Though it only takes up one large room, it's fairly well done with some basic english explanations. However, it is definitely worth it to pay for the guided tour. We got a tour guide who had actually participated in a bunch of the revolts she spoke about, and though she was like all the other guides in talking too fast and not leaving time for questions, she was very interesting. She also hated the communists. It turns out the Georgians have a long history of rebelling against the Russians, with revolts in the 20s, 50s, 70s, and late 80s. Of course, it's not heard of as much because it's not mainland Europe like Berlin, Budapest, and Prague were but it's interesting nonetheless to hear that such large revolts happened even in the Soviet republics.

Freight car filled with Georgian prisoners that was riddled with machine gun fire (presumably in the October Revolution or a subsequent pre-WWII revolt)

For dinner, myself and a few friends went to the restaurant at the top of the funicular, which was good if a bit expensive. The view is obviously excellent and there are some paths nearby, one of which leads to a nice secluded spot on the backside with views to the outskirts and the mountains. That  was nice as well.

Overview

TV tower

8/13/14

I finally got out of Mestia after sorting out my cash troubles. In summary, my thoughts on Mestia are the following: it is worth 2 full days for the two main hikes, and maybe a third or just a half day for the town itself. It may also be worth a further day or two for a one or two day trip to Ushguli, but since I didn't go I can't speak to that. After about 3 full days in Mestia you will probably run out of things to do. However, it is worth saying that another virtue of Mestia is just relaxing in such a beautiful and quiet setting, so not having a ton of things to do is not necessarily bad. Another consideration is that Mestia makes an excellent base for some longer hikes that include camping, such as Ushguli or Koruldi lakes, which can be turned into a two day affair if you want. There are also many more trails in the area, all certainly gorgeous in the high alpine scenery, and with proper camping equipment and good wilderness preparedness I imagine you can make Mestia an even more spectacular adventure. Overall, it's a nice town in a beautiful location that is worth a few days' stay--longer if you come well-equipped and well-prepared for serious hiking.

My hosts were also very gracious and helpful, and I would recommend them to anyone looking to stay in the area. Georgi knows about all the marshrutkas, as well as extreme sports like skiing and mountain biking and has good advice on these things. Feride speaks excellent english and can tell you about the plane schedules as well. Note: despite various contrary evidence online, there are several flights to Mestia from Tbilisi, and they are quite cheap--around 65 GEL. Anyway, their information is:

Georgi and Ferida

Mikheil Khergiani St. 28

Phone: 995-596-10-05-12

The meals are also excellent, and the facilities very nice.

I left town on the last Marshrutka of the day to Zugdidi--it left at 11:00. Some days, they apparently run to Kutaisi, but this was not one of those days and I needed to get out so I grabbed the last spot on the last marschrutka out of town. This spot turned out to be a stool in the aisle of the overcrowded Ford Transit, which was of course lovely on the windy mountain road, but the driver was more moderate this time and I was terrified on fewer occasions. I did have to hold on to the seats on either side of me for stability though, which became an awkward introduction to my neighbors.

It took 3 hours to reach Zugdidi, where we directly connected with a Marshrutka to Kutaisi--these are quite frequent and an equally good option to make that journey. After about an hour and a half, and about 20 stops at various roadside stands selling motor oil repackaged in coke bottles out of the backs of shipping containers (I guess he eventually found the right one), we made it to Kutaisi. I went to stay at Giorgi's Homestay, recommended in the Lonely Planet. Giorgi was very friendly and helpful right off the bat, explaining where all the things to see/do were and how to get there. His house is very spacious and nice; it's also in an interesting part of the city and not too distant from the center--just be prepared to walk home uphill. He's extremely helpful and a good host (shares his wine) so I would strongly endorse him as a homestay choice.

Bagrati Cathedral

That night I went to the Old City restaurant somewhere near the main square. I was the only one there besides a group of Georgian guys feasting and consuming copious amounts of alcohol. Luckily, they were already at the point in their night at which I was swiftly integrated into their festivities, finally winding up at their table after I had finished my meal. Between my crappy Russian and their meager English we were able to string together a type of communication that included frequent references to hockey, "Bode Miller", and a lot of phrases that went something like "This…moments…of heart. ROCK AND ROLL!". Needless to say, it was glorious, and while the ceiling clearance was a bit too low to easily chug a glass of beer with a vodka shot in it while standing on a chair, it was a wild and crazy time.

Rock and Roll moments

The next day, I missed the train to Tkibuli. Turns out, it leaves at 09:00 AM, not 09:20 like the website says. If you go to Georgia and plan on doing a lot of traveling by train, get a physical schedule from the depot as soon as you can (I took a picture) since evidently the website can't be trusted. Trying to make the most of the day, I set out for the Prometheus Cave after having sat a while in a café, which was nice. The cave is not too far--I paid about 25 Lari for a taxi though there are direct Marshrutkas that are much cheaper. The cave itself was nice, though the light/sound set up bordered on being gaudy and distracted from the natural beauty a bit. I was going to try to go to Sataplia, but it was closed that day--Prometheus Cave is closed Monday, and Sataplia Tuesday. So, I tried to catch the train home from Tskaltubo. Tskaltubo is a spa town that, while still active with a mineral springs and some resort facilities, has clearly seen better days. The sprawling town is littered with old buildings, potentially hotels and resort facilities, that have nice architecture but are crumbling and largely vacant. If you like this kind of thing, Tskaltubo is the place for you. Just don't fall in any of the various open manholes which dot the sides of some sidewalk-less roads. The place has a vacant feel which is particularly eerie with all the massive, ornate, and yet empty buildings all around. The best way to describe it was a place that felt haunted in the daylight; it was so rejected that it didn't even need some sort of nightfall to make it feel creepy. Incidentally, the train station is actually being rebuilt, which is great because it too is old and ornate, but what would make it really great is if the trains actually ran--they do, because the rails were shiny on top, but evidently not my train, which I planned to take at 16:00 (correct schedule) from Tskaltubo to Kutaisi. After waiting for 45 minutes, I left. I have no idea if there was some anomaly, or if that particular train is not running for some reason, but I wound up taking a Marschrutka home.

Schedule posted in depot

Artificial lighting in cave

Depot

Today I did successfully make it to Tkibuli on the 9:00 train. It is an ancient engine and one small passenger car and takes more than twice as long (at 3 hours) as a marshrutka but it is well patronized and dirt cheap (one lari--not that a marshrutka is much more expensive). It is actually a very interesting experience, winding up through the hills through small towns and former industrial areas, with surprisingly scenic vistas along the way. The conductor was very friendly, opening some of the broke windows with a knife (which he alarmingly presented to me before opening the windows). Finally, the train made it to Tkibuli, where it turns out there is a relatively important coal operation, though it is tiny by American standards. They are still running coal trains to this location--one was sitting in Kutaisi this morning, and when I left Tkibuli it was sitting in the yard there. They also had a switcher engine moving cars around the small yard/loadout on the south end of town. If I understood the worker I asked later, some of the trains are only about 6 cars, though the strings I saw looked more on the order 12 or 15--though I wouldn't be surprised, as that route is very torturous with a lot of tight S-curves, sharp grades, and a haired-over and decrepit right of way that left even our small passenger car screeching against the edges. Some of the wear patterns on the rail made me wonder if we would drop between the gage at some points, so bad had things deteriorated. Once we got to Tkibuli, I got to walk through the ancient engine and watched as the conductor and a brakeman stood between the engine and the single car (which didn't have brakes applied) while they switched. When they did couple the engine to the car, it moved a good two feet and the conductor had to move out of the way but was apparently unfazed. I guess there is no such thing as  3-step here.

Train to Tkibuli

Anyway, Tkibuli is a nice town. My first impression after getting off the train was that it was very busy. The main square is right at the station, and it was full of people. There were a lot of shops downtown, and a pleasant river. To the north were some administrative buildings, and to the south the road, railroad, and a bunch of apartment buildings were arranged in parallel lines between the hillside and the river or the coal loadout. The town was fairly pleasing to be in; a sense of bustle and a surprisingly nice architecture that even encompassed some of the apartment buildings contributed to a nice feel. I saw one place that said it was a hotel (didn't go check this, it looked a bit vacant but as always, who knows with this sort of thing), so overnight stays should not be too hard to arrange here. I even saw four backpackers arrive, which suggested that they too had found accommodation. Apparently there are also scenic overlooks nearby. If I had the time, I think an overnight would be nice. Oh--the mine. I tried to go there, but the surprisingly sympathetic guard said it wasn't possible, so for all you "urban explorer" types, don't try it. 

At the depot

The depot

Tkibuli life

Large complex 1

Large complex 2

I returned via marshrutka and got off at the station to see what was going on. I wound up talking to some train crew for a little while, who griped about their low salaries and had apparently seen something on TV about American railroads because they kept talking about it and were apparently fascinated with the dispatcher's office. I did learn that there is some local traffic here I tried to talk to them about looking around but they said I had to talk to a "[railroad] officer" to do that (turns out one was sitting about 20 feet from us, but at that point I figured it was just better to come back the next day). In any case, I think I'll go back before my train to Tbilisi in the morning and see if I can't talk to one of these low level managers and take a look around. There's a shop facility not far and I'll see what the deal is with that .

8/10/14 Pics

Mestia

On the road to the glacier

Me + Mountains

The glacier

Gaping maw of glacier + me

Cross on the hill

Hungry cows hiked up mountain to eat grass

Lil' hut

"pristine alpine lake". The scotsman camping out there (who asked if I had weed...) recommended to get rid of the Lonely Planet, which I later came to agree with, insofar as relying so heavily on a guide can make your adventure a bit check-listy

On the way down from the lakes

varmits

Statue of the queen with a very rotund horse

From the top of a defense tower

The one picture I took on the way down. That cut over there is where the road goes.

8/10/14 (text)

Without going into details, due to a debit card snafu I've had to stay an extra day in Mestia. Protip: if you're going abroad, take all your cards and activate them for use (including getting PINs for credit cards) in case you lose one, accidentally cancel the other, and have a credit card that doesn't work at ATMs. Anyway…..

I've been hiking yesterday and the day before, and I'll let the photos speak for themselves, but thought I would first provide some logistical information.

Chalaadi Glacier: First, this one has a lot of tourists since you can go by jeep almost the whole way. If you hike, follow the road/jeep track out of town past the airport. After leaving town, you won't see many blazes, but just stay on that main road and you'll be fine. After about 2 hours, maybe a bit less, you'll reach a sketchy bridge over a River of Doom, which is pretty fun to cross. And actually very secure. You can bounce it a little bit in the middle if you want to scare everyone ****less. Cross that, and things start going pretty much straight uphill along the river, with beautiful views. When preparing for this hike, remember that there is no concept of switchbacks here, so your calves will get destroyed. There are plenty of blazes here so just follow along. After about 45 minutes you'll get into a not-fun rocky area, so bring hiking boots as the ground turns into watermelon sized rocks, only they're sharp and present a dangerous slip/trip/fall hazard, and you could easily twist an ankle. The glacier, though often with many tourists, is pretty cool--the water comes from a hole in the ice and rushes downhill at breakneck speed. It's fun to watch rocks fall off the glacier--which is covered in dirt and aforementioned rocks--but I would strongly recommend against getting too close. There are some spots where maybe you can see a bit of ice through the cover, and I was tempted to go try to touch the actual glacier, but it is not worth it as the rocks can give way at any time and you will not survive that river. Don't be deceived if there are only a few falling--larger ones can go too, and even a few small ones can be enough if you're standing on them. Now that I've got my Edge Awareness preachy moment over with, this is a really fun hike with great views besides. It took me around 5 1/2 hours, not including time spent on the glacier.

Koruldi Lakes/Cross: Again, no concept of switchbacks and my legs were already destroyed from the day before. Spectacular views, if it's not partially or totally cloudy (as it was when I hiked it). To the cross is about 2 hours if you're really moving--I did so and burnt myself up for the next part to the lakes, which I thought would be much gentler. If you want to camp, there's a nice 2-level platform type thing with a roof. Continuing on to the lakes, you leave the trees behind and start climbing through some pretty neat alpine meadows. You'll shortly happen upon a rustic homestead, whose owners will point you to a spring if you know some Russian. It's across from the cabin on the hillside, and there's a small path and a bench right next to it. I didn't want to get lost trying to find it on the way up, but on the way down I had the help of my Ukranian friends and we found it sure enough. It comes from a pipe in the hillside, so you're not taking it from some nasty pool, and actually is very cool and clean--I drank it and it hasn't killed me yet. Or even given me giardia. From random streams, I would not drink--cows range everywhere, and so do their turds. Anyway, the hike thereafter is quite deceptive--you think you've only got a little bit more elevation to go, but as the air thins and the path keeps going steeply uphill, you realize you've still got a lot more to go. Make sure to bring plenty of water--save bottles as you can safely fill up at springs in the town. You'll hike for probably another solid 1.5 (if you're a Hiking Hero) or 2 hours until you hit the lakes. Lonely Planet lied bigtime--these are not "pristine lakes" but large, overglorified puddles in an alpine meadow. They're a little bit interesting, I guess, but don't hike this hike just for that. Hike it for the  views, which are spectacular the whole way up. Even though it was overcast (and even rained a little) when I hiked it, there were still some great views, and on a sunny day it has to be unbelievable. At the top, I met some Tasmanian dude named Simon who was camping near the lakes. If you've got a filter, this may not be a half-bad idea though there is no cover. He was an interesting dude, wanting to "poke around Ushba a bit" (not climb it or anything) but I digress. At the top, I met up with some Ukranians and we hiked back down. As a side note: I've also met a bunch of Ukranians on the trip and they have all been exceptionally helpful and friendly. We talked about a wide variety of topics (Russian invasion, which they disliked, even though they were half-Russian and from Donetsk, and sports) but also got lost. This is very important: on the way down, do not follow the jeep path the whole way. Make sure to note during your ascent to the cross where the trail converges with the jeep path. We were hiking down from the cross and missed this, and the road started taking us further away from Mestia--even beyond the airport which was across the river. I think it eventually empties out somewhere near the upper bridge that is across from the airport in Mestia, but I don't know for sure and it takes a very circuitous route. We eventually went down the mountain following cow paths, which were very steep but did get us to the road on the north side of the river. These cow paths are everywhere, and contrary to the Lonely Planet's terrible suggestion that shortcuts are readily available, it's always best to take the more obviously traveled route--which on this trail is generally well marked with blazes. That is, of course, unless you have an emergency or get lost as we did, and then it might be prudent to take a panic azimuth to the river, proceeding carefully as there are some slight cliffs and drop-offs in places.

Mestia: On my 3rd day, it rained a bunch so I didn't do too much exploring, but the town is fairly underwhelming. The Mikhail Khergiani museum does, again contrary to Lonely Planet, charge for admission (3 GEL w/excursion, 2 w/o, 1 for students). I couldn't go in because I'm flat broke. The bigger newer church was shut even though it was a Sunday afternoon--perhaps go earlier? On the bright side, there is a tower at 11 Lanchvali street that is just open, and you can climb that. There is a ladder to the roof but don't do anything more than stick your head out for pics as there are no railings to stop a fall.

Additional Stuff: Don't expect a lot of help from the tourist info center. The lady working there, while not rude, is clearly bored, and her answers are not very illuminating. Plus the map they give you is utter garbage. Other than that, bring bug spray, because the flies can get intense.

Batumi pt 2/Most terrifying ride of death

Due to cramped space and terror, there were no pictures. Sorry?

After making the mistake of going to a club with some other people at the hostel (thinking it somehow would be interesting--protip: it was deserted and they wouldn't even let you sit on the couches. I guess things pick up after 12:30 AM) I got up early to get the marshrutka to Mestia. It turns out there are two bus stations--one on this giant triangular plaza, and another right off the main road across from the cable car. Turns out, the marshrutka leaves from the one across from the cable car, and it left at 14:30. On that particular day only one was running. You have to buy tickets; mine was 40 GEL but the vehicle was not packed--we actually left an hour or hour and  a half later so a group of slovakian hikers could get on (they're everywhere, and very friendly). Before that, I spent the day sitting on the main beach since the weather was nice. This only reaffirmed my opinion of the Batumi beach as highly underwhelming. Water is nasty, beach is rocks, current is strong, and space is limited. After coming back and changing, I went to the marshrutka. After talking for a while with my co-passengers (Ukrainian and Slovakian) and passing through Poti (note: there is a lot of rail stuff here) I slept until we started going up into the mountains. The view was magnificent yet terrifying as we climbed up the gorge, cliffs on either side (there were concrete barriers, but still) going hundreds of feet above and below us. So steep and so high was it that it was impossible  to see the river at the bottom, probably 500-1000 feet below. After that we crossed a ridge and did the same thing, only this time along a reservoir and the cliffs were only at about a 60 or 70 degree angle, as opposed to 80 or almost 90.  There were a lot of random people selling honey out of little stalls along the roadside, and apparently it is quite cheap. We got to a guesthouse for some food, and when I ordered mine, I discovered much to my chagrin that the driver and his buddy (who we picked up along the way--this happens frequently from what I gather) were working on one of those 2 Liter beers. Frightening as this was, I had to make a choice. I had two crappy options: carry on with this driver, who, in fairness to him, was probably stocky enough that 1 liter would not do much or act very strangely by refusing a ride and stranding myself at this house hugging the side of a cliff, where further transport (I was broke) seemed unlikely. So I hesitantly took my chances, buying myself a beer so that I too would not remain in perfect sobriety. We set out, and the road kept traveling through alternatively narrow and slightly wider river valleys. Occasionally we passed a settlement, some showing signs of abandoned light industry. While not traveling along cliffs constantly, the road was narrow and flanked by either side on steep hills, and on multiple occasions we had to swerve to avoid fallen rock--this was especially scary as the driver didn't slow down when traveling around certain corners. In fact, for every 20 or 30 yards of straight road, he got up to about 40 miles an hour before rapidly braking to take the turn--in a giant Mercedes van. At one point, the road was down to one lane and as we approached a blind corner a Kamaz truck came barreling down from the opposite direction. We both slammed on the brakes and stopped a good 15 yards from one another, but it was terrifying. Things only got worse as night began to fall, the road went higher, and what little room we had separating us from the furious mountain river and certain death went to nil and suddenly we were barreling through the night, cliffs on either side, accelerating as much as the van would allow and then braking hard to take corners blindly. I thought of the irony that this guy would surely burn up his brakes going uphill, so agressively did he tackle the whole thing. At this point, roughly an hour after dinner, I don't think the beer was having any effect--I guess he just wanted to get home. I was holding on to the seat in front of me, figuring that if we somehow avoided death in the event of an accident I only wanted to travel 45 mph over the space of 2 inches rather than 2 feet before coming into contact with the chair in front of me. At one point, the driver (who had also been taking phone calls) reached to mess with the radio and accidentally shut off the lights--sheer terror. He flipped them back on, and we made it to Mestia after another grueling 45 minutes, but that was by far the most terrifying trip I've ever been on. It's a shame because it is also so beautiful--if I wasn't terrified it would have been thoroughly enjoyable, and even still it had its moments. But apparently this is a common occurrence, so consider this when planning. It's possible to fly into Mestia, weather dependent, for 65 GEL and presumably much less danger.

To compound issues, when I arrived I found that my homestay had somehow double booked me despite my 3-week-in-advance notice and I was taken to a friend of the marshrutka driver's. it was 50 lari/night including 2 meals (breakfast and dinner), which I thought was a reasonable deal.