Georgia > Party at the Imperial Hotel

Ushguli awakens under a beautiful sunny sky. The watchtowers stand out nicely against the snow-capped peaks. It is so beautiful here. This view makes up for the shower—there apparently isn’t any hot water, and barely any cold water either. I wash my face with a tiny trickle of water. Since the Zagar Pass to Lentekhi is still closed due to snowfall, we have to take the same route back to Mestia. Because it’s dry now and the sun is shining, the road drives a bit better, but we still have to constantly search for the best patch with the fewest potholes. Probably due to all the bumping in the Land Rover, but we have to stop more often than usual for bathroom breaks. After three hours of driving, we are back in Mestia. Proud that we all completed the pass to Ushguli, we settle on a terrace in Mestia. What a beautiful and adventurous journey. Beyond Mestia, traffic increases again. The road has fewer potholes, but because the speed is higher, hitting a hole has greater consequences. We keep scanning the road for potholes, subsidence, or rocks. Safely, we reach the dam again. We decide to drive a good distance toward Kutaisi. That way, tomorrow’s journey to Gori will be shorter, and we can take it easy for the day.

Georgia - The car did not get cleaner from the mountain roads

Along the roadside, there are striking cemeteries. Family graves are almost like holiday homes, so large are they. This gives the cemetery more the appearance of a community garden complex. In the towns we pass, traffic is every man for himself. It’s fortunate that most cars have three brake lights, because at least one often still works—the rest are broken. Bumpers are often missing as well. License plates are mounted directly on the car, probably after damage. Around six o’clock, we enter Kutaisi, the third-largest city in Georgia. We park the Land Rover on the central square. No idea whether it’s paid or not; we can’t read the signs. On a terrace, with a view of the opera and the Bagrati Cathedral above it, we have a beer. Our guesthouse is near the center. When we arrive in the street, we don’t immediately find it. From the opposite Imperial Hotel, someone points us to our destination. The old house has something of a haunted house vibe, but the rooms are fine. Since we don’t know quickly how to arrange a taxi here, we decide not to fuss in the evening and have dinner at the Imperial Hotel. The large dining hall looks a bit bleak, but we decide to sit down anyway. The live music is loud, though there are hardly any people. The menu is only in Georgian. We ask the waitress to prepare something with chicken, pork, beef, and salad. This seems doable. From another table, a Georgian man offers us a carafe of white wine. A kind gesture, but the wine is undrinkable. Meanwhile, the long tables around us are being served. Will more people arrive? Before we know it, girls with their mothers enter. It seems like some kind of mother-daughter gathering. The children run around and dance to the music. We have no idea exactly where we’ve ended up—but it’s fun.