Speeding through Georgia and a few thoughts on Australia!

Okay, I'll admit, I've been putting off the blog a bit here and there (again?!) so I'll trying getting upto speed again. In all honesty I've been having a bit of writer's block recently - everything feels a bit samey once I get it down. I need to leave my comfort zone and get some inspiration methinks!

Anyway, today being the 17th, all going to plan I should be beginning my long journey towards Australia in 2 and a bit days (!!!!). Barely thought about it at all until now...

The vague plan (the only way I know) is to stay in Sydney for a week or so, get acclimatised, organised and then maybe dive straight into the fields. Or, I could spend a couple of months sightseeing before Christmas, then get to work in the new year.

I've been hearing about Wwoofing (its an organisation consisting of a network of organic fruit farms across Australia) which could be a good beginning step. It only costs a few dollars to sign up, and generally includes board. The downside to that is, you don't earn anything. I mean, I'm not looking to make that my priority, but it'd be handy to have a small income to supplement beer and maybe some food. With Wwoofing, you work for 6 hours a day (half a day) in exchange for a full day's board - all seems pretty reasonable.

Onto the recap then...

Georgia is a beautiful country. Having heard this and that about areas of conflict and kidnapping, I was sure to check up on the FCO website. Sure enough there were areas to avoid - namely the South Ossetia and Abkhazia regions.

I pounded my way through Tiblissi, Gori, Khashuri, Kutaisi and Batumi.

There was a very rugged, edgy feel for the most part, even the big capital city of Tiblissi (Tiflis to the locals) felt a bit more behind the times than other cities. It’s hard to put my finger on what the main differences are with Turkey.

I suppose the first one that’s noticeable is that there are no longer mosques in every village and town, but churches. People here are still religious though; examples being on the numerous taxi and bus rides where the driver would often draw a cross in front of himself just as the trip was beginning.

That brings me to the driving in Georgia. This blows most places out of the water in the extreme madness of it. Think people overtaking five cars at a time on a blind corner on what would be a motorway, running red lights, and turning four-lane traffic into 6 and 7, when a space presents itself. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy these journeys though. We’d all be bumping along in Ford Transits that were pushed to their absolute limit.

Driving here seemed more like a game. Whenever we got overtaken ourselves, our driver would make it his goal to overtake the other guy again. Sometimes this would go on for most of the journey and sitting above the axel was not advised.

Tiblissi

Georgia's capital city. I was only here for a few hours. I arrived when it was dark, connecting from bus to bus to taxi to foot.

At night the city wasn’t really pedestrian-friendly with large areas unlit and it was very easy to get lost. From the Ford Transit minibus I was dropped off in the centre and was handed over to a ‘gypsy’ taxi driver, who, through one of the other passengers on the minibus, said he could take me to a cheap hotel for 10GL.

The guy was pretty helpful even though his smile made sunflowers wilt. He’d drive around for ages, find a hotel, take me to the desk and ask them if they had room and at what price. If they were full, he’d take me to the next one, and so on. Every now and again we'd attempt a conversation, trying to overcome the language barrier, but I was somewhat concerned with keeping the guy's attention on the road.

After a bit of circling back and forth around the city, we (he) found a reasonable hotel. It was on a street lit up with casinos, which seem to be quite a big thing in Georgia. One day I'll have to try one...

I was pretty exhausted by this point, so I wasn’t on much that evening. I found a little place to eat, had a bowlful of something looking vaguely healthy and got some cheap ‘David Hard Drink’ Georgian Brandy – a pint for around about 3€. Before heading down the dusty road and armed with a tattered sheet of notepaper, with phonetic phrases I'd jotted down the day before, I practiced a little Georgian on the hotel staff.

Gori

I wasn’t in the mood for a big city, so I set about leaving Tiblissi and heading towards Gori the next morning.

I found myself a taxi and then the game of communication began. It took a doodle, embarrassing train noises, speaking to a friend on the driver's phone and a dude at a petrol station to ascertain that I wanted to get to the train station. It was all pretty hilarious and was a good start to the day.

Once at the train station, which looked broken and barely used, I realised that I'd be in another minibus or two that day. Sure enough, this was the case, but it has to be said that the scenery was beautiful on these journeys. Also, because of the relatively small size and nippiness of the Transits, we would go off the beaten track quite a bit, sometimes dropping farmers off at their fields, up and down winding lanes.

Before the Transit set off I browsed the markets in the area surrounding the train and bus stations.

Rows of fruit, clothes, books, nick nacks and interesting looking (and smelling) pastry snacks. I had a heavy pastry, slightly bigger than a Cornish pasty filled with crushed kidney beans (I think) that I could only just finish it was so filling. It must've cost about 1,50 Georgian Lari, somewhere in the region of 40p. I'd bought it from one of the little bakeries that are typical of Georgia - you get served from a tiny, almost cashpoint-sized window, which you could look through to a small kitchen where two ladies were tolling away and churning out pastry after pastry. The smells from these kiosks made you forget what else you were doing.

I also tried some brown drink, tasting vaguely like a mix between Guinness and Dr. Pepper, though less sweet and flat. Very refreshing.

Once I arrived in Gori it was chucking it down, so I thought on the spur of the moment I'd just jump in another bus rather than fight the rain trying to find a hotel.

Kutaisi

I arrived in this town after a brief stop in Khashuri, which had no hotels. I liked the feel of the place so decided it was worth spending a night or two.

In one of the hotels, I ended up getting very drunk with one of the owners. It was early evening, maybe 7pm, and I headed out to get something to eat, found almost everything nearby shut, except a little bakery where I got a tasty lump of doughy goodness.

When I returned to the hotel I offered the old guy some of my food as it was quite big anyway. He declined, but instead introduced a bottle of whiskey to the table, then homebrewed grappa, (or could've been vodka... verrrry strong!) we were clinking glasses for a good few hours. The Grappa (or whatever was) was so bitter it had to be chased by some homemade red wine, which still had remnants of grape left in it.

We communicated (or tried to) using something almost like sign language only much less sophisticated and used the dial of the cordless phone to enquire on ages. He was 55 - maybe trying to teach this whipper snapper how to drink! When neither of us could drink anymore we called it a night and we nodded to each other, shook hands and I clambered back up the stairs.

The next day I was feeling very fragile, which was a shame because I had a fresh Georgian breakfast cooked as soon as I slid out of bed. My friend from last night was nowhere to be seen though, so I imagine he was still out for the count.

Breakfast was a nice thick omellete(sp) followed by two huge pastries containing feta, potato and some other magic ingredient. All that washed down with as much coffee I could drink. Then I wandered down to the Otogar and spent what seemed like a lifetime getting to Batumi.

Before the journey had even started I was reintroduced to last night's celebrations - so handy that I had a plastic bag on me! That trip was not fun at all, I felt terrible throughout, feeling each turn and bump in the road.

Batumi

Batumi was another lazy city for me, as in I was not upto much when I was there, mainly due to my ringing head.

The bus let us out near the port and I went towards all the shops and before long found a small hotel round a corner and through a small arch. Think I paid 20GL for one night.
I parked my bag in the corner, poured a litre of water down my neck and laid down for a few hours.

Later on, feeling a bit brighter, I went out in search of a traditional Georgian meal. I walked a bit until there were less shops on the streets and it was generally quieter then I found a place that looked ok, with original wooden beams and medieval seating.

From the off I got the impression the woman in charge didn't have much time for me. For a start she had to run around for ages to find the one menu that had English in it, as if it was my fault they'd lost it. Then when I didn't take half a second to make my order she started tapping her foot and giving me odd non-smiling looks. Of course, I wasn't going to rush, I took my time.

I ordered veal and potatoes (maybe Georgian, I don't know, they couldn't tell me what was typical Georgian cuisine) and a beer. All in all it was good enough, but they must've kept me waiting for 45 minutes or so, didn't offer me another beer or a dessert and gave me the bill before I'd even finished my meal. The sour-faced waitress was just the icing on the cake.

After the disappointing meal I wandered around Batumi in the dark, taking one or two pictures of the impressively lit up blue church.

I called it an early night and watched some film called 'Bone Dry' - I could tell it was shit, even without hearing the dialogue. I spread out in the huge double bed and drifted off without much effort.

Then I'm woken up with a start by knocking at my door at 3 or 4am. Something told me this didn't seem right, so I left the door locked and called out 'Hello' to no response.

I'm not 100%, but I think it was a couple of guys who had come through the hotel's front entrance (which didn't actually have a door) and were knocking on people's doors, for what reason I am unsure. All I know is I'm glad I had my door locked as a few minutes later someone tried my door, all the time not a word being said. When everything quietend down I tried getting back to sleep again, but perhaps understandably this was easier said than done.

The next day I was back on my way across the border to Turkey.

I'm regretting not spending much time at all in Georgia, but I was really wanting to concentrate my time in Turkey, the East inparticular. The people I came across were mostly helpful and friendly, just as in Turkey and I would gladly go there again and spread my time out a bit more.

At the time of writing there are works ongoing for a railway line to be built from Turkey into Georgia, which I think would take a lot of the hassle out of it, but might well be less fun!

Few pictures

 

i - Trying to capture at least a feel of one of the sunsets overlooking the giant sanddrift-like hills, Mardin

ii - Out towards the endless horizon, Mardin

iii - Looking down a set of stairs inbetween the typical housing in Mardin 

iv - Down the snaking road towards the more modern part of Mardin

v - More Mardin

vi - The vast canyons near Artvin

vii - A typical Turkish set of shops and Mosque, just inside the Turkish border in the town of Hopa

Turkey

I had a good 4 days in Istanbul.

It’s the biggest city I’ve been to; numbers are in the air at 16million.

I took in some of the sights, felt largely indifferent to the main tourist spots and spent time getting lost. Besides the numbers, no other city I’ve been to has the same feel to it. Maybe it’s the relentless efforts the people go to to persuade you go to their shop or cafe – sometimes standing in your path, asking where you’re from, then pointing you to a nearby table, all in the space of 6 seconds. The way they go about it is really friendly though.

Or, maybe it’s being able to buy pretty much anything under the sun from the street markets and I mean anything. Men’s boxer shorts, taps and watches share the same table. All this is going on most hours of the day.

There are so many districts that sometimes it feels like you’re in a different city altogether. On one of the days I ventured out to the Eyup area at the tip of the Golden Horn. Here there was a different air. There were still crowds of people, the difference was that I felt like I was the only Westerner there. It was also cheaper. After spending a good few hours in the area I headed back by way of a zigzagging ferry, that went all the way back to Kadikoy, stopping alternately between one side of the river to the other.

The Grand Bazaar felt overrated. In hindsight the one in Izmir was more genuine, cheaper and had less camera-toters blocking doorways. I’m glad I spent the time to wander around it though, even if the novelty didn’t last very long.

The Spice Bazaar was good, perhaps not as much spice as you’d imagine, but I still enjoyed taking in a few lungfuls of the exotic spices, that were presented in huge sacks with quotes by the kilo.

I had a look at a couple of mosques, can’t say I was too fussed about going inside any – I mainly appreciated the architectural side.

With a friendly invitation from a small group from the hostel, I also took in some culture in the form of a couple of modern art exhibitions (Bienal something). On the whole, I enjoyed the experience. There were of course some ridiculous pieces, I’m sure the artist could justify them with pages of pretentious jargon, but that didn’t matter.

There were some real thought provoking and emotional pieces that I was glad to give my time to, whereas the video installations, on the whole didn’t really grab me.

A favourite of mine was the first-person account of a Korean soldier’s life in the US army, in the 1950s. It was a large expanse of diary-like entries with pencil drawings. It contained some of the small differences in culture, the pettiness of war and some humour thrown in.

After leaving Istanbul for the second time, I set off going East – my favourite direction at the moment.

Before finding my night train, I experienced some overwhelming kindness from one Turk.

I’d set off with an hour to spare to get my overnight train from Istanbul to Ankara and was on the ferry to bus me to the Haydarpașa train station. I was just asking the guy sat next to me if the stop we were at was indeed the right one, and in the process missed the stop.

Another guy, who spoke English, offered his help (I’m finding this to be very common in Turkey. Whenever asking for directions somewhere, or where to get a certain bus from, a small group envelopes you. Passers-by get involved and sometimes they’ll summon someone who speaks English if there is one) and after examining my train ticket it was decided that guy #1 would take me to the station himself.

It was only a 10 minute walk, but the guy was pretty insistent that he’d accompany me, so I just went along with it. Next thing I know he’s set a speedy pace, as if my train were leaving in seconds, not an hour. Along the way we passed a sweetcorn stand / trolley and he bought him and myself one, of course I wasn’t going to reject and risk offending him.

We arrived at the train station and he was asking everyone we passed where to go. He took me to the information desk, found out the platform number, took me to the train, found my carriage, got onboard with me, found my seat, put my bag in the ceiling section for me, then shook my hand, kissed me on both cheeks and went outside and watched me sit down. I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face and probably got more sustained stares than usual, but I didn’t care.

Unfortunately there were no sleeper carriages, so I was stuck in a bolt upright position all night, at least it was a single seat. I arrived in Ankara at 5am, had a walk around as the city woke up and decided I’d press on to Erzurum as I wasn’t fussed about spending the night there.

Another sleepless night and I was in Erzurum, where I was surprised at how cold it was. After walking around in search of a hotel for that night, I caught sight of some distant mountains and later on it started to snow.

Trains in Turkey are incredibly slow, getting overtaken by buses when the rails run next to the roads. Part of me appreciates this, however, as there is some spectacular scenery along the way, the other part sometimes wishes they’d clock up the miles a bit quicker.

The scenery varies vastly from grassy desolate plains to snow capped mountains. Sheep and cow herders along the way, men ploughing fields with a horse and odd clusters of men watching the day go by. Also, buying an InterRail ticket for Turkey was a waste, as besides being slow, the Turkish railways are also painfully cheap.

Along the way there were lots of tiny little settlements and villages. There were more than a few moments when I just wanted to get off the train in the middle of nowhere and walk towards one of these little villages, but I chickened out. They made me think of those old stories about a traveller in a foreign land seeking a roof for the night and finding a lonely inn in the middle of nowhere.

After spending one night in an Erzurum hotel I spent another in Kars, and from there it was the end of the Turkish rails, and onto the minibuses.

A bit of asking around the next morning and I was in a Ford Transit minibus on my way to the Turkish / Georgian border.