On the next morning I filled a bottle with cold water from the spring in front of one temple and continued my adventures. I arrived at the Gori train station, very old and with chipping walls and ceiling, and found out that my train somehow already left. That was very surprising, for a second even shocking, but I focused and gathered all my thoughts together. In 10 minutes I was at the little, dirty bus station. Soviet buses and old minibuses that earlier were designed for shipping cargo were waiting for their first passengers; chanson was played loudly, and cigarettes like the tubes of industrial city puffed out the smoke. The latter will always remain for me crucially annoying and surprising, as for Georgia with its alcohol and smoking habits the death rate among the population is 3 times smaller than in Ukraine!
Got to Khashuri. Where is that?! Didn't matter as I switched buses in that small town and headed to Borjomi.
Oh. My. God. The unrivalled beauty... Autumn dressed the mountains in yellow and red attires. Among them a river was flowing. It reminded me Pennsylvania and West Virginia. The sun's rays were still warm; the wind swept yellow leaves similar to the receipts in bank which were the proof that animals had payed off their last debts before winter.
The crosses on the top of the mountains were just another evidence of the influence the religion made in this country.
I wondered a bit in the marvelous little town so similar to those discribed in short stories about Europe several centures ago: a bridge across the river, the train station and tiny houses. I was looking for a hostel. When I entered a little court I met a woman and her daughter. She said the hostel was closed long ago, and the whole Borjomi wasn't fun at all. "It seems very nice for tourists but there is nothing to do here."
As always, I just started another conversation listening carefully to the woman.
It tells him [Saakashvili] how to do it and he does... Perhaps, smart people will rule the country in the future." I also asked her about 5 years old events. "We should act diplomatically with Russia but not be agressive... It happened historically that Abkhazia and South Ossetia are our territories. Later people from those areas wanted to separate but only when Russia has supported them they decided to act."
I emphasized how gorgeous the nature around was but my interlocutor answered, "That's you think that it's beautiful and good to be here. In fact, it's very hard to live. This beauty," she pointed at the mountains and golden forests, "can not feed us."
After some time I thanked the woman for sincere words and invitation to stay at her house overnight for 10 lari, though she "even had a shower", but I moved to a guesthouse that I found earlier. Then I went exploring and hiking, feelin' the Georgian land.
...Sitting at the top of one of the mountains. Sitting in peace, no, rather harmony. Sitting among high pine trees, stroking short green grass and tiny firs, and listening to birds' talk. The sun was smiling constantly.
Randomize it! I met a crowd of kids near the school. They sticked to me like to a lollipop and chatted in Georgian between each other. Just couple of them replied to me a bit "po-russki" and "po-angliski". They were so cute... It is for sure that nowadays people don't see the obvious happiness.
Got to Khashuri. Where is that?! Didn't matter as I switched buses in that small town and headed to Borjomi.
Oh. My. God. The unrivalled beauty... Autumn dressed the mountains in yellow and red attires. Among them a river was flowing. It reminded me Pennsylvania and West Virginia. The sun's rays were still warm; the wind swept yellow leaves similar to the receipts in bank which were the proof that animals had payed off their last debts before winter.
Architecture was influenced by both Europe and Asia
The crosses on the top of the mountains were just another evidence of the influence the religion made in this country.
A similar cross on the mountain that you usually meet in Georgia
I wondered a bit in the marvelous little town so similar to those discribed in short stories about Europe several centures ago: a bridge across the river, the train station and tiny houses. I was looking for a hostel. When I entered a little court I met a woman and her daughter. She said the hostel was closed long ago, and the whole Borjomi wasn't fun at all. "It seems very nice for tourists but there is nothing to do here."
As always, I just started another conversation listening carefully to the woman.
"America does that.
After some time I thanked the woman for sincere words and invitation to stay at her house overnight for 10 lari, though she "even had a shower", but I moved to a guesthouse that I found earlier. Then I went exploring and hiking, feelin' the Georgian land.
...Sitting at the top of one of the mountains. Sitting in peace, no, rather harmony. Sitting among high pine trees, stroking short green grass and tiny firs, and listening to birds' talk. The sun was smiling constantly.
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