Can worldwidemike surmount the "impregnable" Tmogvi castle?
06/30/2012 - 06/30/2012 82 °F
So yesterday's experience with the marshrutka must have been the Cadillac of services. Today began with a marshrutka ride to my guesthouse that I would be staying at for the next two days. Everything started out normal, though this van was definitely more drab and dark. I should have known this would be a different experience when our driver made about six stops to pick up merchandise to deliver along his route. Marshrutka drivers are more than just bus drivers - they are entrepreneurs. The more cargo they can ram in to supplement the paying passengers, the more they make. About halfway through the route, as more people and cargo was piled on, I honestly wondered if they ever turned anyone away as full. Or 14 passenger van had at least 24 folks squeezed together with chickens, produce, luggage and even a spare tire! I wasn't the only one concerned about our overloaded state. I noticed one lady cross herself and pray after four more people crammed on.
I made it safely and "kind of" to my destination. I'd booked Tirebi Guesthouse (http://www.tirebiguesthouse.com/) online through a company back in the capital. As it turns out, the guesthouse has no Internet, so this third party handles their booking and communicates with them via phone. They did not want to give me their number, though, and insisted the host would pick me upon the nearby village. They wouldn't give me his phone number, though. They wanted me to call THEM, and then they would call him. I told the I would not have a phone, though,and explained which marshrutka I would be arriving on. So, no surprise that no one was there to pick me up. Fortunately, I'd seen the sign for the turnoff for the guesthouse about a quarter of a mile before we'd pulled into the village. I simply had to backtrack and then hike the two kilometers to the guesthouse.
I knew it was also a working farm, but I didn't realize it was "out in the sticks." Guesthouse Tirebi has no neighbors and lives by themselves at the foot of the main place I wanted to see: Tmogvi Castle. I was the only guest, too. My room was nice, with a bathroom and shower - no dorm sleeping, woo-hoo! It was fairly clean, too. Farmer Sergei's directions on how to climb up to the cliff top ruins of the castle were disturbingly vague. I assumed the "path" would be easy to find, though and soon geared up for my climb.
The very minimal path disappeared from time to time,but it wasn't until I entered a meadow of thistles, tall grass and rocks that it escaped me completely. I knew Georgia had snakes, and the rock piles worried me. Sure enough, I did the Heeby Jeeby I Just Saw a Snake dance a few times. I almost turned around. But I would have to recross snakeland to do it. I could see the ruins walls and towers looming above me, getting marginally closer. I finally decided that I may have lost THE path (if there ever was one), but I could do my best to make my own way up. I began zig-zagging upwards, slipping on loose rocks or grass from time to time. After what seemed a long time, I was at the base of the walls.
One problem, though: this castle was reknowned in the middle ages for being impregnable. The high walls on top of a towering hill made it impossible for attackers to seize. So, just how easy would it be for a 49-year-old history teacher to surmount? Having come all this way, I was determined to try. I circled the hilltop, trying a couple routes but being turned back by sheer walls or dense patches of vegetation that screamed "snake" to me. I did breach the outer wall at one point, but it led to yet another sheer wall. Defeated, like it's medieval attackers, I retreated downhill to a pathway I saw cutting through the valley. I followed it to an actual gravel road, and followed its long loop (threading my way through a herd of cows...thinking, "hmmm,those are male cows - I hope I don't get charged by a bull!"). It soon became obvious this was not the original road I walked to the guesthouse on. It was leading me too far past.
Eventually, I found another trail which led me back to the farm. I sank down on a bench on the covered porch, exhausted. Sergei's wife brought me a glass of tasty fruit juice. I savored it, watching Sergei (who speaks as much English as I do Georgian) and his 10-year-old son, Giorgi (who speaks some English) amble up from the river. Giorgi translated my adventures flor his dad. They asked if I was still interested in visiting Khertsvivi Fortress, and I said I was. They let me rest for about a half hour before Sergei and I Jumped into his SUV for the 15 minute drive.
Khertsvivi is a 14th century castle built to guard the junction of two rivers in a narrow valley. It has very eastern stylistic influences, including the triangular crennalations. Although it is unguarded and open to the public to roam, it is more complete than the ruined Tmogvi. We walked around it for awhile, climbing towers and poking into rooms. My body was still feeling my earlier climb, so I wasn't into it as much as I'd normally be. We returned to the guesthouse, where I showered and then took a nap. I'm still feeling the sleep deprivation, apparently. Funny thing, though. Both yesterday and today, when I woke up from my nap, I had no idea where I was for about 10 seconds. I guess whatever dreams I was having seemed equally real to my adventures in Georgia.
I finished off the evening with a family-cooked meal of more food than I could eat in several days. The fried potatoes were excellent, as were the fresh cucumbers and tomatoes. There is no internet here, so I'll send this update later (probably from Armenia on Monday). Right now, my body is telling me to stretch out, relax, and catch up on more sleep!