The big day - hopefully - Go get Gergeti!

I awoke early, after an unusually decent night's sleep. However, for the second day running I've got a headache - right on the top of my skull. Unfortunately, that's the area where I got headaches just before my Bells Palsy happened last year in Turkmenistan. Be calm, you idiot! It's probably just brought on by the altitude. After all you're up at c6,700 feet. I remind myself of one of the basic rules of being at altitude - drink loads of water. But therein lies a problem. I've only got one small bottle of water, so do I risk drinking tap water? The answer is obvious!

Also the finest shirt sponsor in British football! Lewes FC

There's 40 minutes before breakfast, so ample time to walk up to the shop that Giorgi had told us about - a 15 minute walk away. As I leave my room I bump into Alyssa and Mel and ask if they want anything from the local superstore. Like me, they opt for water. It's a pretty dank old day as I leave. The clouds are low, but it's just about holding off from raining. No snowy peaks to be seen. A very dishevelled looking man with long hair emerges from the house opposite the Lodge. He looked like Jesus, but had been dragged through a hedge backwards. He doesn't acknowledge me; he just heads for an equally scraggy looking pony that's tied to his fence. Within the blink of an eye, he's on the horse and galloping up the lane towards the main road. Maybe I'd found the long lost Shergar!

 

A very noticeable difference between Azerbaijan and Georgia was domestic animals. In the former, there seemed to be cats everywhere. In Georgia, it was dogs - seemingly not wild, as they most had ear tags. They were just left to roam around outside wherever their owners lived. They tended to be bigger dogs - the size of Labradors, and were for the most part very mellow. You'd see 3 or 4 of them hanging around near butchers shops, waiting for titbits and cast offs. However, as I approached the main road I accrued an unsavoury mob of 5 yapping mutts. Initially they seemed pretty friendly, but I couldn't shake them off; and they got more snarly. On reaching the main road I was trying to shoo them away, but very unsuccessfully. The optimist in me was thinking "no they won't try and bite me", but their tails were up, and they were in the ascendancy. I was still waving my arms at them gently when an old banger pulled up. The driver beckoned me over to get in with him. I didn't need a second invitation, and was over the road, and in like a shot. He spoke no English, but I showed him on the ever reliable Google Maps where I was headed. Two minutes later I was dropped by the supermarket. What a kind act from a random stranger!

 

Bloody dogs!

Just to add to my joy, there was a mob of dogs patrolling outside the blasted supermarket, which seemingly didn't open for another twenty minutes. I muttered, muttleyesque; but not too loud as to upset the local hounds who were hitherto somewhat disinterested in me. I passed my time watching lorry after lorry going past, determined to get as far as possible before the authorities made them stop for the day. They were mainly Armenian and Georgian, but with decent showings from Turkey, Russia and Iran. The Stan's were also represented in the form of Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and Kazakhstan. I wondered what on earth they were shifting, and then got distracted by a car pulling up right in front of me. Two Chinese looking people got out and walked around to the back of the supermarket. They re-emerged a couple of minutes later, got back in the car, and were off. Curiosity got the better of me, so I popped round the back for a look. How lovely; there was a great view of two churches with the hills behind.

 

Trucks!

 

What a little bonus!

The shop eventually opened, and a cheerless old wench sold me 6 x 1 litre bottles of water. Now the bit I was not looking forward to - running the gauntlet of Hounds of Gudauri again. I armed myself with a small stick, and approached as quietly and tentatively as possible. I was hoping that they hadn't done Monty Python's course of "how to defend yourself from a man armed with a pointed stick". Perhaps they were still learning "how to defend themselves against a man armed with fresh fruit"? Anyway, my fears were unfounded, as the bottlers failed to appear for our big showdown. I was actually very relieved.

Nikora Supermarket - service with a smile!

Mel and Alyssa were very pleased to get their bottled water, but blissfully unaware of what an adventure I'd had!

After a late breakfast we got into the minibus and headed north along the Military Highway towards the Russian border, steadily climbing until we reached the Jvari Pass at 7,200 feet. Just about on the snow line, we stopped to look at the Georgia/Russia Friendship Monument. It was absolutely tipping down. So much so, my very expensive rain jacket was struggling to keep me dry. We took a few cursory photo's before heading back to the refuge of the minibus. The weather forecast for the day was poor. with heavy rain/snow and thunderstorms predicted for around 11am through to late afternoon. Grim, and highly irritating. The chances of getting the awesome views of the church at Gergeti appeared very limited.

 

 

The curiously named "Russia Georgia Peace Monument"

We continued up the Military Road, passing huge lines of HGV's pointed in both directions. The road was challenging enough, with multiple hairpins, steep climbs and descents - it must be horrendous for the HGV drivers, and utterly hideous for other vehicles when they are all moving. We went through a number of avalanche tunnels, that had done exactly what they are designed for - i.e. getting the cascading snow and ice to pass over the road. Lord knows what it is like in the winter! 

Inside an avalanche tunnel

 

More trucks!

After 90 minutes (plus added on time!) we arrived at the car park in Stepantsminda, just 10km from the Russian border. Thankfully we could see the church  perched 1500 feet above us. It was peeing down and clear'ish, but the weather was changing by the minute. Decision time. Who wants to make the climb up to the church by foot, and who wants to go up in a 4x4? Just 2 of us were up for the climb, but ultimately felt that would be unfair on the rest of the group, who'd have to wait over an hour for us to arrive up there. Nevertheless, we still had the option of walking down afterwards; and that would necessitate a significantly shorter wait at the bottom for the rest of the group. It proved to be a very good decision, as within minutes it was absolutely raining cats and dogs. 

Fifteen minutes later our 4x4's dropped us about quarter of a mile short of the church. This gave us the option to walk the last part of the route, and get the best views with the snow-capped mountains providing a stunning backdrop. The rain had subsided a bit, but was still reasonably heavy. I'd come expecting the worst and went for my most stylish look comprising waterproof trousers, rain jacket and my infamous "tango man" poncho. Also armed with with walking poles, I was going to make the most of this. All the other others headed straight for the church; perhaps to get away from the blinding sight of tango man? I just meandered slowly snapping away. This was it. This is what I'd come to see, and I was going to soak it up. By the time I actually got to the church the rain had stopped, and gaps between the clouds began to appear. Our lodge host Zuvze, had accompanied us, and gave a short talk about the church and its history. I don't remember a word he said - I was just taking in the views and atmosphere. Just incredible. It had lived up to my expectations.

 

 

 

 

With the improvement in the weather, four of us decided to make the steep down hill hike back to Stepantsminda under Zuvze's leadership. Greg and Robert went steaming off with Zuvze leaving Mel & I, the oldest two, to descend at a more leisurely pace. Nil points for Zuvze on his mountain leadership skills for that! The descent was actually tough. Very steep in places, and over difficult rocky terrain. Lugging my walking poles around in my rucksack for ten days proved to be very worthwhile. My knee was giving me gyp by the time we got down, and my thigh muscles were stiff as boards for the next 48 hours. A small price to pay, as the views just continued to be wondrous. We passed an old decrepit tower, and met a horseman coming back the other way carrying goods up into the hills. Oh yes, this really was special.

 

 

 

 

The wonderful walk back down to Stepantsminda

After an hour we met back up with the rest of the group, and headed off to lunch in a very fine hotel on the opposite side of the valley. By the time we got there, the weather had worsened, and the church was only visible intermittently through the cloud and rain. We had been incredibly fortunate.

 

Back in the valley again, the weather worsens

We headed back to Gudauri along the poorly maintained and perilous Military Highway. There seemed to be even more trucks parked up. At times we had in the region of 10 minutes to get a gap in the oncoming traffic to pass them. With clearer weather, we stopped just short of the Friendship Monument, in the hope of getting better photos of it. We did!

 

 

Back at the Lodge we bunkered down as the expected thunderstorm came in. It went on for about 3 hours - an absolute humdinger of a storm. Thank heavens it arrived late. We'd got very lucky during the day. We'd also got another "Rainy Night In Georgia" - but this one was more Motörhead than the silky tones of Randy Crawford!