Down, but not Out in Georgia Pt 10: Truth is a Waterfall in Chule; Chaos a Build in Sadzeli; and Freedom a Cave in Vardzia


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July 21st 2014
Published: August 2nd 2014
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Akhaltsikhe, Georgia



July 20th 2014






"There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting"


Buddha



In the midst of movement and chaos, keep stillness inside of you”

Deepak Chopra



The truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you”

David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest





So once again there is no news from the Public Prosecutor as to when this saga will end. This is not distressing me, as I was intent to take advantage of my 'free' weekend in Georgia, and then see what eventuated come Monday morning.

Saturday July 19th: I wake up early and get a good start for my little adventure to Chule monastery (or Chulevi), near the town of Adigeni. It was a monastic community during the 11th century, with the current church constructed in the latter part of the 14th century when it became a major religious and cultural center for south Georgia. Now it is a cute little monastery with perhaps a dozen monks living there, tucked into the upper edge of a gorge next to the Kvabliani river.

I take the 8 am bus from Abastumani to Benara, forking out my only expense for the whole adventure (1 lira), and hitch a ride to Adigeni on a truck. I then walk the 8.5 km to Chule. Its the best time of the day and the countryside sings in the morning sun. Early on I see the impressive ruins of the Zanavi Fortress on a distant hilltop. I imagine getting a lift as the road climbs, but not a single car or truck passes going my way, only a few coming down. Opportunistically I wave to them, thinking I might be creating a 'bond' of friendship, in case they are coming back any time soon. After 5 km, a rocky dirt track peels off to the left of the sealed road. It's not unpleasant walking, and the one car that then passes is full of passengers so no lift. After another 3 km I enter a narrow gorge and expectation builds walking past the leafy banks of the Kvabliani. A stone cross high up heralds that the monastery is not far off.

The church itself is not so impressive from the outside, and is locked. As I walk past it, I notice a pool to the right and reserve a spot for my 'must swim in any water you see' event later. Higher up the track is the monastery, small but beautifully restored stonework in a sublime setting beneath the higher reaches of the gorge. There is a monk in the foreyard and I shake his hand, but there is not a lot of welcoming vibes ensuing as he re-enters the living quarters. I sit by the shade of a tree, meet the monastic dog (who could to with a wash) and eat a raw carrot.

I see a small track to the left of the building and figure it may lead to something nice higher up. I am not disappointed 5 minutes later when I get to a lovely little sheltered waterfall. I judge this place of tranquility to be the truer dwelling of god in the gorge, and I spread my arms in thanks for the beauty and peace and sing a mantra (Om nama Shivaya).As a cross reference, given the context, I also motion the sign of the Cross and in a moment of distant brain retrieval from what seems another life (when I was an Catholic 'altar boy'), find myself chanting in Latin (In nomine patri et fili spiritu sancte). Strange. I end by cupping my hands and mimicking a horn sound.



Back at the church, a novice Monk is receiving a visit from his family (the car that passed me earlier) under the trees. He unlocks the door for me and again I am in an amazing place. Old worn frescoes look down at me from on high in this cool refuge from the hot sun.

Out into the harsh light and I wonder down to the pool, do my thing with my gamcha, and immerse myself into the chilling water. Refreshed, I head back to Adigeni. When I pass the turn off to the fortress I fancy I might be able to climb up, but a young boy communicates to me that it is not possible. Half a km on, and a monk gives me a lift in the monastery's ancient Soviet-era van. He is delivering communion breads (hosts) and holy water (litres of the stuff from the blessed upper river I expect) to the nearby village parish of Chorchani. As do most Georgians, he cuts the engine on the main hill once we are back on the sealed road to coast and save petrol, using only the brakes. This is a tad harrowing, with little control of the vehicle and a lot of faith in failing Soviet-era technology. He also acts as the local bus service to several locals on their way down to Adegini.

Two hitches on and I am back in Abastumani by 12.30 pm. I decide to pack my things, check out, and head to Akhaltsikhe so as to get an early start for tomorrow's planned adventure to Vardzia. By chance, my friend Gelo stops by the hotel and we chat before he accompanies me to the road to wait for the 2.30 pm last bus to Akhaltsikhe.

Later that evening... after being fed by Irma back at the Akhaltsikhe guesthouse, Lova (her husband) insists I come with him 'to the village' where he must do some (plumbing) job. I reluctantly agree, figuring it could be interesting. It is. We go to Artur's half finished house. Artur I had met when staying at Akhaltsikhe before (a biker friend of Lova). He is a dentist, and able to afford this 'build' which is going to be a family country escape as well as serve as a bit of a 'biker boys' party venue. It is already done to lock-up stage, and soon the evening is a 'working bee' with about 8 other biker friends turning up (each with various trades and skills) who start digging and cementing, wiring and plumbing, drinking and joking, and generally having a good time.

Artur invites me to come with him on the back of his 1150 cc BMW to god knows where (Artur has no English). After what is best described as 'off-road' roads, we get to another small village and one of Artur's dental patient's house to collect a bag of fresh home-made produce (breads, cheeses, sour cream, yoghurt, cucumbers) and head back to the build. No money is exchanged so I figure this food is for services rendered.

Work continues into the night and at about 11 pm the mob sit down to cha-cha (local vodka... this batch having to be at least 70%!p(MISSING)roof), vino and food. I try and feign my drinking and resist top-ups as the alcohol starts to take affect, and manage to survive the last half dozen toasts on the few centimetres of vodka remaining in my cup. I wonder how the heck we are going to get back safely in the car. We do, and with head spinning (a very unpleasant feeling) I head to bed and eventually sleep.

Sunday July 20th : I lie in this morning (what? It's Sunday again?). Well, not exactly a leisurely lie-in: I am hung over and just keep waking and trying to sleep again. Eventually I am up by just after 7 (late for me), do my stuff and get going for the next adventure: Vardzia. I get to the bus station at 8.30 only to be told the only bus leaves at 10.30. I decide to try and hitch. I walk 2 km out of Akhaltsikhe and strategically park myself at the exit of a petrol station. This works well as the eye contact at low speed for cars coming out usually enhances possibility of a lift.... and I get one all the way to Khertvisi. This is good as it gives me a chance to check out the fortress there before going on to Vardzia. A young German couple on a self-drive holiday in their camper van then pull up and I am set for the last 16 km to Vardzia.

Vardzia is a cave monastery excavated from the steep cliff of the Erusheti Mountain in the narrow Mtkvari river valley. It's about 70 km south from Akhaltsikhe. The caves were mainly constructed during the second half of the 12th century and stretch about 500 m along the cliff with 20 tiers from top to bottom. What I see now are half open caves due to erosion and collapse of the original edifice over time. There is a significantly large church cut into the rock in the middle of the place (the Church of the Dominion) which dates to the 1180s. The frescoes are impressive. While the site was abandoned during the Ottoman takeover (16th century), it now includes a working monastery of monks.

I spend about an hour walking through the caves and wander back down to the carpark. The bus back to Akhaltsikhe is not due until 1 pm (it now being 11.30). I coincidentally run into Mamuka (a friend of Lova who was at Artur's last night). He just happens to be showing the place to some foreigners he met in Akhaltsikhe. He offers me a lift back (they are on their way up to the caves) but by 1 pm they are not back and I leave a note under his car wipers and decide to take the bus.

My thoughts today have been about doing these things alone.... and lamenting not being able to share them with anyone special. This too will pass, but it's a real enough thought. I watch it. I pace myself through the day, get back to my room, catch up on some sleep and.... so it goes.

Hanging around for the prosecutor coud begin to get a bit spare soon.

Though I have many negative thoughts, I will turn them all around


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2nd August 2014

Travel bloggers
At this point I think it may be safe to say that you have spent more time in Georgia than any other travel blogger. For years bloggers will be writing you asking for suggestions of must see sights in this country. You've seen almost every nook and cranny.
2nd August 2014

....in Southern Georgia
Correction Dave and Merry... every nook and cranny near Akhaltsikhe!!! So within Southern Georgia plus Tbilisi yes..... I was somewhat 'confined' by legal cirmcumstances!
2nd August 2014
Chule church

Silver linings!
Great adventures you had to gorgeous spots this weekend, so perhaps this latest extension of the prosecutor was for the best. Good luck with the legal absurdity. In the US, we say that throwing money at a problem, often makes it go away. Hope you don't have to throw too much!
3rd August 2014
Chule church

money and absurdity
Thanks Tara... well... just about to publish the final Act of the play (then there will be a prologue blog and we are done!). Thanks for the good wishes.

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