Day C7: Making Up Ground

August 1, 2024

Having made a start on trying to understand the source of my ethnic origins, today involved more pressing matters: bike a lot of distance. The hotel really saved the day, it was beautiful and peaceful. Although I sweated like crazy trying to fight off the remains of that covid, by the time I woke up most of the energy was back. For the last five days in a row I've been sleeping 10-12 hours a night.

Once again another pleasant surprise at the hotel. They offered a free local breakfast, and it was a wonderful spread. Coffee and eggs as always to start, then some bread with goat cheese, cucumbers, apple juice, and apricot jam. The only catch was it would be ready at 10am so I had to wait an hour. Such as it is with the time schedule here. The daughter of the host, along with her husband, were the two who could speak really good English. She emerged first wrapped in a shawl as apparently it was very cold. I was also getting a sense of the preferred fashion, the women really like long curly hair and jean jackets.

I was offered the option to pay cash or credit card and I thought about it: credit card would be perfect. That way I could save the rest of my dram, about $100 worth, and change it at the border. I asked if you could change money at the border and she said, "No, it can only be back in Gyumri." Well shucks, there is no way in hell I would bike all the way back there and fight massive headwinds again just for a currency exchange. There had to be somewhere to change it at the border.

She insisted on giving me an elaborate sendoff and said "Steve, make sure to give us a rave review on Google, Tripadvisor, and anything else online." I assured her I would do that. The name of the hotel is Herbs and Honey.

Thankfully the elevation profile showed fewer hills and lighter winds so it was going to be a good day. I sailed out of there along the plateau to back that up.

The border crossing was super interesting. They greeted me on the Aremenia side with "Hello my friend" and showed me how to get stamped out. I asked the immigration officer, "Is there a place to change money here?"

He replied in the classic way you will hear at borders only: "Sharnge money?" Then he got up from his post and ushered me through a secret door with a keycard that only he could access. On the other side was a bank for staff only and I offloaded every piece of dram I had including all the coins. It was a fair exchange too. I managed to get over 300 laris worth. This turned out to be ideal as I could budget that to last until Batumi. With this section of road surely the most remote, the chances of finding an ATM were slim despite whatever was on unreliable Google Maps.

That done, the guards sent me off with a smile and it was onwards to the Georgia side. I could see a guard at pre-inspection looking at me far off in the distance so there was no way I was taking pictures. He was very stern and only said one thing: "Passport". I showed him that and he waved me through. Next was a small wait for primary inspection and the policeman here was also rather gruff but he easily helped me get a stamp and said afterwards, "Welcome to Georgia!"

Finally it was customs and the guy was serious at first, but suddenly lit up and was all smiles when I told him I came from Canada. He then took a cursory glance through my bags and said, "Ah, a bottle of cognac. You can bring more than that in you know. Problem, no. This is an alcohol country." He said again, "Welcome to Georgia! Where are you going my friend?" I told him Batumi and he gave me a big thumbs up and said, "You're going to have a good time!"

Fun fact: Batumi is the Pattaya of Georgia but with legalized gambling added to the mix.

The initial riding was much the same as the Armenia side and you couldn't notice any differences. It was only until reaching the first town that changes began to appear. The language script was totally different, and it seemed that even less English was spoken.

Then at the first food court, I didn't even have to try to find the local staple.

Found that famous cheese bread. Rather, it found me

I was getting a feeling that if I wasn't careful I would be getting mighty sick of that cheese bread. As wonderful as it is, the calories on that thing are way out of control. Even with biking I'll have not much choice but to stay away from it. As the towns continued to materialize, almost all the markets and restaurants were selling cheese bread with the runner up 'kachori' that is more like ground beef in a pastry. There were not that many healthy food options. Maybe cheese bread was going to be it.

Just past the midway point, the road started descending down into a gorge. I thought this was going to be temporary and it would dip back uphill to the other side, but that was actually the wrong fork in the road. The direction that I wanted, surprisingly enough, continued down a massive canyon for over 40km. It was all downhill from here.

Looking down the gorge. That road with the trucks on it going back up was actually *not* my route!

Excellent then, we'll just fly right along this road

This was really the break I had been hoping for. About 10km into it, another cyclist appeared chugging up the hill the opposite way. We stopped for a chat, and Mara from Portugal had started way back there in her home country and was doing a multi-country trip. Not surprisingly, her gear setup was all professional like a real touring cyclist. Including a tent. She saw my setup and basically laughed at me. After a fist bump, the first words out of her mouth were, "Why you put those bags on the handlebars and not on the back?" I explained, "The panniers are full and there is no more space." She said, "You could always attach them on the rack between the panniers and tie with bungee cord."

Well maybe I'll try that out tomorrow and see how it goes. Truth to be told it appeared like I was running errands from the market, not doing a tour.

I gave her some information about the road ahead which she thanked me for and I also mentioned where the hotels were. She said, "No need hotels, I'll use my tent." Ok then, tent it is. More power to you. Everyone has different styles and there is no cookie-cutter way to tour. She then took pity on me and asked, "Do you need anything?" I told her I'll be fine.

Evidently though I wasn't worthy of much of a chat given my amateur style. Besides it was getting late in the day so it was better we both bounced.

Eventually I found a town to stop at over 100km which was great distance and I was exhausted. Finding hotels proved to be a challenge. There was basically one game in town. The owner tried speaking to me in multiple languages until he found one that worked: Spanish. A good deal was found at 60 laris.

While settling in, I finally recalled one last piece of the mega-conversation with the legendary hosts back at Gyumri Lake. After all the cognac back then I practiced some very rudimentary Russian and tried to say thank you 'spasibo'. She corrected me and said, "You're supposed to say merci, it's much better to say it. That's the local language. Why do you want to learn that garbage? I think you're better off to keep studying Ukraine language as well as other local languages in your travels. That way, the next time you come to these areas they will treat you much better. Did you realize that less and less people here in Armenia speak Russian now? It's getting to the point that the next generation growing up, i.e. my kids, won't be able to speak it fluently. Their English is a little better, and this is the likely change. But sometimes they have no choice. Their favorite cartoons are all in Russian and the videos games that my teenager likes to play are also. So it can't be avoided entirely, but you're better off not investing in that."

All this for 9 laris ($3.30). I've noticed prices already dropped by half in Georgia and the vibes here are also richer.

Today's ride: 105 km (65 miles)
Total: 754 km (468 miles)

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