Day 1,489

Chiatura

From Kutaisi we headed towards Tkibuli, it wasn't too far, around 33 miles, but with 3,500 feet of climbing and with the Garmin temperature hitting low 40s it was going to be tough. My cold was still lingering and Tom had obviously caught it, so we were both struggling. The plan really was to push on to Chiatura to see some more derelict Soviet remains, but that was a town too far. The route took us on quiet back roads, we stopped to drink a gallon or two of water each at a shop, we felt as if we were melting, and three school-aged girls, probably around 10 were sitting there too. One of them started singing rap songs in English.  We couldn't tear ourselves away, she was so good, when we finally set off we discovered she was actually fluent in English. We had a natter then it was back on the road. The views kept us going, stunning mountains all around, though there was little traffic we had plenty of  company, it seemed every corner we turned around a herd of cows was ambling along. There were plenty of dogs too, but so far our worries about dangerous dog encounters in Georgia were proving unfounded.  

By mid-afternoon we’d had enough so we pulled off the main route, there was one hotel in Tkibuli, conveniently at the furthest point from the highway! The town was somewhat bizarre, with a big, elegant sweeping drive through the centre, a grand theatre, big public buildings, swimming pool, but no restaurants and barely any people. High above was a stunning mountain range and even the remains of an old Soviet chairlift. Still it had a hotel and tonight we needed one, we were both feeling ill. When we pulled up in front of it I nearly wept, for it was a building site! 

The rain was starting and I just needed to crawl into bed. Unbelievably on the 3rd floor was a mirage, a fully fitted out, smart corridor of bedrooms, complete with a tiny kitchen area. The water for the shower came from both the shower head and the light fitting, so we just didn't bother with the light. No way were we moving rooms, a bed was all we needed. We stayed 2 nights and though I felt much better when we left, Tom was definitely starting with the cold, which had now evolved into Russian Flu. 

The threatened rain had come and gone, the thunder and lightning had been spectacular, but it made us review our route plans. Tom wanted to ride up for several thousand feet, cycle on a dirt track by a river, lined with waterfalls. I mentioned that maybe that would not be wise due to all the rain during the night, ‘what rain?’ he asked, somehow he'd slept through it.  

I won, and we headed downhill, before obviously riding back up again, then down, then up. Nearly 5,000 feet of it, with the hot and humid weather to keep us going. The views were just as dramatic and we also had a treat inshore. A visit to the Katskhi Pillar. 

The pillar is a natural limestone monolith, standing 130 feet high. It has been venerated for centuries as the Pillar of Life, and a symbol of the True Cross. Remains of a hermitage dating from around the 9th century have been uncovered at the top, and it is believed it was still in use until at least the 13th century. At the start of the 21st century funding was found to enable the monastery to be restored, and a monk still lives up there today, we believe. 

The Katskhi Pillar - best seen from here we reckon

Naturally to get there we had to cycle up a very steep hill, so steep both Tom and I struggled to stay on the bikes. He pulled ahead and I spotted him stopped in the car park. He appeared to be surrounded by tiny women, all brandishing umbrellas. It is not that unusual so I wasn't too concerned. Sure enough when I arrived the ladies were all still there. A coach tour group from China. After each and every one had taken several dozen photos with Tom, with Tom and I, with them on my bike, etc. etc., they left, assuring us we would now be famous in China. Our pleas for a visa letter of invite seemed to fall on deaf ears.

We dutifully took our own photos of the pillar, very impressive it was too, debated camping there, but with no food or water decided to press on to Chiatura. As we approached the outskirts we saw a stunning monument, dedicated to the soldiers of WW2. 

Person for person, heavier than the Shumen Monument we reckon

Then, downhill into the town. Back in the mid-1800s it was just a stunning gorge, then manganese and iron ore were discovered, and the miners moved in. In 1905, during the Russian Revolution, Chiatura was a Bolshovic stronghold due to a Georgian chap, from nearby Gori, one Joseph Stalin (wonder what happened to him?) convincing the miners to back his side, he persuaded them to work 18 hour days, sleep in the mine, with obviously no showers to hand. Sounds rather like a Monty Python sketch. Eventually a system of cable cars were built to ferry the miners from the town to the mines in the cliffs towering above. They even made a mosaic representing Stalin and Lenin’s heads and put it above the entrance to one of the chairlifts. These ran until 2017, and the remains are busy rotting away all around. Fortunately one line has been fully restored and is due to open any day now, unfortunately not when we were there. There are 4 new, modern lines and Tom and I rode them all. Fortunately underneath the chairlift building at the closed sanatorium was a restaurant, again we couldn't find one that was open and serving food actually in the town. 

Rust, flaking paint and concrete degradation never looked so good

Then that was it….decision time, did I want to cycle up 10,000 feet to a mist covered mountain, a Soviet Friendship Monument, and a monastery, which may be closed and may have scaffolding on it? I decided to sleep on it, and make my choice in the morning. Bonne nuit!