Monday, June 10 - Day 21

Well, this would be my last full day in the country. Once a day, there is a "proper" bus leaving from Mestia for Kutaisi, it departing at 8 am (there are of course marshutkas leaving, during the day). Remember the bus driver that gave me a ride in the evening? Well, not so much of a surprise, this guy was the driver, we smiled at each other.

At 8 am sharp, we pulled out of Mestia towards the south, stopping at random villages close to Mestia, with people getting in - but the bus did not fill up to the brink. The one thing I remember was that there was water dripping on me the entire way - even though it was not raining, it was sort of condense water. Still on the mountain road, we made a break at a café, I saw my driver eating something delicious, like an Indian curry with onions, I asked him what it was, without as much as asking me, he ordered a portion for me and signaled me to sit down with him - a cup of tea included. Nice of him, madloba!

We stopped in Zugdidi, then rode on, getting close to Kutaisi around 1:30 pm (so this trip took only 5 and a half hours, but was closer than Batumi). During the trip, I made a reservation close to the airport - and was convinced it was in the town of Kutaisi, where I had arrived three weeks earlier. I was looking forward to visiting some places I had not visited. When we were getting close to the airport, I noticed that the distance to my accommodation was actually increasing. Confused, I gave the phone to the driver and asked him to talk to my new hosts. They told me to get off the airport, so I bid farewell to him.

The hosts came after a 20 minute wait - with the very same type of car that I drive back home. Leaving the airport, we drove the exact opposite way, so now I understood what was going on - the room I had booked was close to the airport, correct, but in a town called Samtredia - a town of some 25,000 inhabitants and an important railway and road junction - not in Kutaisi.

The apartment was very pleasant, pretty much in the center. We agreed that my hosts would come and pick me up the following morning and drop me off at the airport,. At 3 pm, I went to discover the town, which turned out to be more interesting (more interesting - not nicer) than I initially thought.

I visited a large local market, where there were definitely more sellers than buyers. In the hall you see below, local goat cheese was being sold, so I bought some as present for my parents. The seller was a pretty teenage girl, who spoke broken English - here another customer, with perfect English, helped translate. He recommended that about 30 kilometers away there would be some thermal springs - I pondered about traveling there, but I thought better safe than sorry - I did not want that much hassle on my last day and let me admit - I had gotten quite tired. I walked back to the hotel, dropped off the cheese and went for another round.

Here I spotted a money being delivered to a financial institution, accompanied by a person with a machine gun, then entered a bakery - very similar to the bakeries in Pakistan. There was a very antic railway car at the station, then there was a theater and an impressive church, which, alas, was closed.

For dinner, I had spotted a restaurant on the way home from the market, it looked cook and had quite a few guests in it - though now that I recall, I do not remember seeing a simple lady guest, just men. I entered and ordered the eggplant with walnuts, then the delicious curry-like food I was treated to by the driver that noon. Well, I also enjoyed the chicken in garlic sauce, so thought to order it as well. This town is really not touristy, so prices were more than reasonable, all this food plus two beers and some bread was about €12, tip included. I could not even finish half of the food, so I made some stray dogs very happy that night.

On the way home, I heard music from a window and was wondering what was going on. A plump young girl came out and I asked her what that place was, in English. To my surprise, she answered in very good English, talking, talking, talking. She explained she was learning the cello, that she is the only cello played in town and is learning English, but has never been able to use the language to talk to anyone and that I was the first to she could practice with and that she has to travel so much to get to her music teacher and and and. When I was able to stop her, I asked what was upstairs and she told me to follow her and it was a dance choreographer, teaching dance moves to a couple getting married.

The young girl left and when the music was done, I chatted a bit with the dance teacher, she did not really understand English well, but she showed me some videos of her performances, more accurately, of the children she had been training with.

I got back to my apartment, where it was not easy to go to sleep, as next door was a restaurant, with young teenagers celebrating their school-leaving certification. Finally, at 11 pm, things got quiet, so it was time to go to sleep - me having to wake up around 3 am - to catch a flight at 6 am.