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A Rainy Night in Georgia

The good and the bad of international travel

rain 90 °F

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So, the attempt to wait out the wee hours of the morning in a 24-hour restaurant was a complete failure. My train from Yerevan had arrived just after midnight, Friday. I knew if I tried to check in to a hotel that I would be charged for the full, previous day. So, my big idea was to hang out in this restaurant that had wireless internet until it was later in the morning. Then, I could swing by my hotel that I hoped would have a room for me (I'd booked Sunday last time I was in Tblisi, but they hadn't responded to my emails to extend it into Saturday, too). So, i really didn't knowing I even had a room.

The restaurant was fine, the Internet was good, and my friends like Steve, Joe, Otis and others did their best to keep me awake as the clock crawled towards 3 and 4 am. I just couldn't take sitting there anymore after 5 am, though. I decided to walk to the hotel and see if they had 24-hour reception and plead my case. It was easy to find, and I wasn't the only one walking the streets at 5 am. There were plenty of partiers making their way home. Everyone had said Tblisi is a safe city, and this was the heart of the tourist district. So, no one bothered me or even gave me as much as a second glance. There were no lights on I the hotel - a small, family-run one - so, I headed towards a tiny park I remembered nearby. I sat on a bench for about an hour before trying again.

This time someone was up, and they let me in. The man at the desk spoke almost no English, but he seemed to recognize my name. He made a point to acknowledge that I would change rooms on Sunday into the one I'd booked for Jenny and I. I gratefully crashed in a bed and slept until about 1030 am. Later on, when I was showered and ready to do some sightseeing, English speakers were manning the desk. I found out they were charging me for the whole previous day, like I'd done so much to avoid. We argued, and they ended up knocking $30 off the rate, which was much more reasonable. Still, it irked me that it was a room they knew they hadn't rented the previous day. Why not let me check in early?

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So, enough about my pinching pennies - or in this case, Georgian Laris. The day was sunny and warm, but I honestly didn't know where I was headed. I had a few things I wanted to do today, so I ambled towards the main square, still half in a sleep-deprived fog. I hadn't made it down to this part of the city on my first brief visit and was surprised how pretty it all was. My impression from the first time was Old Town was very run down and crumbling. This was the spruced up, reconstructed, tourist-friendly part. I noticed the cable cars climbing up towards Nariqala Fortress, and like any history buff, couldn't resist the lure of a cool castle.

The cable car was very slick - air conditioned, smooth, efficient and cheap ($1 or so). Nariqala Fortress looms over the city from a steep hilltop. It's ruins are not that extensive, but enough to poke around for an hour. You can climb the walls, and scramble up hillsides to the fragments of ruined towers. The sun was baking - it was easily 90 degrees. However, the higher you climbed, the more often you were rewarded with a fresh, cooling breeze. It was just the medicine to wake me up out of my stupor. Tblisi looked bright and scenic spread out at my feet, and I took lots of photographs.

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I don't know who had the idea first, but - like Armenia - Georgia also has a "mother" statue guarding the city from atop a hill. Mother Georgia holds a wine goblet welcoming visitors who come peacefully in one hand and a sword in the other, for those who come with ill intent. The statue looks like concrete, but has been carved and painted to resemble steel plating. I was dripping sweat by the time I made my way to the cable car down. I was tempted by the ice cream seller, but figured my fat body was sweating for a reason, and i didn't need to sabotage its efforts to get back in shape! The blast of air conditioning was heavenly, though, as I floated down towards the city.

Next up was purchasing some train tickets for Jenny and I, as well as visiting the Tourist Information Office to answer some more logistical questions. That completed, I headed back to the room for a nice, air conditioned nap. I woke up to the rumble of thunder. Looking at my watch, I saw it was dinner time. I'd already picked out a restaurant earlier, so got myself pulled together and headed downstairs. I decided against the rain jacket, my mind remembering the day's 90 degree heat. I couldn't imagine suffocating in a rain jacket. Of course, the skies let loose a downpour of biblical proportions about 10 minutes after I'd left the hotel. I ducked underneath an overhang by the entrance to an office buildings to wait it out. The wind began to whip and the rain drops crept closer to my feet. I pressed against the glass of the door and felt the latch release. I looked around inside, saw no one, so stepped inside out of the rain.

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Just I case I was breaking office rules, I kept silent and out of sight. Eventually, I heard a chair scrape against the floor and Vasily came around, doubtless drawn by the sound of the driving rain, roaring wind, and the cats and dogs raining down upon the pavement. Outside the glass door, we could see a river rushing down the street. I said hello in Georgian and gestured toward the hurricane outside his door. This was one of the moments that spice up international travel like an unexpected jalapeño. Instead of of ordering me out,Vasily invited me into sit in the office's comfortable chairs. We sat and talked for the next 45 minutes as the rain raged. He had visited the United States twice while in the Georgian army. He apologized for his English - which was fine - and we had a blast, sitting there talking the rainstorm away. Unexpected moments like this, when you connect with someone from another culture, are just as important to travel as soaring castles, serene monasteries and majestic scenery.

I was even more appreciative of Vasily's hospitality when I saw what his job at the "office" was. He was the armory officer, of sorts, for an armed security guard company. His coworkers began to come in, unload their pistols, and turn in the weapons and ammunition to him. If anybody had a reason to order a stranger out into the windswept, rainy streets, it would have been Vasily. Instead, he opened the door and let me witness Georgian hospitality again.

Eventually, the rain died down enough for me to slosh along the irregular, stone pavement to my restaurant. I said my goodbye and thanks to Vasily, and headed out I to the darkness. A bright spot remained inside me. The next time I'm caught in an unexpected downpour, I'll think back to a "rainy night in Georgia," and a stranger who took me in and made my day brighter.

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Posted by world_wide_mike 11:54 Archived in Georgia Tagged town old georgia nariqala tblisi Comments (2)

Day Trip To Gori

A cave city and a leader who belonged in one...

sunny 86 °F

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Cave city of Uplistsikhe

One comparison I'd make between Georgia and Armenia is that Armenia seems more "up to date" and Western. The downtown area of Yerevan is nice, very walk able and has lots of shops and amenities. The Old Town area of Tblisi is more torn up, you have to watch where you're stepping all the time on the uneven and missing pavement, and amenities for travelers are less developed. The case in point was there are a host of competing companies in Armenia offering various excursions to cultural sights far and wide in Armenia. In Georgia, you have to contact a travel agency and set up an expensive, individual tour, or manage on public transport. You can't join affordable, pre-set trips like you can in Armenia.

Which is why I was heading off to the town of Gori in a marshrutka that morning. I had a day to kill, as Jenny's flight wasn't arriving until midnight. I wanted to go to Davit Gareja, an important UNESCO world heritage church and monastery complex. However, at more than $100 for an individual tour, I wasn't buying. In Armenia, Sigrid and I paid less than $40 and joined an 11-hour excursion to three important sights. In Georgia, they just don't have those kind of things set up.

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Countryside around the cave city

So, what was in Gori that made it second choice? Most people think of the museum there to Josef Stalin. That wasn't my primary draw nor my first stop once in Gori. Just outside of town, there is a cave city that was inhabited from prehistoric through medieval times. Where Vardzia was more of a monastic community, Uplistsikhe was a town, in essence. Being a Georgian town, there were churches and chapels, of course. It's focus though was not on religion - but instead on being an ordinary town where some people happen to live in homes dug out of the soft tan-colored sandstone that makes up the hills along the river bank.

Fortunately, the marshrutka driver dropped me off right in front of Gori's Tourist Information Office (across from the Stalin museum). They were incredibly helpful, and arranged a taxi to take me to the site, wait while I explored it, then bring me back for 20 Lari - about $12. I've found that if you can get a local (hotel, tourist office, etc.) to arrange your taxi trip, you get a fair price.

Uplistsikhe was very cool. The site is more spread out than Vardzia was, and even though there were several tour buses worth of people there, I usually explored individual caves or rooms by myself. There are guides if you want them, but I opted not. The map and information boards a the beginning, along with the handful of placards on site, were enough for me. I admit I would likely have learned more with a guide. Just as often, though, I've had them rush me through sites in the past. They almost akways interfere with me losing myself in the history if the place. I've also had them give me less information than was in my guidebook or feed me bogus facts. And since the only thing NOT hit or miss about guides is their price, I usually opt out of having a guide.

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One neat thing was a local group was filming a movie on site that day. They were camped out in one of the really atmospheric caves, with a carved stone column in the center of the room. They brought in props like candles, table, wall hanging, etc. the actors were dressed in medieval costumes and you could see them pacing around prepping themselves for their scene. I ducked my head in to watch one scene and it looked like a neat historical epic. The lead actor, a burly, gray-bearded man who reminded me of Peter Ustinov, was portraying a great Georgian king, I believe. I think it was a community or somewhat amateur production, as many of the actors were very young and their costumes weren't very elaborate. However, I would like to see a subtitled version of it, someday.

My taxi dropped me back off at the tourist office. From there, inset off the climb the hill in the center of town with its medieval castle. It was maybe a 15-minute walk and climb to the top. It was another gorgeous, sunny day. The wind was whipping that day, especially on the edge of hilltops! I climbed around on the walls, patrolled the perimeter of the castle, and looked out over Gori beneath me. Two French tourists visited the castle briefly at the same time, and there were two Georgian policemen on duty up top. Other than that, I had Gori castle to myself. The walls are in partial ruins and you can't climb inside any of the structures, but it had a nice, lonely feel to it. Judging from the empty beer bottles littering the grassy hilltop, most of its visitors we're not tourists, but locals looking for somewhere to kick back.

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My final stop was the much-heralded and way overpriced Stalin Museum. Entrance was more than $10, but it did include a guide. It wasn't compulsory to go with a group, but none of the signs or labels were in English, so I relented. At the beginning there is a piece of puffery that says the museum supposedly looks at both the good (lead USSR to victory over Nazi Germany in WW II) and bad (had, oh, maybe 20 million of his own people put to death) of Stalin. The only things I saw were glorifying him. Here were photos of him as a young Bolshevik revolutionary, there photos of him encouraging the Soviets to persevere in the war. In another room were gifts given to him by other nations in honor of his birthday. No balance was seen at all...unless it was in those Georgian and Russian captions I could not read. Our guide mentioned nothing about gulags, executions by the secret police, or starvation of millions of Russians through forced collectivization of farms. Even the house Stalin was born in is preserved underneath a temple like structure outside the museum. The only part I honestly enjoyed was his armored train he used as a mobile office in WW II.

After the tour, I decided to head to the bus station, and get back to Tblisi. My sense of direction bombed on me and I merrily marched off in the wrong direction for about 15 minutes before I discovered my mistake. I not-so-merrily retraced my steps and found the station, and my marshrutka. On the way out, I'd had to wait 45 minutes before it departed. I got lucky this time and it left 5 minutes after I climbed aboard. I was soon headed back to slightly ragged and run-down Tbilisi. It may not always be pretty, but for tonight it was home.

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Posted by world_wide_mike 10:22 Archived in Georgia Tagged museum castle yerevan stalin tblisi gori uplistsikhe marshrutka Comments (0)

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