continua...

out of space :(
but the adventure continues at http://knillita.wordpress.com/ :D
see you there!!!!!!!!!!

dia uno

We start with an overnight train: Tbilisi - Zugdidi. The journey will start from here heading north, but the journey wont start today, rain pushes us into looking for shelter and once again, lady luck wil have me find the most interesting possibility  a girl taking singing lessons from Satrpialo, a legend around here in Magrelia with his folk singing... all this as i was yearning for new (to me) music!!!

2 voices, a young one and an old one, joining forces with the magrelian guitar.
The sounds fill the room. His presence is great, even with his 89 years of age. In between songs he leans back, chuckles and then tells a story, she reflects on the story, i scribble something down...
couldn't ask for a better way to start this new trip :)

and along the way, a quick stop to eat near an old time tradition here in Magrelia, food for the departed....

a single road heading North with the impressive sight of Svaneti to keep the motivation....

vacaciones

a holiday within the holiday....

because sleeping in a tent, waking up early and riding through out the day is not always easy, we take a rest in Tbilisi: a week of sleeping late in a bed and without pedaling brings new strength to the body, specially when good company comes along for a week :)

Food, music and more food. Tbilisi is the capital for a reason, all the different characters that make Georgia Georgia are present here......

Weather is not the best but we push through...

Marta and I will do one more loop around: The town of Mestia awaits, with its beautiful views and hopefully not so much snow ;)

ill see you then...

chauuuuuuu

btw, thanks for all the birthday wishes :)

Georgia!

after 4 yearsof trying and trying, I finally arrive in Georgia!! beautifull Georgia with its valleys and its mountains.. and more valleys and some more mountains.

Riding through this land, the story of how god himself gave Georgians the piece of land he had saved for himself seems more and more real. Green every which way and smiling faces lining the fields.
It really is Georgia the Beautiful! and the houses seem out of a humphrey Bogart story: 2 stories, long entrances, a flank or two for horses, plus the khurma tree welcoming from afar







We are just 4 days into the journey, right at the beginning some might say, but have already been invited to a few weddings, a couple of them being my own, and, of course, to home-made chacha  oposna :)

season of Khurma. Orange alongside the road. Fresh or dried, Khurma is the food of choice now whenever we stop along the way.

We, as I encountered a fellow rider in Batumi. Four wheels riding up and down and toward Tbilisi.

love between a Christian girl and a muslim boy. Even that is to be found in Georgia :)

Sedita 2

and we come to the last part of the Turkish silk road and my way out of Turkey.
From our crossing the Van Lake, the road has transported us more and more back in time, with its impressive christian monasteries, regional castles and caravan rest stops along the silk road... with the Ararat mountain overlooking every step, we say our goodbyes......







Akdamar monastery. A last post of resistance from the christians (armenians) before Islam came to these lands....

up and down the road winds, on the ups, we feel as if looking straight into Ararat; when coming down it's only the tip we get to see as we hang on to our hat not to drop it: 80kph winds help a bit too much on the descend.....

great people I get to meet, and even play photographer for some of their outings :)

angeles

Y uno diria que luego de dos meses de viaje, es normal que halla encontrado una situacion mala, pero duele el como sucedio.
No fue un hurto, un golpe, un arrachon corriendo, un asalto. Fue luego de un compartir: un compartir de horas, un compartir de comida y bebida. Un compartir de emociones: yo compartiendo mis creencias q en el mundo hay mas gente buena q mala, q no hay q estar siempre con la guardia en alto. Ellos compartiendo q no siempre se debe confiar en la gente. Yo refuntandoles: ¡q horrible seria vivir en un mundo en donde en nadie se puede confiar! Ironia. O talvez es lo q lo hace mas hiriente....
y fué un grupo de muchachos estudiantes los q vinieron a sacarme de aquel lugar, a proponerme el partir. Un partir q a un principio refute pero q luego acepte al ver q muchas de mis cosas ya habian desaparecido en bolsillos de mis nuevos amigos. Dolio de verdad. Y dolio aun mas pues la semilla ya estaba plantada. Al caminar, ni de los muchachos estudiantes me podia fiar, si hasta pense en subir en mi bici y huir, huir de ellos q eran los q me habian salvado! q feo! feo de verdad. Encontrarse sentado en una esquina, abrazando la pequenha mochila q se tiene, viendo alrededor, en cada esquina un riesgo y en cada cara un extranho....
fueron un par de horibles horas, el ver el mundo oscuroy peligroso. A veces es feo el tener razon: que horrible vivir en un mundo en donde en nadie se puede confiar....

pero aquel momento pasó. Hoy veo nuevamente caras sonrientes en las esquinas y me recuerdo de un estampado de un polo q alguna vez lei: "Guarda, forze acanto tuo c'e un angelo", y q hoy decido yo traducirlo como: "pon atencion q al lado hay un angel"
y para no olvidarlo, adjunto la foto de algunos de los angeles de este viaje y también una declaración de amor a este mundo - más q un juego de palabras ;)

sedita

Hard to believe what a conversation starter a torn up map can be. Despite of where I am, the minute I open my map, people flock and ideas, suggestions about what to do and where to go start pouring in; guesses as to where I've been, what I've enjoyed and eaten; all these thoughts will season the conversation and to complete it come questions about the future route...

Lately, the response to the latter has been pretty much the same everywhere: "you are going East! it'll be cold, there will be snow soon!!" ....Je peur... i still remember the time I almost lost a finger and an ear to the cold....

These thoughts of winter approaching, of cold winds coming at me, of snow covering the roads kept on haunting me for days at a time, but it was the (wise) comment of an (even wiser) friend that brought me back to beauty: "autumn has arrived! my favourite season is here..."

Then, at that point, the veil dissapears and I, once again, become able to see: where I saw white before I see green, red and orange now; where there was fear before, there is nothing but awe now. Awe at seeing nature and her wisdom: before the long sleep that is winter, she shows us her most beautiful colours... If I could do the same: show my most intense colours before going to the long sleep we all have to go to.....

so the road continues East...

leaving Batman (what a glorious name for a city) seems like leaving any other city: apartment buildings dissapear, houses become more and more isolated, farm animal traffic replaces car traffic.. but 20 km into the ride, down the same road, a change of scenery awaits for us: on an ever uphill winding road, stone bridges pave the road as castles and caravan palaces tower over it: we've entered the silk road,

The old road that connected East and West and that brought many a king, a prince, an army, a thief, a killer, an adventurer, a lover across continents, that same road this time brings me (a king, a lover?) East,

East up another mountain range, across a lake, into yet another steppe closely guarded by more watch towers, monateries and castles.

Van and the East welcome us with some (kacak) tea, neverending breakfast and funny looking cats ;)

Mardin

and it's true stones have become poems here...
encaramada en la cima de una montaña y con sus paredes de barro, inconspicuas casi, uno ni diría algo así puede tan siquiera existir, pero acércate, y veras los portales, pórticos, arcos, façadas, barandas, cúpulas.. tal vez lo más bello es que se puede volver uno con la montaña....

una sinfonía de arte, y una sinfonía mezclada. Una ciudad donde las torres minarets de las mezquitas y las torres campanarias de las iglesias se alzan por igual al cielo, cada una con su estilo, cada una con su fervor. Muchas mil civilizaciones pasaron por aquí, y lo hermoso fue que cada una dejó su huella
y lo más bello fue que la siguiente civilización no destruyó lo anterior. Grande el cocinero que se da cuenta que cada ingrediente le añade sabor a la sopa, ¿no? :)
me recuerda todo un poco a Noto, aquella poesía en Sicilia , o será que Noto me recuerdaba a Mardin?

Adyaman

to all the ones I got to meet here:
Tessekur ederim!!!

Nemrut

and like all these adventures, this one too starts totally umprepared: a late wake up, an oviparous breakfast (eggs and sucuk, thank you Kurdish hospitality), morning spent lolligaging around the area... and in this perusing ever winding road, a fork comes up, and with it, a man with a piece of advise: "this way is 40km to Nemrut, this other 20, but it's a little uphill..."
I chose the short ride.
(unknowingly)I chose the difficult ride.
I chose the beautiful ride.

2 hours later I was but half way up. Hunger and heat play an  important role on every ride, but on this one more than ever before... the entrance to Nemrut moutain lies on the edge of the Adyaman district, at least from the road I came in. I had spent 6 days already in Adyaman seeing beautiful sights but more than that, meeting great people. People that from the very beginning showered me with smiles and stories...

...so maybe I am wrong in saying I wasnt prepared for the ride, my mind was full of nice memories, my heart was full of joy and my bags exploding of parting gifts: tomatoes, onions, peppers, almonds, pistachios, bread, grape bread, nar, cookies...
This time was a great chance to put it all to good use. A small picnic, an even smaller nap and up we go. Up the other half of the mountain... Great views going up with the peak getting closer everytime, closer and closer but not quite.

What was to come was totally unexpected end: a road that went round the mountain to take us to the beginning of the next one, and from there, just there, Nemrut.
Knees and legs were weak, heavy as lead even. I'm sure it was the memories and the joy of the people met from Adyaman that carried me the rest of the way....
up up up


And from the top, the rewards dont make themselves be waited for: the view and more freat people that care enough to share their stories:
An older couple buys me a coke. He was a biker. She was a hitchiker. He gave her a lift 50 years ago, now they travel together in a caravan.
A villager coming for the 5th time to Nemrut. why? to show it to his new born grandchild.
Colombians on honeymoon and Japanese on holidays....

The view is magnificent. With the whole of Adyaman region below you is no wonder everyone comes here for the sunset/sunrise... camping there, I even got to enjoyed the night....

7hr going up, 1 hour going down. Then 2 more to reach the city limits, then a ferry across the Euphrates.
Joy....