Kazbegi - no words to describe


Advertisement
Published: August 4th 2008
Edit Blog Post

View of Tsminda SamebaView of Tsminda SamebaView of Tsminda Sameba

Taken from the path towards the Glacier
The old man tries to speak to me in Russian - I try to respond. My minimal Slovene glossary come in handy now. He asks me where I am from. I answer Daniya. He says something about Daniya and gori (mountain). I laugh and make the motion of flat. He gives up and leaves me to my own thoughts. I sit quietly and rest while looking down upon the village of Kazbegi. I sit at Tsminda Sameba, the church that represents Georgia in every tourist brochure. Mt Kazbeg is on the West site of the church and the village at the East, - right under my feet. 14 kilometers to the North lies Russia. I am in the heart of the Caucasus Mountains. On the border between Europe and Asia.









The drive to Kazbegi


As I arrived to Didube busstation the day before, a Georgian soldier looked curiously at me and asked in Russian if I was going to Kazbegi alone. I told him Da. From then on he took it upon himself to act as my protector in much the same way as he was for his own children. He gave
Mount KazbekMount KazbekMount Kazbek

taken from nearby Tsminda Sameba
me candy, he explained the time of departure, he gave me more candy. At 11 o'clock, just as the soldier had said the marshrutka left Didube station heading for Kazbegi.

Except from a young Latvian couple I found myself the only tourist in a minibus cramped with Georgians. Women with children, middle-aged men and a very old woman who complained a lot. All of them had bags and sacks full of tomatoes, onions and corn, and even a large old tv was squeezed in to the bagseat. How there came to be room for all of us, I still don't know.

I had hoped to sleep on the way, but quickly discovered that the trip itself was an unforgettable experience. The Georgian Military Highway runs through mountains and valleys and passes the beautiful setting of Ananuri out to the Zhinvali Reservoir, an extraordinarily beautiful greyish-blue lake. If I could I would have stopped there for an hour or two or even a day, relaxing at the side of the lake. But the marshrutka went on, further into the depths of the Caucasus mountains. After stopping in many of the small villages on the way, leaving behind people with
Caucasus mountainsCaucasus mountainsCaucasus mountains

On the Georgian Military Highway
onions, tomatoes and even a tv, we finally arrived in Kazbegi.

The mountains here are as a wall surrounding the eastern side, standing majestically over the village. To the west is Mount Kazbek with its 5047m peak and in the streets stand a lonely cow, dashing its tail lazily fighting off the flies.












Tsminda Sameba


I live at Nazi's place, mostly sitting on the veranda enjoying the view. She is a wonderful person who cooks and takes prodigiously good care of the many people who come here to stay a night or two. It therefore often happens that many decide to hang on and stay for a week or more. I would love to do that too, but unfortunately my time is limited and I still hope to get a glimpse of the summer back home.

This morning, bright and early at 7.30 while the morning sky was still clear and as the first light of sun hit the walls of the valley I started on a hiking trip to the famously situated church Tsminda Sameba. I was so fortunate as to be accompanied by a
sunset in the caucasussunset in the caucasussunset in the caucasus

the mountains surrouding Kazbegi
Polish guy who knew the way well. He had come to Kazbegi to climb the peak of Mount Kazbek but had had to give up because of the altitude. Now he had decided to join the rest of the group as they were descending, helping them with their bags and gear.

As we walked upwards the wheather got hot and the road seemed to be steeper. Half way up and while taking pictures of Mount Kazbeg from afar, a horseman came along the path from behind us. The horseman showed out to be Robert, the hired help for the mountain climbers. He was on his way with two extra horses in order to meet the climbers and help them carry their bagpacks for the last part of their descending Mt Kazbek. After a bit of greetings in Russian between the Polish mountain climber and the Georgian horseman, I was placed on one of the horses and we began the last part of our trip towards the church on horseback.



me, myself and horses - I am not a rider and it has been 10 years since I was last time mounted on the back of
me and the golden horse me and the golden horse me and the golden horse

on tha path to Tsminda Sameba
a horse. To be quite frank it allways comes as a shock to me that horses are so big and in particular that there is such a long way down. While holding the tongue straight in the mouth (as we say where I come from) I tried to focus on getting the horse to do just a bit of what I wanted it to do. It was a golden and rather social horse and far from comparable to any of the horses from the riding school I had once attended when I was still in my pre-teens. While they had all been old and grey and barely moving, this one was extremely lively, pretty annoyed with its terrified rider and constantly turning around. When we lacked behind which most often occurred due to my terrible riding skills the horse started to gallop as to once again have its head closely linked to the bottom of the horse ahead. I, who has never gallopped before in my life, could do nothing but hold on tightly and pray that the horse knew what it was doing, because the scenery as well was quite different from that of an indore riding school.
idylidylidyl

on the path to Tsminda Sameba


While I was holding on tightly to the saddle of the golden horse, we came within view of Tsminda Sameba. The sky was still blue and Mount Kazbek was majestically rising to our right, while the view to our left was that of the valley and the mountain wall behind it. As Robert had no problems with my lack of controlling the golden horse, we continued further than the church, moving towards the glacier and Mt Kazbek, riding on a small pass on the side of the mountain.

After a while and as I could feel that our party of three was sloved down by me, I chose to get off and thank Robert for the "lift". Then I slowly went back down, enjoying the view of a single church on a mountain top with snowcovered mountains as the bagdrop. Now I sit at the church next to the old Georgian man who is spying on the village of Kazbegi down below with a pair of binoculars. I suppose it is time for me to descend to Nazi's for a good Georgian lunch.








The Russian border




Additional photos below
Photos: 9, Displayed: 9


Advertisement

Tsminda Sameba in the morningTsminda Sameba in the morning
Tsminda Sameba in the morning

Tsminda Sameba Church seen from the west
caucasus horsescaucasus horses
caucasus horses

at Tsminda Sameba
View of Tsminda Sameba View of Tsminda Sameba
View of Tsminda Sameba

Taken from the pass leading to the Glacier


Tot: 0.081s; Tpl: 0.011s; cc: 11; qc: 33; dbt: 0.0352s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1; ; mem: 1.1mb