Touring the Shire
Trip Start
Mar 03, 2009
1
11
23
Trip End
Dec 31, 2009
Telavi, Georgia
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
"Only Jackals" she adds cheerfully.
Four hours later sees a still very wide awake Ben listening intently to Jackal fm. The curious whooping sounds range variously around our little camp and I clutch vainly at my walking stick expecting to see a pairs of jackal jaws come snapping through my tent at any moment. I would like to regale you with stories of brave exploits and daring acts of British courage in the face of predatory adversity. But unfortunately my gallantry extended only to rushed mindnight forays into the bushes for several rather unenjoyable urination sessions. Jackals are (apparently) not dangerous to humans. This said Natias friend had to kill two Jackals when camping in the same place we had put ourselves in. If you want a picture here's Wikipedia's take: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Golden_jackal. Had I known that it was a pack of these bastards that was making that noise you would instead have seen a rather hysterical Ben tearing wildly toward the nearest housestead.
Georgia to date was one of the best countries I experienced. It's a little bit like hobbit land. Parked between auburn Turkey, Armenia and Azerbaijan it's like someone has upended a green paint pot on just this little bit of land. Life here runs at a different pace- and rightly so. The capital city, Tbilisi, is barely even a million people and feels pleasantly like a highly cultured village. The rest of the country is a maze like connection of shack filled villages and gorgeous housteads. People saunter happily along the streets and there's no pressure to do anything or be anywhere- much how I imagined Hobbiton to be. Tiny shops are carved into walls, and people cruise languidly in ancient hobbit sized cars or more naturally by horse and cart. At a midnight Easter mass in Vardzia where monasterial apartments stretch Bag-end like into the hillside I was a clear head taller than everyone else in the packed church- though this is not hard for one of a trollish condition. The people, whilst also tending toward a rotund hobbit like physique, are not intrusive or 'in your face' (a welcome break after Turkey). Though a little strange at times they are good natured, as hobbits are, and I was lucky enough to stay with a family for most of my time there. Though few hobbits will understand english you dont need to speak hobbit to feel the love. People on the whole are genuine and helpful whilst also being irreverent and vigorous.
During my stay we visited about a hundred hobbit sized churches, ate a tonne of excellent hobbit food and drank more than enough hobbit ale and Chacha (pronounced Jaja- and really truly revolting). On my first day we were looking for a hotel and this guy in the street offered his friend's apartment for us to stay in. The next morning he came round with breakfast. I wouldn't call it a traditional breakfast, as he had favoured a 2l bottle of Natakhtari beer inplace of actual food but it was a great meal none the less. The country is very poor and the tourist infrastructure virtually non-existent. We toured the country as locals do, in marshrutkas. The marshrutka (that's minibus to us humans) was always a fantastic experience. Crammed with people of every age and size, many was the time I found my 6'4" self sandwiched unconpromisingly between 18 stone cider scented farmers, and 4'2" granny's carrying what must have been their own weight in aberrant bric-a-brak goods. Crashing violently on potholed 'roads' these minibuses are the life line of the nation and cost peanuts for us tall folk- I loved every journey.
Comments
Greetings from Sydney
You're a funny man Mr Andrews. Here's to apologies for this very belated TravelPod-joining-exercise. I have read the majority of your travel blogging adventures but shall hopefully post some sexy comments (esp. involving places I'm familiar with) in the near future. I hope you're marvelously well and not running out of money.