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  • Day6


    May 3, 2018 in Georgia ⋅ 🌙 21 °C

    It's already 2pm when we get back to our jeeps in the parking area and it will take us another 2.5 hours of bumpy driving in the dust on uneven tracks to get back to Mestia. Considering I have just had lunch and I will for sure not get the front seat, these are probably going to be the longest 2.5 hours at least of my recent life...
    Anyways, i somehow get back alive to the hotel, where I just have the time to get changed before jumping on the bus again. Not even mentioning my trekking shoes being completely covered with mud and horse poo (I don't know nor I want to know the proportion of each component as, luckily, the colour is the same), my jeans are a disaster: not only the original light blue colour has turned into an undefined ochre with brownish nuances, but the horse of a girl in my group decided that the lower part of my leg was the perfect tissue for blowing his nose and then scratch his forehead into. I am not going to describe what the result was... I will just say that I am seriously tempted to throw my trousers away in the first rubbish bin I find in this forsaken region close to the off-limits zone with Russia.

    Back to more cultural aspects of the holiday, the tour guide somehow manages to trick me to join him and a few elected on the bus heading to the museum instead of just hanging out with the others. After the second hall with exhibitions of fragments of old copper coins I realise I made a terrible mistake and silently sneak out of the museum with Jitka and Silvio (a funny French-speaking Swiss guy in our group). 😓
    After guilty running away like high-school students banking school, we walk to the town centre and sit in a café for a cappuccino. Considering that the average monthly wages here are 200 US dollars per person, prices in the café are extremely high (or, alternatively, they have a menu just for tourists).
    I obviously make friends with the umpteenth sweet doggy while sipping my latte macchiato and then decide to stroll in the streets of Mestia to really "live the town". I spend a good hour walking around the town and I soon realise I probably don't really resemble a local, as most people are gazing at me as if I were an alien...

    At 8pm we have a buffet dinner in our hotel and our tour guide Vato tries to explain the programme for tomorrow. What gets through, however, is just that we will have an endless drive (6 hours) to an (obviously unnamed) canyon in an unspecified location and that once we get there each of us will have the chance to make a choice: either go to the left... or to the right! Judging by the look of the puzzled faces all around me, I am not the only one to be slightly lost. But after almost a week together, we have learned that asking Vato for clarifications has the only result of making things even more confused. Let's get surprised tomorrow...

    Before going to bed we all gather in the bar of the hotel, but we are immediately chastised by the hotel manager for bringing our own bottles. Classic... 😓
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