25/08/2014
We awoke to find the streets were wet. With prevailing winds
over the Black Sea and the Lesser (though still substantial) Caucasus behind,
it is hardly surprising that Batumi is the wettest town not just in Georgia but
in the whole Caucasus region. You would think this might hamper its development
as a seaside resort, but apparently not.
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| A wet morning in Batumi |
It was, however, dry and warm by the time we had finished
breakfast and were heading south towards the Gonio-Apsarus fortress.
In the days of the Cold War the border between Georgia (and
Armenia a little to the South) and Turkey was the only land border between the
USSR and a NATO member, so it could be a tense place. We passed the former
‘12th Military Base’ which became a Russian base with the disintegration of the
USSR. After the 2004 Rose Revolution Georgia negotiated a Russians departure
and the base was handed over in November 2007. It now rots quietly in the sun.
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| USSR 12th Military Base, south of Batumi |
Gonio-Apsarus, a much older and more picturesque military
base, was a little further on, 15km from Batumi and 4km short of the
border.
Built by the Romans in the first
century AD, it was taken over by the Byzantine Empire in the 6th century and
became an Ottoman fortress in the 16th. The sturdy stone walls were obviously
built to last.
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| Sturdy stone walls, Gonio-Apsarus |
Apart from the impressive fortifications there is also a
pleasant garden within the site and much archaeological activity concentrating
on the Roman layers.
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| Garden Gorio-Apsarus |
Impressive for what it is, Gonio-Apsarus is even more
renowned for its connections with myth and legend.
After the disgrace and suicide of Judas Iscariot, Matthias
was chosen to replace him among the twelve apostles and, according to local legend,
he is buried at Gonio-Apsarus. I had previously thought the graves of only
three of the apostles were 'known' - St Peter in Rome (where he probably is not),
St James in Santiago de Compostella (a huge cathedral built on a fanciful
claim) and St Thomas just south of Chennai, formerly Madras, (an outside
possibility) – but here is a fourth.
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| The grave of St Matthias, Gori-Apsarus |
There are those who sincerely believe this is the grave of
Matthias, but the connection of Gonio-Apsarus with Jason and the Argonauts is
securely in the realm of legend. Jason and his crew, supposedly the heroes of the
tale but little more than a band of brigands, stole the Golden Fleece from Aeëtes,
King of Colchis, possibly in what is now
Kutaisi. The goddess Hera had made Aeëtes’
daughter Medea fall in love with Jason and without her help the quest would
have been an abject failure.
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| Gonio-Apsarus |
When King Aeëtes discovered Jason, his daughter and his
fleece had gone he understandably gave chase. Medea killed and dismembered her
brother Apsyrtus (what a charmer she was!) and strewed the pieces around the
countryside knowing that her father would stop and gather them up to give his
son a proper burial thus allowing time to escape. This, allegedly, happened at
Gonio. I had not read the story for a long time, and was surprised at how badly
almost everybody behaves; it is difficult to see any of these liars, cheats,
thieves and murderers as heroes. Some years later Jason abandoned Medea -
there's gratitude for you - and in revenge she killed their two children (which
is, I think, poor parenting).
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| Where's Aeëtes, then? |
We returned to Batumi, and Dinara started our walking tour by
the harbourmaster’s office. Batumi is a busy ferry and container port, but this is the quiet
end.
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| The Port, Batumi |
From here it is a short walk to Miracle Park, which from
some angles looks little more inviting than Military Base 12.
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| Miracle Park, Batumi - not looking its best |
The area abounds with the sort of architecture that Batumi
is trying to make is own. For many years it was a pleasant enough border city,
but in the last five years money has been liberally sprayed around in an
attempt to turn Batumi into a major international holiday resort.
The clock tower is known as the Chacha Tower as chacha - the
fiery Georgian version of marc or grappa - is allegedly dispensed free for a
few minutes at seven o'clock each evening. I do not know if this is true or merely
wishful thinking. Behind the Chacha Tower is the tower of the local university
which, for some inexplicable reason has a Ferris wheel two thirds of the way
up. I am not convinced it ever turns – or how this is an improvement on an
observation deck.
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| The Chacha Tower, The Radisson Hotel and the University Tower, Batumi |
From a different angle the tower is in front of another
folly, the Alphabet Tower. Built at great expense and opened in 2011, the
outside is a double helix bearing the 33 letters of the Georgian alphabet - the
DNA of the national language. A panoramic lift runs up the middle to a
television studio and a revolving restaurant. Unfortunately none of these were
operating and unless the building finds occupiers soon it will be merely a
colossal waste of money.
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| Chacha Tower and the Alphabet Tower, Batumi |
The architectural style continues in the nearby hotels. The odd
wavy Radisson can be seen between the Chacha Tower and the university tower, the
strangely curving Kempinski is best appreciated from Google's satellite picture
while the Sheraton, allegedly based on the ancient Pharos of
Alexandria, resembles
the top of the Empire State building on a much shorter tower. There is quirky
architecture elsewhere too, the Coliseum (sic) Hotel is a lot like, surprise,
surprise, the Colosseum and there is also a facsimile of The White House, only
built upside down.
All this smacks of trying too hard; Batumi may want to represent
it itself as a fun loving upmarket holiday resort, but there are two good reasons
why it will fail - the damp climate, and the beach. I know Brighton has prospered
for a couple of centuries or more with a pebble beach, but Batumi's looks like a
beach frequented by those (mainly Russians) who have no other beach go to.
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| The Beach, Batumi |
The statue of the Lovers by Tamar Kvesitadze is more
impressive, despite the tendency of some to use it as an ad hoc changing room. The
figures are in motion and over a period of time they move toward each other,
kiss and then coalesce. It is popularly known as Ali and Nino, after the classic
Azeri novel by Kurban Said, in which Muslim, Azeri Ali and Christian, Georgian
Nino fall in love.
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| Ali and Nino coalesce, Batumi |
Turning back towards the town centre, we walked through some pleasant streets, passing the Apollo
Cinema, which is innovative and original without trying too hard...
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| Apollo Cinema, Batumi |
...and the theatre
with a statue of Neptune in the park outside…
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| Theatre, Batumi |
… and then Europe Square where Medea holds up the Golden
Fleece. The cost made the statue controversial when it was erected in 2007, but
I rather like it even if it is the largest statue of a murderous psychopath we
have encountered since
North Korea.
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| Medea, Europe Square, Batumi |
I like the fountain in front even more; by
judiciously selecting your route it is possible to walk through the heart of
the fountain and remain almost completely dry.
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| Walking through the fountain, Europe Square, Batumi |
We finished in the main piazza overlooked by the cathedral.
It was full of restaurants and although it was getting on for two o'clock - I
had indeed noticed it was past my lunchtime – none seemed very busy, nor did
they offer what we wanted.
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| The Piazza, Batumi |
The end of the tour was the end of Dinara's responsibilities
for the day, but we offered to buy her lunch as it was our last full day. I mentioned
khachapuris, Georgia’s traditional cheese pies, quite frequently in the first few
posts but just because I have not mentioned them recently it does not mean we
had stopped eating them - it is, after all, compulsory in Georgia. Each region
had its own variation, mostly there are only slightly differences, but Ajaran
khachapuri is distinctive indeed. The bready part is twisted into a boat shape
with the melted cheese in the middle, and just before serving, an egg is
cracked into it.
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| Ajaran Khachapuri |
You break the yolk and it cooks in the hot cheese, turning
into cheesy scrambled egg in a big slab of bread. It is hearty and filling - a
strange choice of national dish for a region where the climate is warm and
heavy.
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| Lynne tackles her Ajarian Khachapuri |
From the city centre a long slow stroll back to our
hotel via the sea front took up most of the afternoon. We saw little we
had not observed in the morning, except this fairground version of a bungee
jump rocketing youngsters into the sky. It looked like a medieval torture to
me, but I am assured the victims were volunteers - indeed they paid for the
privilege.
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| Medieval torture, Batumi |
26/08/14
Our plane was not until the afternoon so in the morning we
set off to find the Museum of Ajara.
Like any city of comparable international standing (London,
Amsterdam and Beijing come immediately to mind) Batumi has a bicycle hire
scheme.
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| Bikes for rent, Batumi |
Wide red cycle paths are painted on the pavements. I took a
picture of Lynne standing in one. It was not particularly dangerous as apart from
along the sea front we had not seen anyone riding a bicycle.
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| Cycle Path, Batumi |
We paused by Batumi's synagogue which was built in 1904, closed
by the Soviet authorities in 1929 and returned to its original purpose in 1998.
Ownership of the building is now being returned to Batumi's small Jewish
community.
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| Synagogue, Batumi |
The museum was a curate’s egg. The first room was full of
badly stuffed, moth-eaten birds and animals, but the second was better with a
large and very beautiful Greek vase, an ancient sarcophagus converted for
Muslim ritual washing, textiles, clothes, assorted household implements and
models of traditional local buildings.
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| Models, Adjara Museum, Batumi |
Back at the hotel Alex gave us a lift into the town centre
and we found a suitable pavement café for our last meal in Georgia. We both
chose trout, and were unsurprised to find them as tiny as the trout in
Zugdidi,
but at least they left room for an ice-cream afterwards. We each had a glass of brown,
brackish qvervi-fermented white wine, because it was the last chance we would
have. We must have acculturated well because we ordered a second for old time’s
sake.
Then it was off to Batumi's small airport where we said
goodbye to Alex and Dinara. Alex was a very private man, he spoke no English
but even when we attempted to converse through Dinara we obtained little
information. He had, though, been thoroughly professional in his approach to
his job. Dinara, had been an absolute gem, one of the best guides we have
encountered even though it was only a gap year occupation. Her ready smile and
easy charm hide a forceful personality and this, along with her keen intellect suggest
a promising future.
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| Saying goodbye to Dinara (with Alex behind the camera), Batumi Airport |
That was not quite the end of our holiday. For some reason
Turkish Airlines do not see Batumi to Birmingham as being an important link, so
rather than spend 14 hours in Atatürk Airport waiting for a connection, we intended
to spend a couple of nights in Istanbul - so that will be the next post.
From the Caspian to the Black Sea
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