Last few days in Georgia

Continuing the descent from Mestia in the High Caucasus meant following the rushing waters of the Enguri river, grey and swollen with meltwater. I remembered it being a poor road surface with precarious overhanging cliffs and sections of landslide but with no snow and the trees in leaf it didn't feel as daunting as last year. Tiny villages clung to the valley sides and a number of sawmills occupied any flat areas. Eventually though the headwaters of the Enguri reservoir tamed the flow and a huge floating mass of lumber offcuts occupied the calmer waters. Below the eponymous dam I found a cracking park up alongside the river reached initially by a short steep rocky section of track but soon becoming a flat grassy series of meadows with seclusion and privacy. A few cows wandered by and later an old guy brought his grandson down for some fishing but otherwise I had the place to myself.

In Zugdidi on a baking hot day I parked up to visit the Dadiani Palaces and Botanical Gardens that had historic connections to Napoleon and more recently Prince Murat who I had stayed with last year. Both buildings were full of history and artefacts surrounding their past and that of the wider area whilst the large gardens provided much needed shade.

When I got back to the van I decided the city centre parking was a bit exposed for an overnight so pushed on towards a truck stop near Poti. This also didn't feel right and was by a busy road so I carried on out to the coast further south, took a long sandy dead end of a track out to the shoreline and was soon parked right on the Black Sea's edge with the city of Batumi glowing some 50 odd miles further south. 

Apart from a couple of fishermen on the adjacent lagoon there was no one about and a good onshore breeze kept things pleasantly cool. I was surprised to notice blue and red strobes at about 01.30 as the police drove by and turned round but they didn't bother stopping and it was an otherwise peaceful night.

Information from Salvo and Sylvie persuaded me to alter my plans slightly and head in to Turkey via Vale rather than the much busier Sarpi crossing which takes all the trucks and other vehicles from the main coast road. Thus I headed inland to stop at Camp Itara north of Ozurgeti which is run by a family of German expats. They allow people to stay in their large garden with plenty of space and shade, a very good shower facility and access to a washing machine with a campers kitchen available as well. I spotted the German couple from a couple of weeks ago in the valley below the Chkumi monastery and parked up nearby for a catch up. The whole set up was very well organised and relaxing so I dealt with the laundry, cleaned out the van and planned my onwards progress. A huge German MAN 4x4 truck pulled in the following day and yet again I could only imagine the limitations and frustrations of such a huge rig most of the time.

Heading off after two nights I made my way east again passing Samtredia, filling up with diesel and then south of Kutaisi turning south for Baghdati and the mountains of the Lower Caucasus which lie between Georgia and Turkey. After a decent road as far as the spa resort of Sairme I began the 20 odd kilometre climb along a forestry track to the Zekari Pass. As the trees thinned out the track became rougher and included numerous sharp hairpins before at above 2,000m the clouds obscured the view at a point where a local shepherd had his humble dwelling. After a few more foggy kilometres and another 200m of ascent I reached flat ground at the top of the pass with visibility well under a 100m. There was a picnic shelter and I could hear a few voices coming out of the mist from various directions so chose a level spot and parked up. It was too foggy to see anything other than close by and at one point a minibus crawled by heading up the grassy slope. Later on a shepherd appeared on horse back and seemed to indicate things would clear up overnight so I settled in, fired up the heater and with no internet connection, devoured a couple of books. At one point the well strung out group of mountain bikers I had passed on the ascent reached the col and were grabbing a break under the shelter and looking out in to the gloom - they faced a long cold descent but were in good spirits. They were all from various cities in India and were on a 14 day visit to Georgia for the mountain biking and had a young Georgian guide with them.

After a bit of thunder and lightning overnight things did clear up first thing and I could see the minibus had only continued on another couple of hundred metres to where half a dozen tents were set up. The views were remarkable with 2,500m peaks towering above cloud filled valleys and bright green slopes leading up to their beckoning summits. I packed sandwiches and a drink and set off in the hope of reaching Didimaghala but what had looked like a steep grassy slope turned out to be knee high dwarf rhododendron that was impossible to pass through safely as the branches were so intertwined. I was reminded of my last encounter with the full sized stuff on Goat Fell on Aran that had nearly ended badly.

As the clouds had gathered in again and another thunderstorm was brewing I headed back to the van and was passed by another group of mountain bikers just as the heavens opened so was as always grateful for the heater.

Monday dawned bright and sunny with fantastic views, especially to the north where the snow clad summits of the High Caucasus shimmered in the distance. Overlooking the astronomy complex  on the way to Abastumani to the south I stopped for a quick reconnection with the internet before starting down a sinuous track that eventually reached some very basic shepherds dwellings. After these the track became much steeper and for an hour or so I drove with baited breath as the route became much rougher with washed out gullies, rock strewn hairpins and glutinous muddy stretches - I later found out that the route had been closed by snow until three weeks previously. Landslides and very narrow sections added to the mix and whilst I met the odd 4x4 heading up I was concerned that if I couldn't get past it would be nigh on impossible to turn round let alone retrace my steps. However after a final tricky section where the van performed beyond any reasonable expectation I reached tarmac with huge relief. Outside Abastumani which is a popular spa resort I filled up with water from a small spring and then dropped down to Akhaltsikhe. A rather dodgy looking LPG outfit filled two 907 cylinders for a fiver in total before I parked up by a lake on the edge of town, unfortunately with no shade but at least there was a decent breeze. 

We had visited the huge castle last year so I was content with a look round the town, an ice cream in the park and later a walk round the lake with a number of locals. People were out till late on a barmy evening but no one troubled me and I slept through until a couple of delivery vans arrived early to redistribute parcels and packages.

After filling up to use most of my final lari I drive the few miles to Vale and the Turkish border a few miles beyond that. A modest line of HGVs were passed and I presented my passport at Georgian control. A slightly grumpy customs guy insisted I remove the bike cover to reveal.......... a bike, but then stamped me out and I was then presenting my documents to the Turkish officials. They had a quick look round and then directed me to the vehicle import booth. Here I was asked for my insurance and as I needed to buy it the friendly lass told me to leave the van, walk out to the sigurta office and then bring my policy documents back. To exit I had to leave my passport at the final barrier but then the insurance guy said he needed to photograph it and they only took cash. So back to the van it was for my stash of lire but this time I left the barrier guy an old driving licence as security and before long had my insurance valid for 3 months for £36. Back at the vehicle import booth this was soon processed and I was away within an hour and a half all told.

The small town of Posof was apparently where to buy a Turkish SIM so I parked up, asked a friendly copper for directions and was soon at the TurkCell shop where the assistant struggled to issue me with a local SIM. She seemed to think my passport was wrong but I showed her the morning's stamps and my driving licence and eventually after an hour and a half we were good to go. A quick chicken and rice dish nearby followed by some shopping and I was off down to a picnic site by the river where I have found a shady and idyllic spot to regroup. There is plenty of space and family groups have been enjoying themselves but as it's all quiet now the genny is up and running so a hot shower beckons.

I will stay up in the mountains for as long as possible as here at 4,600' it is pleasantly cool. This area of Turkey used to be Georgian so there is a good mix of churches, mosques and castles to keep me amused.

More of this eventually so for now enjoy these.... Extras

Svaneti second time round.....

After a short journey north I stopped at the cracking little Aghvi campsite run by the friendly and welcoming Mzia who lives nearby in the village of Larchvali. Reached by crossing the fast running Tskhenistskali river via a rather decrepit steel and concrete bridge the site has shaded parking and excellent facilities with good hot showers and a small camper kitchen and relaxation area with a fridge full of cold beer. Initially I was the only guest but a Dutch family arrived later on followed by two Georgian families with roof tents. I offloaded the bike and put a tube in the rear as the tubeless set up had deflated over recent weeks and distorted the rim tape - a job for when I get home. Next day I cycled up to the Chkumi monastery up a side valley and realised I had stayed there in very wintery conditions last year. A young German couple were parked up by the fast flowing river so I stopped for a chat on my way back which I extended by riding on to Tsageri for fresh bread. Back at the site I enjoyed a couple of beers as rain fell overnight and slept soundly. 

Another gentle run north brought me to a sign on the Ushguli road declaring 'Movement Prohibited' between two kilometre posts 20km ahead and 25km apart which I didn't really understand. Fortunately an oncoming Georgian car stopped and he explained that they were now obsolete as the road works had been completed. As there was a very nice parking spot nearby alongside the river I decided it was time to stop anyway and enjoyed masses of wild strawberries from the flower filled meadow. A local passed by on his way to rotovate some land but otherwise it was a serene spot to spend an afternoon near the hamlet of Mele. The following day the excellent new road climbed steadily higher up in to the mountains with plenty of snow on the summits and in the shadier gullies with a final set of hairpins bringing me out at the top of the Zagaro Pass at just over 8,600'. I parked up to walk the half mile or so to the small chapel known as the 13 Assyrian Father's Church which had stunning views across to the ridges leading up to Vakhushti's summit a little under 13,000' high. 

Dropping a few kilometres in to Ushguli soon had me turning off to a perfect park up on the edge of the village, one of the highest permanently inhabited villages in Europe. There were a couple of other vans but masses of room and I parked up so as to keep the fridge in the shade as I planned a two day stay. The stone towers that in days gone by were vital fortifications for the individual families are UNESCO protected and I wandered around the village's unsurfaced back streets admiring them under a warm sun but with a welcome cool breeze. It must be a very harsh place from October to April when the village is usually cut off by snow and the highly seasonal tourism trade disappears. At this time of year though there were a steady number of visitors and a good choice of cafes and restaurants to grab refreshments. I scaled the Queen Tamar tower, initially by a rickety external wooden ladder and then four more internally that brought me to the top floor where outlets on each wall under the eaves would allow the occupants to repel invaders.

Back at the van various trekking groups on horseback were returning from the valley which led up to the walk out to the snout of the Shkara glacier five miles further on. This was my intended destination for the following day and I had a good chat with three British walkers who had just returned and were grateful for the offer of chilled water.

I set off fairly early and was soon locking the bike up at the end of the track and then walked the hour or so along the river, across a terrace of boulders and reached the grey blue wall of ice strewn with rocks and gravel and with the river emerging at the foot a greyish brown and of course icy cold. It was a dramatic spot with rocks on top of the ice regularly slipping over the edge and crashing down rather like those coins games at fairgrounds. As others arrived I made my way back to the van grateful that the bike saved a long and dusty walk and then dropped back for another look round the village. The hilltop church had some faded frescoes inside and occupied a lovely spot looking right up the valley to the Shkara summits at over 17,000' and beyond which lies the Russian border.

The cool nights at altitude were very welcome but a squally spell at breakfast the following morning saw me firing up the Eber for the first time in months. Heading downhill and roughly southwest on the newly surfaced road was an absolute delight with snowy peaks, wooded slopes and the occasional small village before I finally reached Mestia where I had had to turn round last year after coming up from Zuguidi. A small garage had a powerful vacuum cleaner to attack the Truma vent once more and I bought some fruit and veg from the adjacent shop where my confusion over the lari exchange rate caused some amusement as I offered ten times the requested amount. Yet again total honesty from the assistant who soon put me right. After lunch out I picked up one of the huge Georgian flat breads and drove out past the small airport and up the valley I had stayed in last year. This looked very different with flowers and plants growing profusely and none of the two metres of snow that I had encountered. I parked up on one of the many tracks along the valley floor just along from two Russian families, one with a trailer tent and the other a rather tired caravan.

So yesterday I set off to revisit my failed attempt of last year to reach the Chaladi Glacier which descends from the 4,280m peak of Bzhedukh that again straddles the Russian border. After an hour along the valley floor a wood floored suspension bridge crossed the fast flowing Mestiachala river and the path began to climb through pine woods to the Tchalaati river. This was fast flowing and I reached the point where deep snow had forced me back last year but was now able to carry on with the snout appearing way ahead - a point was reached where the snout had been in 1974 : it has receded by about 800m horizontally and 100m vertically. This last stretch was therefore on the jumbled rocks left behind that made for hard going but it was worth it as on reaching the upper level there was an impressive river barreling out from under one section and disappearing beneath another. 

I had got chatting with another walker who was from London, had a Georgian wife and two kids and was planning to relocate back to the UK next year when their teaching contracts at an International School in Tbilisi ended. They were all heading to Ushguli as part of a tour of Georgia and I reassured him that his kids would be able to reach the Shkara glacier as it was a much less strenuous walk in. A welcome beer at the small pop up bar by the bridge brought an excellent day to a close and back at the van I fired up the genny briefly to give me hot water for a much needed shower. Despite the vacuuming the Truma is still unhappy running on gas and I really don't want to risk a fire so have decided not to try it on gas again. As I'm usually pretty remote a genny session will do the job and after checking out various YouTube videos I am confident that fitting a new unit will be the way to go. Servicing a 25 year old unit would no doubt require parts such as the flame control device and jets plus a new vent and still leave me with the old electric elements, wiring and water tank. As the same model is still available it should be a pretty straightforward task once home.

Today I stopped briefly in Mestia for some shopping and have dropped partially out of the hills to stay on a shady terrace at the Wonderland Svaneti restaurant that allows camping as well. I had a closer look at the Truma installation and it does indeed look to be an easy one to replace once my clobber has been removed - the surrounding space is taken up with guide books, spare front and rear brake pads, a set of bulbs, air, oil and fuel filters, a large allen and torx key set, soldering irons, 12v water pump, via ferrata kit and other bits and bobs.......

So I now continue south west and out to the Black Sea coast where I hope it will be cool despite the loss of altitude, returning to the Svaneti has been a great success and in about a fortnight I will enter Turkey and stay up in the mountains where possible during August to steer clear of the heat. I need to be in Thessaloniki at the end of August so with far shorter distances to cover than in the Stans I can take my time and explore places at my leisure.

A return to extra photos sits HERE

Rushing Russia but settling back in to the Caucasus...

With Ukrainian attacks on Russian oil refineries causing widespread shortages of fuel across the country I brimmed my tank and the two jerry cans a few miles short of the border and then headed west to the border at Kotyayevka where formalities were completed in under two hours. It was all much more streamlined than crossing over from Georgia, largely I think because both countries are part of the Eurasian Economic Union, the EAEU, which promotes the free movement of goods, services, capital and labour and has abolished customs controls.

A car load of Kyrgs asked to borrow a pen to complete their migration cards and then came back again asking me to actually fill them in as they could not read the Russian or English (or possibly not at all). Two documents each for five of them asking for all the usual information from their brand new passports took some time but they were hugely grateful and a Kyrgyz trucker who had watched throughout insisted on giving me a huge watermelon from his wagon.

Before Astrakhan I crossed the bizarre floating steel bridge once more and decided to stop the night on the Volga as I had on the way through back in April. As the sat nav was now wildly inaccurate I relied on memory to pick my way through the suburbs to the centre where the Kremlin stood. Access to the river bank was however blocked off for the summer as it is a popular promenade so I found another parking area and went off in search of coffee and cake. Whilst at the border I had obtained insurance easily enough but local SIMS were unavailable due to restrictions from on high and in any case need 24 hours for security purposes before becoming fully activated.

As my border crossing had been so quick the combination of fuel, GPS and SIM issues persuaded me to crack on for the rest of the day. The roads were very quiet and queues at the filling stations very long so I made good progress and stopped for a quiet night in the tiny village of Artesian.

A few hours south towards Makchetka included an internal border check for both Dagestan and later Chechnya and the Mapy.com app's navigate function saw me around Vladikavkaz and heading south towards Georgia. The downloaded maps didn't require an internet connection and by skirting round the city I avoided the GPS discrepancy. There is only the one major road south and before long I was at the Verkhnii Lars border point.

The van had returned 48mpg so I had half a tank left and hadn't touched the spare cans. The border was again a surprisingly quick affair as vehicle numbers were low, the staff on both sides were friendly and helpful and the customs searches thorough but not onerous. The customs guy asked me for a specific vehicle import document that I didn't recognise - he showed me a specimen example but I still didn't recognise it from only a day or two earlier. I rooted through other paperwork and he spotted the required form. This had actually been issued entering Kazakhstan almost three weeks earlier before the Charyn Gorge and due to the aforementioned EUEA had been valid throughout Kazakhstan and Russia. An important lesson : keep all documentation from all countries for your entire trip as you never know.

Thus in under two hours I was out of Russia, with some relief, and in to Georgia via the Larsi checkpoint where I soon had most of my last few roubles changed in to lari, a month's insurance and a month's unlimited internet, both around £20 each. I spotted a trio of Belgian and French vans parked up so stopped to say hello. They were heading to Russia and the Stans but were completely unaware of the fuel situation. Thus they were very keen to buy both the fuel and jerry cans off me for what I had paid and with trust established they were also happy to give me euros for the Kazakh tenge that the money changers had not been interested in. I threw a map in for good measure and the small ruble notes and coins that would cover the steel bridge crossing and wished them all well. It's a tough time of year to be heading to the Stans as the heat was already building when I had left a fortnight or so ago and reading a couple of fellow travellers blogs quite a few were foregoing their vans and trucks for rooms with aircon.

A large number of wrecked cars lined the road as I headed up the dramatic Dariali gorge, through a couple of intimidating tunnels and began climbing towards the Kazbegi Pass. Trucks are held in batches to tackle the tunnels and hairpins so there was the odd line of drivers patiently parked up but nothing like the miles of wagons I had seen as the backlog from the snow closures were cleared back in April. So before long as dusk was falling I was back on the outskirts of Stepantsminda in the same carpark, had a decent but overpriced burger served by a friendly lass with good English and fell asleep quickly after a challenging couple of days.

I confirmed within the family in Tbilisi that it would be OK to stay for a few days and after giving the van a thorough jet wash treated myself to a Georgian pork dish before arriving at the accommodation. There was a Dutch van and German overland truck parked up but the owners of both had flown home so apart from an endearing kitten I had the place to myself.  

I spent two days giving the van a good clean out including the fridge, bathroom, all cupboards and so on, put a new tyre and tube on the bike which also got a good clean and lubrication and enjoyed their shady chill zone as several loads of laundry were washed and dried. A Swiss couple turned up on the second night with plans to get to Vietnam via Mongolia so were keen to pick my brains and good company. Hot nights and limited shade encouraged me to cycle up to the nearby mall and check out the parking for overheight vehicles and a large well stocked Carrefour and I strolled around the numerous shops that contrasted so sharply with much of what I had seen in recent months but also also chimed with the malls of Tashkent, Qizylorda and Samarkand.

I loaded everything up, blitzed the mall for food that was at last vaguely familiar and drove the couple of hours to Gori where my man once more filled the 907 cylinders for £2 apiece. Hot weather, limited cooking and cool showers to combat the heat had seen each cylinder lasting a month which was I thought good going as of course the fridge had had to work hard. The Truma water heater is back in service again after I'd stuck a vacuum nozzle in to the exhaust and inlet ports followed later by a jet of air at a tyre depot and touch wood all seems well with the van for the few thousand miles home. The park up at Gori lacked any shade so I walked in to the town, birthplace of Stalin, found a repair kit at a builders merchants for plastic tanks as my waste tank took a hit on rough ground a few weeks ago and then grabbed a much needed and rather severe haircut. Back at the van I dug out my glue gun and two glue sticks, plugged it in to the EcoFlow and filled the hole before slapping the repair tape on as well, all of which seemed to do the trick.

With Mandy due to arrive in Thessaloniki, northern Greece, in two months time I can now enjoy a much slower pace of life covering far fewer miles - partly necessitated by my insurance policy nearing its 20,000 mile limit. I'm not sure if the 12,000 miles outside of the EU would count, it seems illogical that they would as the company has no exposure beyond the EU and I have had local insurance in every country. However on renewal in August I will get a policy with a higher limit even though I doubt any future trip will be so extensive.

My plan is to return to Mestia in the Svanetti region of the high Caucasus via Ushguilli, regarded as Europe's highest permanently occupied village which I couldn't reach last year due to snow. Whilst on the dual carriageway from Gori heading west a police car indicated for me to pull in which I of course did. The surly officer asked to see the usual documents which were all in order and then claimed I had been on my phone a kilometre back which I strongly denied as it was patently untrue. I showed him how it sits in front of my instrument cluster to function as a satnav and is only on a short power cable so cannot be held to an ear. I also offered to show him my call log at which he just shrugged and walked off. Whilst I have the greatest respect for the police in general this, very occasional, kind of blatant cheating on a visitor really gets my back up. There are so many locals belting past at speed, undertaking, cutting in and regularly using their phones who are overlooked and I was determined not to be intimidated.

Later passing through Kutaisi I laughed out loud as another officer drove towards me clearly engrossed in a call..... After Tskaltubo with its decaying former Soviet Spas I found a perfect park up by the river which is the resurgence for the Prometheus show cave a few miles upstream. Loud frogs and inquisitive cattle were the only interruptions and with plenty of shade it was a lovely spot to spend two nights. The farmer turned up yesterday on a bizarre contraption to check his stock, a few locals dropped in for a quick swim and last night two Belgian girls stayed nearby using a roof tent but cooking outside as the mozzies emerged looked uncomfortable.

I was away this morning and heading up north once more in to the hills stopping at a roadside spring for water and I am now at a super little campsite run by Mzia at Aghvi where I will stay two nights. It is just grassland with trees on a high point above the river with a quirky range of facilities and at present no other visitors. At only a fiver a night it is a perfect stop over and if it stays dry tomorrow I will unload the bike and explore a bit. I've seen a few other vans in Georgia from EU countries so the feelings of remoteness and isolation of the last ten weeks are receding and I look forward to the opportunities ahead....