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Showing posts with label Silk Road-Caucasus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Silk Road-Caucasus. Show all posts

Monday, 25 August 2014

Batumi, Capital of Ajara: Part 15 of From the Caspian to the Black Sea

Jason & the Argonauts, Eccentric Architecture and Ajaran Khachapuri


Georgia

25-Aug-2014

Ajara
Batumi
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.
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.

Soviet Union 12th Military Base

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.

USSR 12th Military Base, south of Batumi

Gonio-Apsarus Fortress

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.

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.

Garden Gorio-Apsarus

Impressive for what it is, Gonio-Apsarus is even more renowned for its connections with myth and legend.

Grave of the Apostle Matthias, Gonio-Apsarus

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.

The grave of St Matthias, Gori-Apsarus

Jason and the Argonauts, Gonio 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.

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).

Where's Aeëtes, then?

Batumi Walking Tour

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.

The Port, Batumi

Miracle Park

From here it is a short walk to Miracle Park, which from some angles looks little more inviting than Military Base 12.

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.

Chacha, University and Alphabet Towers

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.

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.

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.

The Beach, Batumi

The Lovers, Ali and Nino

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.

Ali and Nino coalesce, Batumi

Central Batumi and Europe Square

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...

Apollo Cinema, Batumi

...and the theatre with a statue of Neptune in the park outside…

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.

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.

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.

The Piazza, Batumi

Ajaran Khachapuri

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.

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.

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.

Medieval torture, Batumi

26-Aug-2014

Museum of Ajara

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.

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, apart from along the sea front we had not seen anyone riding a bicycle.

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.

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.

Models, Adjara Museum, Batumi

Farewell to Georgia

Back at the hotel we found Alex and he gave us a lift into the town centre. Selecting a suitable pavement café for our last meal in Georgia, we both ordered trout, and were unsurprised to find them as tiny as the trout in Zugdidi, - 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.

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.


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Location: Batumi, Georgia

Sunday, 24 August 2014

South to Ajara: Part 14 of from the Caspian to the Black Sea

From the Snows of the Caucusus to the Beaches of the Black Sea

Georgia

South from Mestia

Alex had covered his car in dust and mud on the dirt road from Ushguli but in the morning, just as we expected, the black BMW was gleaming again.

One of the twin peaks of Mt Ushba
At 4,710m (15,450ft) it is by no means the highest mountain in Georgia, but mountaineers consider it the most challenging

We said ‘goodbye’ to Mestia and the Upper Svaneti, leaving by the same road as we had arrived - there is no other way. Descending the Inguri valley we made several stops to photograph mountains, the river and ourselves.

The River Inguri rushes south from the mountains

By mid-morning we were back at Zugdidi and turned westward across the Kolkheti plain towards Poti, Georgia's main port on the Black Sea coast.

The River Rioni reaches the sea here and we crossed it on the outskirts of the town and headed south down the coast. If Jason and the Argonauts went to Kutaisi, the capital of Colchis, in their search for the Golden Fleece, then this was where they left the Black Sea and rowed up the river. There are, as we would soon discover, other sites connected with this story and other contenders for 'where it actually happened' if a myth can be said to have 'actually happened’ anywhere.

We head south in a more leisurely way

Arriving in Ajara

Ajara

We soon entered the Autonomous Republic of Ajara (or, occasionally, Adjara). The province in the south western corner of Georgia, was taken from the Ottomans by the Russian Empire in 1878. In the aftermath of the First World War, with Russia in the grip of civil war, Ajara was jointly occupied by Turkish and British troops. In 1920 it was ceded to the briefly independent Georgia under a treaty guaranteeing special autonomy for Ajara as a largely Muslim province within Christian Georgia. Although the Soviet Union was equally hostile to Islam and Christianity, the Ajar Autonomous Soviet Socialist Republic maintained its semi independence when Georgia became part of the USSR in 1921.

Our journey between the seas

We passed through Kobuleti, an out and out seaside resort, with the only sandy beach south of Poti. This is a holiday coast, but most of the best resorts, Dinara told us sadly, were in Abkhazia which is de facto an independent state though to Georgian eyes (and in international law) it is a Russian occupied province of Georgia. We saw holidaymakers' cars registered in Azerbaijan, Armenia, Turkey and, most frequently, Russia. The Russians were particularly plentiful this year as they were forsaking their usual haunts in Crimea for the political stability of Georgia - ironic considering how hard Russia worked to destabilize both Crimea and Abkhazia.

Ajara is in Georgia's south west corner, Abkhazia in the north west

When Georgia regained independence in 1991 Aslan Abashidze, the authoritarian leader of Ajara, kept the region out of the ensuing chaos, ruling with little regard for the Tbilisi government. After the 2003 Rose Revolution central government tried to reassert its authority and for a time it looked like there might be an armed confrontation. Popular demonstrations in Ajara against Abashidze led to his resignation and to Ajara, unlike South Ossetia and Abkhazia, becoming fully and unequivocally part of Georgia. The region retained its special autonomous status, originally negotiated when it was the only Muslim majority region of Georgia, even though today 70% of Ajarians are Christians.

Lunch in Kobuleti

We stopped for lunch south of Kobuleti. Spicy sausages turned out to be less spicy than promised and consisted largely of tripe and fat. We did not feel the need try them again. A cold beer, though, was very welcome on a hot and increasingly sultry afternoon.

Batumi Botanical Gardens

A little further south, within sight of Batumi, the Ajarian capital, we stopped at the Botanical Gardens.

The city of Batumi from the Botanical Gardens

Founded by a Russian in 1912, the gardens were expanded under the Soviet Union and became a centre of study of Caucasian maritime subtropical flora. The 108 hectare site is now home to plants from all over the world.

We arrived at the main gate amid what seemed to be a chaotic scrum of cars. The cause was apparently a wedding party and the parking attendant advised us to drive to the back entrance. By the time we had walked through the park, he said, the jam would have eased and Alex could pick us up at the front.

Getting to the back entrance was not as easy as it sounded. Directed to take the next right off the main road, Alex turned onto a track which petered out among dense vegetation. He was not amused, and he extricated himself with much muttering under the breath; the next right took us to the entrance.

Batumi Botanical Gardens

I am not, by and large, a great fan of botanical gardens (update: except the Peradeniya Gardens in Sri Lanka which are magnificent) and although I like colourful flowers, I cannot claim to be much interested in plants. Sadly, for me anyway, large parts of the Batumi gardens are in fact an arboretum. The trees were well labelled, but the Latin names meant little to me and although they said where they came from, it was not much help. In the absence of something distinctive, like banyans or the huge kapoks of the Cambodian forest, one area of woodland looks much like another.

Batumi Botanical Gardens

I was more interested in the snake working is way along the side of the road. I have tentatively identified it as a Dice Snake; they are apparently widespread across Europe and beyond, but were unfamiliar to me. I was standing close to it and wearing sandals, so I was retrospectively relieved to read that it is harmless.

Dice Snake, Batumi Botanical Gardens

The Botanical gardens were not entirely without their flowers, though.

Batumi Botanical Gardens

The back entrance was near a cliff top and our walk was all downhill to the main entrance. We continued past the entrance to a small station on a single track railway line and then onto the shingle beach beyond. We had started at the Caspian Sea and had now reached the Black Sea, which may not be black, but is a lot blacker than the Red Sea is red.

Railway station, Batumi Botanical Garden

Caspian to Black Sea Completed

We had immersed our hands in the smelly, polluted Caspian at Baku, so this was clearly the moment to remove shoes and march into the Black Sea. It was warm and pleasant but despite the apparently calm there was a strong undertow.

Standing in the Black Sea, Batumi Botanical Gardens

Our day had started among high mountains and now, only a few hours later we were at sea level, my feet were even a short distance below. Georgia is a small country, but the variety of scenery that can be seen in a single day is truly remarkable.

Lynne completes her journey to the Black Sea from the Caspian Sea

I finished my paddle, we found Alex at the now quiet main entrance and he drove us into Batumi.

Reaching Batumi

Batumi is a port, a seaside resort and the capital city of Ajara, its 150,000 residents representing almost half the population of the autonomous republic. It is a hot and humid place – Abkhazia has not just the best beaches, but the pleasantest climate, too.

Away from the front Batumi does not feel like a holiday town; it does not feel like a Georgian town either - Turkey is less than 10km to the south and there is some inevitable influence.

Batumi

Driving to our hotel we passed many large umbrellas set up outside shops – that boded well for eating and drinking we thought. We checked-in, had a shower to wash off the hot and sweaty day and headed out towards the umbrellas expecting restaurants and café/bars but all we found were take-away joints flogging donner kebabs and barbecued sweet corn. After a longish walk towards the seafront we found a café with a line of tables stretched out beside the road. We sat down and a waitress appeared bearing an English language menu – how did she know, we wondered, and not for the first time.

The fare on offer was neither particularly Georgian, nor particularly interesting, but after so many Georgian feasts perhaps it was time for an omelette and chips. I thought I ordered a litre of the usual ‘homemade’ brown white wine, but what turned up was a  carafe of very clear, very bright very white ‘European style’ wine. Perhaps I pointed at the wrong line in the menu, perhaps something was lost in translation, perhaps they thought it best to give foreigners what they were used to or just possibly they took advantage of our assumed ability to afford a wine three times the price of the basic plonk. Whatever the reason, I have to admit it made a pleasant change.

From the Caspian to the Black Sea

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Location: Batumi, Georgia

Thursday, 21 August 2014

Kutaisi, Zugdidi and the Inguri Valley: Part 11 of the From the Caspian to the Black Sea

Bagrati Cathedral, Kutaisi

Bagrati Cathedral stands on a hill overlooking modern Kutaisi. As our guest house stood on the same hill the journey took only minutes.

Bagrati Cathedral, Kutaisi

Built by King Bagrat III in 1003, the cathedral was one of Georgia's major medieval buildings until 1692 when an explosion during the war with the Ottoman Empire brought down the dome and ceiling.

Bagrati Cathedral bell tower overlooking the city of Kutaisi

The programme of rebuilding and restoration which started at the beginning of this century was so ambitious that in 2010 UNESCO placed the cathedral on its World Heritage 'At Risk' list. [It was removed from the UNESCO list in 2017 as its major reconstruction work was 'detrimental to its integrity and authenticity'] As befits the granddaughter of an archaeologist and the daughter of two of Georgia's leading conservers of frescoes, Dinara was clear about the differences between rebuilding, restoration and conservation and about what it is appropriate for such a building.

A strange collection of body parts - relics of the saints, Bagrati Cathedral, Kutaisi

In one area at the back, where the shape of the old building is unknown, it has been replaced by a design of uncompromising modernity.

Modern addition, Bagrati Cathedral, Kutaisi

Although the restoration was completed a few weeks ago, workman were back in tearing up the floor, though for what purpose it was not clear.

Tearing up the floor, Bagrati Cathedral, Kutaisi

Leaving Kutaisi we drove ten kilometres into the hills surrounding the town to the Gelati Monastery, which stands on a wooded height overlooking the countryside.

Gelati Monastery

If Bagrat sounds an unfortunate name for a king in English, Gelati is a strange name for a monastery in Italian. That apart, it is an impressive complex of buildings in, as so often in Georgia, a beautiful location.

Gelati Monastery

Gelati was founded in 1106 by King David the Builder, who was responsible not only for much physical construction, but also for the building of an independent Georgia and a Georgian national identity. He may also be a distant ancestor of Bob.

Old stones, Gelati

The Academy, which has recently been restored, was a centre for Christian culture and Neo-Platonist learning and became, according to one medieval chronicler, a 'new Jerusalem'.

Lynne in the restored Academy, Gelati

In front of the Academy are the Cathedral of the Virgin and,....

Cathedral of the Virgin, Gelati

...because in Georgia one church is never enough, two smaller churches dedicated to St George and St Nicholas.

Church of St Nicholas, Gelati

Surviving an attack by the Ottoman Turks in 1510, the cathedral became the residence of the Patriarch of West Georgia until the monks were cast out by the communists in 1922. It was re-consecrated in 1988 and was used for the inauguration of President Saakashvili in 2004. It contains some of Georgia's finest frescoes and a mosaic of the Virgin and Child with the Archangels Michael and Gabriel, dating from 1130.

Virgin and Child with Archangels Michael and Gabriel, Cathedral of the Virgin, Gelati
The conservation work is much needed, but it does get in the way of my photographs!

David the Builder ushered in the Georgian golden age which crumbled a couple of centuries later under the twin, if unrelated, hammer blows of the Mongol invasions and the Black Death. Several of the monarchs from that era are buried at Gelati, though the resting place of Queen Tamar (ruled 1184 to 1213) is uncertain. She ranks second only to David the Builder in the pantheon of Georgian heroes and was such an effective ruler she is sometimes known as King Tamar - a serious compliment in the Middle Ages, if clumsily sexist today.

Iconostasis, Cathedral of the Virgin, Gelati.
The icon of St George, lower left corner of picture is especially revered

David himself is buried under the south gate as he wanted his people to walk across his grave as they entered, which might show a refreshing lack of ego in a medieval monarch, or maybe just a perverse manifestation of it. Ironically the south gate is no longer used as an entrance and many who go to see his slab of a gravestone take elaborate care to walk round him (as we did).

The South Gate and the grave of King David the Builder, Gelati Monastery

He is buried next to his son, Demetrius I, who was a musician and composer as well as a ruler. Dinara played us one of his songs on her iPad as we stood by his grave. What a medieval ruler would have made of his music still being played 900 years after his death to foreigners from barbarian lands unimaginably far away, and by means he would probably have described as sorcery, we can only imagine. Traditional Georgian music is polyphonic chant, a type of music we had only previously encountered in Corsica. Dinara was aware of this odd link with a distant Mediterranean isle (her breadth of knowledge was genuinely impressive) but, she told us with a little national pride, Georgian singing has more parts.

The remains of the actual gate, South Gate, Gelati Monastery

Central Kutaisi

We returned to Kutaisi. The city looks better when not approached through the areas of industrial dereliction but even so the streets give a clear indication that Kutaisi is far from the most prosperous city we have visited.

A Kutaisi street

The centre, though, looks better. The parliament has moved to Kutaisi and with the latest version of the constitution giving more importance to parliament and the prime minister and less to the Tbilisi-based president, Kutaisi has become the seat of the Georgian government, and has acquired some appropriate buildings. Sadly, we did not see the futuristic parliament building on the western edge of the city.

Central Kutaisi - clearly an important building, though I have no idea what

The city's centrepiece is a fountain which echoes its claim to have been the capital of a far older country. Western Georgia is the Colchis of Greek legend, and in search of the Golden Fleece Jason and the Argonauts rowed from the Black Sea up the River Rioni perhaps as far as Kutaisi which may have been the capital of the possibly mythical King Aeëtes. What are not mythical are the hordes of gold objects that have been recovered from ancient Colchis, some of them by Dinara's grandfather, and enlarged versions of several of these gold pieces decorate the fountain. We had seen many, maybe most of them, in the national museum in Tbilisi, and of course our old friend Tamada, the toastmaster with his drinking horn, was prominent amongst them.

Fountain, Central Kutaisi

Leaving Kutaisi we headed northwest across the rich agricultural land of the Kolkheti plain, the modern name echoing the ancient Colchis.

Our route so far

Zugdidi

We had lunch in Zugdidi, the small capital of the Samegrelo district. We ate at 'The Host', a popular three storey pub on the main drag. We lunched on the top floor where the waiters have to bring all the food and drink up two flights of stairs. The good service was a testament to their fitness.

'The Host', Zugdidi

Continuing our efforts to eat as many local specialties as possible - and with Dinara keen to point them out whenever they appeared on a menu - we both chose gomi described as cornmeal porridge, and best thought of as a pallid and rather sloppy polenta. The idea is that you hide a slice of Salguni cheese in the gomi so that it melts and then cover everything with a white walnut based sauce. Sadly, the combination of white on white inside white did not look appetizing, the gomi was not hot enough to melt the cheese and the polenta was uncompromisingly bland. It was the least successful of the specialties we encountered, but the spicy stuffed peppers, fried potato and trout were excellent, though it was, perhaps the smallest trout I have ever seen - we have eaten bigger sardines in Portugal.

Lynne, Dinara a tiny trout and a plate of gomi

At Zugdidi we were within 30km of the Black Sea, but we would not reach it for another three days. Zugdidi is the gateway to the mountainous Svaneti region, and that was where we went next, heading northeast along the banks of the River Inguri. For the next three days we would not stray far from the Inguri and its tributary the Mulkhara and would eventually come within a couple of hour’s walk of the Mulkhara’s source, a glacier on Mt Shkhara, Georgia’s highest peak.

The Inguri Dam

As the road climbs into the mountains it follows the Inguri’s sizeable gorge to the Inguri dam, at 270m high the second highest arch dam in the world,* and then runs up the eastern side of the lake.

The Inguri dam

The Inguri Valley

Abkhazia, Georgia's other breakaway region (for South Ossetia, see here) was on the other side of the lake. The Abkhaz speak their own language, quite distinct from Georgian, but the region had been linked with Georgia since medieval times. In 1921, under the Soviet Union, Abkhazia signed a treaty of union with Georgia and ten years later it became an ‘autonomous region within Georgia’. Stalin and Lavrinty Beria, then Secretary of the Georgian Communist Part and later Head of the NKVD oversaw the migration of Georgians into Abkhazia. In 1989 the Abkhaz made up only 18% of the population, but they dominated Abkhazia's Supreme Soviet which in 1990 declared independence as a separate republic within the Soviet Union.

The road runs beside Lake Inguri

As the Soviet Union crumbled Georgia tried to regain Abkhazia. A brief but vicious war in the early nineties resulted in the displacement of Abkhazia's Georgian population sending some 230,000 refugees to Georgia. Despite Russian backing for the breakaway, Georgia retained hope of regaining Abkhazia, and some 40,000 refugees even returned, but after the 2008 South Ossetia war, Abkhazia declared complete independence. Their independence is recognized only by Russia (and Venezuela, Nicaragua and Nauru) and fellow unrecognised breakaways South Ossetia, Nagorno Karabakh (now called Artsakh) and Transnistria. The Abkhaz are barely a majority in their own ethnically diverse country but remain in firm control of the government. Abkhazians might hold Russian passports and use the Russian Rouble, but they have shown little inclination to join Russia.

..and beside the River Inguri above

Higher up the gorge, dozens of vehicles of the Georgian environment agency lined the road, and there was a large police presence. Then we ran into what at first appeared to be a traffic jam outside one of the villages crammed into the narrow valley. It was, though, not a jam; the cars were parked and a crowd of men were making their way towards what already seemed to be a packed and angry meeting in the village square.

The environment agency, we later learned, were trying to enforce stricter rules to safeguard the forest and the protestors did not think the rules should apply to locals. Not understanding the argument and having no wish to take sides we were glad that Alex managed to pick his way between the parked cars, milling crowds and nervous officials.

A demonstration, not a traffic jam, Inguri Valley

We wound higher and higher into the mountains on a well-made road, occasionally detouring round rocks and boulders which had fallen from the cliffs above.

The road climbs higher into the mountains, Inguri Valley

As the road rose we entered the region of Svaneti. The Svan people have their own language, though unlike Abkhaz, it is of the Georgian language family and they have shown no yearning for independence. Living high in the mountains has always given them a measure of freedom, though they remain dependent on the valleys below for economic survival.

Approaching Mestia

Arriving at Mestia

In late afternoon we reached the remarkable small town of Mestia where we checked into the Hotel Tetnuldi on the edge of town, while Alex and Dinara made do with a B &B in the centre.

Our balcony had a wonderful, if inevitable intermittent, view of the snow covered peak of Mount Tetnuldi (4858m, 16,319ft) and a different though also splendid view over the town, which will be the subject of the next post.

Mount Tetnuldi from our hotel balcony

According to the Rough Guide the Hotel has the best restaurant in Mestia, but we were treated to an uninspired buffet and an overpriced bottle of beer. We quickly gained the impression that what should have been a good quality alpine-style hotel was drifting like a rudderless ship. We later learned that the builder, owner and driving force behind the hotel had recently died in a motorcycle accident and under the sad circumstances the lack of direction was perhaps inevitable.

*The highest at 292m is Xiaowan Dam on the Mekong River in Yunnan Province, China near the Burmese border


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