Through Georgia.

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Thursday March 22.
I had a good nights sleep and this morning tried briefly to turn on my side. It was very painful so I took a tablet and got out of bed. The town has lots of gambling joints and groups of young men in black leather jackets hanging around occasionally jumping into or out of Mercedes cars. All around is terrible poverty especially among the old or the very young. This is capitalism Georgian style, arrogance, a Mercedes car and large quantities of vodka in the men only restaurants.
The faces of the young are racked by poverty and the old by vodka.

Friday March 23.
I left Batumi on the coast road which is fairly hilly and in poor condition so at Kobuleti I decided to cut across rather than go onto Poti, heading for Samtredia. It was a big mistake. The road has lots of hills and worse still has a terrible surface. In places it barely exists. I frequently had to walk. In the afternoon the wind picked up and slowed me further .I finally got to Samtredia at 4.30 and checked into a communist era hotel now full of refugees from Abkhasia, a very depressing place indeed.

Saturday March 24.

Sam’s birthday but I cannot access the internet anywhere. The hotel is terrible. I even had a visit from the police probably checking that I was not a spy. I set off but by mid-morning I gave up. The wind was simply too strong bringing me to a stop even on the flat road. I checked into a good hotel on the main road and had the first shower in some days and managed to wash some clothes. There was a decent restaurant next door run by a Turkish guy.
My back is getting better with the pain much reduced.

Sunday March 25.
I set off early with the wind now from the west. I made excellent progress and flagged down a van to take me through the tunnel at the top of the pass before descending to the plain in which Gori lies. Once again a wise decision as the tunnel was full of terrible potholes. I stayed at the old Intourist Hotel which is in a dilapidated condition. Once again no showers.

Monday March 26.
At 10 am I went to the Stalin museum. I was the only visitor. A stout lady showed me around. Sixty six years ago she would have been digging anti tank ditches in front of Moscow to make up for Stalin’s mishandling of the first few crucial days of the Great Patriotic War.
I asked her some questions, for example on Lev Kaganovich, but she looked totally blank. She enjoyed discussing Marshall Zukov so we stuck to him. The museum was on the one hand very sad, on the other hand an affront to the thousands of people who died in the camps. The museum should be dismantled or even destroyed and replaced by a memorial to the many dead.
Could we have a similar museum in Braunau in Austria?
I set off for Tibilisi in the light rain and arrived mid - afternoon. I managed to find with some difficulty Irena’s homestay which is heaven especially compared to the places in which I have stayed.

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Photos

Stalin's house.
This little cottage was where Josef Dzugashvilli lived with his parents until he was 15.Now enclosed by a stone canopy.

Stalin's death mask.
Sureal religious setting for the death mask in the museum.