Will joined us on the first day which was great, and it was through fantastic scenery. We were at the thickly wooded foothills of the Caucasus mountains, which are very cool compared to the plains. It was a good cycling day, and I was very pleased to make it past the 2000km mark on my odometer! We camped that night in the woods, we ate quite late though as Humphrey's stove had mysteriously fallen apart in his bag and is a struggle to put back together. A good meal of noodles, sausage and tuna; protein and carbs, yummy!!
We were up early the next morning and soon after Humphrey and I said good bye to the mountains as we turned inland to the plains again on advice from people who said there is almost no road on the supposed 'main' road into Baku. The morning was maybe my favourite few hours of cycling. I felt strong and the sun wasn't bothering me and before we got into the falt desert we were treated to a set of beautiful rolling hills covered in water buffalo. Then we saw a huge flock of white herons just before the desert really started. I felt like I was flying and I loved cycling then. Even after a long stop to repair Humph's tyre again I still felt good and on the flat road on our first desert stretch I felt like someone was pushing me I was going so fast. Someone stopped to give me an ice cold bottle of water, and all the beeps on the horn from passing lorries added to the buoyant feeling. Then the dreaded wind picked up and I slowed down. Coupled with Humphrey's decision to do 135km today and then 150km tomorrow to get to Baku, the afternoon took a turn for the worse as there was still 30km to go. The rest of the day was a fight against the wind and counting down the kilometres until I could stop. A brief respite was when someone stepped in front of me and handed me a huge slice of watermelon!
As there was nothing but desert we asked at a petrol station if we could sleep at the back of the building. The young chap showed us to a pagoda by a pond, and we slept under that with out a tent that night. We had watermelon for supper and a few stale cakes, but spotted a watersnake carrying away a writhing fish for his supper and then saw a turtle basking!
We woke early and started packing up, and the chap from the petrol station came over. He demanded us to pay 15 Manat for the pleasure of sleeping rough in the pagoda, he blocked our way out of the pagoda. We went through the motions of not understanding and then when that became too painful we laughed at his request and kept saying no, whilst trying to push past him. To our relief a van came in wanting fuel and we pedalled off with the sound of distant shouts of 'police' from the boy...
The morning was OK, the wind was up but not too bad and we plodded on, although psychologically the thought of 150km stretching ahead didn't help the motivation. We had a long stop at a petrol station whilst Humphrey fixed another puncture, and then we saw the Caspian Sea where we turned towards Baku. This is where we felt the full force of the wind...at first I was going at 11-13kph, but soon after I was down to 6-7 as the wind battered me. It was so powerful, and every lorry that went past created a vacuum which sucked me forward and then the wind almost pushed me off the road, I felt like I had no control over my bike. It was the only time I thought that it was to dangerous to cycle, but we pushed on. After 20km of this I was nearing the end of my patience with the damned wind and was willing to shelter anywhere until the morning. The dust was almost unbearable and every lorry that would pass us threw a whole load of grit in our faces. I saw ahead that Humphrey had stopped to talk to someone in a car and when I approached I was so relieved to hear that the man had offered for us to come and stay at his house!! We had only done 104km of the 150 but I was not complaining. We had just 4km to go until the turning for his house. When I turned off and with the wind behind us, I was going at 15kph without pedalling!
I am always so amazed at people's kindness. He took us in, we spoke no common language, and he let us shower in his home, he fed us and let us stay the night. The shower was much needed, I was covered in dust it had ingrained itself into my eyebrows and hair. Once we were clean we realxed and they brought cay and food for us. In the evening his wife and two young daughters cam home and we chatted into the evening. It is quite a feat to talk about politics, religion and other worldly topics when we share no common language, but we managed it that evening. I shared a room with all of his daughters that night and it felt like a sleep over. The youngest was laughing at my transformation to wearing glasses, and with her sister they were giggling until late when their mother told them to go to sleep!
In the morning we were shown round their garden, which is full of all kinds of fruit; quince, plums, apricots, figs, apples, damson, grapes. We were given a huge breakfast of fried eggs dripping in oil fresh from their chickens and home made jam and bread. We hit the road and thankfully the wind was not quite as strong and we made our way into Baku and to our hostel. We met Will who had been watching Wimbledon and also bumped into Elmar, a Dutchy we had met in Tblisi. A good cycling gang for supper. Baku is a bottle neck for cyclist all waiting for visas and the ferry across to Kazakhstan. So we were to meet quite a few while we were here.
Sunday 19 July 2009
Balakan to Seki - 109km
It was downhill for a long time out of Balakan, the first town in Azerbaijan, which was great...we descended into the falt plains that stretch between the Higher and Lower Caucasus. It was easy cycling so we could really admire everything around us, and it was great to be in the shadows of the awesome Higher Caucasus and to think that the top of the mountains mark the border with Russia.
In this area it is difficult to define in what continent we are, it isn't Europe, but also not quite the Middle East or Asia, the Caucasus are a bit lost in their identity and because there are so many disputed borders all around they isolate themselves even more. The border between Armenia and Turkey is closed, as is the Armenia - Azeri border. Georgia welcomes everyone and anyone and I saw more EU flags there than in Europe, in the vague hope that they might be accepted one day, but the visa process for Azerbaijan is so difficult that they hinder any chance of promoting tourism for anyone but the most dedicated travellers and cyclists!! It is a bit of a maze of bureacracy around here, and very much off the beaten track of travelling routes.
We slowly simmered away in the plains, stopping often to get some shade from the relentless sun. So when we saw a very inviting river we jumped in...I of course went in fully clothed, but knew that it would actually be a relief to cycle in wet clothes. It was an idyllic spot, with a few horses lapping at the water further along and only us and a couple of Azeris for company. Although I was quite conscious of the 'wet t-shirt' competition look after I emerged and beat a quick retreat from the gawping stares. Having cycled a little further in this area, I have noticed that women don't swim at all, even fully clothed.
Soon after we faced a decision, carry on along the long but paved road or take a left on a shorter but less well paved road. After a long discussion with the locals, in which we used a mixture of Russian, from Humphrey, and Turkish, from me, to communicate and we decided to go against all advice and take the shorter road. During this conversation I was able to admire the local fashion trend of pulling out, or letting your teeth fall out, and replacing them with a full set of Golden Wonders!!
The road started off manageable, and we had to fend off a few more drivers who stopped us and said don't go this way...but blindly we carried on. It progressively got worse, and we were reduced to travelling at 10kph over the terrain. Low and behold, Humphrey's poor tyre gave up again and exploded in the heat. It took a long time to get to good roads again but it wasn't so bad as we were looking up at a picture perfect mountain range. To add insult to injury as soon as we hit a good road, we started to climb on a very long straight road up to Seki. We climbed for, perhaps, 6km...so we plodded into town hoping to stay at a Karavanserai, us being silk road travellers! It is a place where people of the silk road could rest, replenish and trade their goods, and as this one was, they are normally wonderful buildings filled with arches and domes with big courtyards. Unfortunately this was full for the night, so we contacted Ilgar from the guide book, who organised a homestay for us with a family. We decided to stay one more night so we could rest and stay in the Karavanserai.
The next day we rose early to have breakfast with Ilgar and his family, and I tried the most amazing jam, it was made of rose petals and was heavenly. Humphrey and I gorged on this sweet nectar! I must make it at home because it tastes so good. After breaka we marched up the hill to the Palace complex. As we entered and looking a bit lost, we were swarmed with young azeris all wanting to have their photo taken with us!! They hardly said hello, we were stunned especially as we didn't even have our bikes with us which normally draw the crowds! We saw the Palace which looked very Persian in style and we felt like we had finally made it to the East. Inside it was covered in intricate and detailed paintings.
On a break at Ilgar's tea house we saw a passing cyclist who we hailed down. He had panniers but only on the back and they were open with stuff spilling out of them, so I thought he was jsut going to pick some shopping up...but when he came over I realised that he had come from Croatia like that, he was travelling light, but not quite light enough to pack everything into his panniers and keep everything waterproof, which his Ortlieb bags are prized for! Will came over and he was the first other Brit we had met on the road, we convinced him to spend the night in Seki with us and we trooped off to the next village to do some more sightseeing. After a long wait for the local bus, which is really a very small van with seats, we hailed one down. I went first and told the driver there were three of us, he waved me to the back and opening the door I was not sure how we were possibly going to be squeezed in but he and everyone in there seemed convinced that there was space. We all crammed in and crouched down, grinning through gritted teeth at everyone whilst whispering to each other how much pain we were in! One women took a fancy to me and flashed her golden smile at me alot, which I returned with my pearly whites. At first she jsut pinched my cheeks and stroked my hair talking loudly at me in Russian, then as my discomfort started to show she insisted that I sit on her lap!!! I refused again and again until she had had enough and hauled me onto her lap by my tshirt, to which there was no relief as I spent the rest of the journey hovering on her lap so as not to actually 'sit' on it, from one stress position to another! We fell out of the bus and trudged up to the Albanian Church that we came to see, but hungry and tired we got a taxi back to Seki pretty soon afterwards not wanting to risk another bus.
We had supper together that evening, and after we went to the rather touristy cay house. The man serving us had taught himself English, but in spoke in such a way that everything came out as if he was barking an order, 'sit down, please' 'be at home' 'eat well', there was no choice but to do as he said! Cay is served here with a selection of jam, just eaten with a spoon no bread or butter jsut syrupy jam in a little saucer to eat with your cay, it mafe me understand a little why they all have gold gnashers.
In this area it is difficult to define in what continent we are, it isn't Europe, but also not quite the Middle East or Asia, the Caucasus are a bit lost in their identity and because there are so many disputed borders all around they isolate themselves even more. The border between Armenia and Turkey is closed, as is the Armenia - Azeri border. Georgia welcomes everyone and anyone and I saw more EU flags there than in Europe, in the vague hope that they might be accepted one day, but the visa process for Azerbaijan is so difficult that they hinder any chance of promoting tourism for anyone but the most dedicated travellers and cyclists!! It is a bit of a maze of bureacracy around here, and very much off the beaten track of travelling routes.
We slowly simmered away in the plains, stopping often to get some shade from the relentless sun. So when we saw a very inviting river we jumped in...I of course went in fully clothed, but knew that it would actually be a relief to cycle in wet clothes. It was an idyllic spot, with a few horses lapping at the water further along and only us and a couple of Azeris for company. Although I was quite conscious of the 'wet t-shirt' competition look after I emerged and beat a quick retreat from the gawping stares. Having cycled a little further in this area, I have noticed that women don't swim at all, even fully clothed.
Soon after we faced a decision, carry on along the long but paved road or take a left on a shorter but less well paved road. After a long discussion with the locals, in which we used a mixture of Russian, from Humphrey, and Turkish, from me, to communicate and we decided to go against all advice and take the shorter road. During this conversation I was able to admire the local fashion trend of pulling out, or letting your teeth fall out, and replacing them with a full set of Golden Wonders!!
The road started off manageable, and we had to fend off a few more drivers who stopped us and said don't go this way...but blindly we carried on. It progressively got worse, and we were reduced to travelling at 10kph over the terrain. Low and behold, Humphrey's poor tyre gave up again and exploded in the heat. It took a long time to get to good roads again but it wasn't so bad as we were looking up at a picture perfect mountain range. To add insult to injury as soon as we hit a good road, we started to climb on a very long straight road up to Seki. We climbed for, perhaps, 6km...so we plodded into town hoping to stay at a Karavanserai, us being silk road travellers! It is a place where people of the silk road could rest, replenish and trade their goods, and as this one was, they are normally wonderful buildings filled with arches and domes with big courtyards. Unfortunately this was full for the night, so we contacted Ilgar from the guide book, who organised a homestay for us with a family. We decided to stay one more night so we could rest and stay in the Karavanserai.
The next day we rose early to have breakfast with Ilgar and his family, and I tried the most amazing jam, it was made of rose petals and was heavenly. Humphrey and I gorged on this sweet nectar! I must make it at home because it tastes so good. After breaka we marched up the hill to the Palace complex. As we entered and looking a bit lost, we were swarmed with young azeris all wanting to have their photo taken with us!! They hardly said hello, we were stunned especially as we didn't even have our bikes with us which normally draw the crowds! We saw the Palace which looked very Persian in style and we felt like we had finally made it to the East. Inside it was covered in intricate and detailed paintings.
On a break at Ilgar's tea house we saw a passing cyclist who we hailed down. He had panniers but only on the back and they were open with stuff spilling out of them, so I thought he was jsut going to pick some shopping up...but when he came over I realised that he had come from Croatia like that, he was travelling light, but not quite light enough to pack everything into his panniers and keep everything waterproof, which his Ortlieb bags are prized for! Will came over and he was the first other Brit we had met on the road, we convinced him to spend the night in Seki with us and we trooped off to the next village to do some more sightseeing. After a long wait for the local bus, which is really a very small van with seats, we hailed one down. I went first and told the driver there were three of us, he waved me to the back and opening the door I was not sure how we were possibly going to be squeezed in but he and everyone in there seemed convinced that there was space. We all crammed in and crouched down, grinning through gritted teeth at everyone whilst whispering to each other how much pain we were in! One women took a fancy to me and flashed her golden smile at me alot, which I returned with my pearly whites. At first she jsut pinched my cheeks and stroked my hair talking loudly at me in Russian, then as my discomfort started to show she insisted that I sit on her lap!!! I refused again and again until she had had enough and hauled me onto her lap by my tshirt, to which there was no relief as I spent the rest of the journey hovering on her lap so as not to actually 'sit' on it, from one stress position to another! We fell out of the bus and trudged up to the Albanian Church that we came to see, but hungry and tired we got a taxi back to Seki pretty soon afterwards not wanting to risk another bus.
We had supper together that evening, and after we went to the rather touristy cay house. The man serving us had taught himself English, but in spoke in such a way that everything came out as if he was barking an order, 'sit down, please' 'be at home' 'eat well', there was no choice but to do as he said! Cay is served here with a selection of jam, just eaten with a spoon no bread or butter jsut syrupy jam in a little saucer to eat with your cay, it mafe me understand a little why they all have gold gnashers.
Tblisi to Azerbaijan 181km
I continue...
We left Tblisi with heavy hearts, we had a great time there with David and the fellow cyclists, but it was good to be getting back on the road after such a long break. We left late, as usual, and wound our way out of the city, weaving in between the traffic. My cycling 'skills' or ballsiness learnt in Amsterdam, dodging tourists, came in handy here dodging the cars...Humphrey got a puncture pretty soon so we stopped and sorted that out, this was the first day we had really noticed the heat and it made cycling very different! Once we got a little way out of the city we got into wine making territory and it was more like cycling in rural France, wonderful rolling hills covered in vines with the odd sunflower field to birghten the horizon. It was a real treat to cycle through and we decided to camp that night by a river tucked away from the road. Ominously we found a bleached sheep's skull where we wanted to pitch the tent but we decided to risk it. Pasta and sausage for supper as we watched the shepherd herd his sheep past us and their dead friend.
That night I got up to go to the loo and as I poked my head out I was stunned by the crowd of stars in the sky! It was beautiful, the Milky Way was so bright, I sat out there for a long time watching them and as if to cancel out the bad omen of the sheep's skull I saw a couple of shooting stars...
We started early the next day to try and escape some of the heat. Another wonderful cycling day through great scenery so it wasn't so bad when Humphrey got another puncture, I just lolled around in the shade while he toiled away at his broken bike, so a nice rest for me. We took a left turn as a little shortcut and found ourselves climbing up quite high; climbing, climbing, climbing, although I was complaining alot less and was actually enjoying the scenery while my legs powered me up. We got to the top and a vast stretch of flat, patchworked, plains spread out before us. At the brow of the hill there was a model town with very luxurious public loos, it had all been revamped and was looking very smart although we didn't stop for long. We enjoyed the downhill and from there it was flat to the border with Azerbaijan.
It was about 6 in the evening when we reached the border town, but we decided to get the crossing out of the way. Approaching the border we took our border photos early as we had heard the Azeris are pretty strict and do not like photos! The last sign we saw on the Georgian sign, was a huge blue board which said 'GOOD LUCK' , it was definitely worth the risk for a photo of that! The Georgian side was pretty painless, but to add to our concern of the sign, the policeman also bid us farewell with a parting, 'Good Luck' and a mischevious smile. We tentatively crossed the river that marked the border and were very sad to be leaving Georgia...
The border police were very polite, but they did ask us twice whether we had been to Armenia who they are currently still at 'war' with, we quickly said no, as if we had never even heard of the place! We had been told the Americans NGO workers who live in Azerbaijan say they are going to Kansas when they visit Armenia. In preparation we had covered over 'Armenia' in the title of our guide book, as a token gesture at least.
We were stamped in and cycled off with a dog chasing us and on a non existence road, it seemed that we really did need luck in these parts! We tried to find somewhere to camp but made it to the next town instead and found a motel to stay in. This is my third country of the trip!
We left Tblisi with heavy hearts, we had a great time there with David and the fellow cyclists, but it was good to be getting back on the road after such a long break. We left late, as usual, and wound our way out of the city, weaving in between the traffic. My cycling 'skills' or ballsiness learnt in Amsterdam, dodging tourists, came in handy here dodging the cars...Humphrey got a puncture pretty soon so we stopped and sorted that out, this was the first day we had really noticed the heat and it made cycling very different! Once we got a little way out of the city we got into wine making territory and it was more like cycling in rural France, wonderful rolling hills covered in vines with the odd sunflower field to birghten the horizon. It was a real treat to cycle through and we decided to camp that night by a river tucked away from the road. Ominously we found a bleached sheep's skull where we wanted to pitch the tent but we decided to risk it. Pasta and sausage for supper as we watched the shepherd herd his sheep past us and their dead friend.
That night I got up to go to the loo and as I poked my head out I was stunned by the crowd of stars in the sky! It was beautiful, the Milky Way was so bright, I sat out there for a long time watching them and as if to cancel out the bad omen of the sheep's skull I saw a couple of shooting stars...
We started early the next day to try and escape some of the heat. Another wonderful cycling day through great scenery so it wasn't so bad when Humphrey got another puncture, I just lolled around in the shade while he toiled away at his broken bike, so a nice rest for me. We took a left turn as a little shortcut and found ourselves climbing up quite high; climbing, climbing, climbing, although I was complaining alot less and was actually enjoying the scenery while my legs powered me up. We got to the top and a vast stretch of flat, patchworked, plains spread out before us. At the brow of the hill there was a model town with very luxurious public loos, it had all been revamped and was looking very smart although we didn't stop for long. We enjoyed the downhill and from there it was flat to the border with Azerbaijan.
It was about 6 in the evening when we reached the border town, but we decided to get the crossing out of the way. Approaching the border we took our border photos early as we had heard the Azeris are pretty strict and do not like photos! The last sign we saw on the Georgian sign, was a huge blue board which said 'GOOD LUCK' , it was definitely worth the risk for a photo of that! The Georgian side was pretty painless, but to add to our concern of the sign, the policeman also bid us farewell with a parting, 'Good Luck' and a mischevious smile. We tentatively crossed the river that marked the border and were very sad to be leaving Georgia...
The border police were very polite, but they did ask us twice whether we had been to Armenia who they are currently still at 'war' with, we quickly said no, as if we had never even heard of the place! We had been told the Americans NGO workers who live in Azerbaijan say they are going to Kansas when they visit Armenia. In preparation we had covered over 'Armenia' in the title of our guide book, as a token gesture at least.
We were stamped in and cycled off with a dog chasing us and on a non existence road, it seemed that we really did need luck in these parts! We tried to find somewhere to camp but made it to the next town instead and found a motel to stay in. This is my third country of the trip!
Monday 22 June 2009
Tblisi
We have been in Tblisi for two days and have been treated like Kings. We called David when we arrived and arranged to meet with him the following day. He, like his brothers, took us on a tour of the monasteries of the city.
We first headed out to Mtskheta Monastery which we had cycled past on the way in to town. It was another beautiful building with magnificent fresco all around. Then on to Jvari a little monastery perched on the top of the hill opposite Mtskheta, David doesn't know his way around these parts and I think we missed a turning to the Monastery. Instead of taking a more circuitous route to get there, he decided to reverse for a kilometre and a half up the slip road to get there. You could cut the silence in the car with a knife, Humphrey nor I wanted to speak for fear of distracting David and I think Humphrey had his eyes closed for the whole manoeuvre! The monastery was more basic than the others, no paintings but still with icons everywhere.
I forgot to mention that I had put all my washing in the night before and it wasn't ready in time for our little excursion. So I only had shorts and a shirt to wear. Entering a church here women have to cover their hair loosely with a scarf and they should be wearing a skirt not trousers and certainly not shorts. As all my respectable church going clothes were in the wash, I brought my towel along and was wrapping that around myself whenever there was a need, and also to cover my hair as my scarf was also in the wash I had to put on my rain coat and put the hood up. I cut a rather fine figure!
Then it was onto the fortress above Tblisi that awarded us extraodinary views across the city, even if the health and safety of the place left alot to be desired, I was teetering up some very steep and narrow stairs, wrapped in my towel!
Chinese for lunch a welcome relief from 'local' food, it felt like home! Here we met some friends of David who are from Belorus. They were telling us about Baku and Azerbaijan, and how horrible it is compared to Georgia so we are looking forward to it! They were also giving me tips on what to wear in Azerbiajan. The main thing I took away with me that in Muslim countries women should under no circumstances wear red. Now this poses a little problem for me, I like the colour red, so much so that I have a pair of pillar box red trousers which I use for 'smart' occasions, I have a bright red mac for when it rains. More difficult to overcome is that I have red bags on my bike all four of them are bright red! I am a cycling sex taunt according to them...we shall see how I am recieved over there, but I will be wearing my mac inside out....
The evening was spent outside Tblisi by a little swimming lake drinking fruit cocktails and tea!
The following day Humphrey was feeling a little ill so I went with Sofa and David on a shopping trip to find me some cycling trousers and a smart pair of trus to replace my red ones! We then went for coffee with alot more Belorussians and then walked to a lovely cafe called Cafe PurPur. Very bohemian and arty with the most amazing loos, it was like going into a French renaissance dressing room.
In the evening I went out with them all to Buffalo Bills, as you can imagine from the name this was an American themed pub. There was a huge group of Belorussians most on holiday from Baku and they were all very drunk. The live band started and within minutes they were all dancing on the tables and singing along, the only thing to do was to join in. The band were great but they had one member who stood out as being unique. The drummer, bass player and guitarist were cool, 'down with the kids' guys, bearded, long hair, good looking. Then there was the lead guitarist. A balding, dark haired, middle aged guy, wearing a stripy short sleeved shirt with the buttons open to the top of his rather generous belly which hung over his light blue tight jeans. To adorn the hairy chest he was wearing quite a few pendants that hung down amongst the sweaty hair. His solos were gratuitous, egocentric, love fests. His leg propped up on the nearest chair, in an almost crutch splitting lunge, eyes closed, head rocking back and forth to the music, sweat dripping from his brow...you could almost see the thought bubble above his head imagining he was Jimi Hendrix. Then his piece de resistance, he lifted his guitar to his face and proceeded to play the guitar with his tongue, or that's what he wanted us to think. I felt violated looking at him...it was horrendous, and I don't think any of the others shared my opinion! It was definitely an experience...
Tblisi has been great, we have been truly entertained by everyone here it's been amazing...I have made some good friends and hope to see them in London. We are constantly watching the news and wondering what our next move will be, at the moment it looks like we may have to skip Iran and head across the water to Kazakhstan, but it is all subject to change.
I ahve uploaded some pictures. It takes so long to upload them on to here so the link below should take you to the album I have put on facebook, even if you are not a member. I will be adding some more when I get hold of Humphrey's pics.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2321032&id=61201566&l=5bd6dc3c08
We first headed out to Mtskheta Monastery which we had cycled past on the way in to town. It was another beautiful building with magnificent fresco all around. Then on to Jvari a little monastery perched on the top of the hill opposite Mtskheta, David doesn't know his way around these parts and I think we missed a turning to the Monastery. Instead of taking a more circuitous route to get there, he decided to reverse for a kilometre and a half up the slip road to get there. You could cut the silence in the car with a knife, Humphrey nor I wanted to speak for fear of distracting David and I think Humphrey had his eyes closed for the whole manoeuvre! The monastery was more basic than the others, no paintings but still with icons everywhere.
I forgot to mention that I had put all my washing in the night before and it wasn't ready in time for our little excursion. So I only had shorts and a shirt to wear. Entering a church here women have to cover their hair loosely with a scarf and they should be wearing a skirt not trousers and certainly not shorts. As all my respectable church going clothes were in the wash, I brought my towel along and was wrapping that around myself whenever there was a need, and also to cover my hair as my scarf was also in the wash I had to put on my rain coat and put the hood up. I cut a rather fine figure!
Then it was onto the fortress above Tblisi that awarded us extraodinary views across the city, even if the health and safety of the place left alot to be desired, I was teetering up some very steep and narrow stairs, wrapped in my towel!
Chinese for lunch a welcome relief from 'local' food, it felt like home! Here we met some friends of David who are from Belorus. They were telling us about Baku and Azerbaijan, and how horrible it is compared to Georgia so we are looking forward to it! They were also giving me tips on what to wear in Azerbiajan. The main thing I took away with me that in Muslim countries women should under no circumstances wear red. Now this poses a little problem for me, I like the colour red, so much so that I have a pair of pillar box red trousers which I use for 'smart' occasions, I have a bright red mac for when it rains. More difficult to overcome is that I have red bags on my bike all four of them are bright red! I am a cycling sex taunt according to them...we shall see how I am recieved over there, but I will be wearing my mac inside out....
The evening was spent outside Tblisi by a little swimming lake drinking fruit cocktails and tea!
The following day Humphrey was feeling a little ill so I went with Sofa and David on a shopping trip to find me some cycling trousers and a smart pair of trus to replace my red ones! We then went for coffee with alot more Belorussians and then walked to a lovely cafe called Cafe PurPur. Very bohemian and arty with the most amazing loos, it was like going into a French renaissance dressing room.
In the evening I went out with them all to Buffalo Bills, as you can imagine from the name this was an American themed pub. There was a huge group of Belorussians most on holiday from Baku and they were all very drunk. The live band started and within minutes they were all dancing on the tables and singing along, the only thing to do was to join in. The band were great but they had one member who stood out as being unique. The drummer, bass player and guitarist were cool, 'down with the kids' guys, bearded, long hair, good looking. Then there was the lead guitarist. A balding, dark haired, middle aged guy, wearing a stripy short sleeved shirt with the buttons open to the top of his rather generous belly which hung over his light blue tight jeans. To adorn the hairy chest he was wearing quite a few pendants that hung down amongst the sweaty hair. His solos were gratuitous, egocentric, love fests. His leg propped up on the nearest chair, in an almost crutch splitting lunge, eyes closed, head rocking back and forth to the music, sweat dripping from his brow...you could almost see the thought bubble above his head imagining he was Jimi Hendrix. Then his piece de resistance, he lifted his guitar to his face and proceeded to play the guitar with his tongue, or that's what he wanted us to think. I felt violated looking at him...it was horrendous, and I don't think any of the others shared my opinion! It was definitely an experience...
Tblisi has been great, we have been truly entertained by everyone here it's been amazing...I have made some good friends and hope to see them in London. We are constantly watching the news and wondering what our next move will be, at the moment it looks like we may have to skip Iran and head across the water to Kazakhstan, but it is all subject to change.
I ahve uploaded some pictures. It takes so long to upload them on to here so the link below should take you to the album I have put on facebook, even if you are not a member. I will be adding some more when I get hold of Humphrey's pics.
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2321032&id=61201566&l=5bd6dc3c08
Gori to Tblisi - 88km
We got to Tblisi in good time the road was fast and the wind was kind and I think was helping us along.
As we got deeper into the city we got a real taste of Georgian drivers and the lack of rules of the road here. I found my time in Amsterdam dodging traffic and people came in useful here, the trick is to be bold and behave like a car, if you take up as much space as a car then they have no choice but to go round you all be it very closely. They have no qualms about driving the wrong way up a street, speeding at pedestrians to get them to move out of the way, speeding in general, they take no notice of the lines on the road. The one thing I will give them is that they stop, begrudgingly, for red lights, a rare chance for pedestrians to run across the street. In every car they have an icon or cross, so I suppose they think that God is on their side!
We made it to Dodo's guest house, we pushed our bikes through into a little courtyard I checked that there was hot water and a toilet and we were in luxury and could relax. It was great to meet some other travellers, people who had been to Iran and Central Asia who could give us advice and places to go. We spent a lovely evening with a Dutch girl Lotte who took us round the city before she caught her plane at 0300.
As we got deeper into the city we got a real taste of Georgian drivers and the lack of rules of the road here. I found my time in Amsterdam dodging traffic and people came in useful here, the trick is to be bold and behave like a car, if you take up as much space as a car then they have no choice but to go round you all be it very closely. They have no qualms about driving the wrong way up a street, speeding at pedestrians to get them to move out of the way, speeding in general, they take no notice of the lines on the road. The one thing I will give them is that they stop, begrudgingly, for red lights, a rare chance for pedestrians to run across the street. In every car they have an icon or cross, so I suppose they think that God is on their side!
We made it to Dodo's guest house, we pushed our bikes through into a little courtyard I checked that there was hot water and a toilet and we were in luxury and could relax. It was great to meet some other travellers, people who had been to Iran and Central Asia who could give us advice and places to go. We spent a lovely evening with a Dutch girl Lotte who took us round the city before she caught her plane at 0300.
Khashuri to Gori - 42km
We made it to Gori where our main objective was to find the Stalin museum on Stalin Avenue!!
It is a very grandiose building, and as soon as you walk through the door it has an eerie feeling and Stalin is everywhere, watching you. We got a guide as part of the ticket price, and she took us up the red carpeted stares into the first of four great halls filled with Stalin memorabilia. She spoke as if reading a script with almost no expression on her face. She told us of how Iosef Stalin was sent to Siberian jail 6 times and escaped 6 times, our great leader!! And then went through his whole life until his death, with no mention of any of the atrocities. There was a whole section on the industrial progress and it was filled with Soviet propoganda pictures; happy, smiling faces!
There were many pictures and the various conferences during the war, with Churchill and Roosevelt...and countless pictures of him in a variety of military uniforms! It was incredible, it was like a This is Your Life moment, with none of the bad bits. One room we walked into and the lights were dimmed and in the middle of a circle of columns was Stalin's death mask, a bronze cast of him soon after death!
Outside there was a sort of mausoleum protecting the house in which Stalin was born...the rest of the neighbourhood has been destroyed, most likely to build to Stalin Avenue and there alone surrounded by gardens and a roof over the roof, are where Stalin made his humble beginnings and from here rose to become the great man of Georgia...
We also managed to get a little tour on his train carriage. Not as spectacular as you'd imagine but Humphrey did get a shot of his loo!
We went to find a homestay that was in the guidebook, and were shown into a garden shed, with planks as beds and a concrete floor. We were too tired to worry and it cost 2pounds, but I was determined to get to Tblisi early the next day, I had only had two showers since entering Georgia and I was in desperate need.
It is a very grandiose building, and as soon as you walk through the door it has an eerie feeling and Stalin is everywhere, watching you. We got a guide as part of the ticket price, and she took us up the red carpeted stares into the first of four great halls filled with Stalin memorabilia. She spoke as if reading a script with almost no expression on her face. She told us of how Iosef Stalin was sent to Siberian jail 6 times and escaped 6 times, our great leader!! And then went through his whole life until his death, with no mention of any of the atrocities. There was a whole section on the industrial progress and it was filled with Soviet propoganda pictures; happy, smiling faces!
There were many pictures and the various conferences during the war, with Churchill and Roosevelt...and countless pictures of him in a variety of military uniforms! It was incredible, it was like a This is Your Life moment, with none of the bad bits. One room we walked into and the lights were dimmed and in the middle of a circle of columns was Stalin's death mask, a bronze cast of him soon after death!
Outside there was a sort of mausoleum protecting the house in which Stalin was born...the rest of the neighbourhood has been destroyed, most likely to build to Stalin Avenue and there alone surrounded by gardens and a roof over the roof, are where Stalin made his humble beginnings and from here rose to become the great man of Georgia...
We also managed to get a little tour on his train carriage. Not as spectacular as you'd imagine but Humphrey did get a shot of his loo!
We went to find a homestay that was in the guidebook, and were shown into a garden shed, with planks as beds and a concrete floor. We were too tired to worry and it cost 2pounds, but I was determined to get to Tblisi early the next day, I had only had two showers since entering Georgia and I was in desperate need.
Kutaisi to Khashuri - 112km
We left Kutaisi with regret, after another huge feast of a breakfast! Nugzar and Timur led us to the edge of town, and I was racing behind wishing I was sitting in the luxury of a leather seated Jeep. It was flat for 35km out of town and then the 'sticky wheel' syndrome started.
It is very strange how an uphill can look convincingly like a downhill, and it is amazing how frustrated one gets with oneself at not being able to go faster on the downhill. I even stopped to check my wheels and to see that the brakes weren't rubbing. Thankfully Humphrey was going through the same, and I think we had been deceptively climbing a long time.
Many people stop and shout things at us, mainly 'hello' and 'where are you from?' I was racing down, or trying to, one of the few actual downward stretches when a man shouted out, ' Are you from Great Britain?' I shouted back 'Yes!' without stopping, thinking to myself, how refreshing it was to hear someone say Great Britain, most people don't know what it is! He shouted something else, but I just waved and carried on.
I caught up with Humphrey and told him about my 'GB' encounter and he was equally surprised. Then the chap who had shouted pulled up behind us and got out and introduced himself as Temur. And then asked whether I knew Tony. The penny finally dropped...My friend Tony had put me in touch with a friend of his in Georgia, and although we had not actually spoken, I suppose there aren't many cyclists on the roads in Georgia!! It was such an extraordinary way to meet him.
From there the road got worse and we faced a 3km steady climb up to a 1000m pass. I was surprised at how well I coped with it, and it was mainly the boredom that made me stop. We got to the top and raced through the tunnel, and it was downhill from there!!!
We arrived in the town Khashuri as it was getting dark, and asked the police men about a hotel to stay in. They pointed us to one 20km down the road. An impossibility, Georgian drivers in the dark is not a good combination. So we donned our high vis vests, lights on and sped as fast as we could out of town to try and find a suitable camping spot. I suggested we pull over to the left down a lane and there happened to be a farm there. We went to ask whether it was OK to set up a tent there and they invited us in for coffee. We walked up the stairs and were greeted by a very rural scene. It was barely furnished, with just wooden stools and benches to sit on. A wood burner in the corner being fuelled by pine cones, two grubby but beautiful children wandering round one of whom had a book that he was ripping pages out of, both of them scratching their heads with lice...There was no running water which put paid to Brown's statement that broadband was as important as running water and heating! They were wonderfully welcoming, brewing us Turkish coffee and offering us some of their food. Humphrey did a stirling job of communicating in Russian with them and I relied on hand signals. It was quite late and we made signs to go and put up our tent but they said stay here!! We have two beds! It was difficult to refuse at this point. They made us a cup of fresh mint tea, freshly picked from the garden and then we went to bed. It was quite extraordinary to see the huge gap between the rich and poor here.
We got up early and were on the road by 8, but were faced with a horrendous head wind that slowed me down to 15-17kph and made the journey to Gori very tough.
It is very strange how an uphill can look convincingly like a downhill, and it is amazing how frustrated one gets with oneself at not being able to go faster on the downhill. I even stopped to check my wheels and to see that the brakes weren't rubbing. Thankfully Humphrey was going through the same, and I think we had been deceptively climbing a long time.
Many people stop and shout things at us, mainly 'hello' and 'where are you from?' I was racing down, or trying to, one of the few actual downward stretches when a man shouted out, ' Are you from Great Britain?' I shouted back 'Yes!' without stopping, thinking to myself, how refreshing it was to hear someone say Great Britain, most people don't know what it is! He shouted something else, but I just waved and carried on.
I caught up with Humphrey and told him about my 'GB' encounter and he was equally surprised. Then the chap who had shouted pulled up behind us and got out and introduced himself as Temur. And then asked whether I knew Tony. The penny finally dropped...My friend Tony had put me in touch with a friend of his in Georgia, and although we had not actually spoken, I suppose there aren't many cyclists on the roads in Georgia!! It was such an extraordinary way to meet him.
From there the road got worse and we faced a 3km steady climb up to a 1000m pass. I was surprised at how well I coped with it, and it was mainly the boredom that made me stop. We got to the top and raced through the tunnel, and it was downhill from there!!!
We arrived in the town Khashuri as it was getting dark, and asked the police men about a hotel to stay in. They pointed us to one 20km down the road. An impossibility, Georgian drivers in the dark is not a good combination. So we donned our high vis vests, lights on and sped as fast as we could out of town to try and find a suitable camping spot. I suggested we pull over to the left down a lane and there happened to be a farm there. We went to ask whether it was OK to set up a tent there and they invited us in for coffee. We walked up the stairs and were greeted by a very rural scene. It was barely furnished, with just wooden stools and benches to sit on. A wood burner in the corner being fuelled by pine cones, two grubby but beautiful children wandering round one of whom had a book that he was ripping pages out of, both of them scratching their heads with lice...There was no running water which put paid to Brown's statement that broadband was as important as running water and heating! They were wonderfully welcoming, brewing us Turkish coffee and offering us some of their food. Humphrey did a stirling job of communicating in Russian with them and I relied on hand signals. It was quite late and we made signs to go and put up our tent but they said stay here!! We have two beds! It was difficult to refuse at this point. They made us a cup of fresh mint tea, freshly picked from the garden and then we went to bed. It was quite extraordinary to see the huge gap between the rich and poor here.
We got up early and were on the road by 8, but were faced with a horrendous head wind that slowed me down to 15-17kph and made the journey to Gori very tough.
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