woensdag 29 juli 2009

simsalabim and the story of the blue-eyed blond girl

For twenty six (twenty six!) hours I was in a train, a partly air conditioned trip. From Ankara till Erzurum the train stops only three times and the landscape stays the same: yellow hills, no houses, no people. For twenty six hours. However, it seemed that a small village had arisen in the train, people were sharing food, drinking raki, kids were playing in the hallway and a train compartment further you could enjoy the kitchen of a genuine restaurant. The first part of my trip I had the pleasure of the company of a turkish mother and her 4 year old boy who had broken his leg: Mohamed. And being on the train for 6 hours can be boring when you are 4 years old, but with broken leg even more, so he enjoyed the foreigner effect and was trying to get my attention non-stop :). But young boys get tired too and after we shared some food together (they gave my bread, I gave them grapes) he fell asleep, and so did I. When I woke up another girl and a young boy had joined, apparently it was the mothers niece and the niece's child. In the evening they all got off the train and I had the couchette for myself, until 10 o'clock when I got worried they did not get on the train to travel, but to move: the couchette was stuffed with huge plastic bags and after a while a young lady and her grandfather joined. The fact that a man joined a women couchette turned out to be somewhat of a problem when the conductor came to check the tickets. But when I make clear in my unbelievable good Turkish (I only know merhaba and found out that yolk problem means something as no problem) the trip continued. After the grandfathers evening prayers we decided to have some sleep and the next early morning the grandfather and young lady left the train, with all their stuff. For 8 more hours I was on the train and I decided to have some breakfast at the restaurant. To be a foreigner going to East-Turkey is already an interesting fact for most turkish travelers, but a blond girl might be even more. There were no people at the restaurant, just the waiter and the cook, who desperately tried to talk to me, but they didn't know english or german, and as I said before, my turkish consists of two words. When the guard came to join us for a turkish coffee and also the conductor thought it was a good idea to have a rest at the restaurant I had the time to enjoy my breakfast :). Though one comment has to be made here: why carrying a AK-56 as a guard in a train, how can that be a usefull weapon IN a train?
I got off the train in Erzurum where I hoped to get a minibus straight to Hopa, near the Georgian border, but when i got at the bus station they told me it would go at 6 o'clock in the evening, meaning I would have to spend 5 hours in Erzurum; with too much luggage and a twenty six hours traveling, Erzurum just is a place where you don't want to spend 5 hours. I got my map, showed the ticket salesmen I wanted to go to hopa, even if that meant transferring buses and he sold me a too expensive ticket to yusufeli. In a stuffed mini-bus we left for the Georgian valleys, as this region is called since Georgia ruled over it in the 10th century. Twirling roads, splendid views, waterfalls, giant rocky mountains and 3 hours later we arrived in Yusufeli where I transfered to Arstvin. A bit broken and definately tired I wanted to get as soon as possible to Georgia, which really didn't make any sense, since I had no plan whatsoever to be doing when crossing the border at Sarpi, especially not since I would arrive late in the evening so I would have to find a hotel in Batumi at twelve o'clock in the night. But I had decided it, and I am a stubborn girl, so I had to get to the border. However, arriving in Arstvin they told me no bus would go there anymore. It was the first time of my trip I was so frustrated that I almost started to cry (I still am a girl) and when they saw my moisty eyes and my desperately look they told me they could bring me for a louzy 50 euro's, which again was way too much, but I accepted it. Being stubborn...
They dropped me off at the border and I still had no plan. The trucks were waiting impatiently to cross the border, but a blue-eyed blond girl always gets first in line, and that's how it happened i noticed a mini-bus that said: Tiflis (Tbilisi). I just asked the first man I thought belonging to the mini-bus if it would really go to tbilisi. And when he said yes and that I could join I was incredibly relieved and happy, not realizing what kind of trip it would be. After one and a half hour everybody from the minibus had crossed the border and we left, finally, i thought. And even before the mini-bus drove away, they turned on their sound-system. And what a sound-system it was. I guess from that point on it was clear it would be one loud night, and so it was. Not to mention the amount of stops we made to drop things of, or to take stuff in. And ofcourse, as proper Georgians, when you travel you need to stop somewhere to eat. As I was hungry myself, I kind of liked the idea of eating, sitting at the table with the drivers eating my very first khatchapuri (unfortunately they didn't have the Adjaruli Khatchapuri, but the Imeruli was fine for the moment too).
Arriving early in the morning at Ian's, my British friend living in Georgia, I could only sleep, traveling non-stop for 45 hours sure makes a blue-eyed blond girl a bit tired.

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