Days: 540 (17 December 2015)

Total distance travelled: 137,065.5 kilometres (85,133.86 miles)

As we bounced our way through the Georgian countryside, we were by now after a couple of days here, able to form some impressions of the place, also reinforcing that our initial thoughts were pretty close to the mark.

A land of money changers (exchangers), free range cows (as in wandering the streets) and rust!

Oh the rust, it did everything to fulfil my imaginations as to what a post Soviet era country would look like.

Initially our journey followed the shores of the Black Sea , but eventually (or should that have been inevitably?) it was left behind, as happens when you’re headed towards a city not on the coast.

By perhaps mid afternoon, after an occasionally bumpy, but not unpleasant journey, we made it to Kutaisi.

Together, we got our bearings and wandered off into the suburbs.

It might sound like a random thing to do, but it was here that our lodging, again booked online, was to be found.

Now when I say we trekked into the suburbs, we weren’t miles from the downtown area, but it was certainly a quiet street, full of plenty of the aforementioned rust, and some searching was certainly required before we finally found our goal, accessed through a large metal gate (replete with rust of course).

This place was a two storey number, and after making our presence known, eventually a young local, looking as I would expect a Russian mobster to (short cropped hair, gold chain and leather jacket) appeared, waving to us whilst holding a cell phone to his ear.

He seemed to indicate to us to wait whilst he talked, so we did.

It felt like some time, but eventually the gate through which we’d entered opened, and through stepped another young man, whom we’d quickly learn was to be our interpreter.

Our host, he spoke little to no English, so had enlisted the aid of this friend to ensure we had a pleasant stay, even though it was to be for just one night.

We settled ourselves in quickly, before taking our leave to explore in the stunning winter weather.

It wasn’t random, we had a destination in mind, as not so far above the town sat the Bagrati Cathedral, one half of a UNESCO World Heritage listing.

Originally built in the Eleventh Century, it (like much of the city) was a relatively easy walk from our short term abode.

In more recent times, it has been a source of discord between UNESCO and the city of Kutaisi.

Less than ten years ago, Bagrati lay in a state of ruin.

An Italian architect was then enlisted to restore the place to its former glory.

Restoration was conducted, seemingly along with some modern additions which have since caused UNESCO to question the authenticity of the site.

Not having seen what remained compared to what now stood, this was hard for us to fully fathom.

However elevated as it was, it certainly was a lovely vantage point from which to take in the city below, and an even further delight/surprise to do so, not feeling anywhere near as cold as we should given the time of year.

A cheeky beer or vino most certainly would not have gone astray!

Wandering a circuit around the cathedral, we could certainly see some of the ‘modern’ touches that might have UNESCO frothing at the mouth, but given the number of visitors we saw (I’m assuming locals, possibly just up here to enjoy the winter sun), it’s not yet proving a deterrent for visitors.

We made our way downtown before we completely lost what was left of the daylight, an interesting blend of classic (whether old or modern I’m not sure) architecture, juxtaposed by the harshly cornered, concrete laden contributions of the Soviet era.

A real mix of beauty and at times the absurd.

As the sun dipped, so did the mercury, so after wandering awhile, we found the cold air a good trigger to find ourselves e a bit of a bite, so we wandered back to our hosts abode to see if they had any recommendations for dinner.

Yet again (seemingly like everything thus far in the city) a short distance away, we were directed to a local eatery where the Khinkali came recommended.

A Georgian treat, ever since first reading about them we’d been eager to give them a try, and to have a place recommended by locals, what could be better!

To me it felt like the ultimate fusion of Asian dumplings (but on steroids) and hearty Eastern European fare.

A dumpling is indeed what they are, but larger in size, and filled with more homely fillings, such as mashed potato, cheese, meat or mushroom.

Washed down with a couple of beers, in no way did they disappoint.

They did have a thicker, slightly chewy stem, which we later learned locals didn’t eat, but simply used as a handle with which to hold it (I’m unsure if there were a few smirks at our empty plates, devoid of un-chewed Khinkali stems)!

After a fairly satisfying day, we thought we were done, but back at the ranch, our host had another surprise in store.

In an effort to be the ever gracious proprietor, he presented to us a slightly battered looking Coca-Cola bottle, full of a clear (or was it slightly murky?) liquid.

His English speaking colleague also soon appeared with some sort of soda with flowers adorning its sides (it tasted slightly like a Creamy Soda).

We were not to be done, until we’d sampled some of the local Chacha!

This is a Georgian Brandy (think rocket fuel), for the most part home brewed, and thus ensued a drinking session between the two of us, and our gracious host (his English speaking friend wasn’t a drinker).

As the night wore on, we eventually polished off the bottle, his friend left and Sarah snuck off to bed.

To my surprise (and pain), another bottle suddenly appeared, and thus the remainder of my night disappeared…

Sometime the following morning, much later than either of us had planned, we woke, myself at least, still drunk.

As we gathered our dulled wits, Sarah suddenly asked “Where are your pants?”

Initially a little panicked, as within could usually be found my wallet and our camera, we eventually located these, but signs of my pants (my upper layers were also missing), there were none.

Sarah gathered herself (turns out she’d made the wise decision to make herself vomit, lest she wake this morning feeling as rancid as she might), and left our room in the hope of finding my missing clothing.

This she did, finding them sodden in the washing machine, so she quickly lay them out atop an radiator heater in the hope of drying them.

Slowly, snippets of a horrible end appeared in my mind.

I have no recollection of us finishing that second bottle, but at some point in time I must have passed out on the sofa where we’d been drinking.

These snippets reminded me of a semi conscious moment, where I was being assisted off this couch, having vomited (hopefully most of) up the Chacha on both the floor, and over myself.

We could only assume our host had assisted me out of my now soiled clothes, and had taken the time to not only put them into a washing machine, put also get it running!

It was one of those mornings where had I not still been drunk, I might have felt like never drinking again.

Now after all this, we had a train to catch!

(UPDATE: Since our visit in 2015, as a result of the changes deemed irreversible by UNESCO, Bagrati Cathedral lost its World Heritage listing in 2017)

 

Notes:

* A marshrutka from Batumi to Kutaisi cost us ₾10.00 Lari each.

* Entry into the Bagrati Cathedral (then a UNESCO World Heritage site) was FREE