It was a pleasant surprise that my stomach ache was gone after only one day. I still felt a bit weak though having spent a lot more time emptying myself than with refilling. However the plan was to hitchhike to Mestia, a remote small time in the middle of the Caucasus, so no great physical effort was required for that enterprise.
We walked out of the town and quickly somebody took us half the way. At a crossing in the middle of the mountains we had to wait maybe 15 minutes before a small truck picked us up for the rest of the ride. The second driver chased his vehicle up that valley, slaloming between the rocks that had fallen on the street. These mountains and its people appeared to have seen a hard winter, the road had suffered considerably under it. In a small village a small crowd blocked the road, they were gathering around a pair of fighting dogs. First I was under them impression, that they tried to seperate them, but in fact they were enjoying them spectacle. The driver killed the engine and we watched the rather violent looking fight for a couple of minutes during which it looked as one of the dogs would rip out the throat of the other.
The sceneries were quite something that appeared after each major turn, the mountainsides are steep and the peaks reach high up in the sky. The low clouds would leave us guessing how much higher the mountains would rise.
After about four hours we reached Mestia, where we were dropped of in the city center next to the tourist information. Here we learned that between seasons there is indeed not much to do, the trails are covered in wet snow and skiing season is over. So we went ton a guesthouse got ride of our stuff and went inspecting one of the many towers of the town. Back at the guesthouse we enjoyed dinner, nice thing such a full pension including dinner and breakfast. Only a little later our first day in the Caucasus found its end. Amazing how tired one can get from a car ride and a little walking up in this thin air.
Overnight there was quite a bit of snowfall. We decided to hike ton the skilift to see if we could find some wood to strap to our feet and surf the mountain. On the way up a four-by-four car took us along. When allroader took off after we hoped on its open loading space, we clinched on to whatever we could grab, Georgians do not go easy on the gaspedal, even if the road is snow covered.
Next too the lift was a small hotel where, as we arrived, a bunch of people gathered back from a small ski-tour. Among them was a group of Frenchmen from Chamonix. We walked a bit along the slopes, since the lifts were not operating today. We gazed at the mountains wrapped in clouds and fooled around in the snow. Soon we realized that of the slopes we would sink in at least knie-deep into the snow. Jep its wild here, without ski or snowshoes, you can't go very far. So we walked back down to town. A couple of hours later and after many aaahs and oohs we arrived down in the valley in the late afternoon. It was a bit ambivalent to me, in one way I was so eager to finally explore the Caucasus and in another there I found myself in, the snow again, longing for the spring finally at reach all the way down in the plane.
Then we tried hitchhiking back to Zugdidi, but on a late sunday afternoon we looked a bitte like fools in our attempt. One hour later, still in Mestia, we took a cheap room in a hostel.
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