travel
Svaneti: Georgia unveiled
a holiday in the Caucasian mountains
People in Mestia do not lock their doors. So did the door to the guest house we stayed at remain ajar, occasionally being obstructed by a gray cat, who would welcome you in, perhaps hoping for a reward. The dogs were there, too – and in the quiet evening we would observe them – Lucy and Bobby – playing their hide and seek, which could always transition into a fight. They probably had it all figured out – with such expertise did tiny Lucy bite on the ear of a big and clumsy Bobby, who had not managed to sneak into fences with the same grace. All of these ephemeral delights we observed from a hammock after the midday heat of the mountainous sun gave way to the upcoming freshness of the night.
Mestia is a townlet in Svaneti, Georgia, a region unique through its Svan towers and high mountain peaks, from 3000 to 5000 meters. People who come to Svaneti usually go for its wild nature and breathtaking hikes, waterfalls, glaciers, and so on – anything you wish from high altitudes during summer. For me and my mom, alongside the hikes and nature, it was the quaint serenity and wishing for the nothingness we aimed for, merely watching the dogs on the terrace while drinking tea and looking at the snowy peaks in the distance.
It was our first day in Svaneti when we went for an easier hike (as we imagined it), that began with the cable car to Zuruldi to the 2348 altitude. Astonished by the abundance of flowers and the panorama from the top, we enjoyed authentic Georgian cuisine on the terrace. From there, we would walk back down to Mestia, walking by a swing facing the mountains, savoring cold coffee with ice cream in a tranquil cabin, meeting strangers who shared our direction, and even someone who would suggest dropping us off at Mestia on top of the logs they carried. We continued walking downhill, through the forest, crossing stones and streams, contemplating whether we picked the right path. Surrounded by the interplay of shadows and the setting sun, we learned to trust the way – and got back to our guesthouse. It was in the next two days we figured out that hiking downhill does indeed take longer to restore the muscles, so we preferred calmer adventures the next days.
Usghuli is a village that is fully cut off in the winter: the precarious roads are closed from the rest of the world, and its inhabitants have to wait for Spring, to be able to leave the place. For that reason, Ushguli has few people living there in the cold season – still, it is considered to be the highest settlement in Europe, located at 2200 m altitude. Ushguli, as well as the rest of the region, is famous for its Svan towers – unique tower houses built from IX to XII centuries. This makes the village a UNESCO heritage site, attracting guests to experience this tranquil, slightly Medieval, atmosphere. If I were to describe Ushghuli through the lens of my sleepy mind, I would talk about its guesthouses and small cafes, that seem to have occupied the main function. It is the stillness of it I shall keep in my memories, a small cafeteria with the drawings of a nine-year-old of the local Svan towers, a cabin on the mountainous background, an old church, and a horse taking care of her foal. I would most certainly mention the road and say that it was mildly unsettling, driving next to the cliff – so no wonder it is shut down in the winter, with snowy and slippery pavements.
At the height of 2800 m, you can find Koruldi lakes and the fields, that display a breathtaking panorama view, and possibilities for various hikes. On the off-roads of Svaneti, be prepared for the driver’s jokes as you are driving on the bumpy serpentines to the lakes. He might play Rammstein as the car generates dust from its wheels, or surprise you with unexpected turns downhill, to evoke awe in the travellers. He will probably say ‚are you ready?!’ before another steep patch with his Mitsubishi Delica, and will joyfully observe the terrified faces in his car. Once experienced this, you will no longer relate to the complaints about serpentines on the way from Tbilisi and western Europeans calling it challenging – hold on my dear, wait till you go to Koruldi. At the top, you will see horses cool their hooves in the remaining snow, and right next to it – lakes and flowers. Your way back downhill will again be full of chatter and driver’s jokes – except that now you are ready for it.
Another car was bringing us to the waterfall the next day. At the Hiker’s Inn, where we started our hike, the wooden cabins, rental tracking poles, swimming lakes and horses welcomed us. Along the way to the waterfall (which was about 5 km with an ascent of 700 meters), we were rarely alone. Tourists accompanied by the guides, border police, and – again – horses, were our constant companions. Despite the people we met on the way, their voices were always subdued, softened by the river with its heavy flow, by the wind in the forest we walked through, or even by the rustling under our feet. While on your way to Shdugra waterfall, you encounter landscapes that make you pause, breathe in, and dissolve in the soundscape, and you feel the same once you get through the steep path of stones and see Its Majesty Waterfall. We came back to Mestia impressed, however serene and peaceful.
The strings of the guitar in the shared kitchen create melody, as I again try to play a new song. Then, I revert to the familiar choices, and we remain there, singing in front of the window. The mountains are ahead of us, and I let my mind wander. I contemplate that mountains, seen from the distance, that end with a sharp rock edge, are blades. They seem as that knife you would use for cutting your bread that Sunday morning, preparing for the family brunch. I almost feel the urge to extend my hand as if that way I can touch the top, but the only thing that happens is that I almost lose balance. Perhaps, for the better – I think to myself – otherwise I would probably cut my hand. Clouds come to rescue, it is their eternal meaning. Soft and fluffy – I think again, - they cushion the mountain. Clouds give it a warm hug at the end of the day as our loved ones to us. The mountain then puts the weapons – or rocks – down, giving in to this cloudy temptation, keeping it in the shape of snow. This is who indeed has the ‘head in the clouds’, and, perhaps, me – since I am giving them this detailed description, in a guest house, that neither me nor mom want to leave.
