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Tbilisi - Mtskheta

פֿאַרעפֿנטלעכט: 21.06.2019

On Monday morning, June 17, 2019, the sun once again drives me out of the tent. So I indulge in some honeydew melon around eight o'clock, before I dismantle our camp at the foot of the medieval fortress ruins above Borjomi. Rango has to do without breakfast. The beef heart, which he has been refusing to eat for the past two days, and which I have been carrying around longer than I would have liked, has found another taker overnight. I'm fine with that. Shortly after nine, we start our descent into the town and I return to a small café with wifi in the city center for Khachapuri and a hot drink. After enjoying the shady spot for a while, we make another detour to the historical park of Borjomi. Rango is allowed to guard our luggage outside under a tree while I take a look at the park. In addition to plenty of drinking water sources, there are some food stalls and rides, it feels like a fairground in some places. As the sky darkens, I decide to retreat to the train station for now. In the cool hall, I write a travel report before I treat myself to a coffee and some Gata (sweet puff pastry) in the afternoon. Shortly before half past four, we are on the train to Tbilisi. Iris from Freiburg keeps me company during the journey. She is a teacher at a middle school and is on vacation. The 4-hour train ride is quite enjoyable, the woman went on a world trip a year ago and we get along quite well. Originally, I planned to camp near Mtskheta again. But as luck would have it, Mehran, whom I know from Yerevan, is in Tbilisi right now and was able to book a cheap bed for me in the same hostel. Shower, washing machine, bed,... that doesn't sound bad either. So in the evening, Mehran welcomes us in the old town near the main train station around half past nine. I settle into my sleeping place, take a shower, put on my going-out clothes, and make my way to the FabricHostel nearby with my Kurdish friend and Rango. Mehran has been invited by a group of cyclists. The illustrious group includes a few Berliners, two French people, and a couple from New Zealand. The next few hours fly by, and after I had a long chat with Emmanuelle around midnight, I go to bed around three o'clock.

Nevertheless, on Tuesday morning, I am one of the first to peel myself out of the sheets in the surprisingly quiet 10-person dorm. I greet Rango in the hostel garden (the chubby one has to sleep outside) and then have a leisurely breakfast. Rango also enjoys his meal, he must be hungry. Then I revise a travel article, post it online, and then read a bit. Around eleven, Mehran, Rango, and I go for a walk in the old town. We treat ourselves to Gata and coffee and meander back to the BudeHostel. I hardly walked around in the neighborhood of Tbilisi during my last visit. The streets are mostly made up of two-story blocks, most of them in bad condition. Only on the main streets is the renovation status slightly higher and the sacral buildings are in good condition, of course. I relax in the hostel for the rest of the day. In the late evening, we (the two French people, Mehran, Rango, and I) discover a secret tip for good ice cream. It didn't disappoint, the bedtime treat was very tasty.

For Wednesday, June 19, 2019, I have planned to continue my journey to Baku. The train departs in the evening around half past eight, I already know that. In order to buy a ticket, I go to the train station with Rango in the morning. At the ticket counter, I am referred to an information phone, the cashier is overwhelmed with Rango. The information lady on the other end of the line doesn't really know either. They advise me to inquire about Rango with the train staff half an hour before departure. Not exactly the result I was hoping for from my visit to the train station, but at least something. On the way back, we are then attacked by three angry stray dogs. With the help of some locals, we manage to get the situation under control without any injuries. Then I settle the hostel bill at noon, pack my stuff, and take a little nap. In the afternoon, I take another walk with Rango in the neighborhood, treat myself to another delicious ice cream, and organize a small dinner. Rango also enjoys the rest of his chicken thighs. We are about to check out when the youngest child (around 3 years old) of the hostel owners appears and wants to pet Rango. Rango is not happy about it and growls at the boy. I tell the little one to go away, but apparently I can't make myself understood. When the boy tries to touch the chubby one again, Rango snaps at him. At first glance, nothing happened, everything is fine. I move Rango a bit away and try to calm the child down. No chance. And so the drama unfolds. The mother calls some people while I show Rango's vaccination record to the relatively relaxed grandma (who had approved our stay and always been very happy with the calm, relaxed dog). She takes photos of the vaccinations. Due to the rather hysterical reaction of the mother (by now the boy has a bruise on his finger), I decide not to provide my ID for photos. I have a bad feeling about it. The other hostel guests also see it the same way. As it turns out in a conversation with an Englishman, the boy had apparently been spraying water and bothering Rango throughout the day, while the chubby one, taking advantage of the entire length of the leash on the other side of the fence, tried to keep his distance. It's annoying that I didn't notice, I might have taken Rango's warnings more seriously, assessed the situation better, and forcefully kept the child away from the chubby one if necessary. Be that as it may, it should not have happened even without that. Unfortunately, I have to leave then, my train is leaving soon. I accompany part of the family to the vet around the corner, apparently they don't trust the vaccination record. Even my comment "No blood, no infection!" does not help to calm them down. Only the nurse seems to see it similarly. But there's no use. Then I go to the train station. As it turns out a few days later, it was a good decision. Shortly after that, an uncle of the child apparently showed up at the hostel with a big baseball bat. I have no idea whether he wanted to hit Rango, me, or both of us. Creepy. At the train station, the expected announcement comes, I have to book a whole compartment. I quickly approach another tourist, coincidentally also from good old Germany. She is traveling with a friend who is buying tickets right now. They booked a 2-person cabin, but are willing to switch. According to the train staff, it is not possible. So I go to the ticket counter, get a ticket, and wait... Unfortunately, I wait too long, when it's my turn, there are only about 10 minutes left until departure and they refuse to sell me a ticket. I also have no luck at the train and the train leaves without us. Stupid. Since I'm no longer a welcome guest at the BudeHostel, I take the metro to Didube train station and wait for a marshrutka to take me to Mtskheta. There, I arrive at the familiar camping site around eleven o'clock and retreat to bed after a quick wash.

On Thursday morning, I go to the town for breakfast and am promptly recognized by the supermarket staff while shopping. Even some of the teenagers I chatted with a year ago greet me friendly. Crazy. Then I go to a café with wifi for an espresso and play around a bit. Around noon, we march back to the tent, I take a bath in the Aragvi River, and rinse my laundry. In the late afternoon, I plan to go to the train station in Tbilisi, book a cabin, and find some fellow travelers. Until then, there is still some time to doze off and shave. Around half past four, we gather our things and head to the bus stop. In the next two hours, I have no luck, about 8 to 10 bus drivers refuse to take Rango. In the meantime, there is plenty of time to think. Besides the fear of not having enough time for Central Asia before the onset of winter, there is nothing that speaks against slowing down my journey again. Fear is a bad advisor, tomorrow I will start hiking again. Feels good to make the decision, all the driving around in recent times has started to get on my nerves a bit. Let's see where I'm going. So I settle into our campsite for another night, take another bath, and retreat to the nest with the chubby one.

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