Kazbegi

With a big relief I sit in the taxivan from Vladikavkaz, Russia to Kazbegi, Georgia which is not so far away from the border with Russia. We have just passed the line for the customs with a positive result. It is a beautiful setting with high mountains with rocks, grass and rolling in the valley with a swirling river on our side.

Sometimes we have to stop for some cows on the road but the driver will spray away again. In the first village we encounter, the driver calls that this is my stop. On both sides of the road I see high mountains and some buildings but it seems small enough to find my intended hostel although there are many here.

The only problem is that I first need Georgian money because I have nothing at all - I did not dare to let the people in the van wait at the border where I saw a point of exchange. I walk into a pharmacy where a woman is trying to help me – she speaks some English. She asks me to wait and then walk along with her. We walk on a road with a lot of big boulders and we go up the hill past some dilapidated fences and houses.I’ve got no idea where she takes me.  

I had expected a very "fancy" village, but that is hard to come by at close quarters. When she arrived near her house she pointed to what looks like an ordinary house - that must be the bank. I walk inside and it looks like I ended up in a museum - there are some people behind a wooden desk and one behind a glass window; I imagine myself back in the 70s when I was put on the counter at the local bank by my mother. They do not have a cash machine, but I can exchange Russian money. If I have some money in my pocket, I have to go back to the other side of the road because that is where my intended guesthouse Nazi is located and I wonder why it is called that.

With Georgian money in my pocket I find my hostel. Inside I receive a warm welcome and get a delicious cup of coffee. It is chilly here in Kazbegi which is not so strange as you know that we are surrounded by high peaks and the village is at 1750 meters altitude. In the dormitory there is a rug on the floor, there is a candlestick and there is even a piano in the corner; it looks more like a living room than a dormitory. I meet a Polish boy in the room who is drinking a small coke bottle with a transparent substance; do you want to try "Chacha" does he ask? I try the fire water of Georgia and get warm inside immediately.

The route goes directly up via the gravel road to the village Gergeti which is built just next Kazbegi. I look at the stone houses with yards - many are fenced off by a stone wall like in Nepal and other countries and sometimes contain some animals;  sometimes it is just a place to hang the laundry.

Behind us the valley with the village and the other side of the high mountains and in front of me as I look up the Tsminda Sameba church that rises above everything. I stop to zip off my trousers and now dozens of jeeps and taxis pass me by up the mountain, followed by a parade of Polish and Russian tourists walking.  

It is only a 1.5 hour walk and since I have no other plans today, I can take it easy. We zigzag on the path, together with a whole group of Georgians - it is Sunday after all) through the hamlet. We’re passing gardens where a dog is sleeping in front of his little wooden house. Everything is so peaceful on the way to the real trail that eventually leads us on top of the mountain. The path is steep and the little gravelstones slide easily away under your shoes. Some people are totally prepared with expensive hiking-gear, others just walk on slippers.

I'm happy when we get on the road where cars are driving and I decide to go off the goat path and enjoy this route You walk, in a way, around the mountain between the trees and I am glad that I brought a combination of winter- and summer clothes because the temperature is changing at every corner. Eventually you end up in an open space, a kind of plateau where you can already see the church at the end of the hill. On the plateau you see the jeeps passing, a group of cows graze here and on the edge stands a big cross that serves as a small altar.

Behind is the large Kazbegi mountain of more than 5000 meters high partially covered in ice and partly covered by a large dark cloud. The wind blows pretty fierce up here but the view is beautiful.

I calmly walk towards the madhouse what it is today. Dozens of jeeps are parked in front of the church and numerous tour groups have gathered in front of what looks like the Georgian pride or country's symbol - the 14th century Tsminda Sameba church. They are two separate towers of which one serves or did as a bell tower.

The whole is surrounded by a high stone wall and you have to walk around it, to enter through a gate in a small courtyard with a grassy field. A mass is going on in the church. It’s an ancient stone church with a small dome and everything has become pretty weathered over the years which makes it special.

Every woman is adorned with a headscarf and you can not go inside with a cap or hat. Also bare shoulders and legs are not appreciated and if you don’t have any extra clothes with you you can get a headscarf and skirt. The walls are decorated with drawings and paintings and I see some crosses. Of course there are many standards with candles, a wooden pulpit, a small shop in the corner and I walk under an arch to look at the priest standing on an elevation in his red dress. He has a small dark beard and has a cross in his hand.

I now also see some discolored banners hanging on the wall while I’m trying to listen to the mass. People now stand in a row after which they are sprinkled by a flurry of water. It is my time, while I hear some people singing in the church, to go out again through the low iron door.

Back in the hostel suddenly hell breaks loose outside - rain, wind, thunder and lightning change the sky in a different world and we talk about the people who are now and still walking to the glacier and church.

At seven o'clock I am called by the owner and I understand that the food is ready; delicious "khachapuri" (cheese cake that is more like a cheese pancake) and a stew of chicken, potato and a perfect sauce make this a sublime dinner. I’ts a typical Georgian dish. After dinner I am invited to sit on the balcony with two Polish ladies and the two Polish boys from the dormitory.

We meet four Israelis and the ladies get a bottle schnapps from their big backs in their room. Some get beer from the little shop (Natakhtari) and after a few hours of drinking I feel the booz in my head when I lay down my head on my pillow. It’s definitely time to go to sleep.