Don Curry is taking a (almost) break

During his first trips, Don Curry always planned a day without any itinerary: a recreation day or Sabbath day or buffer day or simply a lazy day. Especially during camping trips, which were at the beginning of his tourist career, such a day made a lot of sense to finally enjoy the amenities of the campsite or to be able to cook something more elaborate. Besides, it just felt good to take a break in the middle of the journey.

Don Curry spontaneously planned such a day for today. Take a break from traveling around. The weather forecast sounded devastating: continuous rain all day long. Besides, Don Curry consciously rented a vacation rental with a washing machine. It should be used today.

So the day began with filling and starting the washing machine. While it was doing its job, Don Curry had time to work on the latest reports. But at some point, he got a little bored. The machine was finished, the laundry was hung up, and the rain had just paused.

Don Curry read in the travel guide about the Green Monastery near Borjomi; not really artistically significant, but beautifully located. Decisively, he took a break from the break and drove south to the monastery. The last part of the route led 1.5 km over a washed-out forest path through a narrow canyon, a good opportunity to test Xerra's off-road capabilities. However, Don Curry had to walk the very last part of the way on foot.

Finally, he stood before the Green Monastery. The monastery itself doesn't have any green coloring, but it is located in a lush green environment: right next to a roaring stream and surrounded on all sides by deep forest. Don Curry discovered a special feature in the bell tower: there was a showcase with the skulls of former monks. Here, too, one could light prayer candles and certainly pray for the long-deceased monastery residents.

After this little outdoor excursion, Don Curry's appetite awakened. Among the restaurant recommendations by his landlady Nino in Borjomi was the restaurant 'Metropol', which is located in a side wing of the train station. Upon entering, Don Curry immediately recognized the typical flair of a Soviet-style restaurant. Neatly arranged tables with fine white tablecloths, all chairs adorned with delicate yellow covers, and everything set with dishes, glasses, and cutlery as if the entire restaurant would soon be full of guests. However, at this time, Don Curry was the only one who wanted to eat here. The waitress handed him a 'Photo Menu', as she said; a thick photo album with 2 photographs of dishes on each page, accompanied by a number indicating the price, no further description or even the name of the dish. So Don Curry had to choose what he wanted to eat based on purely visual criteria. He selected a photo of a bowl filled with meat in a red sauce. He had read about a typical Georgian dish called Chakhokhbili, a delicious dish of fried chicken parts in a spicy tomato-onion sauce. When he asked the waitress what dish was pictured in the photo, she simply replied 'Chicken'. Don Curry also ordered bread and beer and waited to see what would come.

Unfortunately, the 'Metropol' restaurant also corresponded in another respect to the gastronomy establishments of the Soviet era: the outward noble appearance was more important than the culinary performance. Even the bread seemed stale like from the previous day. The beer arrived with almost no foam in an anonymous glass that provided no indication of the beer brand. The main course consisted of some extremely crispy chicken parts in a thick, almost ketchup-like mass, and that mass was cold. Don Curry is not sure if maybe there is a summer version of this dish where the tomato sauce is actually supposed to be cold, or if the microwave in the kitchen was simply broken. Furthermore, the poultry pieces contained so many bones and joints that his plate seemed almost fuller at the end than the bowl before. Don Curry decided: he would never eat here again. Half hungry, he returned to his apartment and continued his day off.

The increasing hunger forced him out of his apartment again in the evening. This time he chose the hotel restaurant 'My House'. This visit immediately reconciled him with Georgian cuisine. Here he received an English menu, could order his beloved tomato-cucumber salad with walnut dressing again, and also a dish that rarely appears on menus: Afxazura, a mixed minced meat roll filled with Georgian herbs and wrapped in a pork net to be fried very crispy afterwards; as the perfect side dish, the young waitress recommended 'French Fries'; that wasn't Georgian, but it fit really well. Don Curry also treated himself to two glasses of red wine and a Borjomi water. And he stated: his best meal in Borjomi so far.

Overall, a successful day had developed: with a lot of rest and a little sightseeing. Tomorrow, Don Curry thought, tomorrow it can be the other way around again...