A Journey to the Highest Permanently Inhabited Village in Europe
3 Hours off-road to Ushguli
Georgia |
Our route across the Caucasus |
Although Ushguli was only 45km further up the fast-flowing Mulkhra River, the drive took almost three hours as the tarmac runs out on the edge of Mestia. Alex, whose driving had been so aggressive on the main highways, babied the powerful BMW round the rocks, potholes and crevices. Whether he did this to protect the car or us I do not know, perhaps he wanted to make the four wheel drive BMW live up to its reputation as a Chelsea tractor. Toyota Celica minibuses, the locals’ vehicle of choice, bounced and rattled past, moving not at any great speed but considerably faster than we were.
The road runs out of tarmac outside Mestia |
The route largely followed the river valley, though at this point it is more ravine than valley.
Along the Mulkhra gorge towards Ushguli |
At other times it found its own way, sometimes across alpine meadows, sometimes winding through ancient woodland. Occasionally we passed isolated farmhouses, or hamlets where all the buildings had their own watch towers, though many of them looked to be uninhabited and were rotting away.
Watchtower beside the River Mulkhra |
Some farms, though were clearly going concerns and we watched one old man heading for the fields, his scythe slung over his shoulder.
Around the house there were sheds for the cattle, and neatly tended rows of root
vegetables, mainly potatoes.
Hamlet between Mestia and Ushguli |
Reaching Ushguli
Ushguli is a line of four separate communes near the head of
a valley. As in Mestia, each commune keeps its own name and identity though it
would be an easy task to punt a football from one commune to the next, at least
downhill.
Ushguli from below |
The population of the four communes together is just short
of three hundred and at over 2,100m (almost 7,000ft) it claims to be the highest permanently
inhabited settlement in Europe. The population, though, is dwindling and there
are houses (and watch towers) for far more than three hundred. Presently
there are enough children to support a primary school, but to get more than a basic
education they need to leave the village. Once they have tasted the easier life
down the valley many never return.
Ushguli from above |
Lamaria Church, Ushguli
Ushguli is snow covered for six months of the year, but in
the short summer it is the most beautiful place; the warm, clean air sparkles,
the valley sides are green and the view of Mount Shkhara, at 5068m (16,627ft)
the highest mountain in Georgia, is breath-taking, at least on those rare
moments when the clouds part and allow you to see the peak.
Mt Shkhara from Lamaria Church, Ushguli |
At the highest point of Ushguli the little 12th century Lamaria (Virgin Mary) Church stands guard over the village.
Lamaria Church, Ushguli |
From the outside there is little, apart from a row of bells by the wall, to suggest this small squat building is a church but inside the walls are covered in sumptuous frescoes. It is a wonderful old building with an air of great serenity.
Belltower (?), Lamaria Church, Ushguli |
We paid our respects to the spirit of Ushguli and also to Dinara's parents who were responsible for much of the restoration work on the
frescoes. We left when the young man looking after the church went for his
lunch and only when he locked up could we see the remarkable door. In the
graveyard below the church a fresh grave had been dug - there was to be a
funeral that afternoon.
Door, Lamaria Church, Ushguli |
On our way down to lunch we passed an elderly couple with a sledge. Did someone tell me that it would carry the late villager to their last resting place, or did I imagine that?
Sledge, Ushguli |
Lunch in a Village House, Ushguli
We had lunch in a village house, one of the many in Ushguli which operate as guest houses or 'home restaurants'. Mist shrouded the valley and a few drops of rain fell as we crossed the concrete courtyard to the wooden house where a feast had been laid out for us. The ingredients for the salads - tomatoes, cucumbers and the inevitable aubergine with walnuts – had been brought up the valley, but the excellent flatbread had been baked on the premises, the wedges of strong crumbly cheese were made by our host from the milk of Ushguli cows, the fried potatoes came from the local plots and little fishes, some battered, others served in the walnut sauce that Georgians use for fish or any and every meat, came from the mountain streams. There were four for of us (Lynne and myself, Dinara our guide and Alex the driver) and, as usual, more food than ten could eat.
When we were well and truly stuffed - and it is rude to stand up from a Georgian table before you have reached that
state - our hosts apologised for a paucity of food. She was also catering for the
funeral and had been very busy, she told us, gesturing at an adjoining table
covered in industrial quantities of flatbread and what looked like chocolate
based cakes.
Probably enough food, 'home restaurant', Ushguli |
A Walk towards the Shkhara Glacier
To work off our lunchtime excesses, we walked through the
village and out alongside the Mulkhra. We followed the rough road for an hour
or more as it headed towards the Glacier on Mt. Shkhara where the river rises. Ideally
we would have walked all the way to the glacier but we lacked the time (and
energy) for a 16km round trip.
Strolling out of Ushguli |
I realised rather belatedly that the rough roadway we were following was actually the continuation of the road we had driven up from
Mestia. It heads towards the glacier for a while before turning south and descending
to the villages of the lower Svaneti.
On the road to the Shkhara glacier |
Above us, on fields far too steep for machinery, groups of
three or four could be seen cutting hay, working downwards together, the
rhythmical swung of their scythes sweeping through the long grass.
Haystacks on fields far too steep for machinery, near Ushguli |
Despite the height the air was warm. For a moment a few
large drops off rain splashed down on us, we broke out our waterproofs, but it ceased before we had time to
put them on. The mountain top remained in mist the whole time, but
we walked in hope that the next bend or rise would open up a full view of the
base of the glacier. It never did, there was always another spur or ridge to
block out view.
Sunshine on Mt Shkhara - just for a moment |
The further we walked, the further we would have to walk
back and I was beginning to think we had more than reached our limit when Dinara
pulled out her phone, called Alex and asked him to drive down the road to meet
us. We had previously been impressed by the way Dinara had managed to find a
signal in rural locations, but we were now 3 or 4 km outside a village of 200
which was the biggest population centre for over 40km in any direction (and far
more in most) – it is not like this at home*.
Lynne beside the Mulkhra, with Ushguli in the distance |
We were also surprised that Alex was willing to risk the car
on a road which in places dived steeply into muddy puddles of unknown depth,
but it was not long before we stood on the top of a rise and saw the black bulk
of the BMW picking its way daintily towards us.
Lynne and Dinara on the road to the glacier |
Alex met us beside a bridge over the Mulkhra. Unimpressed with the approach to the river he decided to try the higher route on the way back but
encountered one of those muddy puddles (hidden in the picture). He needed the four wheel drive to extricate
himself, it was the only time he used it in our whole journey across Georgia.
Lynne on the bridge on the way out |
Back to Mestia
Back in Ushguli we said goodbye to the highest permanently
inhabited village in Europe with the hope that it would retain that title for a
long time. The truth, though, is that life is hard here. I hope I am wrong, but
within a decade, maybe two, I suspect that Ushguli will be deserted in winter;
residents returning in summer to open up the guest houses and restaurants to
serve the tourist who will continue to come to this high, wild and very
handsome country.
Depopulated hamlet, near Ushguli |
The journey back took another three hours. We knew we had
been somewhere special when Alex asked if we minded him stopping to take some
photographs. Drivers tend to be phlegmatic, been there, seen it all people, and
when they get out a camera you know you are somewhere special.
Alex asked Dinara to take a picture of him on his phone - so I joined in, south of Ushguli |
Back in Mestia, Alex and Dinara left us at the hotel. Alex had worked hard
today and made the long ride as gentle as it could have been. It was also the
first time we had seen the car looking dirty. We thought he had earned a rest
but suspected (rightly as it turned out) that cleaning the car would be his
first priority.
Alex and his dirty car, Mestia |
Dinner in Mestia
After a shower we decided to forgo our already paid for
hotel buffet and head down to the cafe/bar in town where we had a beer
yesterday. This was when I discovered that the pullover I had intended to pack
especially for this location was still at home. Despite the mist and raindrops
at Ushguli it was a warm night and I decided to risk it. In the end we sat at a
table on the pavement in complete comfort until long after dark.
We hit the clay pots, eating lobio - beans stewed in a clay
pot - mushrooms with cheese cooked in a clay pot, and drinking a litre jug of' golden brown
'white' wine fermented in a big clay qvervi. We also had some chips, which had
never been near a clay pot.
Mestia at night |
We sat among a mixture of locals and tourists, while in the
park opposite the children of Mestia played in the last of the day's light. It
was a far better experience than sitting in the soulless hotel buffet. When it
gets dark in the mountains, it gets very dark indeed and we were grateful for
the few lights which lined our way across the river and up the hill to the
hotel.
*A day’s walking in the Peak District is largely conducted out of range of phone masts, even through villages as large, but in no way as remote, as Ushguli.
Part 3: Baku to Şǝki (or Sheki)
Part 4: Sheki (or Şǝki)
Part 5: Into Georgia: Wine Tasting in Kakheti
Part 6: Telavi to Tbilisi via Sighnaghi
Interlude: Tasting Georgian Wine
Part 7: Tbilisi
Part 8: Up the Georgian Military Highway
Part 9: Stepantsminda (Kazbegi) and Tsminda Sameba
Part 10: Uplistsikhe and Gori, Cave Dwellings and Stalin
Part 11: Kutaisi, Zugdidi and the Inguri Valley
Part 12: Mestia: Capital of the Upper Svaneti
Part 13: Ushguli: To the Ends of the Earth
Part 14: South to Adjara
Part 15 Batumi, Capital of Ajara
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