“Go up to the house and ask for Natela.”
Wes and I recently returned from visiting our dear friends, Mr. and Mrs. Greyhound (their nom de voyage), in the Republic of Georgia. We’ve been friends with the Greyhounds since we were all in college, and they are very dear to us. So as soon as COVID made international travel seem doable (if not quite prudent), we made the plan to visit them.
Georgia is a land of rich culture, a complicated history, and some of the most beautiful mountains in the world. Which is why Wes, Mrs. G., and I were sitting on a grassy hillside just outside the mountain town of Zhabeshi, waiting for Mr. G to return from Natela’s. We had hiked nearly ten miles on this, the first day of a four-day trek, and we were tired. A blog we’d been following promised us a low-key beer garden at about this point. The mountains were incredible to behold, the company was equally wonderful, but it was hot and hard-going, and we kept talking about how good that cold beer would taste. When we passed through the village without a beer garden sighting, Mr. G. took matters into his own hands by asking a man at a construction site if there was a market nearby. That’s when he was directed to Natela’s house.
While Mr. G went hunting for beer, the rest of us plopped down onto a grassy hill. Almost immediately, a cat and dog meandered over to us. Georgians seem very tolerant of—welcoming even—of stray animals. They are petted and fed and otherwise treated like friendly neighbors. So we weren’t surprised to see these animals approach us. What did surprise us was their appearance. The cat—a trim, spry creature—had a two-tone face. And the dog had what looked like eyebrows and a grin.
“That dog looks weirdly human,” Mrs. G. commented.
“It’s the mouth,” I said. “It looks like it has lips.”
“I think someone’s trapped inside,” Mrs. G. said.
After what seemed like a rather long time, Mr. G. appeared with a two-liter of room-temperature beer and four disposal cups the size of tiny cups you’d get at the dentist. Natela turned out to be a kind woman and very happy to sell Mr. G. some beer and bottled water. Then why did it take so long? She’d been in the middle of shearing a sheep, and it took a few minutes for her to finish up.
In the four days we trekked across mountains and stayed at guesthouses, why focus on this story? I suppose it’s because the trip consisted of two kinds of experiences. On the one hand, immense natural beauty had us oohing and aaahing. On the other, a series of small moments of laughing or discomfort or connection made this trip memorable. I’ll mostly rely on these photos to give you a sense of the natural beauty.
As for other memorable moments, here are a few more:
- Debating and discussing whether we would try and cross a river on foot or pay the equivalent of $7 US dollars to be taken across a river on horseback. Deciding to go by horseback, only to turn around to see Mr. G plunging into the river. “Uh, I guess he decided to cross on foot.”
- Listening to a fellow guest in the very rural village of Adishi ask for milk for her coffee and realizing that our host had stepped out to grab milk…literally. Well, not so much grabbing the milk, I suppose as the udders.
- Making it to our final destination, the UNESCO World Heritage Site of Ushguli, home to dozens of Svan towers which have been used since medieval times as barn, home, and defense post, all rolled into one.
- Trying to leave Ushguli with a driver whom we had hired to pick us up, only to realize that we’d inadvertently crossed some kind of taxi syndicate who was very unhappy with him and us. We couldn’t understand a word they said, except maybe the mention of Mr. G’s workplace as an excuse, but it took a long time before we (very relieved) were on the road.
- Eating at a local restaurant in Mestia that was proudly flying its pro-Ukrainian, anti-Russian colors.
- Watching the movie Dede in a local pub, then finding out the movie was cast and shot locally, in the very area we had just trekked through. The woman who runs the pub happened to be the casting director and the director’s sister…a local event indeed. Read more about the movie on Mrs. G’s blog.