154 - Svaneti and the Svans (Mestia, Georgia)
MUCH TO MY CHAGRIN, I FELL BEHIND ON THE BLOGGY BLOG. A year and a half in, my efforts bordered on fastidious. I spent as much time writing as I did experiencing. It never, to my recollection, became arduous, an obligation weighing me down. It was a labor of love, a task I cherished. And more than that, it forced me to pay closer attention, to note nuance, to absorb details. Still, it consumed enormous chunks of time and mental bandwidth.
It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. My sojourn was mostly a solo one. I consider all the memories that could’ve been lost forever had I not taken the time. If I ever set out again, it goes without saying, I’ll continue the trend. Memories are my wealth, my silver and gold. A little notebook never left my person, an invaluable placeholder for thoughts.
I often lament my failure to keep a journal on my previous adventures, a gut-wrenching regret haunting me to this day. Emotions, experiences, and chance encounters vanished because I was unwilling to commit thoughts to paper. A small-scale personal tragedy.
I left Abkhazia and returned to Georgia. I needed more time in the 'khaz,’ but the language barrier, money issues (no ATMs, no credit cards), and a slight tingle of foreboding pushed me onward and upward. Always heed the tingle.
I crossed the border back to Zugdidi, then hopped a mini-bus to Mestia in northwest Georgia near the Russian border. Mestia lies in Svaneti, the land of the Svans. The landscape is breathtaking, the people friendly, and the history long and varied. It was eight days well spent, a highlight of my Georgian exploration. Without the time or inclination to update my journal, I went with whimsical bullet points. Go.
- Six-hour minibus ride scrunched between two fat Georgian men on a bone-rattling dirt road. On the way, I drank delicious naturally carbonated water from a roadside spring.
- Settled at a Mestian homestay run by a lovely woman named Nino. Learned half the women in Svaneti are named Nino.
- Met French dude named Vincent and teamed up for some hiking. Engaged in heated political discussions about US involvement in world affairs. Enjoyed superb views.
- Visited glacial “lakes” that looked more like puddles. Vincent and I assumed we went the wrong way. We didn’t. Roamed hillside in search of faster return route for shits and giggles. No luck.
- Hiked to cell phone tower for breathtaking 360-degree views of valley. Received ride from local Svan in Russian jeep. More lively political discussions. No progress on world peace. Vincent had the shits but no giggles.
- Hired car and driver with two Australians and a Chinese woman for another bone-jostling journey to the mountain village of Ushguli. Wandered streets. Frolicked among the hills. Ogled the signature Svan towers.
- Took rest day. Wandered the streets of Mestia. Recharged.
- Joined forces with France, Poland, and Germany for a hike to nearby glacier. Caught ride with a Svanetian truck driver. Divided time between staring at glacier and blond Polish woman.
- Giggled at mature French woman in our group yelling, “Share the land” to passing Israeli hikers. (Cause that’s how you convince people. Duh.) Was even more amused later when she informed me the food in the whole of America has no taste. None.
- Climbed one of many Svaneti towers standing century over village life. Scared the shit out of myself on the roof.
- Went for a horseback ride with German couple and blonde Polish woman. Looked ridiculous on horse, like a dwarf trying to ride a Dachshund. Impressed everyone. Discovered Team Poland had boyfriend. Found solace in the arms (or saddle) of my horse.
- Returned to tower next day for more pictures. Felt like little girl for being scared after watching elderly Israeli tourists walk around on roof of tower without batting an eyelash. Grew a set of balls and stood up myself.
- Left Mestia for the seaside resort city of Batumi. Chilled out. Walked on beach. Ate pork kebab. Decided I should go to Denmark.
- Took bus back to Tbilisi. Flew to Denmark.
Videos courtesy of Alexander Isakh, Danostories, Margus Kontus, and Lauren Holtslag.