My night on the coast passed very peacefully leaving me rested and alert for the crazy driving in Batumi, one of Georgia's three largest cities and containing a developed area of modern high rise office blocks, hotels and apartments that looked rather like Salford Quays and Manchester when viewed from the Pennines. I had passed an imposing war memorial and diverted out to the lighthouse adjacent to a cemetery where many of the graves had images of the deceased engraved - an interesting way to remember lost loved ones.
My destination for the night was the remarkable New Chateau Chkaduashi north of Zugdidi where I had stopped briefly to call at the Tourist Information Centre where the friendly lady spoke good English and gave me ten leaflets covering the various regions of Georgia which had more than adequate maps and lists of places to see.
P4N reviews of the park up made references to The Prince and the associated history of the property so I was somewhat intrigued. On arrival a large German Overlander truck had just pulled up and a guy said ' le patron' would be back in an hour or so before leaving us to set up. I moved on to close cropped grass for a better view and more privacy before getting my table and a chair out to begin poring over the new leaflets.
In due course an elderly gentleman turned up and introduced himself as Prince Alain Murat. He was French born but his family, of some nobility and related to Napoleon had come to Georgia decades ago to establish a large estate with a palace in Zuguidi and this building which was the hunting lodge. However they had had to flee to France when the Soviets invaded and lived in exile for thirty years. Alain eventually returned but the palace remained in state hands so he relocated to the lodge which was in advanced disrepair and has spent many years bringing it back to life and turning it in to both a home and visitor accommodation. All this and more was learnt during a couple of hours that evening when he invited the German couple and myself over to the house for drinks and nibbles. It was a surreal evening and he was proud to show us room after room of historical and not so ancient artefacts relating to his ancestral family and the more direct offspring who live in Geneva and Ottawa.
After a very peaceful night I filled up with water before heading off after another conversation with Alain and his wife - such fascinating people.
My first destination was the vast Enguri dam that provides 45% of Georgia's power needs and was built in Soviet times. It is of a twin arch design which can flex 15cm depending on water levels and then feeds 4 turbines further down the valley but these, the pipes and other turbines lower down all actually lie in the breakaway area of Abkhazia which offers some hope for a reconciliation one day. From Alain's terrace we could see the glow of lights from a large Russian military base and indeed the border lay less than fifty miles away high on the ridges of the Caucasus range.
I paid a few quid to walk over to the viewing platform with a bored ticket seller directing me to a bored ticket checker who then directed me to two bored security guards, all rather pointless. However it was a remarkable sight and in an adjacent building a slightly more engaged young man set up the video with an English commentary for a good insight in to the construction and operation of the scheme. In rooms below there was also an exhibition by a local artist of some remarkable 3D portraits with clever masks made of stainless steel mesh mounted on painted canvases.
My route lay north in to the mountainous Svaneti region tucked under the border mountains and characterised by numerous small villages, many containing the defensive Svaneti towers dating back to the Middle Ages. These were sprawled out across the widening valley floor reached after a hair raising thirty miles on the worst 'main' road I have ever driven. Landslides and rockfalls regularly interrupted progress and landslips had left many sections down to rough single track with precipitous drops just beyond the lines of stones placed on the thin edges. It was very wintery up there and all the livestock were free ranging over the road to add to the hazard, whilst the torrential river began as we left the calmer headwaters of the Enguri reservoir behind.
I tried to stay in a rural park up in the village of Mazeri but several feet of snow put paid to that and I carried on through numerous small rather sorry looking hamlets
P4N sent me out of Mestia to a potential location outside of town adjacent to the closed ski lift but in the end I returned to town and parked up opposite the police station by a small park. I took a walk round amazed that such a large place, although perhaps more of a village could survive at the end of such a long and tortuous road : there had been very little traffic other than timber lorries from the numerous mills situated precariously on the occasional flat area in the steep gorge.
I decided to eat out for a change so tried a small restaurant that had a cosy stove going and enjoyed a vegetable based starter and then the local speciality, an enormous round flat bread covered in and stuffed with cheese, served piping hot. This needed a local beer to wash it down but still left me partially defeated. I had a quiet night as the area is between its skiing and hiking seasons as the winter snows melt. There were huge dirty grey drifts piled up around town as the same snowfall that had hit Turkey a fortnight ago had added a late covering to the area. I went to see if the chairlift up to the ski lift was running but both were now closed so I explored the backstreets, did a small shop and then headed out past the small airport to follow the muddy and increasingly snowy dirt track up towards the walk to the Chalaadi Glacier. As there was a choice of good spots just off the track and above the river I decided to park the van, don my boots and head off. I left the Bluetooth speaker playing, closed all curtains, left an old pair of shoes outside and set the alarmed padlocks on the bike cover. Ninety minutes later I reached a new hydro station and then started on the path through the snowy pine forest to the glacier another ninety minutes further on. A young Turkish couple had said they'd had to turn back after half an hour as the snow was so deep but their tennis shoes can't have helped either. I slipped and slithered over the deep snow which obviously covered a boulder field as I went in up to my waist several times. Eventually I reached the raging torrent where the couple had turned round and battled on for another hour before deciding in the absence of any other footprints that further progress would be foolhardy. Yellow and white marks normally at waist height on trees were at or beneath snow level so I knew I was on the path but the glacier snout was still a mile or so away. I retraced my route cautiously and was glad to get back to the track safely. Three young Georgians were also setting out in unsuitable footwear so I explained the challenge that lay ahead and wished them well.
Back at the van as dusk fell it was getting chilly so I fired up the Ever, grabbed a hot shower and was in bed by 8pm.
After sleeping a straight twelve hours I was woken by gunfire and with no explanation other than possibly some training exercise by the military outpost down at the airport I had breakfast and was away to Mestia once more. Europe 's highest permanently occupied village up at Ushguili another thirty miles away on an apparently terrible road was put to one side and after buying bread I decided to retrace my steps out of this harsh environment. Almost immediately I saw a young guy hitch hiking with a large rucksack so pulled over. Vlad spoke excellent English and had just finished working as a snow board instructor for the season which had just finished, hence the lift closure. The late snow fall had not extended the season as it was too soft and he said it had been a mild winter with only one normal week back in February when temperatures remained at -25.
We chatted generally although with heavy rain I was concentrating intently on the atrocious road surface as fresh rocks had come down and the largest potholes were obscured by surface water. He explained that most goods and produce were flown in as Tbilisi was only a half hour flight away. It felt intrusive to ask about the situation in his home country (Ukraine) as I guess he would be like many of his generation be conflicted about joining up to fight, after all what would you do ..... honestly??
He was heading to Tbilisi via Zuguidi so I dropped him off at Poti as I was turning inland and we were immediately approached by a feisty old Georgian lady who wanted a lift in to the next village. I duly obliged and was amused when an errant steer wandered in to the road and she realised she didn't have any controls, despite sitting on the left.
I'd noticed a lot of Delicia 4x4 imports in the villages, presumably secondhand from Japan as many were RHD and like a large numbers of local vehicles missing front and rear bumpers.
After letting her out I continued on to find a riverside park up for the night where I was immediately adopted by two stray dogs who wolfed down two of the jam filled rolls I'd inadvertently picked up in the shop. Just along the track was a derelict former Soviet state farm and next morning a guy came over and insisted on showing me round and indicating that I could stay there on his meadow for no charge. However I thanked him and carried on to to Tskaltubo a former Soviet spa town where the now collapsing formerly elegant spas house displaced migrants from the dispute in Askhabia.
The Martivelli canyon hosted an unnecessary rash of cafes and souvenir stalls on the walk down to a beautiful limestone gorge where when the water levels are lower rafting is possible. A zip wire passed overhead and excursions by 4x4 were on offer to other gorges and cascades, all part of Georgia's push to develop its tourism sector which will inevitably spoil naturally beautiful areas.
The monastery at Martivelli was an oasis of calm and spring growth with the church containing stunning if faded frescoes after which I headed north to the large Prometheus cave only discovered in 1984 but now artificially lit, accessed by concrete steps with handrails and again supporting a large interpretation centre with attendant cafes and the like. However the visit itself was well worth it with over a kilometre of well decorated passages including 3 vast chambers. A 200m exit tunnel had been blasted out to the location of a hotel from where we were bussed under half a mile back to the car park. Hey ho, I guess it gives less capable people a chance to experience something rather special and provides employment locally.
I took the opportunity to give the van a good spray of pest killer as since my spell on the Chateau lawn I had had a significant invasion of ants and hoped that the closed doors for a few hours would do the trick.
I moved on back in to the mountains taking the road over to the Racha - Lechkhumi valley with a small side valley entrance route providing a good overnight location by a fast flowing river with surprisingly good 4G cover. Vlad had suggested Azerbaijan has closed all land borders since COVID and whilst that threat has receded there are still disputes over Nagorno Karabakh and Nakchivan keeping them closed so I will need to replan some of the trip. In fact it will help as Georgia obviously has more than enough to occupy me for a month, Armenia will take at least two weeks and then 4 weeks or so across Turkey will see me able to return to Europe by crossing in to Greece after June 9th.
Today has been a bit wet and cold as I followed the valley eastwards passing through Tsageri and Ambrolauri stopping at a particularly attractive church with yet more frescoes, golden icons and a superb wooden screen : the rather severe looking and silent monk sat almost invisibly in a corner deterred me from taking any photos inside.
I reached the head of the valley and the snowline once more before dropping back a little to my current location, off and above the very quiet road with the heater on and a good book to read. My first week has been memorable largely due to the huge contrast between the high snow covered mountain valleys and the warmer climates to the south to which I return to tomorrow with a possible visit to the city of Kutaisi for a culture shock......