The Caucuses

Jason and I took off to go to the Ethnographic museum stretched over 20 hectares up on the mountain, our mountain, on this side of the city. We had read that you could go to Vake Park and trudge up there in about twenty minutes, thus making it a two-for. So, we took a bus to the park and struck out into the park's center.

Soviet era memorial to WWII- with graffiti

"Eternal" flame from the WWII memorial

No signs, though. We just randomly stumbled down roads, striking out in the general direction we thought the museum lay. We ended up on a winding vertical road, but figured we were on the right path because a steady stream of taxis was heading up there. It was cheap to get in- about $1 a piece. Sadly, the place was kind of in ruins with overgrown paths leading to ramshackle structures that were closed. We found 3 buildings that were open. It needs a bit of a cash infusion.

Peasant home at the Ethnographic museum

Yesterday we hauled up to the caucuses; we were in Mskheta-Mtianeti, the region next to South Ossetia. Ani arranged a driver for us, who as Jason described, was the least talkative taxi driver in all of Georgia. He drove like Thomas, all bat-of-hell, goal-focused and don't-get-in-my-way, up this winding mountain pass (the old Russian military highway to Vladikavkaz) occasionally slamming on his breaks for cows, pigs and sheep in the road... and sometimes all three led by a shepherd on horseback. We missed about a million pictures as villages flew by in a blur of colors. He was clearly pushing the Kia sedan we were in to the edge of its specs.

Once we got way north, we ran into construction, which meant our single lane road suddenly turned to mud and was shared by chinese dump trucks and volvo backhoes.

I wish I could have gotten some video of the mad scrambling that ensued- cars going and coming, swarming over all sides of the road seeking the lesser of the car consuming pot-holes and, then, with inches to spare, they reorganized to pass, although not always on the "correct" side. We went through tunnels without lights and finally arrived in the town of Stepantsminda, where the Gergeti Trinity Monastery is located. A Niva 4x4 pulled up alongside and offered us a lift to the monastery on the mountain. I had wanted to hike it. We were told it was about an hour walk, but gaging the distance from where we stood, it looked like at least two in each direction. And it was raining. So, we paid Niva man his exhorbitant 50 lari price tag (about 30 USD). And Man was it worth it! Not because of the trail or the rain, but because being hauled up the side of the mountain in the Niva 4x4 was insane! (and as Jason and I agreed, worth every penny) I don't think another vehicle could've handled the narrow, muddy, washed out roads (that we shared with other Niva's racing up and down the mountain). Jason physically clung to various parts of his seat and the car, but when he reached for his seatbelt, "ne nado! ne nado!" was shouted over the growl of the engine and the constant ping and scrape of rocks: You don't need it! he assured Jason that no cops were around. We leaned at precarious 45 degree angles and backed up around switchbacks to let others pass, and on a couple of occasions I'm not sure what happened because I just closed my eyes.

Neva Ride

Gergeti Trinity Monastery

View from the monastery- such as it was

Niva 4x4's scrambling back down the mountain to Stepantsminda

On our trip back, if I was able, I yelled a pre-emptive stop request to our driver.

Church clinging to the edge of a mountain

I still didn't get any of the centuries old towers that lined the pass at 20 to 30 miled intervals (we always turned at the wrong time) nor did I get the burned out "Univermag" (store) from the Soviet era, abandoned on the roadside. The weather cleared as the valley widened. The impossibility of the region was quite striking; we had no doubt why the Turks, the Russians, the Soviets, and the Russians again found the region unruly and unconquerable. It was a jumble of mountains and hidden villages up narrow passes. We hit up one last fortress, maybe the start of the towers that line the pass, before we left the high mountains and returned to Tbilisi.

Ananuri

Jason outside the walls

NOTE: The students told us yesterday, on our trip out to the wine region, that the road we were on was featured on the "Worlds Most Dangerous Roads"program... ack.