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To India and Beyond....
- Thread starter Lancelot
- Start date
It's official...we clearly look like people who need feeding and our septuagenarian hosts are exceptionally generous and very hospitable; we did not book breakfast nor supper but were given both meals, each with vast amounts of home-made alcohol, the "brandy" version of which is very similar to Bosnian slivovitz, or as my driver Was' called it in '92, slip-in-a-ditch as driving after drinking it is not to be recommended.
Huge amounts of home-made bread, cream and cheese produced from the milk of their five cows, the meat and potatoes in the stew also being home-produced, as with the honey. Gorgeous salad and great cakes. It would be great value at twice the price, especially when compared with the offerings of the thieving Turkish restaurateurs, although the breakfast we ate on our penultimate morning in Turkey was also home-made and stupendous.
We are at about 1750 metres and the sun is shining, it has been since 0630 hrs in fact. The mountains to the east are now visible, having been covered in cloud when we arrived, still covered in snow. My host, using Russian, Georgian and hand-signals explained that the last of the snow will go in August to return in September, at its deepest being three metres.
After the latest meal, finished half an hour ago which at GMT + 4 was 1730 hrs, I was given the tour of the cellar brewery. The UNDP gave the family an entire brewing lab, complete with four 1000L tanks, one 500 L tank and twelve long-term preservation barrels (all full, the steel tanks from last year's harvest and the barrels from 2022), the aim being to "encourage enterprise in rural areas." Better than parachuting in a goat!
Lancelot got a much needed vacuum, his air filter was cleaned out, he needs half a litre of oil (in the back) and will get his universal joints greased tomorrow morning. The roads are shocking, pictures to follow when the Other Half is no longer using the appliance of science to talk to her mother 2,500 km away.
Stay well and bye for now!
T
Huge amounts of home-made bread, cream and cheese produced from the milk of their five cows, the meat and potatoes in the stew also being home-produced, as with the honey. Gorgeous salad and great cakes. It would be great value at twice the price, especially when compared with the offerings of the thieving Turkish restaurateurs, although the breakfast we ate on our penultimate morning in Turkey was also home-made and stupendous.
We are at about 1750 metres and the sun is shining, it has been since 0630 hrs in fact. The mountains to the east are now visible, having been covered in cloud when we arrived, still covered in snow. My host, using Russian, Georgian and hand-signals explained that the last of the snow will go in August to return in September, at its deepest being three metres.
After the latest meal, finished half an hour ago which at GMT + 4 was 1730 hrs, I was given the tour of the cellar brewery. The UNDP gave the family an entire brewing lab, complete with four 1000L tanks, one 500 L tank and twelve long-term preservation barrels (all full, the steel tanks from last year's harvest and the barrels from 2022), the aim being to "encourage enterprise in rural areas." Better than parachuting in a goat!
Lancelot got a much needed vacuum, his air filter was cleaned out, he needs half a litre of oil (in the back) and will get his universal joints greased tomorrow morning. The roads are shocking, pictures to follow when the Other Half is no longer using the appliance of science to talk to her mother 2,500 km away.
Stay well and bye for now!
T
It is if you don’t like heights
At 1950 I entered our host's kitchen to ask them to freeze our cooling elements for the cool box. Amazed at such things they asked me what time we wanted supper! I was still stuffed like a Plymouth Gannet...or as they say in my part of Devon "Jesus Christ, I'm as vull as an egg." I asked if we could have some tea, he said 2000, she said 2100 so I asked for 2030. We turned up at 2030 and she was making cheese - fascinating. At 2100 supper appeared; fried cheese, salad, fresh salty string cheese, honey, cream, stewed peppers, milk, pickled tomatoes (uhh) and tea, oh and another litre of white wine....
For the first time in my life I might have to admit defeat.... I am sure the heroes of Achnacarry will understand, not sure it will go down well at Poole. Perhaps another yomp up the mountain with the presently kipping greyhound will do the trick?
Seriously, the roads here are great for a Rover and this place is both picturesque and friendly. I asked if I could borrow a vacuum cleaner earlier, for Lancelot's interior and ten minutes later it was all set up, with extension cable and he was busy hosing and scrubbing the mud off! I had to stop him, politely!
For the first time in my life I might have to admit defeat.... I am sure the heroes of Achnacarry will understand, not sure it will go down well at Poole. Perhaps another yomp up the mountain with the presently kipping greyhound will do the trick?
Seriously, the roads here are great for a Rover and this place is both picturesque and friendly. I asked if I could borrow a vacuum cleaner earlier, for Lancelot's interior and ten minutes later it was all set up, with extension cable and he was busy hosing and scrubbing the mud off! I had to stop him, politely!
We almost escaped after a good walk with the hound, sun glinting off the snowy tops and great pictures of old-world farming techniques and blossom.
The old gent dragged us to the outside mountain-view table at which breakfast, which we already confirmed we did not want was waiting...more tapis, more cream, cheese, honey and a delicious circular bred filled with...cheese!
A glass of cherry juice later and the bill arrived; charged for a few meals we did not eat, (fewer in number than meals we did not ask for but ate anyway, after all, one never knows where the next meal is coming from and as taught in resistance to interrogation, accept all comforts that are offered) but the extra night's room price was doubled. A few sharp but pleasant words and we departed a few quid lighter and the difference in the bill agreed upon and made in Turkish Lire. Ha! Oddly enough the old lady was usually very quick to call her English-speaking grandson when comms failed; she refused to call him today!
After a two hour climb on roads which make Devon's look good we were forced to turn around as the pass over the top is snowbound. This meant turning round and a five hour journey becoming nine hour slog. None of the grinning, waving locals thought to mention it, until one did, of course. Lots of Chinese engineers in the hills using drones to survey the path of the cables and pipelines.
The route took us south again to Batumi before heading north on the other side of the eastern mountains.
As we came down we passed a cyclist again, a tall dishevelled fellow with an English bike and kit everywhere. Driving through the coffin-sized holes at 5kmph as we were he was able to hail us and ask for a lift. A pleasant chap who loved Lancelot at once, particularly as his bike and gear were stowed-away on the roof in no time and a week of cycling along roads he had already been on passed in five hours.
We dropped Jack, engineering grad from London destined for a commission in the GREN GDS (someone has to), in Kutaisi, about two and a half hours short of where we hoped to get to. No worries, we can do that hop tomorrow and the place we are staying has a brewery...we have a few pennies in local currency to sample the goods.
The drive from Batumi to Kutaisi was fabulous, first the winding roads with eh sun out and the river below charging ahead of us, then the plains of Batumi and finally the enormous valley between the two vast snow-capped mountain ranges, with a passenger too!
Kutaisi is one of the world's oldest continuously inhabited cities and is the former Colchian capital - it is in fact where Jason came to steal the fabled Golden Fleece from. We might fit in famous monastery in before we head further east towards Yerevan. Just think, had we not been stopped by the snow we would have driven past without stopping and one of my objectives, to visit where Jason took the fleece from King Aetes would have been missed. Fate! Pictures to follow....
The old gent dragged us to the outside mountain-view table at which breakfast, which we already confirmed we did not want was waiting...more tapis, more cream, cheese, honey and a delicious circular bred filled with...cheese!
A glass of cherry juice later and the bill arrived; charged for a few meals we did not eat, (fewer in number than meals we did not ask for but ate anyway, after all, one never knows where the next meal is coming from and as taught in resistance to interrogation, accept all comforts that are offered) but the extra night's room price was doubled. A few sharp but pleasant words and we departed a few quid lighter and the difference in the bill agreed upon and made in Turkish Lire. Ha! Oddly enough the old lady was usually very quick to call her English-speaking grandson when comms failed; she refused to call him today!
After a two hour climb on roads which make Devon's look good we were forced to turn around as the pass over the top is snowbound. This meant turning round and a five hour journey becoming nine hour slog. None of the grinning, waving locals thought to mention it, until one did, of course. Lots of Chinese engineers in the hills using drones to survey the path of the cables and pipelines.
The route took us south again to Batumi before heading north on the other side of the eastern mountains.
As we came down we passed a cyclist again, a tall dishevelled fellow with an English bike and kit everywhere. Driving through the coffin-sized holes at 5kmph as we were he was able to hail us and ask for a lift. A pleasant chap who loved Lancelot at once, particularly as his bike and gear were stowed-away on the roof in no time and a week of cycling along roads he had already been on passed in five hours.
We dropped Jack, engineering grad from London destined for a commission in the GREN GDS (someone has to), in Kutaisi, about two and a half hours short of where we hoped to get to. No worries, we can do that hop tomorrow and the place we are staying has a brewery...we have a few pennies in local currency to sample the goods.
The drive from Batumi to Kutaisi was fabulous, first the winding roads with eh sun out and the river below charging ahead of us, then the plains of Batumi and finally the enormous valley between the two vast snow-capped mountain ranges, with a passenger too!
Kutaisi is one of the world's oldest continuously inhabited cities and is the former Colchian capital - it is in fact where Jason came to steal the fabled Golden Fleece from. We might fit in famous monastery in before we head further east towards Yerevan. Just think, had we not been stopped by the snow we would have driven past without stopping and one of my objectives, to visit where Jason took the fleece from King Aetes would have been missed. Fate! Pictures to follow....
Yes, check your tyre pressures!
I am not convinced that the fuel from here would agree with Lancelot but bit is a very picturesque filling station!
Rajendra the tiger is the route pathfinder. This is about ten km before we had to turn around.
I am not convinced that the fuel from here would agree with Lancelot but bit is a very picturesque filling station!
Rajendra the tiger is the route pathfinder. This is about ten km before we had to turn around.
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What a drive - the boy from Solihull did well! 1650 m of ascent in one go on an unmade road undergoing surfacing, with trucks galore and lunatics overtaking uphill and always failing to make it past the ascending vehicles, meaning the whole queue slows down, thanks to one impatient ignoramus….all good fun!
The temperature has returned to 27/29 C, with dust in the air. Lancelot’s interior looks like he has done the Paris Dakar. Over the mountains to our north the temperature is in the thirties….
We are staying at a beer spa! Don’t ask, you can bathe in vats of hops or barley. The important thing is that beer is brewed in this one horse town 60km from the Armenian border. We were offered measures to test earlier. Jolly good!
Then my post shower reverie was shattered as a group of loud English people arrived…they probably noticed our number plates and are thinking “bloody Germans!”
A happy hound, sunbathing.
Empty glasses…
Check out the Toyota on bricks- beware Scousers!
The temperature has returned to 27/29 C, with dust in the air. Lancelot’s interior looks like he has done the Paris Dakar. Over the mountains to our north the temperature is in the thirties….
We are staying at a beer spa! Don’t ask, you can bathe in vats of hops or barley. The important thing is that beer is brewed in this one horse town 60km from the Armenian border. We were offered measures to test earlier. Jolly good!
Then my post shower reverie was shattered as a group of loud English people arrived…they probably noticed our number plates and are thinking “bloody Germans!”
A happy hound, sunbathing.
Empty glasses…
Check out the Toyota on bricks- beware Scousers!
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Billies are great , it’s a wish I was there moment , looking forward to the next episode
That's great.. You could just see that on asy the M1
Too fast for the M1!That's great.. You could just see that on asy the M1
Evening all - another 180 km on the road today finds us in Armenia and having a wet (Earl Grey, no milk for the Chief as I bought sour cream not milk for her tea - and even after doing a cow and added squeezing impression to the lady in the shop....she probably thought I was an escaped lunatic so nodded politely in order that I leave).
An interesting evening with the English cyclists and tales to tell of our border crossings. Only two hours and forty seven minutes to bounce into Armenia; beats the ten hours in Lagos and that was with a diplomatic passport!
Here are few pictures to whet your appetite, its time to shower, eat, watch a little Netflix and hit the hay!
Lancelot is being difficult with first and reverse gears, otherwise sterling service knocking out 15km to the Litre and that with a fair bit of kit on board. Clutch issues may be ahead...another 250 km to go before he can rest a little.
An interesting evening with the English cyclists and tales to tell of our border crossings. Only two hours and forty seven minutes to bounce into Armenia; beats the ten hours in Lagos and that was with a diplomatic passport!
Here are few pictures to whet your appetite, its time to shower, eat, watch a little Netflix and hit the hay!
Lancelot is being difficult with first and reverse gears, otherwise sterling service knocking out 15km to the Litre and that with a fair bit of kit on board. Clutch issues may be ahead...another 250 km to go before he can rest a little.
Oooh, I forgot, completely to mention our visit to the former monastery and cave city of Vardzia, not far from the Turkish and Armenian borders. During the 12th Century the Mongols were constantly battering at the gates of the many fortresses along the border and the King (a woman, named Tamar and held to be the most successful monarch in the country's history, with a 35 year reign during which the country's power and lands increased enormously. Tamar was given the title King because Queen was what a King's wife was called, not the title for a ruler) ordered a city to be built in the mountains as a bolt hole for the monks, intelligentsia, nobles and a few peasants to do the shit jobs. No change there then!
The city iwas constructed with over 3000 (not a typo, three thousand) separate man-made rock rooms of which hundreds have survived, including a beautiful church (opened as we were leaving and luckily we were backtracking to head down the mountain back to the animals trapped in Lancelot) with the original 12/13th C frescoes mostly intact. Refectories, wine cellars, a sanctuary to escape attackers which could be blocked at multiple points along its 300m corridor, all of it hewn from the rock and at six feet four I had to stoop the whole way. It was like the Smart Tube tunnels on bloody Wodbury Common, with out my favourite sheep dip!
Suffice to say an incredible place and although there is much modern metal work to prevent subsidence it has survived thus far; the massive 1988 earthquake destroyed over 2000 monument so historical significance not to mention destroying many Soviet-built blocks and houses, leaving 25,000 homeless in this area alone.
More to follow tomorrow!
T
The city iwas constructed with over 3000 (not a typo, three thousand) separate man-made rock rooms of which hundreds have survived, including a beautiful church (opened as we were leaving and luckily we were backtracking to head down the mountain back to the animals trapped in Lancelot) with the original 12/13th C frescoes mostly intact. Refectories, wine cellars, a sanctuary to escape attackers which could be blocked at multiple points along its 300m corridor, all of it hewn from the rock and at six feet four I had to stoop the whole way. It was like the Smart Tube tunnels on bloody Wodbury Common, with out my favourite sheep dip!
Suffice to say an incredible place and although there is much modern metal work to prevent subsidence it has survived thus far; the massive 1988 earthquake destroyed over 2000 monument so historical significance not to mention destroying many Soviet-built blocks and houses, leaving 25,000 homeless in this area alone.
More to follow tomorrow!
T
The road...
A fortress on the vulnerable pass to the east.
The view from one of the larger rooms looking across the valley.
Couldn’t resist the Chinese Tourist posing for her husband….they took almost as long as an Armenian border guard although her hat is not nearly as funny.
The roof picture was taken above where Mrs Mao is standing.
A fortress on the vulnerable pass to the east.
The view from one of the larger rooms looking across the valley.
Couldn’t resist the Chinese Tourist posing for her husband….they took almost as long as an Armenian border guard although her hat is not nearly as funny.
The roof picture was taken above where Mrs Mao is standing.
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A couple more. Novel use of a rail carriage as a bridge isn’t it?
The Georgian flag is at the last town of any size, some twenty k's from the Armenian border, thirty one from the Turkish border.
A cafe called Yummy...which they translated into Armenian.
Here is a shot of the bakery, we bought the round bread (delicious) still hot, for 25 pence, approximately 18 inches across and half an inch thick! Perfect with goat's cheese for a lunch time picnic.
The Georgian flag is at the last town of any size, some twenty k's from the Armenian border, thirty one from the Turkish border.
A cafe called Yummy...which they translated into Armenian.
Here is a shot of the bakery, we bought the round bread (delicious) still hot, for 25 pence, approximately 18 inches across and half an inch thick! Perfect with goat's cheese for a lunch time picnic.
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Our location tonight is so bare-arsed it comes up on the weather app we use as "Location: Highway T-7-78"
Evening All,
A long day, only 210 km of driving through mountains and later in the day, rain for 70km, but our plans were scuppered on arriving at our accommodation to find that we had made an error in booking and our rooms had no cooking facilities. Run by a wild-eyed Iranian and his wife we discovered that the guests in the apartment with the kitchen had just extended by another ten days. Drat.
We decided to head all the way to Yerevan and although the parking is worse than Knightsbridge on a Friday we are in a quiet modern apartment. Once again no blasted bed-side lights although there is a park for the whole team to enjoy minutes away.
At our beer spa thither night the Chief got talking to one of the Brits about the dog and led to all of us talking to the Brits until just shy of midnight. The beer was very good, no hangover (but hardly a run ashore in terms of amounts imbibed) and we were told about King Tamar's Caves and the chaps learned that the path they wished to cycle was closed - they wished to cross the mountains by the same route as us from the opposite direction. We saved them some days of frustration - one of them isa pilot who must fly a 737 to Egypt on Tuesday, so time is of the essence. Great to talk proper English with other indigenous mother-tongue speakers!
Now time for a shower and a few gallons of water before a brief kip and departing for the airport at 0230 to collect Team Member Number Three fresh from a week in Germany with his father, sister, aunt and cousins.
Bye for now!
T
A long day, only 210 km of driving through mountains and later in the day, rain for 70km, but our plans were scuppered on arriving at our accommodation to find that we had made an error in booking and our rooms had no cooking facilities. Run by a wild-eyed Iranian and his wife we discovered that the guests in the apartment with the kitchen had just extended by another ten days. Drat.
We decided to head all the way to Yerevan and although the parking is worse than Knightsbridge on a Friday we are in a quiet modern apartment. Once again no blasted bed-side lights although there is a park for the whole team to enjoy minutes away.
At our beer spa thither night the Chief got talking to one of the Brits about the dog and led to all of us talking to the Brits until just shy of midnight. The beer was very good, no hangover (but hardly a run ashore in terms of amounts imbibed) and we were told about King Tamar's Caves and the chaps learned that the path they wished to cycle was closed - they wished to cross the mountains by the same route as us from the opposite direction. We saved them some days of frustration - one of them isa pilot who must fly a 737 to Egypt on Tuesday, so time is of the essence. Great to talk proper English with other indigenous mother-tongue speakers!
Now time for a shower and a few gallons of water before a brief kip and departing for the airport at 0230 to collect Team Member Number Three fresh from a week in Germany with his father, sister, aunt and cousins.
Bye for now!
T
