Thursday, June 6 - Day 17

Once again, I went in for an early swim in the sea, then packed my stuff and called a cab to get to the marshutka station.

Back in 2016, all the fellow bikers I had met talked about Svaneti, a historic, mountainous province in the northwestern part of Georgia.It is a place where everyone wanted to go, but when I was visiting, the roads were still blocked by snow, in addition, it is often stormy up there. Checking the weather, I saw a window of opportunity to travel there - and now that we are in June, there were no longer blockages due to snow.

Georgia is not a large country, Mestia, the "capital" of Svaneti, is just over 250 kilometers from Batumi and there were buses running every hour to the north. I was told, though, that this trip would not take the usual 4-5 hours, but more like 8 (!), as the roads were anything but perfect, plus it was a lot of ascents.

As usual, I reserved the seat 1C on a marshutka and still had some time to kill before departure. I visited one more site I had not discovered in Batumi, this is a large covered bazaar, with lots of small alleys.

Departure was at 12:30 - me reminiscent about the nice time I had spent in Batumi - but was also looking for more adventures. We drove by the sea, pretty much on the same road that Ella had taken me on the previous day - I even spotted the café we visited in Kobuleti. The guy on seat 1B told me, in very much broken German, that he had worked a year in Austria, he spoke about 3 worda. When we had to stop due to a pig crossing the road, he said "Putin!". He was probably not for the Russian cause in the war.

At about 3 pm, we reached the town of Zugdidi, halfway between Batumi and Mestia (we needed two and a half hours for roughly 130 kilometers). There we had to change buses. It was quite confusing where the next marshutka for Mestia would be leaving from. When I finally found it, it was not a pretty sight - it was absolutely full of tourists heading up the mountain with large backpacks. I did find one place, seat 3B, so a middle seat with hardly any space for my knees, this was probably the worst economy seat, no wonder it was the laat one. There was some hectic discussion in Georgian going on between the drivers, when we were told a second bus would be leaving, but it would be only in an hour or so. I preferred waiting for that option, than traveling in cattle class, so I got off.

I made a feeble attempt at renting a bike, as I would have loved to make the ascent on two wheels. I did find a bike shop, they did not rent and even the bikes for purchase would have been way too small. There was one place renting cycles according to the web, I called and they said they were no longer in that business. Oh well.

"My" minibus was an ancient one, without a room for luggage rack in the trunk- no issues, the driver hopped to the top of the bus and we handed him our backpacks, him tightening these with ropes. The silver lining was that it was not crowded and while 1C was already taken, I took a seat right behind the door, so had ample legroom in this exit-row seat. And off we rode.

My biking heart hurt as we were veering up the mountain, It was a great mountain road, well, full of potholes and fallen rocks, but amazing views all around. I would have loved riding up there. We did pass a "road warrior", a fully loaded cyclist, I waved to him - and would meet two days later.

We stopped for a break close to a lake, a great photo opportunity.

Another stop was about an hour later, next to a roaring river. There was a small shed of a store, the daughter of the owner greeting the visitors.

There were still two more hours to go - but I was a happy fellow, being greeted by one beautiful view after the other of the surroundings. There was also a fellow traveler from Canada, Ryan, I was chatted with him - so time flew by quickly.

It was only around 8 pm that we reached Mestia, so we needed four hours for the 130 kilometers, averaging just over a rather modest 30 km per hour. I still did not have a room, as the internet connection on the way up was spotty, so after arrival, I started searching. In high summer, Mestia must be crowded, now I had plenty of options to pick from. Considering the distance from the bus stop, the price and the quality, I picked a place for below €20 per might. Ryan booked a different hotel, he left for it, but soon came back and told me no one was at his pre-booked accommodation. I suggested he could try getting a room at "my" place. It ended up being a great selection, I got a beautiful, newly remodeled room of light wood, with a balcony offering views of the mountain top - and a couple of guard towers in sight. Ryan was right next-door.

I had seen the first guard tower in Kazbegi, then one in Juta - here is Mestia, there were dozens of them and this is what, amongst other things, makes Svaneti a UNESCO World Heritage place. As I leant, in the past, here in the north, this used to be an area without a ruler or a landlord, so each family was pretty much left on their own. So they had to defend themselves both from external foes, but also from their neighbors - blood feud (vendetta) was common, supposedly even now (or at least in the recent past). There would be a movie I would see about this - and life in Svaneti in general - have their own laws. Today it is a touristy area, quite safe.

After checking in, we went for a walk in town and had a rather delicious kebab to go for dinner, which we enjoyed in a park.

After sitting on a bus for almost eight hours, I was looking forward to a hot shower and a good sleep.