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Letters from the road
Friday, 11 February 2022
Nepal
Topic: East Asia

    


So I think I have just fixed all the photo links in this blog. It's only taken about two years of procrastination In celebration here is the first story i posted. It was on a web page back in the dark ages of 2002 in Nepal. From memory it took a whole afternoon in Mads flat, a slide scanner, and two different internet providers in Katmandu to load up. It's from when Mick and I walked to Everest. 

 

 

       Once upon a time there where two brothers. Who went to climb Rum Doodle the tallest mountain in the world at 40,000 � thousand feet. They took there trusty mascot and stayed in tea houses. While all the time braving the Napalie trails and checking out the scenery. . �They fought hardship, crossed wild gorges, fought their way through blizzards, all the while trying to keep the natives at bay. After 7 long days and 7 even longer nights, they reached the peak� only to find it had already been assailed by hordes of others.

They also got drunk, feed the street kids, and lost all our money at the casino but that�s another story.

 

The second part of the story is here, comes with a language warning. 


Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM EADT
Updated: Saturday, 19 February 2022 5:58 PM EADT
Tuesday, 30 November 2021
Up in the air Junior Birdman.
Topic: Undefined

     Boats . They take forever to get there. Then there is all that bobbing around like a cork. No thanks. Choppers. Glorified Egg beaters. One hundred thousand nuts and bolts, heading in different directions. To me they seem like playing hopscotch in a minefield, not a sensible form of transport. Then there are little planes. I'm much happier with a bourbon and coke up the back where I can't see the pilot panicking. I know that it's twenty seven times safer then driving down the street but I'm always happier when we are back on the ground, and I'm not packed into the glove box with two hundred of my friends.

     My mate has been threatening to take me up in his plane for the last fifteen years. He has even worn out one plane in that time.  Friday night at the pub " Wanna fly tomorrow", beer makes you do strange things. Why not. Lilydale airport is on the edge of town, fields and hangers full of small planes. You can learn to fly there. We push open the hanger door, the little red plane is just that. Little. Two seats, three hundred and twenty kilos. Even surrounded by little planes it's little. A marvel of modern technology, made from carbon fibre, space age, electronics, and unobtainem. After an hour of checks, I squeeze into my seat. I'm not that big, but there is only one place I can put my hands without getting in the way of anything important. And I'm surround by important. Normally I'm in the back with the hosties, but the only thing behind me is a little window in the roof, a reusable grocery bag, and what looks like a large fire cracker beside it. " What's that" , I ask. That's the plane parachute. "OH" good to see the guys who built this have complete confidence.

    "Clear prop", taxi , after what seem like using up about fifty feet of runway were in the the air. A couple of hours later we're back at the pub. Aside from a few bumps, it was great to see town from a different angle. Thanks mate.

 

Click here for the views of town. 


Posted by bondrj at 10:22 PM EADT
Updated: Saturday, 19 February 2022 6:02 PM EADT
Wednesday, 8 September 2021
The Rocky Road less traveled.
Topic: Australia

 
               So I'm on a rocky track in the middle of nowhere, with a busted Volkswagen, no phone reception, and it's dark. What am I doing here again. Ahh I remember, supporting our poor country cousins.

      Summer Twenty Twenty didn't start well  for the bush. Visitors dried up after we had droughts, then major bush fires, which burnt an area one and a half times the size of England. This is normally the time when us  city people flock to the bush/beach. The locals whinge about the crowds, the farmers hide, but they all make enough cash to survive another year.   The media convinced us  city folk  that every thing past our line of sight was burnt to a crisp. Even if it wasn't, it would spontaneously  combust, the moment you got there, instantly adding you and your family to the global warming problem. Fact check, Australia is big, only 0.4% got burnt. Time for Mick and I to put our super hero capes on and come to the rescue, with a beer, Pama, coffee and cake tour.

    The original plan was to leave after the March school holidays 2020, splash some cash around country VIC/NSW, then return with a warm glow of knowing we had done our bit.  Ah, the best laid plans, Mick got delayed by a week, then COVID hit, then the borders closed, then Melbourne, got  the "Ring of Steel", then 200 days of lockdown. I sound like I'm making excuses here, but really I tried, it wasn't my fault. 

     Skip to April 2021, Victoria is having one of its rare Covid lockdown free days, Even better some the State borders are open. Time to hit it. We plough  through the ring of steel into Gippsland visiting friends, Lunch in Barnesdale, Afternoon tea in Cain River.  A couple of days later we even get through the NSW border. As per usual Mick has his spread sheet of goals and tasks to accomplish. One of these is to drive around some of the bush in the south eastern corner of NSW, so we hit the dirt tracks checking out some remote beaches and sights. Back on the main road he points out snake track. " I think that's where we want to go". OK. It's a bit rough, but we are taking it easy. there are some houses on the side of the road. After a while the houses disappear, but the tracks still ok. Then the track gets a bit worse, OK we will bail at the first intersection. Twenty clicks in the tracks off the road are way worse than the one we are on, but its only about another ten k to the main road. We stop to kick a big rock off the road, still cruising.  The track here is a bit less used and has some grass in the middle of it. Bang we hit something, where did that come from. Just around the next bend the track gets way better. I think we have made it. Then this giant red oil can appears on my dash along with a loud alarm. Bugger. I stop check under the car and there is oil running out the bottom. Not Good. 
    It's late afternoon, there is no phone signal. Well we can't drive, and we need to get out of here. I start walking and soon see some paddocks. I can't hear any banjos, so their must be some civilisation around here. I find a house but there is no one about, so I climb the hill and get a bit of phone signal. Soon enough I'm talking to the local towie.  Be an hour mate. No worries I'm going back to the car, see ya. An hour and a half later it's getting dark and I'm back on top of the hill. " Sorry got another job, be another hour" Finally It's dark, but we see a truck creeping up the track. We had got through the rough bit, and an hour later we are in town. The towie takes us to the nearest motel. It's full, so is the next, the pubs getting reno'd. The last chance has one double left. We check in and head to the pub but the kitchen is getting reno'd too, so it's the trusty Chinese.  I can highly recommend the Golden ocean chinese cafe for great old fashioned chinese australian food. Tomorrows another day.
    After breaky we head to the garage. The boys are busy, but say they might get a chance to look at it in the Arvo. This is the second time I have been stuck here in five years. Last one was on a yacht with three dead alternators. We do the wharf, van park, main st, coffee shops, fisherman's club, public phones, recycle bins. Bega tick. Back to the garage. The VW has a aluminium sump, light but fragile, and broken. I hear Parts, time, money, yer, yer, I'm out of here guys, ring me when it's fixed. Seven A.M we're on the bus.
    Next stop Canberra, not quite the bush, but i've just spent 3 months here. My friends parents are over from Ireland, and I have a couple of little jobs I want to do. The Capital is fun but the spread sheet is calling. Monday morning back on the bus. Our mate Shergs, lives in Sydney and has a car. Train to the edge of town, Shergs finds us in the pub. By arvo we are at Wisemans ferry to check out the old convict road, then off to the pub. It's booked out, seems to be a bit of a theme going on here.  We get a couple of expensive rooms at the only other place in town, the resort. Well we are here to support the economy. 
    The idea is to get to Armadale to see the Cuz via the Hunter Valley. I have visions of winerys, and quite little country towns. By the time we are in Singleton it's getting on. Nice place lets stay here. Great idea, but the place is booked out. Oh well there is always Muswellbrook, it's a fair size. Drive by of the Liddle power station, and some lake that will kill you if you swim in it are the highlights of this bit. The town is full of places to stay, but they are all full. The power station has a shutdown, so does the railway line. Every thing in town is full of tradies, or gray nomads who got here before us. Aberdeen, full, Scone, we try every place in town, and it's getting late.  The very last pub has a last minute cancelation. It has steak and beer.
    Shergs is over it, he has stuff to do back home. No worries we will get back on the bus. Nice breakfast, bus station, you guessed it, booked out. Normally there is a train but the line has a shutdown. No bus till the next day. No accomodation, we call the Cuz, he's sick, and doesn't feel like a 300 km round trip. We jump in the car with Shergs and head back to Muswellbrook. At the car rental place they just laugh, Shutdown, We give up. Back in Sydney we check into the Central hostel and have a great meal in Spice lane. This is more like it. By noon the next day we have caught a flight home. 
    A week later I walk to Caulfield and jump on the train. Morning tea in Barnesdale, Lunch at Cain River, It's like Deja Vu. The time table says I will be in Eden at 3.55 PM. At the Garage I chat to the Guys, I came here to support the bush, here's my two and a half grand. By four I'm blasting out of town.  I may be some time before I'm back.
 
Click the pic for more 

Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM NZT
Updated: Thursday, 9 September 2021 12:26 AM NZT
Sunday, 21 March 2021
Back on the Bike
Topic: Australia

 

 

Covid Covid Covid, I'm over it. Thankfully a bit of sanity is creeping back into my life. Micks been busy organizing a ride. The meeting point is my Cousin Rob's owns a bush block in the western districts. It's only a three hour drive after my first day of work for a couple of months. I get there at Eleven. St Aunard is named after French marshal Jacques Leroy de Saint Arnaud, commander-in-chief of the army of the East. Just thought I would throw that in. The block was once a bit of degraded farm land, but Rob has revegetated it. There are a dozen of us camped in the bush. Itinerary, day one, breakfast, ride to the pub, have lunch return. Day two ride to the café, have lunch return. At night the locals gave us a great talk on conservation efforts around the area.  All in all it pretty much went to plan Thanks to, Mick, Rob, Yaroon, and Russ(not me). for the organization.

 

Click the pic for more. 


Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM NZT
Thursday, 31 December 2020
Welcome 2021
Topic: Australia

 

 

So a year of traveling without really travelling, bye bye 2020. I've ended up in Canberra, slowly being hemmed in as the other States shut their borders around me. Contrary to popular opinion, that's not a bad thing. The bars, and shops are still open. Canberra has lots of things to do, and where i'm living I can walk out the front door and be in the bush. Roll on 2021.


Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM EADT
Updated: Wednesday, 16 February 2022 5:45 PM EADT
Monday, 21 September 2020
Traveling Within
Topic: Undefined

 

 

 A guest appearance from Emma about the joys of travelling while not being allowed to travel more than 5 kms from home.

Until Sunday 13 September, Spring had been putting in an appearance in Melbourne, but only for a day or two. Then she would slip back indoors, to be replaced by chillsome, grey scale days. But last Sunday, Spring put on her rainbow coloured party frock, threw open the closet door, thumbed her nose at Old Dad Winter, and went cavorting about the town. And She stopped traffic, including me: I turned the corner from my house and halted under a tree, bursting with new green growth, against a azure sky, being enjoyed by a gang of Rainbow Lorikeets. As I stood there, a cheerful lass called out to me: “Hey, it’s Spring!” We could both sense the usual joy and freedom that Spring brings, but also the specialness of this particular Spring after weeks of Winter and lockdown. When we parted, we were both nearly dancing down the street.  

To celebrate this joyous pandemonium of sunshine and rainbows, I did something that I’ve not done for some time: I mounted my trusty steed (bicycle) and went for a ride. It was glorious. My fellow Melbournians were out and about in the same heady state of euphoria.  

This brings me to some cogitations on the art of travel. Now I admit that I am disappointed that I did not get to go to the Olympics this year as I was scheduled to do, and no doubt I will be disappointed if I can’t go in 2021. However, I’ve tried to stay positive and see some of the things that we are allowed to do as alternate forms of travel of a sort.  

In his book The Art of Travel, the philosopher, Alain de Botton, asks why we don’t apply the same curiosity and wonder to our own locality that we deploy when visiting somewhere new. He also makes reference to the thinker, John Ruskin’s view, that to properly savour a location, one should only ever travel five miles a day. So, during our Stage 4 lockdown (when we are only allowed to travel five kilometres from home), I have been trying to apply these principles. I try to see my neighbourhood as a tourist. These days I have started running again, and have a 5km circuit that I run 2-3 times a week and try to see it anew each time. As for Rainbow Lorikeets, they would stop any tourist in their tracks!  

I have always delighted in the travel experience that you can participate in through reading. Each time they lock us down, I pick an epic tome to read. So far, I have been to Tudor England in the sublime The Mirror and the Light by Hilary Mantel. I was able to share the travel experience with my friend Jane who was reading the tale at the same time. Then I went to a destination that my mum had recommended: 1950s-1960s bohemian Australia in The Vivisector by Patrick White. It was definitely worth the visit. Most recently, I have just returned from India during the time of the British Raj in the historical novel, The Far Pavilions by M. M. Kaye, which incidentally is a text that should be consulted if ever one is considering invading Afghanistan. Lesson: Don’t!  

Food is always an important part of any travelling that I do, and I have actually had more new local food experiences in lockdown than I have for years. Previously I tended to frequent some old faithful eateries. Since lockdown, my adventurous neighbours have appreciably extended my culinary encounters. As we are allowed to exercise with one other person and get takeaway food, my neighbours and I go out walking and foraging in local eateries: Babka Bakery (Easter European), Bowl Bowl (Sichuan Chinese), Saba’s Ethiopian Restaurant and a multifaceted array of other delicious restaurants and cafes that we probably wouldn’t have tried if we hadn’t been locked down.  

I am extraordinarily fortunate to have a number of friends overseas, and thanks to a global pandemic most of us are at home with extra time on our hands. So, while I might have had less contact with local friends, I’ve actually had more with overseas friends thanks to the joys of modern technology: multi-country phone catchups; e-messages ranging from the hilarious (toilet roll earrings – the gift for 2020), to the touching (ducklings being saved by burley German police officers – perhaps that’s just me), to the sublime (Nessun Dorma sung by Italian school children). Technology allows us to travel to our dear ones in these new ways. (Qualification: I do understand that it is not necessarily an effective substitute for those who have close family and friends interstate and overseas who they can’t travel to see.)  

I love attending a sporting event and have enjoyed travelling to some fun events in recent years. I don’t necessarily understand the rules, but that’s never interfered with my enjoyment as I just love the cheerful atmosphere. When my mum was very sick (pre-COVID days), my lovely friend Miranda invited me to a Melbourne City game and supplied me with coffee and donuts. It was the best therapy I could have wished for! Since COVID, the pickings have been slim and the performance regularly under par, except for the Tour de France. So bless the French, and Michael for organising a Zoom Tour experience.  

The philosopher, John Armstrong, once observed that you can participate in the world of ideas wherever you are. He was not referring to social media (which seems to me to foster rigid, opinionated, shallow tripe which only gets worse when people are scared, frustrated and stuck at home). Thinking is an important form of travel for me. Thinking requires time and a want of the distraction and busyness that seem to accompany our usual modern world. I can’t imagine having had the time or headspace to think through the observations and ideas that I am now writing about before lockdown. You may be wishing that I didn’t have the time or headspace to write this now. If so, just stop reading. I won’t mind because I won’t know! J  

Which brings me to my thoughts on my future travel destinations. I still very much want to cycle in Vietnam and Copenhagen, go to the World Cup, see my friends in Europe and the UK, and have a Singapore Sling with Tim and his gin in Singapore. However, my current priority destinations are my mum’s nursing home in East Melbourne, my Dad’s nursing home in Carlton, my sister’s home in Anglesea, and my uncle’s magical garden on Mt Macedon just outside Melbourne. Those are the hoped for pilgrimages that are now most dear to my heart.  

In the meantime, I am currently researching a new bicycle and new cycling routes in preparation for at least being able to ride further than 5kms from home. Pete B is exploring cycle trails in the northern suburbs, and I am trying to work out a cycle route to Geelong that does not include the freeway. I will keep the cyclists amongst you posted. We will only have to dodge all the other Melbournian’s on the cycle trails enjoying the same sense of freedom and release as ourselves! J  

 

Emma L 

Occasional Traveller and Cogitator 

Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM NZT
Updated: Tuesday, 22 September 2020 5:14 PM NZT
Saturday, 8 August 2020
D.C. SQUAT DAZE 1986
Topic: North America

 
 
       Frank and Daragh were renting a house in 10th St SE DC. This was an interesting part of Washington, that mainly consisted of boarded up houses, and zero tourists. Its only a mile from the Capital Building but in a rundown part of town. Frank and I had lived in several  in a Squats in London, so it only seemed natural with all these empty buildings to move into one. The only problem is the laws are totally different in the U.S. If a building is abandoned, it's owned by the government, and bricked up. What you have to do is find a privately owned building, and move in. Which is trespassing.  Fortunately there happens to be two just across the road. So we moved in. Amenities included free electricity, blocked sewer, no water, free trash, and a few broken windows. Rodrigo provides some kittens, Duncan some spray cans, the local building site donated some lumber. What more could you need.
          Water. You need water, in DC when you don't pay your bill, they pinch you meter from a hole out in the street. We made a call, unless you could prove you owned the place, no meter. Mmmmmm. Water meters are like potatoes, the ground is full of them. After a bit of late night plumbing we have water, to much water. The pipes in the house have frozen over the winter, so their is a big split right by the front door. Off to the hard ware, for a couple of hose clamps and a foot of plastic pipe. Seven trips later, we finally have sealed all the leaks, and its stopped raining inside. In hindsight it would of been easier to buy 20 ft of pipe. I get to work on the loo, its full, and all the drains are totally blocked. After its cleaned out it's still blocked. I fill it with water, I fill the bath with water, I fill the sink with water, for good measure I fill everything else I can find with water. It's no good. After an hour I'm contemplating what to do next, when there is this sound like a freight train. Unlike corona, the problem has disappeared down the pipe. We sit in the back yard where the guys are building a veggie patch, and celebrate with a couple of Micky's Wide Mouths. A couple of days later the cops turn up. They ask us do we own the place. Umm No. Are we renting it. Umm No. They look around, the place is neat, were not junkies. They smile, they leave. I think we passed.  
      It's summer in DC, the best time. The guys are all on break from collage, and picking up summer jobs. Need a driver, laborer, apartment cleaned, painting, Bike couriering, Pizza delivery we do it all. At night we go swimming in the local DC water supply, Daragh driving through red lights, and hiding out when the cops drive past. On off days I grab a bike, go check out the museums, or the cheap IMAX  at the Air and Space. Frank coaches soccer and there seems to be an impromptu match on every arvo. D.C. Rap blares out from every corner. Beers on the roof at night to beat the heat.  Cool Disco Dan is everywhere. Then it's time to go, I have to meet my friend in Europe. They try to convince me to stay, hell they even offer to pay me more. Its been fun. I've even made more here in six weeks than I made in six months in London. I haven't chucked in to many crap jobs, to go on holidays and done that before.
          They stayed there all summer, after they left the junkies moved in. Inevitably, the council kicked them out bricked up the place. There was one final act. One day a couple of years later the whole place just fell in to the street, It might of had something to do with that supporting wall someone removed to enlarge their bedroom. Then again maybe the old building decided it was never going to see as much fun again.  Tenth Street S.E. you "SICE".

Click The pic above for more.

Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM NZT
Updated: Saturday, 19 August 2023 2:33 AM NZT
Friday, 15 May 2020
The Wild West
Topic: Australia

 
    Who in their right mind would decide to ride a bike two and a half thousand clicks through the desert. I have a mate who is even sillier than that, he is trying to ride all the way around Australia. To cut a long story short, my bro was driving around oz as a grey nomad. He wanted some company, pick me. Matey likes riding his bike, pick him. Cuz wants to look at wild flowers, pick her. Matey's missus likes an adventure, pick her too. Then after a little drive, we all assembled in Broome. Well that was the plan. Madness does not run in the family so bro and cuz are the road crew. That leaves three of us riding. Matey has some last minute work task. That leaves two, if missus cancels it could get lonely out there. Fortunately that didn't happen.
                                                              The game plan
    Ride south from Broome, with a howling tailwind till you hit Perth a mere 2347 KM away.
                                
                                                            Technical challenges.
    It's a long way between drinks. If you are lucky there is a roadhouse every 100km, a town every 300km. If you are really lucky they will be open. Even luckier , they will have somewhere to stay. No one is that lucky.
    100km is a long way to ride. About 80 KM pulls me up most days.
    It's hot.
    

   Day one. The sun isn't even up, but we are on the road. Maria and I head out east . Its 30 km till our first and only bit of civilization. Two km down the road I get my first flat tyre. Why am I here again.  Carbs at Roebuck road house. This is it till the rest stop only 90 km to go. The great northern goes south west from here. The first 20 km aren't to bad, but it's getting hot. The the wind kicks in, slowly at first, but quickly winding up so with the heat it's a bit like riding behind a F1-11 at takeoff. My brother who did the logistics, can't read a wind rose. He thinks a southerly wind blows from the north. Only 70 km to go. We are stopping every 10 km to have a drink and a break, sometimes under the only bush we can see. The temp is in the high 30's, and our six liters of water is rapidly running out. This shouldn't be a problem, except our trusty road crew is still buying toe nail polish in Broome, having chosen not to get up early. It's now midday, and 40km to go, We are cooked, with no phone service, and  just a little bit of water. We pull up under a bush and wait for Cuz and Bros to catch up. Forty five minutes later, they arrive with cold drinks and munchies. Better a couple of hours late than never I say. Shall I do the last 40km riding into the furnace, na the enthusiasm has gone. The Ramada resort is calling us.  We chuck the bikes on the car, and head for the pool. Only 2250 km to go.
          This is the set up for the rest of the trip. We get up early and ride. There are three reasons for this. One it gets hot in the afternoon. Two our promised tail wind starts blowing in our faces around about ten in the morning. Three The suicidal grey nomads generally don't start trying to knock you off your bike till about ten. Riding in the morning is great, once you get past getting up in the dark. 
       Matey  finally manages to join us at Kununurra. To ease the pain we take in the sights with a couple rest days. Beers at the Dampier Boaties, Swimming with the Dugongs at Coral Bay, Cowboy bars in Exmouth, and getting Fleeced at Monkey Mia, killing Bill at Kilbarry. In between we camp at roadhouses and stations. The locals are all characters. In between the tell us stories, and feed us some fine grub. Burgers, Parmas, and chips. The menu might have been a little boring, but it was great stodge to do some k's on. While we are dodging caravans blown across the road, my bro is sipping lates, while cuz takes 5 photos of every single wildflower in the state.  Just sometimes I wonder what I'm doing here, most of the time the hours on the road are challenging, but fun. 
        We call it, a couple of hundred klicks north of Perth. The "trifecta", crap roads, weather, and traffic finally convinces us there are better things in life to do. I ride the last 30 k's solo down the ocean bike path, dodging rollerbladers instead of road trains. When I get to Cottesloe, I find Bro and Cuz sitting at the surf club in the sun, looking west, drinking lates. Time to join them, only the bottom third of the state and ten million wildflowers to go.

Without photos it didn't happen. Click the pic for more.

Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM NZT
Updated: Wednesday, 16 February 2022 5:48 PM EADT
Sunday, 19 January 2020
Armenia.
Topic: Europe

 
    When you mention Armenia, most people know two things, Kim Kardashian and genocide. Two words that seem to fit together like Ham and Cheese.  I hope there is more. Armenia was once huge.  Unfortunately being stuck between the Persians, Ottomans, and Russians has never been a place where you are guaranteed a quiet life. At various times in between rising and falling empires you were left alone, but that was more the exception than the rule.  Slip  forward a couple of millenia, after everyone has had a bit of a go at wiping you off the face of the earth, we get to now.  A small landlocked country, Iran, and Georgia on opposite sides, Turkey and Azerbaijan on the other. By the way your not talking to last two. As soon as you get independence from Russians, you invite them back again to keep your neighbours at bay. Cheap oil and Borsch, is the up side.
    Another day another border crossing. We meet our guide, and driver. As we drive through the hilly countryside, huge abandoned factories rust away, and sit vacant beside decaying blocks of soviet flats. Armenia was a producer of high tec  products when it was a part of the soviet union. Like all messy breakups, the fun stopped, and the local standard of living dropped like a stone. During the dark years of the 90's people left for anywhere else. Empty houses are plentiful here. It's not long before we get to our first church.  It is the world's first christian nation, and has the oldest christian religion. I think there might be a few more on the itinerary. We spend most of the day driving to the capital Yerevan. Being a small country, we are going to spend most of our nights here, doing day trips out. Yay no packing fo a couple of days.  Yerevan is a modern safe spacious city, thanks to the odd earthquake and soviet planning. It has nice parks, squares and restaurants. We spend our first day walking around, the best bits being Churchill's favorite brandy factory and the Yerevan Cascade. An unfinished grand statement that runs a mile from the war memorial to the city. Don't worry about the odd unfinished section here and there, the walk down the thousands of steps gives you great views of the city, and Mount Ararat. Modern sculptures, non working fountains, and a museum, are there to check out on the walk down. At night we walk into town to the  main square, and it's musical fountains. Followed by  beer, and organized dinner with a bit of folk music. 
    The next couple of days are a blur of monasteries, museums, and mountains. Throw in the odd roman temple, and a 6KM cable car ride built by a rich american to attract people to his hometown. When we get close to Iran we see huge sanction busting trucks selling black market gas on the side of the road. Check out the pics, there was a lot of stuff there. My highlights were the evening barbie that our driver organized with his relatives, the veterans day parade, and our last night where Maria found a great outdoor restaurant. The meal started with a classical orchestra playing, followed by several singers and a band over the next couple of hours. Fine wine and three courses, fifty five bucks, split three ways. We left the locals boogying to doof doof as we had an early start the next day.
    On our last day we head back out the way we came in. After all the only other option was Iran, maybe next time. 

Posted by bondrj at 10:19 PM EADT
Updated: Wednesday, 16 February 2022 5:51 PM EADT
Sunday, 8 December 2019
Georgia
Topic: Europe

 
 
      A new passport stamp, driver, guide, language, doesn't matter I didn't understand much in the last country either. Pretty much all I know about Georgia is from watching a 90's movie called powertrip. It was about an American company trying to run an electricity  company in the chaos of the collapse of the Soviet Union. Our new guide shows us Georgia has its priorities right. We speed past a huge old crumbly castle to a bomb proof cave that used to be a cold war base. Seven miles long, drilled through a mountain, and fourteen degrees all year round.  The Khareba wine cellar now uses its seven miles of tunnels to store of wine.  The Azerbaijanis proudly told us the had 29 winerys, Georgia has that per mile. They have been making wine for 8000 years in big clay pots buried in the ground. The export wine all over, and it's pretty damn good. Next stop  more wine.tasting followed by lunch with you guessed it , more wine. We arrive at our magnificent hotel  stuffed. We have just enough time to check out our view of the snow covered mountains before dinner. We don't do it justice. 
    Next stop Tbilisi, via a couple of churches .Somewhere here is the dividing line between asia and europe.  We also have a new alphabet, new money, and a new religion. Georgian kings loved to build churches, and every hill top has four or five on it. Georgia has no shortage of mountains, wedged in between the greater and lesser caucasus mountain ranges with another one splitting the country in two.  The churches are mostly ruins, they have a lot of earthquakes here. The best job in Georgia is being a stonemason, as soon as you rebuild all the churches the next earthquake knocks them down again. Perpetual work with a brief holiday in between. The capital Tbilisi sits on a river, surrounded by hills. Old forts and soviet tv towers sit side by side. There is an old town full of restaurants, and the main streets full of modern shops. Of course we can't miss the huge cathedral of Tbilisi which at only 25 years old still looks a bit like work in progress. The stayfree bridge and the interesting unfinished concert hall round out the tour. The old town is also famous for its thermal baths and beauty treatments, but I delegated  them to Maria. 
           After the big smoke, we headed back to the country, continuing our tour of church relics, fine dining, fine wining ,and a couple of nights in a ski resort. Driving along we pass big mounds of dirt on one side of the road. Our guide tells us they are there to make life hard for the russians during their ocasional bits of road target practice. Things have been pretty cool for the last few years, but there are still large russian occupied bits of Georgia that the exiled locals can't return to.  We didn't quite make it to Batumi which they say is Georgia's classy version of the gold coast on the Black Sea. Always next time. Uncle Joe (Stalin) was born in Gori, and I couldn't miss his childhood home, personal armoured railway carriage, and museum complete with a unapologetic view of his benevolent rule. Pose beside the life sized statue then, head for good coffee just across the  street. On our way back to drop Ern off in Tbilisi we finish with a few more petroglyphs, a cave trip and a canyon cruise. Our guides dump us at the hotel just in time for another dinner. No rest here, tomorrow we are off to Armenia.

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Posted by bondrj at 12:01 AM EADT
Updated: Wednesday, 16 February 2022 5:57 PM EADT

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