Monday 11 May – Return to Tbilisi via Stalin’s birthplace
I was awoken at 5.30 by the sound of heavy rain outside. By the time I eventually got out of bed an hour later it was still hammering down. Hardly ideal conditions for the challenging drive through the mountains and back down to Tbilisi. Also a timely reminder as to how lucky we had been with the excellent weather yesterday.
I was genuinely concerned about the journey back to Gudauri. Will there have been more snow and avalanches? Will there be hordes of HGV’s stuck on the perilous roads? Could the police have simply closed the roads? Well, I’ve no idea how they manage the traffic on this essential route but our journey up to, and over Jvari Pass (c7,000feet) was trouble free. Yes, it was a bit slow due to snow and ice, but we barely saw any vehicles coming in the opposite direction. We did pass a few queues of lorry's parked on the side of the road each stretching over a mile.
A few hundred metres past the peak of the pass we stopped
at the Georgia/Russia Friendship Monument. Natalie could barely hide her
damning tone when talking about this Soviet built edifice. Fortunately, it had
stopped raining/snowing and we were able to scramble through the snow and ice
to have a look. It’s nothing that special, and even though I’d seen it last
year, it was good to get out into the fresh air. At just 4 degrees, it was more
than a little fresh.
Two hours later we had descended over 5000 feet and arrived in the town of Gori. The temperature was 20 degrees warmer than our previous stop. Gori is a rather dull provincial town that retains many old Soviet style buildings. It has, however, one big claim to fame; or perhaps infamy. Jolly old Joseph Stalin was born and raised there. It’s clear that modern Georgia has an uneasy relationship with the memory of arguably their most famous son*. In many ways he turned his back on his native land. For example, the only time he ever spoke Georgian after his rise to prominence was to his mother (who didn’t speak Russian). Arguably he was a shrewd politician and statesman, but equally he was a brutal murderous bastard. He even condemned his own son to death by refusing to trade him with German POW’s.
Anyway, Gori is virtually the only place in Georgia where
you’ll find anything remembering Stalin. His childhood home has been preserved
and is right next to a large museum detailing his life and “achievements”. It
was a strange place to visit. Is he someone who should be
remembered/celebrated? Maybe yes, if only to remind us what a brutal narcissist
can do.
By the time we left Gori it was raining heavily, and certainly not the best conditions for our next exploit – a visit to a former village of caves in the side of a hill overlooking the Kura River. Only about half of us decided we’ll undertake the task of climbing the hill up to the caves. For me, it at least justified bringing my trekking poles and wet trousers. Of course, after about 10 minutes the deluge stopped, and I had to strip off layers to avoid over-heating. The caves were fairly interesting, and the views of the river below were nice. Unbelievably 84 year old Robert chose to do this site. Slowly and stoically, he went about getting up and down the hill. Bloody hell, he is so like my late father-in-law. Rather than being irritated at his selfishness (as others clearly were) I couldn’t help but admire his spirited and dogged determination. All he was missing was a multi-pocket gilet! Sorry John, if you’re reading this upstairs.
The journey back into Tbilisi went very smoothly until we were about 10k out from the centre. But that last part took over an hour through horrendous rush hour traffic. Our guide told us that it was worse than normal as all the roads around the city’s main cathedral were closed. Georgia is a deeply religious country. You could just sense that when you saw Georgians in churches and monasteries. Tonight was a massive night for the Georgian Orthodox Church as they were about to announce a new Patriarch. The previous incumbent Illa II had served as the head of their church for a few days shy of half a century until his death in March. Make no mistake, tonight’s announcement will be massive. The best comparison I can make is the crowning of Charles III after Elizabeth’s immense time on the throne.
By the time we got to the hotel it was 6.30. The sun was out
and the light was great. No time for unpacking or any of that malarkey. I went
straight out to wander the Old Town. And it was so worth it. The vibe was
incredible. Just loads of people out and in a great mood. I headed uphill for
an area with some steps where there were meant to be houses with great stained
glass windows. I found the steps, enjoyed the views across the Kura River, but
no sign of the stained glass houses. Coming down off the side of the hill I
went deep into the back streets of the Old Town. So many houses with lovely
wooden balconies, but all too often they were really run down and in need of major
renovation. To many people these streets would have felt very scruffy, unkempt
and even possibly dangerous. To me they were just shabby chic and in need of a
bit of investment. All part of the deep character of this vibrant city.
After yet more Khachapuri on Erekle II Street and a beer at
the hotel’s rooftop terrace I went to bed a happy boy.
Summary of the day – probably the best day so far. Some
interesting new places, and a couple of terrific hours soaking up the party
atmosphere in Tbilisi. Whilst out touring I seemed to be able to blend in and
out of the group enough for them not to be too irritating. Some of the couples
have gelled together and seem happy to eat out together. There’s one couple
that I get on very well with, but I don’t want to limpet onto them. The 3 solo
travellers are probably viewing me as unsociable, and to an extent they’re
right. I don’t feel that I have much in common with them, and to be blunt it’s
just easier to do my own thing. Eating an evening meal out simply isn’t a big
deal to me – I’d rather be skittling around with my camera and eat on the run.
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