Ch 33, Day 24: The Hike Through Lower Svaneti

 35.3
kms, Sept 18, 2021

The
next morning, the Traveler gets up and sets his sights to the east.
Today the real Svaneti adventure begins. Here he will follow
the Tskhenistskali River upstream all day, stay at a guesthouse
overnight, and tomorrow climb up towards the 2,600 meter Zagari Pass,
the “high point” of the Traveler's Journey through the Caucasus.
That area looks very isolated and probably can have dangerous weather
even in summertime. It's quite possible there will be not traffic at
all... so the Traveler knows he needs to plan ahead and think through
possible challenge ahead of time. He isn't geared up for camping in
the cold, so he knows he really should avoid staying the night up
there...

But
today, it looks like it will still be a leisurely stroll. According
to Google, there are several restaurants and guesthouses along the
way... there's little traffic... Should be an easy day.

The
Traveler is, again, reminded not to trust Google Maps too much. Many
of the places marked Guesthouses or restaurants are now shut down.
There's one spot where a sign points to a “Bar/Cafe” across the
raging river. But the bridge consists of two beams with most of the
slats broken, making for an extremely dangerous crossing.

“That
coffee must be 'to die for'” chuckles the Traveler. Even he is not
that reckless to try and make the crossing (and almost certainly that
cafe no longer exists).

The
scenery is nice, with wooded mountainsides and a narrow gorge
below—but not the majestic snowcovered mountain panoramas the
Traveler was looking forward to. To see that, he would need to climb
to a higher altitude. Be patient, he reminds himself, I'll get to
that soon enough.

The
road alternates between paved and unpaved, with cars inching along.
Here the Traveler can see how the fellow in Zestafoni drove for five
hours without seeing any villages... he was driving very very slow...

But
there is work being done. The Traveler reaches a spot where a side
stream brought with it tons of rock—especially loose shale,
covering the road. There is heavy equipment clearing out the road
again, but it looks like a never ending job. All along the way there
are spots that look like a landslide just waiting to happen, with a
lot of loose rock that just needs a little push to come tumbling down
to the road.

This
is a reminder of the challenges facing this region. This entire
valley is home to just a couple thousand people that are always at
risk of being cut off from the rest of the country. Being hard to
get to was once a blessing for this region—making it almost
impossible to invade. Now, it doesn't seem like such a blessing.

The
Traveler wonders though, who is paying for these roads to be cleared,
the locals or the national government? And if it's the government,
are they doing it because they care about the local people, or to
keep this area open to tourism?

Observations
on Lower Svaneti

As
he Traveler passes his first village, Chvelieri, he starts
noticing more details about this regions culture. There is a little
bit of farming—some corn still—showing that there are people who
are still living off the land. But he does suspect that many houses
here are just vacation homes for families that have sought their
fortunes elsewhere. Other homes are abandoned—along with local
government buildings. It does seem that the school is still
functioning.

There
is a little shop, but as many shops he has passed, it is closed with
a phone number posted on the front. A little annoying for the
Traveler, as he doesn't have a Georgian phone number, but he does see
the logic to this. Why should the shopkeeper be required to sit the
entire day just waiting for customers, when he/she could be out in
the garden or doing other productive stuff? If everying has
phones... this does seem a much more efficient way to run a shop in a
small community...

The
Traveler does find another shop that is open, and the lady actually
makes coffee here, so he can make up for the coffee that he decided
not to risk his life for by crossing the river...

What
other resources does this region have? Here in Lower Svaneti there
really isn't much foreign tourism. That, he will learn, is mostly on
the other side of the mountains in Upper Svaneti. The forest around
is dense and seems pretty much undisturbed. This is very nice to
see—especially after having hiked the mountains of Morocco and
other places which are pretty much denuded of trees, with devestating
consequences on the environment.

But
at the same time... he wonders... some of these trees could be
harvested in a sustainable way, couldn't they? He wonders why this
isn't happening. Is it strict government regulations? Or do people
just not think of doing this? Anyway, he is enjoying this hike past
miles and miles of undisturbed forest, occasionally interrupted by a
beautiful waterfall tumbling down a slit between the mountains.

He
reaches Leusheri. Here there are occasionally signs pointing
to a church up the a side back up the hillside. Sometimes he follows
for a little ways—but then remembers that he needs to keep up his
pace if he hopes to make it all the way up the valley today. Learning
about religion here in Svaneti will have to wait for another time.
There are also towers along the way, often next to a house. Towers
of stacked slate rock that narrow a little towards the top and slit
windows and an angled roof on top. These towers, he will learn, are
an integral part of Svan culture—much moreso in Upper Svaneti.

They
do look like defensive towers, which begs the question: who would you
need to build defensive towers in a region that has never been
invaded or conquered?

The
Traveler's host back in Tsageri explained that, while Svaneti has
never been invaded from the outside, this doesn't mean it's
always been peaceful. Clans would fight each other. Even neighbors.
This region still has had a lot of violence in its history.

But
later the Traveler asks Nicolas, the French filmmaker about this and
he disputes this theory, “to build one of these towers would've
taken a lot of men working together. So you'd think neighbors
would've had to help each other to build a tower. So it wouldn't
make sense that they would build a tower to defend agains their next
door neighbors.”

The
Traveler is looking forward to learning more about these towers in
the days ahead. Right now there don't seem to be many opportunities
to converse and learn from the locals about their culture. It's
afternoon when he reaches Sasashi, a pleasant shady village
along a rare flat section between the river and the mountain. Here
he passes a house with a large statue in the front yard. It looks
like Joseph Stalin. The Traveler suspects that, in the days of
“de-Stalinization”, when the Soviet Union—and later Georgia
tried to distance themselves from their most infamous former ruler,
one fellow here decided to snag one of those statues for himself
before it got destroyed...

The
Traveler is starting to feel that he should start looking for a place
to stay the night, even though it's still early. But the guesthouses
in Sasashi appear to no longer be in use... so the Traveler continues
on, aware that his options are getting to be fewer and fewer...

Reaching
a semi-Shangri-Li

Past
Sasashi, the Pishkori River, tumbling down the mountains, joins the
Tskhenistkali River. Here the road zigzags up the mountainside a bit,
with a beautiful panoramic view of the valley up ahead.

Partway
up the mountainside is the community of Jakhunderi. Below,
the river gorge gradually widens to the point where, it looks like
there is some serious faming going on.

Could
it be? Wonders the Traveler, is this actual Shangri-La up ahead? Up
until now he has passed villages with little patches of corn and a
few cows wandering about—but not nearly enough farming or herding
to sustain a village economy. Up ahead, things look different.

But
the Traveler's real focus righ now is on finding a place to stay.
There should be two guesthouses here in Jakhunderi, and he's crossing
his fingers hoping at least one of them is open. He reaches where
the first one should be. There's an unmarked house with a man
working in the yard in back... The Traveler calls out to him... No,
he is told, this is not a guest house.

The
Traveler continues on. Up ahead is the second one, Hostel
Langusheda, standing all along near the valley floor with a Georgian
flag welcoming him... The Traveler eagerly heads down to it...

Yes,
he is told, it is a guesthouse. But no, there is not room for him...

The
Traveler is a bit flustered. He hasn't seen hardly any tourists all
day. How could it be full? And couldn't they just let him sleep on
the couch or something? He asks a couple locals about a “guesthouse”
hoping they will take the hint and see it as a opportunity to make a
couple bucks hosting a passing tourist... but no one seems
interested.

He
continues on, not able to fully appreciate the magic of this
Shangri-La, as the valley widens even more as he approaches another
village up ahead. He'd really like a good meal, a warm bed, a shower
and a chance to charge his phone to prep himself for the big
challenge tomorrow. But it looks like none of that is going to
happen.

But
when he reaches a lookout point where he can soak in the full
panorama. Here you can gaze down to the river... the idyllic fields
beside it where hay has been harvested and piled into mounds to dry.
Above the fields is undisturbed forest... and further above, is the
tree line where it looks like it's too cold for trees to grow... as
the mountains climb higher and higher providing an almost
inpenetrable wall around this charming valley.

Along
the road, a couple of older farmers are chatting and relaxing at the
end of a hard day of work.

Is
this the Shangri-La I have been looking for? Wonders the Traveler.
Here, people are still clearly serious about farming. And it does
seem like there is enough food being grown that could sustain a
community year round—and plenty of water... plenty of wood
available for fuel...

Yes,
the Traveler concludes. If global civilization were to collapse, and
the rest of the world become dangerous and terrible once again.
Folks here in this valley could go back to being self sufficient, and
live off of what they can grow and raise. No, this valley is not
currently self-sufficient... but it could be.

And
life could go on pretty much unchanged for a very long time. Yes,
life would be hard... life expenctancy would go down. People would
die from infections and diseases without medicine from the outside.
There might be plagues and natural disasters that would decimate the
population from time to time.

But
civilization could continue here, untouched by the chaos that there
might be outside in the rest of the world.

And
this, the Traveler finds to be very beautiful and inspiring. This is
where he feels he can peer far into the future and see what the world
might look like in a thousand... five thousand years.... At least
what this little corner of the world. And this sense of timelessness
is something wonderful to feel.

And
then... it's time to reconnect to the realities and challenges of the
here and now.

He
reaches the village of Mele. He reaches a little shop with a
handwritten sign that says “guesthouse”. He goes inside a large
grassy courtyard. Yes, he is told, this is a guesthouse. The lady
doesn't seem very happy to see a guest just show up unannounced while
she is cooking supper, but after a little wait she shows him to a
nicely fixed up room in a rural Russian-style houses with lots and
lots of windows to allow sunlight into the enclosed hallway. He
takes a shower, and then is told that supper is ready. It's look
like this day is going to end well after all.

Supper
in Lower Svaneti

He
sits down at a table outside with two older men. One is the man of
the house, the other is a worker who is renting a room here. Both of
them are road construction workers.

The
older man's wife brings them food... there's an adult daughter and a
grandchild who runs about. It seems that some of the family at least
live here year round.

Here
the Traveler enjoys a supper that a typical family might eat, rather
than food prepared for tourists. It is quite plentiful, with cheese,
soup... the ubiquitous tomato and cucumber salad... and a fried
cornbread, the first time the Traveler has seen corn actually used as
a staple.

The
men seem a bit stiff at first, but gradually loosen up as they
attempt to converse using gestures and very, very limited vocabulary
they share in common. While the Traveler doesn't feel the same
warmth that he's felt when spontaneously welcomed by other folks
along the way, he doesn't feel unwelcome either... and that is good
enough for him.

He
heads off to bed. Tomorrow will be a big day.