I have made the steep climb to Sumella monestary. Its sites on a small plateau high above the town of Gergeti. This day i am lucky. I have a clear view of the both the town below and the towering Mt Kazbegi behind me.
I begin the climb up to one of the Glciers, about as high as you can go without Crampons and Trostkys ice pick. As i start the climb i hear a patter behind me. Look around to see a dog coming up the hill. She comes up to me, gives me a lick then runs ahead wagging her tail as if to show me the way. Surprised, I follow. We walk together up the mountain, sometimes she is behind me sometimes in front.
She looks rather skinny and i feel i should somehow pay her for her services. I stop for a break on a rock. I throw her some sultanans and hazelnuts from my scroggin. She sniffs at them but doesnt eat them. Beagers cant be choosers i think as i throw her s chunk of my sassauge which she eats quickly.
We continue up the hill and i put my jumper on as i notice tiny flakes on snow falling. Its a magical site as the sun shines and the snow falls. My companion doesnt seem to fussed by it all, just waits patiently for me as i take a photo. We reach the snow line and there are patches of metling snow all around. I wonder how her geet will cope.
The Glacier comes into view along with the towering Mt Kazbegi. I stop again for some photos. Eventually i reach the point where the snow and ice are getting a bit too much for my boots. I find a dry patch and sit down for some lunch. My Friend and i share the best part of a stick of metwurst and a good hunk of cheese. I sit back to admire the view while she moved away and curls up near a rock. Alas shedoesnt have thermals and a jacket like me. I take pitty or here and decide to get moving once again.
We begin the descent. The weather has turned a little and it is getting quite cold with the mist is rolling. We have decended a few hundred meters when my friend ambles to the edge of the spur. She just sits there looking out into the mist. I whistle. She looks at me but stays where she is- looking intently down into the revine. And its there that i left her, sitting pearched on a rock waiting to guide the next hiker up the mountain......
Wednesday 23 September 2009
A trip to Kazbegi
I emerge from the Tblisi nuclear shelter (otherwise known as the metro) into the Chaos of Didube bus station. An old man sees my pack and points " Kazbegi" he says. I follow his figner to where 30 busses witgh Georgian writing wait. I ask around and hopefully get on the right bus. A huge canvas bag is wedges under the back door to the bacl seat. The door slams and we are off..
I wince as the speed screen says 90km hr. We duck we weave we lay on the horn. I forget which side of the road we are meant to be on as we spend the same ammount of time on both. We pass a church and most of the bus crosses themselves. I wonder if i should be doing the same thing as we overtake into oncoming traffic.
The lack of a jesus bar means i have to grip the belt on my new pants to stay upright as we chicane thourgh the traffic. Eventually the traffic thinks . We begin the climb up the mountains. The road is pinned to the cliffs in some places but it doesnt seem a good enough reason to slow down! The driver spends most of his time driving one handed as he talks on the mobile phone.
We pass the high point in the range. The vista of the high Caucus mountains in front and behind me is amazing. The road is now gravel- a slight reduction in spped by i am now gripping the seat as we bump over and around Lada sized potholes. We stop to deliver various goods. Bread, Clothes, Children. We finally arrive at Kazbegi. I step outside and breath the chilly mountain air.....
I wince as the speed screen says 90km hr. We duck we weave we lay on the horn. I forget which side of the road we are meant to be on as we spend the same ammount of time on both. We pass a church and most of the bus crosses themselves. I wonder if i should be doing the same thing as we overtake into oncoming traffic.
The lack of a jesus bar means i have to grip the belt on my new pants to stay upright as we chicane thourgh the traffic. Eventually the traffic thinks . We begin the climb up the mountains. The road is pinned to the cliffs in some places but it doesnt seem a good enough reason to slow down! The driver spends most of his time driving one handed as he talks on the mobile phone.
We pass the high point in the range. The vista of the high Caucus mountains in front and behind me is amazing. The road is now gravel- a slight reduction in spped by i am now gripping the seat as we bump over and around Lada sized potholes. We stop to deliver various goods. Bread, Clothes, Children. We finally arrive at Kazbegi. I step outside and breath the chilly mountain air.....
Shopping Trip
I have arrived in Tblisi. Being my first big city in a while its time to stock up on few things. I dump my gear at the rather funky smelling homestay and head out into the bazzar outside.
1st on my list is drugs. The legal kind that is. A stock of Fassign comes first. Thats for the giardia i really hope i dont get. Next there is some anticbiotics. A rather nasty case of the shits in Turkey rather took to my supply. There is also some more immodium- the same story. Some paracetomol to finish up. all for the grand some of about 4 lari ( about 2.70 aussie)
Next after that its some new clothes. I sent my jeans home and need them now its colder. My shirt cycling shirt has also never really recovered from getting covered in tar. I am stoked when i find a pair of light cotton pants. Exact Size. They are womens but who is going to know. Like wise for the funky shirt i find. Its a touch on the skimpy side but i am working on my man boobs so should be fine.
Next there are some bits and bobs. Powerderd milk- I make sure to get a 9 litre bag when ispot some. A cig lighter- i gave my spare one away to some old dude in Batumi. Grils hair ties- to hold my waterproof pants out of the chain.
Somehow i also manage to end up with a kilo of jam filled pastry. I wanted one but holding a finger up sometimes get a you a kilo instead.
Last are some headphones, though there is only so many time you can hear the same tunes. With the bike fixed and my Azeri visa its been a very successful few days. Its off to the moutains for a days climbing and then back on the bike and off too Baku.
1st on my list is drugs. The legal kind that is. A stock of Fassign comes first. Thats for the giardia i really hope i dont get. Next there is some anticbiotics. A rather nasty case of the shits in Turkey rather took to my supply. There is also some more immodium- the same story. Some paracetomol to finish up. all for the grand some of about 4 lari ( about 2.70 aussie)
Next after that its some new clothes. I sent my jeans home and need them now its colder. My shirt cycling shirt has also never really recovered from getting covered in tar. I am stoked when i find a pair of light cotton pants. Exact Size. They are womens but who is going to know. Like wise for the funky shirt i find. Its a touch on the skimpy side but i am working on my man boobs so should be fine.
Next there are some bits and bobs. Powerderd milk- I make sure to get a 9 litre bag when ispot some. A cig lighter- i gave my spare one away to some old dude in Batumi. Grils hair ties- to hold my waterproof pants out of the chain.
Somehow i also manage to end up with a kilo of jam filled pastry. I wanted one but holding a finger up sometimes get a you a kilo instead.
Last are some headphones, though there is only so many time you can hear the same tunes. With the bike fixed and my Azeri visa its been a very successful few days. Its off to the moutains for a days climbing and then back on the bike and off too Baku.
Saturday 19 September 2009
Visiting Stalin
One of the many statues of old Joe in the Gory musem. I am in the town of Gory. It is a beutiful town set between the greater and lesser Caucus mountains. From the fortess that dominates the middle of the town you can see snow on the peaks of the nearby mountains. It is still dry here though. I have left the sub tropical black sea coast with its eucalypts and am in the dryer central plateau. It will get dryer as i head further east
Most recently Gory was close to the conflict zone where Georgian and Russian troops clashed. The bridge on the way into town has been destroyed but i find out later that was from a flood and not from the flighting. It is however not really why i am hear.
Gory is of course the birtherplace of Josef Stalin and i am keen to see how his hometown has remebered him.
Taking a look at the map of the town its clear to see that is not with distain the he is remembered. There is Stalin Sqaure and the main street in the town is called Stalin parade. Then there is the musem. A huge buidling and the end of a nice park. I pay my 15 Lari ( about 10 dollars) and climb the very dark staircase.
I meet my tour guide. She informs me that she is only one of two and so the tour will ne a little short. We breeze thorough his early life as a revolutionary. His aresst and escapes from the gulgas. We disscuss his setting up of a printing press for workers and his early work with the revolution. After that we move onto his part in the second world war. We see the gifts given to him by loyal ( or teffified) subjects. We even get a quick look at his train carriage. Stalin hated flying. Sadly there is now mention of the purges. No mention of an ice pick to the back of the head. No mention of the ruthless checka or his hated of the rich peasants. There was a very brief mention of his son being executed where he had the choice of saving him.
Had i not had a some idea of history i would have been considring a saint-hood for the dude!
I enjoy yet another Khachapuri ( cheese pie) beofre i jump on my bike and head of town slightly bemused but understanding somewhat a towns need to have a hero. Even if he had a few charachter flaws.......
Most recently Gory was close to the conflict zone where Georgian and Russian troops clashed. The bridge on the way into town has been destroyed but i find out later that was from a flood and not from the flighting. It is however not really why i am hear.
Gory is of course the birtherplace of Josef Stalin and i am keen to see how his hometown has remebered him.
Taking a look at the map of the town its clear to see that is not with distain the he is remembered. There is Stalin Sqaure and the main street in the town is called Stalin parade. Then there is the musem. A huge buidling and the end of a nice park. I pay my 15 Lari ( about 10 dollars) and climb the very dark staircase.
I meet my tour guide. She informs me that she is only one of two and so the tour will ne a little short. We breeze thorough his early life as a revolutionary. His aresst and escapes from the gulgas. We disscuss his setting up of a printing press for workers and his early work with the revolution. After that we move onto his part in the second world war. We see the gifts given to him by loyal ( or teffified) subjects. We even get a quick look at his train carriage. Stalin hated flying. Sadly there is now mention of the purges. No mention of an ice pick to the back of the head. No mention of the ruthless checka or his hated of the rich peasants. There was a very brief mention of his son being executed where he had the choice of saving him.
Had i not had a some idea of history i would have been considring a saint-hood for the dude!
I enjoy yet another Khachapuri ( cheese pie) beofre i jump on my bike and head of town slightly bemused but understanding somewhat a towns need to have a hero. Even if he had a few charachter flaws.......
Saturday 12 September 2009
A day on the road
I am awake pretty early. I have spent the night slept on a small patch of sand created by a small rock groin on the black sea. Its about 630 and i have slept thorugh the 5 o'clock Muzeen (call to Prayer) I hear footsteps close by. I open the tent to see two men with fishing rods heading out to try thier luck. They smile and wave and i commend myself on my choice of canpsite as i watch the last of the sunrise burn away the previous nights storm.
I have breakfast and pack up the tent. I rather foolishly decide to try and get my gears running a bit better. Some men in a village the day before have kindly straightened my rear drop out but in the process i have lost my bottom hill gear. I don't really need it for the day and the hour i spend mucking around and making it worse should have been better spent.
Evenetaully i am underway. After an hour or so i stop for an icecream. Its not the best as it has been refrozen a few times. Not sure if its a black out or the shop keeper trying to save a little money by periodically turning off the freezer. I finish it while i explain my story to a group of curious young kids. They don't speak any english but are very good at hand signals. I think we more or less understand each other in a strange kind of way. I teach them how to say "G'day mate"
I arrive in Trabzon and decide to go for the internet first and then try and hunt for some bike parts. Having told the family i am still alive and well i set off parts hunting. I am hoping for a larger bike store but am not sure this is the place to be looking for such things.
I stop and ask an older man for directions and a young man appears and offers to help me. His name is Unal and his english is superb. 3 bike shops later i havent found the "super store" I was chasing but never the less with Unal's brilliant translation and local knowledge i have new brakes, a new chain and a reset derailer. I am now feeling great and i thank Unal for his assistance. He offers me to come back to have dinner with family and i greatefully accept.
Having not had lunch i am feeling rather hungry by 630 but as it is Ramadan and the rest of the family are fasting i take a deep breath and try not to think about food too much.
The food is worth the wait and i eat way more than i should. The disccusion at the table as i try to explain my life in australia and vice versa is facsinating too and i feel so greatful for the kindness i have been shown. I hope that his family is able to visit me someday so as i can return the kindness.
The shower and then the bed are heavenly and i sleep like the dead or very close too it. I hear the storm and the rain outside and reflect on an extraordinary day.
I have breakfast and pack up the tent. I rather foolishly decide to try and get my gears running a bit better. Some men in a village the day before have kindly straightened my rear drop out but in the process i have lost my bottom hill gear. I don't really need it for the day and the hour i spend mucking around and making it worse should have been better spent.
Evenetaully i am underway. After an hour or so i stop for an icecream. Its not the best as it has been refrozen a few times. Not sure if its a black out or the shop keeper trying to save a little money by periodically turning off the freezer. I finish it while i explain my story to a group of curious young kids. They don't speak any english but are very good at hand signals. I think we more or less understand each other in a strange kind of way. I teach them how to say "G'day mate"
I arrive in Trabzon and decide to go for the internet first and then try and hunt for some bike parts. Having told the family i am still alive and well i set off parts hunting. I am hoping for a larger bike store but am not sure this is the place to be looking for such things.
I stop and ask an older man for directions and a young man appears and offers to help me. His name is Unal and his english is superb. 3 bike shops later i havent found the "super store" I was chasing but never the less with Unal's brilliant translation and local knowledge i have new brakes, a new chain and a reset derailer. I am now feeling great and i thank Unal for his assistance. He offers me to come back to have dinner with family and i greatefully accept.
Having not had lunch i am feeling rather hungry by 630 but as it is Ramadan and the rest of the family are fasting i take a deep breath and try not to think about food too much.
The food is worth the wait and i eat way more than i should. The disccusion at the table as i try to explain my life in australia and vice versa is facsinating too and i feel so greatful for the kindness i have been shown. I hope that his family is able to visit me someday so as i can return the kindness.
The shower and then the bed are heavenly and i sleep like the dead or very close too it. I hear the storm and the rain outside and reflect on an extraordinary day.
Wednesday 9 September 2009
Reflections on Turkey
in this issue: The bike gear and the body. Turkish hospitality. Camping. Milestones. Companions
The not so unbreakable BOB after been un-broken
How to fıx a bent rear dropout- with a shifting spanner and a rubber hammer!
Breaafast on my first morning in Turkey!
1000km on the Speedo- only from istanbul though.
Watch dog on a beach campsite at Doganyurt.
The bike (igor) gear and the body
After nearly 2 months on the road the tally of war wounds stands as such:
3 Punctures ( 2 within 1/2 hr of each other)
1 Broken trailer. Kindly welded freee of charge in a tracking yard
The not so unbreakable BOB after been un-broken1 bent rear dropout. Couresty of a rather impatient donkey getting its yoke hooked in my front wheel. Again fixed free of charge
How to fıx a bent rear dropout- with a shifting spanner and a rubber hammer!Vrious gear problems which have been fıxed and unfixed by various people
1 torn tent fly. Oh for the wonders of gaffa tape
1 slightly broken tent pole. ditto
1 case of food poisoning
1 chest infection
A few tight calf muscles.
Not too bad a tally for 3000 or km.
Turkish Hospitality:
As alluded to above i have been incredibly lucky with the help i have been given whilst i have been in Turkey. This extends to numerous free meals and cups of tea. Yesterday i was stopped and given a bag of figs hazlenuts and cheese from an old couple on the side of the road. i have never really sort it but these things have mannaged to brighten a few tough days.
Breaafast on my first morning in Turkey!While the hospitality has been amazing a few things have been a little dıssapointing. The first would have to be rubbish. Even what seems like remote beaches can still be covered in shit. This hasnt always been so and im sure there are plenty of areas in Australia that suffer from a similar carelessness. Some of the roads too ( read the previous entry on wet tar) have been a bit average though this has been the exeception rather than the rule by far. Dogs on the whole have been less of a problem here than earlier in the trip
Camping:
İ have also had some absolute gems of Campsites from beaches to forrests and the odd roadside bivvie. The odd dog and curious local aside i have never had much trouble at all. Hopefully this contiues once i get into Georgia.
Milestones:
A few have come up since the last post. Sunday will be 2 months on the road. Hopefully by then i will be on the road to Tblisi in Geogia. Yesterday i clcocked up 1000km on the Speedo. This is not so much of a milestone as i only managed to get it working after leaving istanbul. Tuesday was also my longest day so far. ( well as far as i can work out). A good solıd run of 150km. İt was nice to have some good running after nearly two weeks of slogging it up and down the mountains.
1000km on the Speedo- only from istanbul though.Companions:
Since leaving istanbul i have had the pleasure of Rob and Bills company. Bill is cycling to india while Rob is going to Japan. Bill left us to head south to Ankara at innobolu while Rob and i cycled together for a few more days. The last 3 days i have been back on my own. After two weeks of having to make joint decsions has this has been a bit of a change. As Rob and i more or less headed in the same direction we will no doubt be passing each other again soon.
Watch dog on a beach campsite at Doganyurt.Where too?
From Trabzon the road heads east towards Rize and then Batumi which is on the Georgian side of the border. From there i will bıd farewell to the back sea my comanion for the last 3 weeks and head over the mountains to Tblisi. i am looking forward to a beer in Georgia. Being Ramadan for most of the time i have been in Turkey has made these things a little hard to procure.
Tuesday 1 September 2009
Crazy Turkish road works
in this editıon. Companions. Tar. Food. To Georgia
Companions
I have had the pleasure of ten days or there abouts of company since leaving istanbul. Two English blokes who are heading more or less in the same direction as me for a while. It has taken some small adjustments as anyone who has been traveling on thier own for any length of time will understand. Mutipley the usual morning pissfart about by three and you will understand. That aside ıt has been nice to share the experience for a change. One is now heading south while the other will cycle a bit more with me till we are sick of each other.
Roads
The Turkish seem to have a little trouble with road construction. More to the point i seem to have trouble with turkish roads. Yesterday became an enforced rest day after rıdding 20km on a wet tar road. Me and everything outside of the bıg yellow bag ( Igor and Bob ( the bike and the trailer) ıncluded) was coated in sticky black tar. Turkish hosptitality however came to the rescue wıth a bloke even draining the petrol out of his chainsaw to come to our aid!
What a turkish road will do to a water bottle.....
Food
I have started eating........lots. I can now quıte happily devour an entire turkish loaf a packet of cheese and a block of chocolate in one sitting. Something like a cross between a pregnant women and a sumo wrestler. Alas for those who are worrıed that i am becomimg morbidly obese i think the reverse is happening. While ı havent lost weight i havent gained any either. A good dose of some bad chicken hasnt helped either
To Georgia.
I am continuing along the black sea coast of Turkey. The ups and downs are pretty punishing but the views are for the most part making up for it. As ı wrıte i am in Inobulu and will head to Trabzon for a rest day. From there it will be a few more days and then into Geogia where i will have to start the great visa chase for the Stans.
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