10/6/2019 0 Comments Good Karma in MartviliWhen you travel people are always full of advice for things you should do and places you should go and sometimes you can't do everything. One of these tips we got was from Acacia's yoga teacher in Brussels, who's friend is setting up a hostel in Georgia. For a while we hesitated because it was a back-track (which Acacia hates). Eventually we went, partially also because - Belgium being so small - Jasper realised they had tonnes of friends in common. And we are so glad that we did.
The owners Wout and Max (childhood friends from Leuven) and Ema (Woody's Polish girlfriend) bought a beautiful old Georgian house in Martvili, a little town known for it's canyons and waterfalls. There were six other travellers there who were volunteering to help get the renovations finished before the grand opening of the hostel this summer (travellers do all manner of things to avoid boredom while on the road). Naturally we pitched in and helped out where we could. Becoming sort of accidentally part of the 'workaway' system (working a couple of hours a day for food and a bed) was actually great. Travelling mindlessly is a lot of fun, but contributing to something meaningful was a nice variation to the last three hedonistic months. So it was hard work, but more than worth it for the awesome group of people we met and the fun we had. That says a lot about how good these three remarkable people are in creating a fun vibe and we have a huge amount of respect for them. As we write this, they are making the final touches (the front of the house already looks totally different since we left). For anyone going to Georgia (something everyone should do), a stop at the Karma hostel comes highly recommended.
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10/6/2019 0 Comments Meet DedeIf you read our post on the Ushguli - Tsana mountain pass, you may have noticed a German Shepherd on the photos. She was an integral part of this story, but we didn't mention her as she deserves her own whole post.
When we left Ushguli, this young wee dog followed us up through the pastures. Being folowed by dogs around here isn't wholy abnormal so we didn't pay much attention. When we got to the snowy pass, we assumed she would turn back. She didn't. She ran far ahead of us, terrorising the few mountain birds, bounding wildly across snowy fields. We came over the top of the pass and started the hell-ish descent down the slippery slopes towards the closest village. She followed. Or led. Sometimes it was hard to tell. At some point we realised that we were accidentally luring her further and further away from home. We felt awful. Was this a stray dog? Or someone's pet? Could she make it back? Was she too young to realise what she was doing? We tried all sorts of tricks to send her home - leaving piles of food and madly biking off, we even resorted to gingerly throwing stones in her direction. Nothing worked, she kept coming. She camped with us for two nights, one night in the pouring rain. She stayed close to our tent, never once barked, and ran about our camp playfully. When we biked, she ran by whomever was in the lead, delighting in the sprints. At one point we were biking 30km an hour (in an attempt to lose her), and she kept up. We pondered whether having a dog by our side would help chase off other annoying dogs. Quite the opposite - she was in heat so whenever we passed through a village we were chased by hordes of male dogs. We got very protective of her and furiously chased off the persistent ones that trailed us for what felt hours. Eventually and with a great amount of regret we had to say goodbye to her, we had many more kms to do and we couldn't feasibly adopt a dog. We were finally on the asphalt once again and had some nice downhills coming up. It was heartbreaking to do, but we biked our little hearts out and exhausted ourselves, finally managing to lose her. One local guy told us these dogs love to spend summer following tourists across the pass. We really hope this is true and that she made her way back home. In that case, she was the best guide dog we could've asked for. This was the story of Dede (we named her after a film set in her hometown) who for a few delightful days turned us from a group of two into a group of three. 10/6/2019 0 Comments You shall not passWhile on the ferry to Georgia we planned a big loop of 350km through the high Caucasus mountains, from Zugdidi to Kutaisi, before we would head further East to Tbilisi. We knew that the succes of this endeavour would depend on one thing: would we be able to cross the 2600m pass from Ushguli to Tsana, where there was a high chance that there would still be snow?
As soon as we got to land we started asking around. The first signals were not very hopeful. Some people pointed at their waist to indicate up until where we could expect snow. Not really appropriate biking conditions. In Mestia, a little ski resort and the base for further ventures into the mountains, the tourist information centre said very firmly that the pass was closed and couldn't be crossed. The next day we decided to go ahead anyway and ride on to Ushguli, a small village high up in the mountains. For the final verdict we asked the person who we thought might have the lastest inside information, the lady behind the counter in a little supermarket. She said that it could be done, that there was only a small patch of snow to get past. And we had full confidence in her judgement, probably because it was what we wanted to hear. Leaving late the next day, as usual, we started climbing. We knew that the pass was only 8km from Ushguli, so after about 6km we were pretty convinced that it would be a piece of cake. We had passed the small patch referred to with limited effort. A little further along the snow really started and it was pretty hard work. But, after an hour and a half pushing our bikes through the snow we reached the top, where we proudly proclaimed victory. Way to early. What we hadn't factored in was that the other side of the mountain lay in the shadow and therefore there was a lot more snow and for a much longer stretch down into the valley. It took us another four hours to carefully manouevre our bikes through the snow, even though it was downhill. There was a lot of slipping and falling involved, both from the bikes and us, and crawling through bushes, but in the end we made it. And we were rewarded with what was probably our best camping spot so far, a deserted village with a stunning view on a the mountains and a glacier. |
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