Trippin’

And yet another time that my trip start in a very standardized way… I’m beginning to think that it isn’t simple coincidence anymore. For those who haven’t fancied looking through my older blog posts, this is how most of my travels start:
‘Not to forget, the three days before somehow ended up with some serious drinking – at this point I would like to thank my new neighbor and his excellent wine, the welcoming staff from ISCR and local friends and their special taste in alcohol – which cannot be considered good preparations for such a trip in high altitudes. ‘ (In fact, the number of blog articles does not correspond with the number of travels that I’ve experienced so far. In a later post, I might just describe my outstanding training for practically any of my adventures).

But let’s head back to the actual plot of my story, since this is why the average reader came here. The preparations for the travel to the monastery, carved out of a solid mountain, were intentional. The travel itself, however, was not planned at all as I was sure that I couldn’t have gone with the other volunteers from my flat. For the unaware reader, this means that I drank a lot and that I didn’t want to go to that monastery in first place. One more detail that needs to be added to amplify the feeling of the dear reader that the author is usually in a situation of complete confusion and/or has no notion of organisation: A couple of days ago, an official from the sending organisation and I agreed on having a meeting via skype on a calm Sunday night. Initially, what I understood, was that it shall be a smaller meeting with 3-4 people. All of them from the sending organisation.
On that particular Friday the 20th November, the volunteers from three different organisations in Rustavi assembled on that night to celebrate the birthday of one of our dear volunteers, Emilia. As she claims to be quite old (24), her taste in music is comparably antique and so was the theme on which our party was based: 60s. Resulting in great music and awesome decoration… absolutely unrelated to any chemical substances. Before the party had started, we had three bottles of vodka and two bottles of wine. As the guest arrived, our amount of bottles raised to almost 10. None of them made it until dawn.
The very next day everyone was feeling sick and tired, except from me (all of my hiking training was not completely in vain). I then decided to meet up with Nodo (initially my mentor), with whom I spent another evening with a lot of chacha. His friends quickly accepted me as a drinking companion.
So how’s all of that related to a trip I shouldn’t have attended or a meeting that was planned to take place on Sunday?
The skype conference took place on Saturday instead of Sunday. Not with 3 or 4 people, but with a room full of scouts who want to come to Georgia for the next project in 2016 and who eagerly awaited some constructive feedback from an experienced volunteer. A little embarrassing on my part; luckily I did fine. And as all of this hadn’t been enough, I joined the others on the trip to David Gareja the next morning.

Actual plot starts about here!
The real story begins with the sunrise on early Saturday morning. No clouds disturbed the homogeneity of the blue above us. Right after breakfast we proceeded towards the purchase of bread and food for the upcoming hiking. The trip could start!
Fun fact: We already tried to get to David Gareja a couple of months ago, yet were unable to reach it by one way as there are simple no cars driving (We adore hitchhiking). And as the hiking went on and the water vanished, we realised that our unprepared group simply couldn’t have reached our destination. On that faithful day, we were defeated by the unsupportable heat and the sheer distance before us…
Did this experience make us learn from our mistakes and make us take the other way through Tbilisi instead of the shortest path? Which seems like a good alternative, as there are numerous cars taking the alternative way. The answer is, of course, no. We decided to take the same path, ended up with no cars at the exact spot as the time before. However, we agreed on going anyway.
On the way to the monastery our small group of 5 people (imagine 5 people hitchhiking in already half-full cars) encountered loads of military bases, some abandoned buildings close to the Azerbaijan border and a reference to Monty Python’s The Holy Grail. At one point after 10km of walking, a miraculous car from Bulgaria showed up and brought us to the village close-by. Instead of visiting the monastery, we settled down in a Polish owned restaurant/bed&breakfast and had some free wine (a gift from some Lithuanian ambassador) and ginger tea. If somebody’s interested in meeting the entire Georgian-based European diplomacy and enjoying a tasty – but a little expensive – meal, Oasis Club in Udabno (უდაბნო, which means ‘Desert’) is the perfect spot for new acquaintances.

The way back to Rustavi was much faster and easier, as we decided not to walk all the way back (sunset was already approaching) but to hitchhike via Tbilisi. By coincidence, our group managed to hitchhike the former French ambassador, his Georgian wife and his 2 children. Supposedly not as a matter of welcoming, the driver hit me on the forehead with the door as he tried to leave the car… a car door has quite some momentum.

This smaller brain trauma is an acceptable transition for the next part of the trip the very next day:
The actual plot starts again, part II. On that next day, our group (now consisting of 4 people) longed for more and higher mountains in the icy West of the district Javakheti. In the rather desolate area around Tsalka Lake, the mountains of Small and Big Aduli towered above the magical scenery of the lake.
How can a brain trauma be considered acceptable as a transition between a magnificent landscape and a trip to a monastery? Probably because no other travel has brought us closer to hospital or to God himself… but more details to this later.
Soon after dawn, all volunteers from my flat (including me) left Rustavi and were on the road just before sunrise. The trip (by hitchhiking of course) took us a couple of hours. Funnily enough, instead on encountering higher temperatures as the sun was rising, the entire scenery around us appeared to have become all the more white. Snow was mounting and covering the lonely road at some spots. The area around the lake was completely covered in snow and ice… one could imagine what the nights would be like.

Once at the lake, one of our drivers advised us to abort our travel, because the one side of the mountain toward the lake was too steep and unsafe to climb. So one had to walk all around Didi Aduli in order to be relatively safe. However, this is a very remote area and once stuck there, it would quickly become hazardous as the temperatures were never much higher than congelation point and would surely drop below 0° at nighttime (well, the night is dark and full of terrors).
As always, friendly advice fall on deaf ears and we proceeded our travel. It turned out to be more challenging than expected in first place. The snow was partly knee deep, followed by icy and slippery places. And after hours of exhausting hiking, with every footstep ending up in – at least – ankle deep snow, we reached the foot of the mountain; we were not able to reach the top as nightfall wasn’t too far away anymore. In order to save time, the way down from the mountain was quickly covered by simply sliding down the icy side. A perfectly fine way of traveling, despite the small chance of finding hidden stones underneath the ice.
No matter to what dangers we had been exposed during that time, it was back in civilisation when Emilia hurt her knee as she slipped and we felt hunted by wild dogs. Also the local taxi mafia was giving us a hard time. Until now our small group is sure that they blocked cars that could we have stopped. Yet, those leeches got nothing from us, because there was a van that finally ‘rescued’ us from the frozen mountains.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Apart from a regular, average street crossing in Tbilisi, the trip to Tsalka was the most dangerous experience so far. A minor accident in the vicinity of the mountain could have resulted in serious consequences, as no one was prepared for a hike in the night or for the temperatures (I brought some bandages for ankle sprains, so we were not unprepared altogether). But in case anything goes wrong, we can always call Ucha our Coordinator. He could get us out of any situation.
Ironically enough I got a small sunburn on the second day and not in the desert…