How it all began

If you want to discover the hidden world of Tusheti in pictures just scroll down, otherwise please read on.

I've enjoyed writing about my family and the people we met while traveling around Tusheti .So if you have any Tushetien experiences you wish to share, drop me a line and we can add your experiences to this account. chris.wills@rufusleonard.com

A swift note: I've written this account of our travels in chronological order, reading from the top down of this Blog to the bottom - the reverse of a traditional Blog . If you wish to use the navigation on the right I recommend you work from the top downwards.


An introduction of sorts.
Over the past few years I’ve been dragging my family around Eastern Europe for our summer holidays to catch the last glimpses of traditional life held in aspic during the old communist rule.
Our quest was inspired by a trip to Hungary after the wall came down and many of the Soviet republics regained their independence while old Russia ground to an economic halt. We picked the thread up once again when our daughters, India and Iona, were ready to leave the beach behind and embrace real adventures without the bucket and spade.
First on the list was a trip to Romania riding in the Carpathian Mountains in Transylvania. We experienced an astonishing countryside and a way of life not seen in the UK since before the First World War. This small but significant adventure whetted our appetite for more mountains and some serious riding. Next on the list was riding over the Balkans in Bulgaria. I had assumed such a trip would be relatively leisurely but it ended up being more a test of stamina and determination, riding for up to eight hours a day with some of the longest trots I expect ever to encounter.
With the Carpathians and Balkans under our belt and ever increasing confidence in our ability, I managed to con my family into the idea of riding in the Caucuses in Georgia. This time we knew what to expect and how to survive without the obligatory morning shower and general creature comforts associated with family holidays. I knew Georgia was a fair distance from the UK and where I wanted us to travel was to the Dagestan and Chechnya boarders. What I wasn’t ready for was the way of life we were going to experience as a family and how remote the region was.

A bit of background - Our chosen destination was Tusheti where the Tush live and work from between May and October, herding their cattle and sheep over the pass to summer pastures in the Caucuses. This region has a magical climate not experienced by Georgians in the low lands and is often regarded as wild country by many Georgians ,only fit for mountain people.Frankly I think the Tush are quite happy to perpetuate this reputation, it keeps the lowland riff raff out, leaving Gods own country to some very special people.

In 2007 we set off on our journey from London to Tbilisi. After a white knuckle ride lasting eights hours from Tbilisi to Tusheti we discovered a world of brilliant horsemen with a passion for alcohol and life unsurpassed by normal folk. With no electricity or running water we swiftly discovered a life stripped bare of essentials but bursting with an abundance of wonderful fresh organic food and all number of dairy products created by our hosts. Lamb and chicken appeared frequently but not excessively. This had to be Shangri-La. After two weeks of riding along hair-raising trails, fording snow melt rivers, camping on mountain tops and generally living the life of adventurers from another age, we all agreed Tusheti was due another visit. We had only touched the surface of this magnificent land and we fancied another taste of somewhere very special. What we hadn’t reckoned on was how rich that flavour of Tusheti and Georgia was going to be.

This account is from our second trip to Tusheti.

If you find this journey through Tusheti absorbing you might like to visit another account of a trip we made to the Yunnan province in China. If you have the patience I'm sure you will find the pictures and the story of the people we met as fascinating as Tusheti . We enjoyed taking them.

For the full Yunnan story look at the older posts when it gets exciting.

http://travelsinyunnan.blogspot.com/

Arriving in Tbilisi

On the 25th July 2008 we set out for our return visit. On this occasion we had Georgian friends who were keen to see us return and of course offer more of the renowned Georgian hospitality. Georgia is an expensive five hour flight from the UK and as a result English visitors are a rare commodity and cherished as such. But before we could immerse ourselves in all things Georgian, we had to get there. Moments before our flight took off from Heathrow the flight crew ‘discovered’ two Spanish terrorists on board. After a 1.5-hour delay, the airport police, bristling with arms, escorted what looked like two sheepish but good looking lads off the plane. My wife Melissa swore she saw knives but all I could see was the exceptional scar on one of the chap's face. Now we were ready for our Georgia adventure.

Nino and driving through Tbilisi

On arrival our wonderful friend Nino Simonia pitched up the moment we arrived through customs, brilliant timing. Georgians never waste time if they can be doing something else. So waiting diligently and suffering every moment waiting in a queue is simply an anathema to Georgians, especially Nino who swept us off our feet with the style and grace you would expect from a Parisian. The difference was her car wouldn’t start. Cars are often old in Georgia and invariably held together with string and elastoplast . The memories of their sleek trouble free past are held by previous owners. Never down cast Nino (who bought her car new and remembers better times in Georgia) made a call. Georgians love their mobile phones and I swear they would part with the family silver before they gave up their mobile. The message was the battery in the boot may be the trouble and of course this was correct. With a waggle of the terminal the Mercedes burst into life and we were off.
Melissa started to count the red lights as Nino hurtled through Tbilisi. Traffic signs are for wimps in Georgia and Nino was not about to become one. Traffic simply becomes a soup of cars all desperate to stay in front and prove they are better drivers. If you have driven in the Lebanon, India or parts of Africa and South America and you think you have experienced dreadful driving, think again, Georgians are in a league of their own.
We had only driven through Tbilisi from the airport and already the world was changing before our eyes. The fun part was yet to come.

Nino and a fine Georgian breakfast

Later that morning after a brief sleep Nino prepared a sumptuous breakfast. Unless the table is groaning with fine food a Georgian hosts will not be happy. Never ask for half a slice of cake or a small cup of coffee. Life must be filled to the brim and shared at every opportunity. Well this could be your last meal, until you meet the next generous Georgian soul.
With a hearty meal in our bellies we set off to experience Tbilisi and spend the day soaking up the city. We already knew the Tbilisi well and could afford to pick at the delicate morsels we had grown to love in our previous trip, finishing with the Turkish baths that hark back to the origins of Tbilisi.

Traveling to Tusheti

Our journey to Tusheti was about to begin and I hope the following pictures paint a clear image of this magnificent region in Georgia .I've tried to compile a selection of entries in an attempt to illustrate the key stages of our adventure. If the number of images in some sections appear to be laboured, it's only because I wanted to offer the people featured an opportunity to see their own lives in greater detail.
I've annotated many of the pictures to help place our journey into context and of course explain what was happening at the time. All you need now is the patience and determination to run through my edited collection of images. Have fun , we did.

Street vendors on the road

Tusheti car wash from a small waterfall on the way to the mountain pass

Across yet another river

Driving through last winter's snow and this , can you believe it, was July.

Late July and the road still cuts through snow and rivers

Approaching the pass

A rest stop for a cold beer or amazingly, an exceptionaly cold spring near the pass to Tusheti.

The leaf hat is not mandatory but I get the feeling the stop for a drink is. On occasions there might be half a dozen cars parked up on this spot, with the occupants sharing a few beers and as always the local gossip.

Over the pass

There is no electricity supply to Tusheti so these sentinels act as simple a reminder of better times when Russia provided the electricity and infrastructure for modern life in this remote region.

Here is the daily 6X6 truck making its way back from Tusheti.This monster of a truck inches its way along the track making up to six point turns on some of the bends. If you are tired of Alton Towers (UK funfair) this is the ultimate scary experience.

On our way to Omalo

Having travelled for what seemed an eternity we still had a few hours to go after the pass. The trip from Tbilisi to Shenako (in Tusheti )is about 6 to 8 hours, depending on how often you stop.

Once over the pass into Tusheti the view is magnificent but we still had a significant way to go.

The best thing was not to count the time but to hang on for grim life and enjoy the ride.

There is never a dull moment with every twist and turn of the track leaving you with your stomach in your mouth. The Tush just take this in their stride and treat the road as an everyday journey- as you would going to work. The road is not tarmacked and is often affected by frequent landslides and mountain streams/rivers, so the going is frequently slow and very uneven.

As our 4WD edged us towards the first settlements in Tusheti we found ourselves peering up at tiny villages clinging to the mountainside.During our travels around Tusheti we later to became familiar with these hamlets but our first port of call ,as for so many when they arrive in Tusheti, is Omalo, a wonderful spot cradled by the Caucasus. Sadley the Soviet brutalist influence still lingers on unlike the rest of Tusheti. Upper Omalo is by far my favourite place to stay and only 30 mins climb up the hill from lower Omalo, with some great new guest houses.Travelers to the region often stay briefly in Omalo but only as their first port of call when arriving in Tusheti .

If you are looking for a horse, Omalo is a good place to enquire, although in high season you might need to book in advance. Zora was our horse provider and guide in the summer of 2007 - kindly arranged by Eka . You can see her contact details below the images on the right.

Our first destination' Shenako'

Here is the heart of Tusheti for some - Shenako, with Nino and Zao's homestead centre left, our home for four wonderful days. Nino is one of the finest cooks in Tusheti while Zao is an excellent host but never take him on when drinking Chacha.

Shenako and a view from a terrace looking down on the village.
This assortment of homes (some ruined, some decaying but inhabited, some restored) is one of the most magical places I have ever been to. A community of wonderful souls whose generosity knows no limit.

The following images are an assortment of pictures Melissa and I took over four days during the village festival.

This is Shenako winter village, with only a couple of inhabited houses, the rest abandoned and rapidly becoming ruined. These are the houses the villagers moved to in the winter months of extreme cold and deep snow (the summer village being too exposed to the elements). Only one couple stay all year round now, the rest leave Tusheti in the winter (October - May) and live elsewhere.


My daughters. India on the right and her younger sister Iona on the left. This picture was taken on the track leading into Shenako

The Church in Shenako has recently been renovated .Our friends Eka and Irma's father played an important role as priest and inspiration for the restoration project With his enthusiasm and help from the village the church has been revitalised. We attended a wedding blessing this summer and I have to admit we all cried , it was a moving sight for everyone . Hats off to everyone in Shenako .

I'm not sure where the eventual and all important financial support came from .If anyone has an idea please leave me a comment and I can give them credit in this account.

Another shot of Nino's home and her cow barn. The following pictures are a selection of Nino ,our host at work, with her cows, making cheese and her life in general.












Nino described her kitchen as something out of the last century and I guess she is right. When we I asked for hot water to wash in, Nino had to boil the water over the fire and not simply turn on a hot tap. A very tough life and it made me think twice about needing hot water.

Life in Shenako a selection of images

I hope the following selection of images will give insight into life in Shenako. They are not meant to be a romantic idea of life in Tusheti but life as we observed it on a daily basis. If I've edited out anything that might alter the true picture of life, it's us all getting very drunk on Chacha - local vodka. I'll leave that to your own imagination.

Above is one of the village bread ovens, shared by many families.

Bread making in Tusheti is an essential part of life. Unlike at home where Melissa would make a couple of loaves and freeze some for eating later this lot has got to last the whole week and often shared with neighbours or relatives.


The girls tried hard at milking but it obviously needs a great deal of practice to get as good as Nino and her family ,who made the task appear effortless.


What is it about toilets? When travelling it's what many people from more wealthy countries cringe at. No flushing loo's ,my goodness how could they? Well I'm very fond of this dry toilet, it's right in the middle of the cow field and at night we all had great fun making our way past the cows for a quick pee.

Making Khinkali, a sort of meat dumpling, is as important to Georgians as! Well I was going to say as roast beef and Yorkshire pudding is in the UK but that's an insult to Georgia. Take it from me this is 'the' national dish bar none.

Here's India collecting her water for the day at the sweet well, down by the winter village. When you look into this well there is a trout swimming contentedly. He/she has been put there to eat any frogs or creepy crawlies that might find their way into the well. Who needs technology when you have a fish to do the work?

A Tush saddle. Simple even basic but brilliant for the mountains. No fuss and all you need plus a nice cushion and a good horse .


Nino's parlor and through the door you can see her kitchen. I seem to have made a habit of hitting my head as I went through the door. In 2008 I fell over ( while worse for ware) and broke a rib which didn't help .







This is a picture of the oldest man in Shenako. The house is typical of the Shenako vernacular architecture. We sat opposite each other during part of the festival although he kept falling asleep. A wonderful man and I think he lives in Shenako all year round but I may be wrong.




My very good friend Zao, Nino's husband. A brilliant sportsman, football player and certainly knows how to party. Although neither of us can speak each others language he taught me a great deal about life. A true Tush with a heart of gold.

The girls playing football at dusk against the Shenako boys with Zao on their side. They won. Hooray!



Here is Iona looking out from Nino's old winter house, no longer in use.

The gang.

Elene who is Nino's daughter is on the left. Behind her is Iona in the green. In front with the long hair and glasses is India. Behind India next to Iona is Goggi, our horseman and brother of Elene. Then we have Irma, our very good friend, guide and translator. And finally Carlo who was Goggi's best friend, Irma's cousin and good friends with all the girls. This crew had some amazing times together and experienced a summer never to be forgotten.



Melissa, my wife, in a contemplative moment looking down over Shenako.

The lads after a few, well more than a few Chacha's (local Vodka's).

This house would have been magnificent in it's day . Now it just needs some love to bring it back to life.
Not a very flattering picture of our room. Simple and a place where I slept like a baby.