Update Georgia

My last report is long overdue. I simply didn't have the time to write, which is a good sign because it means I was always in good company and on the go.

*Tbilisi*

After leaving Kazbegi, I fled to Tbilisi. I must admit, I didn't have many positive things to say about my trip to the mountains. Sure, the waterfalls were really impressive. But the rest? Meh.

In Tbilisi, I had booked a room at the famous Fabrika Hostel. This 400-bed building is one of the hotspots for backpackers, as well as for many locals who enjoy their life in one of the many bars in front of the hostel. From there, I had arranged to meet the Georgian woman Tina. I waited for her in the fancy Ryke Park and passed the time with free city wide WiFi and YouTube. Out of nowhere, a Georgian man appeared, sat next to me, and looked at me with big eyes. The stress level in my body reached a maximum within seconds: "Can I help you? Otherwise leave me alone!" The man raised his eyebrows and came closer. "Leave me alone! Go away!" Once again, just a mild smile and reactions that I didn't understand. I packed my things and ran away. Tears immediately welled up in my eyes. Why am I so incompetent? Why am I so driven by fear? This shouldn't be my last little mental breakdown.

When Tina arrived, I didn't want to show her how I sometimes look at this country. I swallowed my anger, dried my tears in the wind, and took a deep breath.

The evening with Tina turned out to be really nice. We sat in the park with beer and chips and chatted about all the topics that interest twenty-something women globally: people, men, marriage, work, family, feminism, friends, globalization, politics. Five hours later, we realized that we should probably eat something soon. I left it up to my Georgian friend, who immediately said she had a great idea of where to take me for dinner.

We walked through all the beautiful corners of Tbilisi. But we didn't stop anywhere. Live piano player, candle light, bell tower, terraces. It was beautiful, but not meant for us.

At some point, we were on the eight-lane main road, and Tina was philosophizing about topics that I didn't understand because I was busy trying to navigate and figure out where she was taking me. Every 47 seconds, I just agreed with her in her stream of words, and she continued to philosophize about the big social issues of our time. And suddenly, we were there. Hofbräuhaus Tbilisi. Tina was overjoyed that she had brought a German to the German restaurant. I had to suppress my laughter. Especially when I saw the waitress in a dirndl and we ordered German beer in German from the unfriendly fake Bavarian. Despite that, it was delicious. I think Tina could have continued chatting all night, but I just wanted to go to bed at midnight. It was a successful evening that made me forget about the man in the park.

*Borjomi*

The next day, we headed to Borjomi. I was supposed to meet up with the Dutch woman Rosan again. After a brief moment of panic at the hostel, I gathered my strength and approached two guys to see if we could share a taxi to the marshrutka station. After a nice taxi ride, I sat in a swaying minibus to Borjomi for about three hours. Borjomi is known for its sulfur water, which comes from here and is sold and tastes like rotten eggs to a German palate.

When I arrived at the hostel, Rosan was already there. I settled into my room and was looking forward to going hiking in the national park with her the next day. But there was a catch. The marshrutka to Wardzia, where we had booked the next night, only ran once a day in the morning at 8 am. So, I only had the afternoon to explore Borjomi. Rosan and I convinced a 19-year-old Swiss guy from our room to join us, and we decided to walk to the hot spring pools, which were about a 4 km walk away.

The path led us along a well-paved and signposted "hiking" trail, where lazy hikers pushed past each other. It felt more like a leisurely Sunday walk in any touristy city in the world. But the path also led through an amusement park, where all the amusement rides that had been discarded in Western Europe or Russia were located. One can only speculate how many small accidents happen here.

The hot springs were only three small pools where Georgian and Russian men and a dozen screaming children were having fun. The pools were warm but also incredibly dirty. The hair was swimming from one place to another. But it didn't matter - we were happy to finally be able to splash around.

Based on the example of the hot springs, you can see how strange Trip Advisor ratings are in Georgia. Everything here has a 5 out of 5 rating. This may be because not many picky tourists hop around here and always find everything to be absolutely amazing. But it didn't surprise me, because I'm relatively easy-going and not very picky. Maybe I'm getting old... or German... they say Germans are especially good at one thing: complaining.

*Wardzia*

The next morning, we headed to Wardzia. We took the marshrutka to the next town, where we were supposed to take the next marshrutka to Wardzia. Just as we got off Bus 1, I spotted the Swiss siblings again, whom I knew from David Garedja and Kazbegi. The two of them had a rental car and gave us a ride to the village of Wardzia, where the next cave city awaited us. It was huge! And very different from David Garedja. While the latter was a bit adventurous - caves made of beige sandstone decorated with frescoes - the caves in Wardzia were much more massive. Made of gray stone, no frescoes, but many more in number and secured with handrails for the average tourist. The caves were built in the 12th century by the first female queen, Tamar, and her father, and were meant to provide shelter for 50,000 people. Today, there are still 750 caves where monks live.

On the way back, the Swiss dropped us off at our accommodation about 10 km past Wardzia. While we had initially doubted whether it was a good idea to sleep so far away, we were rewarded for our decision. We were greeted by a beautiful garden, a radiant woman, and three Georgian boys. The youngest one, no older than 12, took on the role of communicating in English with us and introduced himself as the "manager." As we later found out, he was not the woman's son, as we had assumed, but a distant acquaintance whom the woman enlisted for guest communication. After a nap, we went for a walk. Our goal was to reach a lake, but it turned out to be inaccessible. So, we sat by the cliffs overlooking the river and enjoyed the peace and quiet. After dinner at the accommodation, which included fish that I surprisingly found delicious and homemade red wine that tasted really dreadful, we planned to walk to the fortress for the sunset. Google Maps said it was a 30-minute walk.

I left my phone at home for a digital detox, and we set off on our walk. And we walked. And walked. And walked. No fortress in sight. When it started to get dark, we decided it might be better not to stray too far from the village and turned back.

It was a rural spectacle. All the hundreds of cows were walking down from the mountains to the village on their own. Completely relaxed, without any stress, they wobbled along the road with us. I still wonder how cows can be trained to do such a thing.

On the way, we noticed that the boys were following us. Always at a distance of 50 meters. We suspected they were sent to look after us. While their presence didn't bother us, it was also a bit strange. So, we waited for the boys and walked back with them for over an hour. We exchanged rap music, danced, sang, communicated with gestures, Google Translate, and had races (well, not me, but Rosan :D), and laughed a lot. Back at the accommodation, they taught us some Georgian card games that I still don't quite understand, and then it was time to go to bed at 10 o'clock, as usual. Only a few days am I awake longer than 10 or 11.

There was a young Georgian couple (or an affair?) from Tbilisi at our accommodation. Calculating as I can be, I immediately asked them to take us back towards the next marshrutka the next day. They couldn't say no, but they didn't seem very enthusiastic about the idea. That didn't matter to me.

The next day, we got into the car with the couple, and suddenly, it seemed like they didn't want to be alone. The Georgian banker, Mascha, couldn't stop talking. It was super interesting, although somewhat strange, when he told the tragically sad story of how a distant cousin was kidnapped and forced into marriage in the 1990s, and he found this story to be very, very funny. His girlfriend (affair?), who was studying "Gender and Development" in London, also hadn't heard the story before, and like us, didn't find the joke of the story really funny. Even the happy ending, where the woman eventually fell in love with the man who had pursued her with an AK-47 throughout the whole country, didn't seem very reassuring to us. Mascha was still laughing, and suddenly I could only scream "Watch out! Watch out! Watch out!" When I get excited, I always speak in German. Thank goodness, Mascha understood and hit the brakes. There was only one sheet of paper between our car and the one in front of us. Phew. That was a close call.

We reached the marshrutka to Kutaisi just five minutes before departure and arrived there three hours later.

*Kutaisi*

In Kutaisi, we had a charming double room 10 minutes and seemingly 500 meters uphill from the city center. We went out to eat with two guys who spoke poorly about the reason for our visit, the Martvili Canyon, and then quickly went back to bed.

I finally wanted to rent a car, and I thought I could do it in Kutaisi. After several phone calls, we found the last available car in Kutaisi. The plan was to drive to a lake in the area and camp there. So, we went to the market to stock up on delicious vegetables. With full bags, we went to Star Hostel to get the car. Empty clueless eyes awaited us at the reception. The man knew nothing about a car and didn't have one. What? Plans: shattered in 1 minute.

Since we still wanted to go to the Martvili Canyon, we took the next marshrutka and curbed to the canyon in a crowded bus, where we managed to get the last two seats. Next to us was a Dutch couple who had similar expectations of the canyon as we did, and we had heard that there was a swimming spot that was supposed to be even more beautiful than the rest.

The Martvili Canyon was indeed beautiful, but with the masses of female visitors posing for their Instagram husbands in various positions, it was exhausting to enjoy the park. So crowded!

So, we set off in search of the swimming spot. We found it quite quickly, and it was beautiful. But the water was freezing cold. We spent about three hours at the swimming spot and sunned our bellies.

Back in Kutaisi, we made plans with the couple to share a taxi the next day to the lake we had originally wanted to go to.

The next morning was very, very slow. It took a long time for the Dutch couple to arrive at the agreed-upon café. When they finally arrived, they ordered breakfast leisurely. Rosan didn't mind, but it made me a little restless. We wanted to be back at 6 pm at the lake, which was a 1.5-hour drive away. We were ready to go just after 1 o'clock. We quickly realized that it wouldn't be worth taking a taxi there and hoping to get a taxi back in time. In addition, the taxi ride would have cost a lot - 20 euros per person. I was really frustrated! But since we still wanted to go to the Martvili Canyon, we took the next marshrutka and made our way there. Beside us sat a Dutch couple who had similar expectations of the canyon. We had heard that there was a swimming spot that was supposed to be even more beautiful than the rest.

The Martvili Canyon was indeed beautiful, but with the masses of female visitors posing for their Instagram husbands in various positions, it was exhausting to enjoy the park. So crowded!

We went in search of the swimming spot. We found it quite quickly, and it was beautiful. But the water was freezing cold. We spent about three hours at the swimming spot and sunned our bellies.

Back in Kutaisi, we made plans with the couple to share a taxi the next day to the lake we had originally wanted to go to.

The next morning was very, very slow. It took a long time for the Dutch couple to arrive at the agreed-upon café. When they finally arrived, they ordered breakfast leisurely. Rosan didn't mind, but it made me a little restless. We wanted to be back at 6 pm at the lake, which was a 1.5-hour drive away. We were ready to go just after 1 o'clock. We quickly realized that it wouldn't be worth taking a taxi there and hoping to get a taxi back in time. In addition, the taxi ride would have cost a lot - 20 euros per person. I was really frustrated! But since we still wanted to go to the Martvili Canyon, we took the next marshrutka and made our way there.

We arrived at the canyon and were immediately surrounded by hoards of women. We paid the entrance fee and entered the park. The canyon was very crowded, with tons of people taking pictures and swimming in the crystal clear water. We spent a few hours exploring the area, but it was not as enjoyable as we had hoped.

*Tbilisi*

In Tbilisi, we had two more nights to sleep before I headed to Yerevan.

Back at the Fabrika Hostel, we decided to go out and visit the famous techno club Bassiani. Rosan had never been to a techno club before and was excited to have a new experience. Although most of the club was closed during the summer and only a small room was open, I really enjoyed it. The music was great! And all the attention we attracted from men was directed towards the blonde and beautiful Rosan. Too bad for her, great for me. I could dance. And I did.

Unfortunately, Rosan didn't enjoy the club as much as I did. After an hour, we left Bassiani, and I would have been fine with leaving. There's nothing worse than when only one of the two people is having fun. However, Rosan wanted to go back in. She just wanted one very fundamental question explained: "How do you dance to this music?" I explained to her that you can explore different movements because everything goes and nothing looks stupid on techno. The second round at Bassiani lasted another hour. Then we went home.

Unfortunately, we couldn't extend our stay at Fabrika and had to move. It was incredibly hot in Tbilisi. What could be better to do in this weather than go to the sauna? Right, many things! But we went anyway and planned to try out the hot sulfur baths. First, we tried the public Bathhouse No. 5, where the locals also go.

And there we were, naked in a 30m2 room with 15 Georgian women standing under the hot water from the hoses, washing themselves. One woman was dyeing her hair, the next one was being peeled, and another one was shaving. One woman was even scrubbing her genitals until every pore was clean (there must have been a lot of dirt because she had a lot to scrub). While Rosan stood under the shower with wide eyes, observing the scene, I fled. Just as I don't want to be observed while scrubbing and shaving my genitals, I also didn't want to stand in the room like a voyeur and observe. On the way out, I was approached by a very blond tourist in a football jersey who asked if I was a prostitute and if he could book me. Oops. Slightly traumatized by the bathing experience and the encounter with the creepy man blocking my path, I sat in the park and waited for Rosan.

Shortly after, she arrived. She only understood me a little bit, but she found the bathing experience incredibly interesting and enjoyed the conversations with the women between the ages of 20 and 80. She suggested that we could now go to another bathhouse and rent a private room there, where we would also get a traditional massage. To do her a favor, I agreed. I myself didn't really feel like getting wet again. Thank goodness I did. It was really nice. For 10 euros per person, we had a room with a bath, toilet, waiting room, and shower on about 50m2 for ourselves, as well as a five-minute massage, which included exfoliation and lathering. Truly an experience.

After a walk through the botanical garden, I wanted to show Rosan the restaurant that I had discovered by chance last time I was searching for an exhibition. The path led us past Mother Georgia and along the rooftops of Tbilisi. After 45 minutes of hiking, we arrived. Closed doors. Bummer!

But there was another great restaurant nearby, and a pub that sold the most bitter cider I've ever had.

A successful last evening for our little travel group and our last day in Tbilisi.

To be continued... in Armenia.