Results tagged “Georgia”

I get onto the ferry, having bought the cheapest tickets and not bothering to upgrade from a seat to a cabin and quickly take a row of seats to sleep on.

The Erke, a ferry ship from Georgia to Russia, registered in Phnom Penh, Cambodia and owned and operated by Turks.

I walk around the ship and start talking with some of the passengers about my trip in Cambodia (the ship is registered in Cambodia). As others overhear my stories, a crowd forms. Everyone is enthralled especially when I tell them about my Abkhazia attempt.

One of the guys listening, Koba, a Georgian by ethnicity, born and raised in Russia starts telling me about his businesses and his travels, we become friends pretty soon and eventually he offers a lift with him to Rostov (half of the way from Sochi to Moscow).

At one point in our conversation, an Azeri man comes up to us.

Azeri: Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but uh, I have six bottles of Georgian wine with me, do you think they’ll let me into Russia or will I have to pay a fine?

Koba: My friend, I have with me 130 litres of Cha Cha (Georgian grape moonshine) and a case of wine, I think you’ll be fine.

*the man leaves satisfied*

Me: Was that true?

Koba: Yeah, I’ve also got an antique painting that you can’t export form Georgia, good luck finding it though.

Me: How do you plan on getting past the customs in Russia?

Koba: I know a Georgian guy at the customs, pay him a bit of money and there’s no problems.

The sun rises as we arrive at Sochi.

I pass through immigration, am told that there’s no way I’ll be let out of Russia with my passport in the state it’s in (the photo page cover has almost completely come off). After being let out, I go for a much overdue swim in the Black Sea and wait for my friend Koba to have his car cleared by customs.

Having cancelled my plans of an illegal crossing into Abkhazia, I hop on a marshrutka to Poti. I knew that there used to be ferries from Poti to Sochi, though after the war they might be cancelled, my backup plan was to go from Poti to Odessa.

I arrive in Poti in under two hours and make it to the ferry office.

Me: When does the Poti/Sochi ferry arrive?

Woman at the counter: That’s been cancelled since the war. You can go to Odessa on Saturday (in three days) for $195USD.

Me: Bummer, so all the Sochi ferries are cancelled?

Woman: You can go from Batumi, but I don’t know the timetable.

Me: Ok, cheers.

Half an hour after arriving to Poti, I’m on a marshrutka to Batumi. When I get to Batumi, I head to the ferry office.

Me: Is there a ferry to Sochi?

Woman: Yeah, it departs in two hours.

Me: WOOHOO, one ticket please.

I high five the other people in line and go to do the only thing that I have time for, feast on Adjarian Khachapuri.

While eating at the cafe, I start talking to some of the other patrons about my travels. After I tell them about my failed Abkhazia attempt, we start talking about Adjaria (Georgia’s remaining autonomous republic after South Ossetia and Abkhazia declared independence.) They tell me that there were plans for Adjaria to separate also, and that things are still in the works.

One of the guys I’m talking with tells me he has something for me, runs home, grabs an Icon of St. Nino and gives it to me to guide me in my travels.

Two hours later, I’m on the ferry to Sochi.

I’m back in Zugdidi, I know there’s a marshrutka that crosses from Georgia into Abkhazia the following day at 14:00. Rather than show up unexpected, I decide to head there now to see what I can learn.

I show up to the address of the garage I was told about and ask the first two people I meet about the marshrutka to Abkhazia. Beso and Zaza (more on them later take me back to the stand for the marshrutka to Inguri to go over the bridge where I was just kicked out. Talk about frustrating!

I walk back to the garage where the marshrutka left from and walked around looking for some Abkhaz drivers. There’s a group of five of them. I approach them.

Me: Hello, I’m trying to get to Abkhazia.

Abkhaz 1: The marshrutka stand is over there (pointing to the Inguri marshrutka).

Me: They didn’t let me in, I’ve been told there’s a backdoor entrance (черный  вход).

Abkhaz 1: Yeah, you just missed it, come back tomorrow at 14:00.

Me: Will the driver take me? I have a Russian passport.

Abkhaz 1: Yeah of course.

Abkhaz 2: No way.

The five Abkhaz break off into a discussion in Abkhaz.

Abkhaz 1: It shouldn’t be a problem, in fact we can take you now.

Me: For how much?

Abkhaz 1: 5,000 Rubles and we’ll get you to Sokhumi.

Me: That’s too expensive for me, I heard the marshrutka tomorrow is 1,500 Rubles.

Abkhaz 1: Yeah, look, come back tomorrow and we’ll give a heads up to the driver, he should take you, if he doesn’t we will.

Me: Thanks guys.

Abkhaz 1: In fact, if you shave and cut your hair, you’ll look just like one of us, no problems.

Me: I’ll think about it, see you all tomorrow.

I rejoin Beso and Zaza who have decided to give me a tour of Zugdidi. While walking to a hotel, Beso invites me to stay with him.

Zaza and I

Left to Right: Myself, Beso and Beso’s sister and her husband.

See what’s wrong with this picture?

I return to the marshrutka stand the following day at 11:00 to find the five Abkhaz drivers at the same spot. When they see me, they all break out in smiles.

Abkhaz 1: Vanya, our Russian friend, we are so happy to see you. You’re going to Abkhazia, we’ve talked it over with the driver he’ll take you across and get you on a bus to Sokhumi. For you it’ll be 2,000 Rubles because there could be difficulties taking a Russian across.

The soldiers that stop every marshrutka are Russian, not Abkhaz, we’re pretty sure they’ll let you in, just in case, bring some vodka, cigarettes or some money to help them let you in.

Me: That’s awesome you guys are the best.

Abkhaz 1: You should stay with my family in Sokhumi, they know you’re coming and will happily let you stay for the night.

Me: That’s great. *I’m in a state of euphoria before reality sinks in* I’m going to be in Abkhazia without a stamp, how can I cross into Russia?

Abkhaz 1: Hmm, that’s a problem.

Abkhaz 2: Don’t worry about it, here’s what you do, get to the border town and then find yourself an Armenian. They’re always crossing the border illegally, they’ll take you via backdoor entrance into Russia, no problems.

Me: Do you know how much it’ll cost?

Abkhaz 2: It can’t be more than $150-$200.

Abkhaz 1: Vanya, I’m very worried, if you get arrested for illegally crossing the border into Abkhazia you might have to spend some time in prison, maybe it’s not worth the risk.

Me: You think that’s possible?

Abkhaz 1: It’s unlikely, but why risk it, it would cost the same for you to catch a ferry from Poti to Sochi and cross into Abkhazia from there (illegal according to Georgia which claims Abkhazia is Georgian territory).

Me: I think you’re right. *Reality sinks in, my heart sinks* Thanks guys.

Abkhaz 1: You’re a good person Vanya, I hope you get to see our country, it’s an amazing and the people are so friendly.

Me: I do too, goodbye my friends.

I would like to say that I took the rational approach and avoided the backdoor entrance because of the risk, but in honesty, it was because of the high price to cross into Russia that I avoided it (though I thought it might be much cheaper if I got as far as the border).

Having somehow stumbled onto Georgia's finest police officers, I walk past the police checkpoint. Behind the checkpoint lies an amazing sight, created as a result of the current political situation.

First though, a quick background to the war. In August 2008, war broke out first in South Ossetia and several days later in Abkhazia, two of Georgia's autonomous regions (the third being Adjaria on the border with Turkey) which have struggled with military actions and economic devastation by the Georgian government since the collapse of the Soviet Union.

The initial position of every major international media publication was that Russia declared war on, and invaded Georgia, annexing its territory and is exercising its might to punish Georgia for trying to join NATO, the European Union and for it's increasing ties to the United States of America. A knee jerk reaction based mostly on information gathered from Georgian sources.

An independent European Union fact finding mission investigating the war has since put out a report which can be summarised in two key points.

1. Georgia started the war by attacking peace keepers in Tskhinvali (the capital of South Ossetia), mobilising its army and attempting to retake the autonomous region by force. In response, Russia mobilised its troops and entered South Ossetia, in order to repel the Georgian offensive, to protect the 3000 peacekeepers they have in place since the last war in South Ossetia and to prevent the death of countless civilians from the Georgian military's constant attacks on the capital.
2. Russia reacted with disproportionate force, heading beyond the boundaries of Abkhazia and South Ossetia in order to destroy most of Georgia's military capabilities, including the sinking of most of its naval fleet in the Black Sea.

Shortly after the war, Russia recognised the independence of Abkhazia and South Ossetia shortly joined by Nigeria and then Venezuela. All other countries, including most of the European Union constituents and the USA recognise Abkhazia and South Ossetia as the territory of Georgia. Some food for thought, Kosovo declared independence from Serbia in 2008 and has since faced recognition from many countries (though most still recognise Kosovo as part of Serbia). It's interesting to note that the USA recognises Kosovo but not Abkhazia and South Ossetia, while Russia recognises Abkhazia and South Ossetia but not Kosovo, ah the fun of global politics.

Georgia maintains that Abkhazia and South Ossetia are part of its territory and as such no Georgian laws are violated when crossing in or out of the areas. Abkhazia and South Ossetia are working on rebuilding their countries after the war and as such freely allow Abkhaz, Russians and Ossetians into the country. This creates an interesting situation where Abkhaz are able to cross freely between the two countries (or regions if you prefer) without facing any taxes. This allows them to act as intermediaries between Russia and Georgia (who have mutual trade embargoes).

While I was there, I witnessed a lot of people crossing the border in both directions. Most of the people were Abkhaz, some were Mingrel and I'm not sure if there were any Georgians making the trip. Each person crossing had a goods with them that they would take to the other country, effectively nullifying the Georgia/Russia trade embargo.

As I walk beyond the police checkpoint, I see a lot of horse drawn carts taking people (along with their goods) across the bridge into and out of Abkhazia. There are a couple of cars parked and one of the drivers offers to drive me to Sokhumi (the capital of Abkhazia), I decide against it, opting to first check out the situation and if I deem it safe, to walk across.

The bridge itself lies 200m beyond the checkpoint (and out of its sight), I walk towards it and notice a camouflaged bunker with Georgian soldiers along with the monument of a pistol just before the bridge, pointed at Abkhazia.

I decide to not stop and chat, walk past the soldiers, another 50m to where I was told to stop and return from...

The bridge at Inguri, the border crossing over the XX river, between Georgia and Abkhazia.

I don't hesitate for a second as I continue onto the bridge, expecting the entire time to hear a shout from Georgian soldiers to return. When I'm far enough along the bridge that I'm sure the Georgian soldiers wouldn't dare to enter, I snap of photo of the Abkhazian side.

The Republic of Abkhazia (as seen from the bridge at Inguri).

Feeling bolder still, I decide to shoot a video (stealthily) as I cross the bridge.

One of the many horse and carts crossing the bridge.

While crossing the bridge, I once again check that I have both passports with me, put away my Georgian Laris and take out my Russian Rubles. I reach the other end and prepare for the final hurdle, convincing Abkhaz soldiers to let me across. I start chatting with some of the people on the other side of the bridge just before the the checkpoint while I calm my nerves, they are all incredibly friendly and wish me luck, telling me Abkhazia is a beautiful place.

I arrive at the Abkhaz military checkpoint and am told by soldiers to go through to see the commanding officer. I walk to the ranking soldier, a very serious looking Abkhaz soldier.

Soldier: Passport. (the conversation takes place in Russian)

Me: *Handing over my Russian passport* here.

Soldier: Where is your invitation?

Me: Russian citizens don't need a visa to enter Abkhazia.

Soldier: What are you doing here?

Me: *Sh!t, I should have organised with one of the people on my marshrutka to cross the border with them as their guest. No time for that, time to improvise* Travelling.

Soldier: Get out of my sight?

Me: Why?

Soldier: This is not an official border crossing, in fact it doesn't exist, we aren't here and neither were you. *Returns passport*

I'm shattered, such a simple oversight in my preparation  prevents me from crossing into Abkhazia. I walk away, returning to the people I'd chatted with before. They see that I've been turned back and am no longer in cheery spirits.

Waiting Abkhaz: They didn't let you in?

Me: Nope, said they wanted an invitation.

Waiting Abkhaz: Two options, you can return to the soldier and tell him that you have an invitation to join me, I'll go there shortly, or alternatively, offer the man some money. How much would you be willing to pay to cross.

Me: $100 USD (a figure big enough to get anyone interested in helping).

Waiting Abkhaz: That should get you across, good luck.

I take a deep breath, turn around and head back to the same soldier.

Soldier: What do you want?

Me: I have an invitation.

Soldier: F*ck your invitation, get out of here.

Me: Maybe we can come to some sort of an agreement? *hinting at a bribe*

Soldier: We won't be reaching any agreements. In fact, if you don't get out of Abkhazia in the next fifteen seconds, I'll arrest you myself.

Me: Come on friend, *I contemplate offering the money again but think he'll probably just take it and tell me to go away*.

Soldier: I'm not your friend, your time is running out.

I give up, defeated.

I turn back towards the bridge, find the group of waiting Abkhaz and tell them that my adventures in Abkhazia have ended before they've started.

Waiting Abkhaz: He didn't go for it?

Me: No.

Waiting Abkhaz: So what are you going to do?

Me: I have no real choice, I have to go back.

Waiting Abkhaz: *discusses with the other people around him* Here are your options. You can wait here until they change shifts and try your luck again. You can head back along the bridge and pay one of the drivers to take you across, they might not even check the car. You could try again tomorrow... or, you could go in though the black entrance.

Me: There's a black entrance?

Waiting Abkhaz: There's one marshrutka every day from Zugdidi. It avoids this bridge and instead goes across the river a little downstream. I normally take it across when I cross, or you could pay a "guide" to walk across the river with you.

Me: Tell me about this marshrutka.

Waiting Abkhaz: Ok, because you're such a nice guy. Head down to the XX garage in Zugdidi tomorrow at 2pm, there's only one per day and it should cost 1,500 Rubles.

Me: Thanks.

I stand there, contemplating trying to pay a driver to take me across the bridge, or waiting until the shift change but decide against it for two reasons. One, if I'm caught by the soldier, I could be in some serious trouble. Two, if I take too long and am forced back to the Georgian police checkpoint, I could face problems there.

I decide to head back to Zugdidi and try the marshrutka the following day. I walk back across the bridge, stopping to chat with another one of the passengers from my marshrutka, he confirms the details of the black entrance for me and wishes me luck, saying I should mention his name if there are difficulties.

As I walk across, a petrol tanker drives past and stops to offer me a lift back across the bridge. I hop in and we drive across, past the bunker of soldiers and to the Georgian police checkpoint where I get out, walk to the police and have a quick chat with them so they know that I have made my way back and not gone across the bridge like they warned me.

The driver tells me he's selling Russian petrol from Abkhazia in Georgia and makes several trips a day, but won't take me across because he doesn't want to risk the money earner. He drops me off just outside Zugdidi.

I decide to see if I can find more information about the 2pm marshrutka to Abkhazia.

I couldn’t cross into Russia from Georgia at Kazbegi (the border was closed three years ago and it seemed far too risky to cross in the mountains for fear of soldiers and mines.

My other options were to cross into South Ossetia or Abkhazia, or a ferry service to Ukraine and from there to Russia.  I’d always been fascinated about the 2008 South Ossetia war and initially planned to cross at South Ossetia however decided against it after passing a military checkpoint and hearing from locals that it’s not too safe for foreigners.

This left me with crossing into Abkhazia. I knew the most dangerous region was the Kodori Gorge, not too far from Svaneti and so decided to not head that way. I’d heard that the main highway linking Kutaisi to Sokhumi was closed at the border between the regions and thus my best bet was to head to the last major town on the Georgian side, Zugdidi and find a way from there to Abkhazia.

I arrive in Zugdidi and am faced with a daunting task, working out where I can cross the border from. There’s a heavy military and police presence in Zugdidi, and large displays of Georgian pride in the form of flags, including the following in the centre:

I apply discretion and decide against asking locals where to cross and instead hop onto the internet to find a map of the region. I find a town right on the border with Abkhazia, with a bridge heading into the region, not too far from the railroad and decide that I will try from there.

Next task, getting some Roubles, which isn’t that difficult given how many currency exchanging offices there are in the town, further reinforcing that I’ve come to the right place.

I find a marshrutka stand and ask people how to get to Inguri. I get a few strange looks but am pointed in the right direction.

I can’t believe my luck, the marshrutka takes us right to the border, everyone on board is heading to Abkhazia. I get out of the marshrutka and notice a Georgian police checkpoint, but the men inside aren’t paying much attention so I decide to not bother them and walk very hastily in the direction beyond the checkpoint where several passengers have gone before me.

“STOP!” I ignore the direction. “Hey you, come here!”. My pulse quickens, I’ve been spotted by the police and they’re waving me over, time to play it cool. I gather my thoughts, check quickly to make sure that my Australian passport is separate from my Russian passport, which is out of sight and casually walk over to the police.

Me: Gamar Joba (Georgian for hello), how can I help you? (in English)

Policeman: What are you doing here?

Me: I heard there was a war here last year, I wanted to see the border.

Policeman: Are you a reporter?

Me: Do I look like a reporter? I’m just a traveller, reporters dress much better than me.

Policeman: Hmm, ok, show me your passport.

Me: *hand over Australian Passport*

Policeman: *thoroughly inspects every page* (I presume he’s looking for an Abkhazian visa).

Policeman: Ok *looks at the photo page*, wait. Ivan Alexandrovich?

Me: Yeah?

Policeman: Is that a patronymic? – All Russians have a patronymic (in Russian Otchistvo), their fathers name with a different ending. I’m Ivan Alexandrovich, my sisters are Daria and Elizabeth Alexandrovna.

Me: Yes. *getting slightly nervous, I’m starting to think he suspects that I’m Russian*

Policeman: Born in Moscow?

Me: Yeah, but I was too young to remember it, we left to Australia a LONG time ago.

Policeman: ты говориш по Русски (Russian for do you speak Russian)?

Me: чуть чуть (a little) – I reply trying extra hard to make sure my Russian accent sounds incredibly bad.

Policeman: Are you going to Abkhazia? *Here it comes*

Me: No, it’s too dangerous. I just want to see it, is it ok to take a photo of it? *Why is he not telling me to go away, or asking for my Russian passport or arresting me?*

Policeman: You’re sure you’re not a reporter? – At this point he’s joined by a few more policemen, one who offers me some grapes while eyeing me suspiciously.

Me: No, have a look through my dirty unwashed clothes if you want, I’m just  a traveller.

Policeman: Ok, you can go through as far as the bridge, but don’t you dare to set foot on the bridge and do not point your camera in the direction of our soldiers, only at Abkhazia. – He records all my passport details in the notebook, I note that in the past two weeks only a couple of foreigners have been recorded, perhaps they’re part of some Human Rights organisation or reporters with permission. After recording my details, the policeman returns me my passport.

I thank the man and casually walk towards the bridge and Abkhazia, maintaining my cool the whole time, despite the nerves.

Having left Gori behind us, we first visit a church, Ateni Sioni followed by an ancient cave city Uplistsikhe.

Next, the St. George Chitakhevi Monastery (aka. Green Monastery).

From there, we stop along the way to Sapara Monastery for more photos of autumn.

After Sapara, it’s next to a women’s nunnery, Saro Monastery.

Next, the cave city of Vardzia where I befriend a group on a school excursion.

From Vardzia to Ubisa…

… and on to Bagrati Cathedral, which is under heavy reconstruction work…

… and finally to Gelati Monastery which easily ranks as one of my favourite places in all of Georgia.

After the visit to Gelati, it’s time for me to leave Koba and Jean as they head to Mtskheta while I go on to try and enter Abkhazia.

After deciding to not cross into South Ossetia, we continue to Gori, the birthplace of  the most famous Georgian, Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin. This man was seriously hardcore, his son was captured by the Germans during the Great Patriotic War (Russian name for World War II) and the Germans offered a prisoner exchange, Stalin's son for a Field Marshall. Stalin replies, "You have in your hands not only my son Yakov but millions of my sons. Either you free them all or my son will share their fate." The Germans killed Stalin's son.

The guide notices me reading all the signs in the museum and starts speaking Russian to me. I tell her about my travels and in turn ask her about the South Ossetia War. She tells me that long before the Russians occupied Gori, those that wanted to leave were long gone. Those that remained (herself included) were scared for their lives. Three artillery shells launched by the Russians landed in Gori, compared to the constant bombardment of Tskhinvali (capital of South Ossetia) by the Georgians.

When the Russians did eventually arrive in Gori, those that remained felt much safer than when the Georgians were using it as a base, because they knew that the Georgians wouldn't attack Gori. The Russians occupied Goris for a few days and did allow Georgians to return back home, they had blocked the main highway but the back roads were still accessible.

The guide also gives me one gold nugget of information. I mention to her that I want to cross into Abkhazia and she tells me that she has heard of people being allowed to cross from neighbouring towns in and out of Abkhazia without any real problems.

After the tour of the museum including Stalin's office, house, train carriage and of course Stalin's personal couch from where he would ponder who was next to the gulags, the guide wishes us a safe trip, and tells us one last interesting fact. After the death of Stalin, Kruschev ordered most of the statues of Stalin to be removed as he greatly despised the man. Gori is one of the few places where you can find Stalin standing proudly for all to admire. Earlier, Stalin had a place next to Lenin in his mausoleum, however he has since been buried outside it along with several other leaders of the former USSR.

Leaving Stepantsminda we head to Sno Village, from where we get a good vantage of Kazbegi mountain.

A lookout from the Georgian military road, not far from Ananuri church that we visited the previous day.

Heading towards Goris, we see a lot of houses built for those relocated as a result of the 2008 South Ossetia War.

Before going to Gori, we make a stop at Samtavisi church, as soon as we turn off the highway, we hit a Georgian military checkpoint. Just past the church lies South Ossetia, they warn us not to get too close or the South Ossetian terrorists will shoot at us.

There’s a service at Samtavisi church when we arrive, one of the Georgian news programs is filming the event. Walking around outside I start chatting with locals, to assess the likelihood of getting through South Ossetia into Russia. A group of girls there tell me it’s ok, for locals, as a foreigner, I might face difficulties. Koba tells me if he passes the military checkpoint and is stopped, they will notice one of his tourists missing and he could get into a lot of trouble. I decide to not cross into South Ossetia and have all my hopes set on crossing at Abkhazia.

The night in the B&B in Telavi was splendid, one bedroom had every book by Russia’s most famous authors along with Russian translations of Clancy, Dickens and Shakespeare.

Statue of Erekle II in Telavi.

The first order of business is visiting Telavi’s oldest (900 years old) tree. After a tree hug, it’s off to Shuamta where we walk around in the surrounding countryside to find the best angle to shoot from.

From Shuamta, we head to Kvetera (roughly half way between Telavi and Kazbegi), this is where Koba’s skills really shine. The road heading to the fortress/monastery complex is incredibly steep and Koba battles his way up the narrow path with remarkable skill, bringing the 4wd back under control just as it appears that it has the better of him.

The complex, overgrown with weeds and not fully restored is amazing, especially given it's surroundings, surrounded on three of the four sides by valleys too steep to climb, the only way the Turks could attack was by the path that we drove, not an easy feat.

After admiring the monastery and climbing around the walls for a bit, we head back down towards Ananuri, passing some incredibly beautiful scenery along the way.

Ananuri, located on the Aragvi River, only a short distance upstream from the dam, is a favourite amongst tourists for its location and state. There was a service on in the church at the time, and we attended for part of it.

Heading further north along the aptly named Georgian Military Road, we stop by a spot where two rivers merge, one dark, one light.

Up the mountains, just outside of Gudauri (Georgia’s premier ski resort) is a lookout point where I bump into a polish trio in an old beat-up compact heading to Iran. We take turns sharing tales of our more interesting travel experiences. They picked up a hitchhiker somewhere in the Balkans, so grateful was the passenger that he fixed a few of the problems they had with the car and left them very well fed.

Further along the road, we come across the Soviet monument dedicated to Georgian/Russian friendship, a large concrete circular wall containing murals of Georgian and Russian folk tales, along with the following:

Super soldier.

Next stop, a natural mineral water spring. Better than Borjomi? You have to try it and see for yourself.

We arrive in Kazbegi (now known as Stepanatsminda), and as we drive in, I see a nice surprise. “Charlie” I shout out the window. Koba stops and we have a quick chat. Charlie, the American cycling his way from Singapore to Turkey had caught the Aktau/Baku ferry with me and we parted ways in Baku. I travelled south towards the Iran border before crossing into Georgia.

The day I wanted to head to Kazbegi it was raining, so I went to Armenia. Several hours after I left Luka’s place (my couchsurfing host in Tbilisi), Charlie arrived and stayed with him. He was on his way out when he met an Armenian girl living in Georgia and spent some time around Tbilisi with her showing him around. I came back to Georgia, started the road trip and randomly bumped into the two of them here. Talk about a small world.

I also speak with local people about the border situation, the Russian/Georgia border at Kazbegi has been closed for three years and I’m told that it will be highly impossible to bribe or negotiate my way across. We drive there anyway, since there’s a church nearby. Koba warns us not to take any photos, he once had a tour group with him, one of the passengers decided to take a photo and was seen by one of the soldiers manning the post. The car was followed the Georgian soldiers confiscated the camera and smashed it against the ground.

I walk from where we parked the car to the border checkpoint but no one comes outside to say anything, I contemplate grabbing my bag from the car and running across but decide against it when I’m walking back and see the soldier in a building watching my every move, with his rifle in my sights. I survey the surrounding mountains and contemplate a mountain crossing at night but decide not to make the attempt given the previous year’s Georgia/Russia war and not knowing how many soldiers are stationed up in the mountains. After Vladimir’s story about the tourists that were caught in a minefield between Azerbaijan and Karabakh front lines, it’s not worth the risk.

Beautiful tree not far from the Georgia/Russia border.

Next destination from the border, is to catch the sunset at Gergeti Holy Trinity Church. The monk inside, wearing a jumper and having the heater on full blast tells me that despite its remote location, it’s still incredibly popular with pilgrims from all over Georgia, Russia and Greece. He gives me a present to help me in my journey, a copy of the Holy Mother of Kazan icon.

On the way back down the mountain, we pick up a couple of Dutch consular officials who tell me about the places they’ve worked and how much they enjoy living in different countries for four years at a time. I jokingly ask if they’re hiring, unfortunately, I’m not Dutch so I’m ruled out.

We spend the night in another B&B, run by a family who give a great example of how politics makes it difficult for people. The family live in Stepanatsminda, Georgia, half an hour’s drive from Vladikavkaz, Russia (the capital of North Ossetia), where the wife’s parents live, however the border is currently closed. The family find it almost impossible to get a visa to Russia. Once a year, depending on if they have money, the wife’s mother comes to Georgia, first catching a train to Baku in Azerbaijan, before changing for a train to Tbilisi and finally driving to visit her daughter, turning a half an hour direct route into a several day affair through Azerbaijan.

The following day, Koba and Jean will be heading near the border with South Ossetia, another possible entry point to Russia, so I continue with them.

From David Gareji we head to Sighnaghi, a small old town that’s been restored and prepared for masses of tourists. There is a monastery nearby.

Castle along the way.

The Monastery of St. Bodbe near Sighnaghi. I overhear an Australian accent and start chatting to it’s owner. Ross, his wife and daughter are travelling Georgia for five days before heading back home. It’s funny how when you travel and meet people from your home country, you go out of your way to talk to them. When you live in the country you just don’t make the same effort.

Sighnaghi.

St George church in Sighnaghi.

From Sighnaghi, we head to Akhtala in Gurjaani, a small town with mud volcanoes.

Apparently the mud is very good for your skin. In Soviet times, the surrounding town was built in order to develop the location as a resort town for people that would come to heal any and all ailments in the mud.

We stop at Akura to visit a friend of Koba’s for a wine tasting.

Grapes fermenting into wine, the family here has been making wine for several generations now and has been featured in some magazines.

Tired of being driven around everywhere we go, Jean and I walk to a partially restored church complex up in the mountains. Nekresi consists of several churches built at different points in history.

From Nekresi, we drive to Gremi…

… from Gremi to Gurjaani…

… from Gurjaani to Alaverdi …

… from where we catch the sunset…

Before heading to Telavi to spend the night, ending one very long first day of travelling around Georgia.

Having come off a whirlwind tour of Armenia with Jean, he invites me to join him for a couple of days on his tour of Georgia, until I reach Kazbegi (where the Georgia/Russia border has been closed for three years) and decide whether or not I cross it in a less than legal manner.

We leave Tbilisi incredibly early with Georgian guide and driver, Koba Kenkadze, one of the finest guides I’ve seen, who shares with us plenty of stories and jokes (he loves to take the piss out of Armenians). Did you know, Mt Ararat (where Noah’s ark came to rest) is the highest mountain in the world? It’s 5,000m above ground, but nobody ever counts the 5000m below the ground. (At 5,137m it is dwarfed by Qomolangma at 8848m).

Along the way to David Gareji.

After a several hour drive, along a mostly dirt road, with no passing traffic, we arrive at David Gareji Monastery, where six thousand monks were killed by Turkish armies. Although the monks were more or less hidden in the mountains, each held a lit candle during the Easter liturgy service, collectively acting as a beacon to the army that came to slaughter them.

Inside the David Gareji monastery complex.

The story goes that David Gareji is one third as holy as Jerusalem because one day David made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem but when he reached the gates, he was overcome with emotion and couldn’t enter the city. He picked up three stones and started the long journey back to Georgia. That night, the King of Jerusalem has a dream, that someone has stolen the spiritual holiness of Jerusalem and that this must be stopped. Naturally the king sends his soldiers after David. The soldiers catch David and find two of the three stones (I don’t want to think where the third was hidden…). When David returned, he placed one stone within the monastery complex, thus making it one third as holy as Jerusalem.

When I ask Koba how many trips he’s made to Jerusalem (since three to the monastery is the same as one to Jerusalem), he says “I don’t need to make trip, I live in the holy land.”

While the following photo may not appear all that beautiful at first, it is nonetheless interesting. The metal railing serves as the boundary between Azerbaijan and Georgia, for lots of the walk to the church at the top of the mountain, we are along the Azeri side of it. Contrast this to the Armenia/Azerbaijan border which consists of a neutral no-man’s land and far too many troops and tanks on either side.

The Georgia/Azerbaijan border, a result of Stalin’s careful distribution of territories of the former USSR.

A temple where John the Baptist is said to have prayed.

While the churches carved into the mountains may not look like much, the atmosphere when one visits is surreal, maybe even holy (you’ll know when you visit).

The church at the top of the mountain monastery complex of David-Gareji.

More of David Gareji’s beauty, it appears as if the tree is growing through the rocks.

Out of Karabakh, back in Armenia, we still have a long drive ahead of us, past a shepherd wearing an afro wig...

... over the Sulema pass, with a quick stop at a caravanserai...

... and at a volcano ...

... before catching a sunset ...

... at Noradus ...

... and spending the night at a Soviet style hotel, with the following poster...

The following day, we take a quick snap of the church outside our hotel before racing down to see the monastery on the peninsula on Lake Sevan. Afterwards we stop by Dilijan, a town built for tourists; it seems every country has at least one of these restored, polished, overpriced, lack of atmosphere towns with "authentic experiences".

After Dilijan, we visit yet another Armenian church, Makarvank. An elderly woman approaches me at times mentioning she has a museum at the back and found some really things during the excavations and restoration of the monastery and gives an impromptu tour around the monastery. She has no change when I go to pay for her museum, so she lets me in for free, gives me some walnuts and an apple. I decide to adopt her, give her a huge tip and take a photo with her.

The loveliest lady in Armenia, after telling me she had three sons of her own and that I was her fourth, had my heart pounding while Vladimir tried to not look like a third wheel.

The next part is the most dangerous part of our trip in Armenia, driving along a road, I know given the driving style preferred by Armenians, this can be dangerous on its own, however, the reason this is considered so dangerous, is because the road happens to be within sniping distance of Azerbaijan. You may laugh and think it's silly, but the Armenian government chose to build a detour around the stretch considered most dangerous at considerable cost.

The detour takes forty minutes to do what takes five as it goes up and around the back of a mountain. Our driver and guide, Vladimir, who fought in the Karabakh war decides that it's worth taking the extra time to not risk a bullet. Who am I to argue?

We stop at the stop of the detour to take a whiz and snap a photo of Armenia. I put my Azeri sim-card into my phone to text Vladimir - "Our snipers can see your little weiner".

Points are given to those that can state exactly where Armenia (foreground) ends and Azerbaijan (background) begins and whether both countries agree with the borders and whether or not it's fair that even though there is no fence, tourists will face unpleasantries if they try and walk around all of the lake.

Having not been shot at (or at least shot), we stop for lunch (which includes some vodka) before crossing from Armenian to Georgia (where I'd come the other way only a week before) and part ways with Vladimir in Tbilisi, ending the fast-paced tour of Armenia.

So I’ve been in Georgia for two days and it’s rainy. What to do?

Leave the country. Hope it gets better when I return.

I walk from Luka’s to the Tbilisi avtovokzal and hop in a marshrutka that’s due to leave in five minutes. Forty minutes later, we leave. The driver asks me for 300 lari for the trip. I don’t even think for a minute and hand over the money ($195 AUD), the driver takes 30 lari, he said 300 but meant to say 30. From this point on, no one on the marshrutka talks to me, the crazy foreigner that wanted to pay over $150USD for a six hour ride.

I fall asleep within five minutes of taking off, realising that I hadn’t slept the night before (a potentially expensive mistake). I wake up just as we arrive at the Georgia/Armenia border (a mere two hours from Tbilisi by marshrutka). The customs officer on the Georgian side of the border isn’t convinced that I am the person in my passport photo. He asks me for further proof. I make my second mistake of the trip, I show my second passport. The officer starts making calls via the radio, after five minutes he decides to let me leave the country.

I get to the Armenian side of the border, the customs officer points to the queue for visas and says visa. My westerner disguise must be working. I reply ruskiy, head to the queue to get my passport stamped. The soldier starts going through every page in my Russian passport. Where is the Georgian exit stamp? he asks. I have to show my second passport.

The soldier starts working extra hard, he senses a bribe coming. He continues to leaf through the passport, finding the gold nugget he was looking for.

Soldier: So you’ve been to Azerbaijan ey?

Me: Yes.

Soldier: Why?

Me: I’m a traveller and want to see as much of the world as possible.

Soldier: What do you think of Azerbaijan?

Me: It’s nice.

Soldier: Bullsh*t, it’s a f*cked up country, the president is a terrorist and they should all die.

Me: Can you stamp my passport please?

Soldier (realising he’s getting no bribe from me): *stamp* Get out of my sight.

Border crossing between Georgia and Armenia, taken from the Armenian side.

I hop back into the marshrutka and spend the rest of the trip drifting in and out of sleep (catching glimpses of Haghpat and Sanahin amidst the rain. I decide to not stop here due to the bad weather and make a choice to see them on the way back into Georgia).

I arrive in Yerevan avtovokzal to the sight of this amazing monument. I walk around my surroundings and change currency in the first booth I see. Moments later, I’m on the internet, looking at the wikitravel article for Yerevan to find a place to stay since I didn’t organise any couches to surf. I settle on the Envoy Hostel in Yerevan, Armenia.

After checking in and taking my first shower in over a week, I take a quick tour…

… try some local food …

… and laugh my head off before heading back to the hostel for more sleep.

Having left my bag and all of its valuables in the apartment of someone I’d never met after being let in by their neighbour, I head out with Irakli and Shota to grab some dinner.

Shota, being the man of fine tastes takes us to a restaurant where we eat two national dishes: Khinkali and Khachapuri. From dinner, we head to the TV tower for a view of the city.

Due to unforseen rain, we’re stuck out in the cold and have to wait it out. It’s 1am when I finally arrive at Luka’s to meet him and it turns out to be no big deal.

The following day, I walk around Tbilisi, visiting a lot of churches five within the space of two hours. Since it starts raining, I abandon my plans to head to Kazbegi and instead, decide to go to Armenia.

Some of the many churches in Tbilisi.

After the hassle free border crossing between Azerbaijan and Georgia (Balakan to Lagodekhi), I head to the marshrutka stand via taxi which I pay for in Azeri manat. The Georgian driver in his thick Georgian accent tells me about the difficulty in finding work in his country, how much he hates the current president and finally asserts that being Russian has no negative ramifications for my travelling in his country.

With absolutely no Georgian lari on hand, I tell the driver that I have manat and dollars and will need to stop somewhere to change currency. No problem he says and we leave twenty minutes later with myself as the only passenger, though that quickly changes.

After arriving in Tbilisi and quickly running to a money change kiosk, I pay the driver and am to spend the night couch surfing with a Georgian by the name of Luka. Apart from an address, an invitation to arrive any time and a phone number that’s currently unreachable, I don’t have much more information. I pick a random direction and decide that it’s the way to Luka’s place and so start walking.

Arriving at the metro station and not knowing where to go, I ask the first person I see if they speak English. Irakli does speak English, helps me buy a sim card ($1USD gets me 3 minutes talk time and 300 free SMS, much better compared to the high prices I was paying in Azerbaijan). Since he’s not busy at the moment, he agrees to join me for the next hour before meeting his friend.

Walking around Tbilisi, I’m glad that I’ve picked such a lightweight backpack. We head straight for Tbilisi’s star attraction, Sameba (Holy Trinity) Cathedral. Georgians mostly follow the Georgian Orthodox faith.

After visiting the cathedral, we head into the centre of town where we meet Irakli’s friend Shota (named after the famous poet Shota Rustavelli, after whom the main street has also been renamed). Irakli, Shota and myself find the location of Luka’s place and find no one home. The neighbour’s seem to be aware of this and happily open the door and let me in.

Walking inside, I find another four backpacks on the floor in the living room, the walls of which are covered in maps, drawings and pamphlets, typical of many hostels. Many of the comments left by previous guests are along the lines of Luka it was great to stay at your house and I’m sad that we didn’t get to meet, but thanks for your hospitality. I find this absolutely amazing that someone can be so trusting and hospitable to strangers. I decide there’s nowhere in Tbilisi I’d rather stay, leave my bag, lock the door behind me and head outside with my new friends.