Georgia Day 1 and 2

Wrote, printed, submitted master's thesis, made a brief visit to the Egypt exchange, and off we went. While I am always super prepared and know where I want to go on almost all of my trips, this time I had absolutely no idea what I wanted to see and do.

At the airport, the group was welcomed to Kutaisi with Georgian friendliness... not. A cold Eastern European wind greeted us in the queue. I was lucky, I had done everything right: passport ready, checked in, luggage securely fastened. Those who had not fulfilled the expectations of the flight crew for any of these points were reprimanded. Eye-rolling, raising their voices, and dismissive hand gestures were included.

Arriving in Kutaisi, I hopped into the first marshrutka that took me and 8 other Germans to the Vagabond Hostel. A room full of Germans. As German backpackers know, there is hardly anything more creepy than meeting your fellow countrymen in foreign countries in droves.

Two relaxed Turkish men showed us the hostel, which consisted of three interconnected 12-bed rooms. So I was practically in a 36-bed dorm. And you could hear that. One person was always rummaging around, one person was laughing, one person was sleeping, whether it was 8 am, 2 pm, or in the middle of the night. After two nights, there was no doubt that I did not want to stay here. In addition, there was a very nice but slightly intrusive hostel guy who sat next to me on the terrace on the first evening and put his hand on his pulse to show me how excited I made him (his pulse was completely normal... when I am excited and impressed by someone, my veins bubble at a completely different speed). From then on, the good man at the hostel was always by my side... when I entered a room where he was, he kept looking at me and smiling. If I didn't immediately smile back, he would say "I know you don't like me..." and wait for me to answer "No, no, sure I like you. You are nice." Oh dear.

But now back to the gossip, towards the country and its people:

Day 1 started with a visit to the local indoor market. Huge. Incredibly huge. Super fresh. Picture-perfect vegetables. I equipped myself with fruits and vegetables for just a few cents. After being persuaded more or less by accident to buy about 15 chutchuchela, the first nature tour started. We went to the Prometheus Caves by marshrutka. In the bus, the German radar of another girl and me immediately went off. The girl approached me and we spent the tour together. The Prometheus Caves are incredibly beautiful. A beautifully and colorfully illuminated network of corridors where stalagmites and stalactites have been trying to meet and merge for x years (a number with many zeros). Amazing! My camera's automatic mode was thrilled to have the simple task of producing great pictures in this setting.

Back in Kutaisi, the girl with the name starting with N, which I forgot, and I arranged to have dinner together. We went to a great restaurant, very European, a bit more expensive for Georgia. But lovingly furnished. I was slowly warming up to the country.

Back at the hostel, I unpacked the wine I bought at the caves in a cola bottle and drank the thick and sweet dark red wine with two girls in the room, which was surprisingly delicious and made the Georgian guy with 3 golden teeth have a golden smile on his face.

The girls, as well as the others in the room, agreed: Kutaisi is not beautiful. People are unfriendly, nothing is happening. And even though I really liked the day, I also had to say that I only found things "European" beautiful, new, young, and modern. The rest was tedious. No one spoke English in the small town, no one smiled, there was a heaviness in the air and a dissatisfaction of the people. A conversation with Alex, the 37-year-old Georgian who spoke German, confirmed this. He told me about dissatisfaction in the country, youth unemployment, the constant struggle of everyday life.

Well then. Away from Kutaisi. I decided to visit Gori. The birthplace of Stalin. I wasn't interested in Stalin or the museum dedicated to him, and my interest in the military museum is rather negative. However, what determined the choice of Gori as the next destination was the nearby cave city that I wanted to visit.

Day 2 was supposed to be a trip to Gori. But first, I wanted to visit the Katshki Pillar. It took 1.5 hours by marshrutka over mountain serpentine roads to reach the stone. Apart from me, there were no tourists, cool! At the corner of the trail that led to the high stone where a monk lives in a small monastery, the driver kicked me out. The rest of the passengers continued to Tschiatura. So I started walking. Proudly walking 2 km, which, however, caused a solid muscle ache due to the immense changes in altitude. I stayed at the monastery for about 1 hour and enjoyed the tranquility before running back to the road, where I hoped to catch a marshrutka to Tschiatura. After about 30 minutes of waiting by the roadside, a minibus finally arrived. Full. He couldn't take me and I figured that the next bus would probably only come in an hour. So there was the first change of plans. I took the next marshrutka back to Kutaisi. The marshrutka driver lovingly fastened my seatbelt like a grandfather, and I immediately fell asleep in the cozy rocking bus. Even though it was a lot of bus riding for 1 hour of monastery watching, I would say it was worth it.

On the same evening, I took the next bus. With all my belongings, I found out that the bus to Gori would make a stop on the highway and that you would have to continue from there by taxi. So I informed the bus driver to stop there.

At the bus stop, a young Georgian woman smiled at me. The first smile of a Georgian (although the bus driver who fastened my seatbelt was cute in a way, but he didn't smile). On a human level, the woman already saved my day. She asked me directly if I wanted to sit next to her and we had a good conversation. Tina lives in Tbilisi and explained Georgia to me: the generational differences, the war, the Russians, the economy. Even though I didn't always completely understand her, I slowly got a feeling for the country. It was a stroke of luck. After 2.5 hours of serpentine driving, we both fell asleep. I woke up... just past Gori. The bus driver had not stopped. Tina was very upset. They discussed in Georgian what to do with me. The bus driver stopped at a gas station and told me to take a taxi from there. Tina and a woman in the front row thought this was a very bad idea and tried to persuade me not to wait at a gas station for a taxi that might never show up. Instead, I should continue to Tbilisi. Alright then.

Next change of plans. I canceled Gori and booked a hostel in the capital. Dear Tina practically took me to the hostel, bought my bus tickets, talked to bus drivers, and made sure that I didn't miss the desired destination again.

Welcome to Tbilisi! A new orientation is now required!