Ragnar's World: Go west!

The morning broke when my roomie woke and got up. I laid in bed for half an hour more. Just for good measure. Had been sitting yesterday till late talking to some Israelis that had arrived. One of them stayed in my dorm. He was getting up early to go to Gori.
I got up, trying to figure out where I wanted to go. So many places, so little time. In the end I settled for Borjomi. A small town of around 13000 people in between mountains west of Tblisi. I had my breakfast, payed Dodo and left for Didube. One last ride on the Metro. The Metro was packed. Monday rush. Now the expert on Didube, I walked straight to the "other side" and started looking for Borjomi. Still struggling with the local alphabet, I had to ask in the end. And a guy guided me to a marschrutka (I finally learned the name) that had some local letters on it. "Borjomi!" he said and pointed. The sign on the marschrutka was nowhere near what I was looking for. I realized that nobody was going to Borjomi ONLY. They were going other places. I dropped my bag into the seat and looked at my watch. Some time before it left, so I jogged off to find some snack for the ride. Half an hour later, we were off. For about five minutes. Then we stopped. They were obviously waiting for someone. The driver waving his hands into the air and speaking on the phone. After about 20 minutes, some people arrived and jam-packed the marschrutka. Me crammed up against the wall. Oh well, only 2.5 hours to go...
Many of the guys obviously knew each other. And beers came out. And every half hour, the driver had to stop so they could buy more beer. So after some stops, the spirit were high and so were their voices. I just sat there, drinking my water. Looking at the scenery. And trying to estimate how many near-death experiences I had during the drive.
On our way out of Tblisi, I thought about how they were driving, wondering how many crashed per day. Just as I thought of this, I heard gasping in the car. I looked forward, and one car was sliding around with its rear end smashed into pieces, and the other had a smashed front. He had rear-ended the other car. As we drove past, the guys started laughing and cheering. The only reason our driver slowed down was when he saw a police car. The rest of the trip, he drove like a maniac.
We finished the 2.5 hour drive in just under 2 hours. And suddenly, out of the valley, a small town center appeared. I got off at the bus station, got my gear on my back and headed into town. I had no idea where anything was, so I just strolled along the road, looking for anything resembling a hotel. I passed the suspension-bridge dividing the north and south part of the town. On the other side, I saw a sign for a hotel. I went in and asked the landlady for the price. 80 lari per night. A bit too pricey for el-cheapo me, so I walked on. Outside of the hotel, a guy approached me with a big smile and a stream of words in Russian. Until he realized I didn't understand anything. Then he became a bit more uncertain and stuttered the ten English words he knew.
"You hotel?"
"Yes"
"Aaaaaaa. Cheap!"
"Ok?"
"Aaaaaaa. Home!"
"Ok? Price?"
"Price....aaaa....20 lari!"
"Per night?"
"Aaaaaaa. Yes! Lunch 5 lari! You know after ZZZZZZZ, you lunch!"
"You mean breakfast?"
"Yehehehes!"
Then he started talking to another guy, and they were obviously discussing me. Then the other guy waved his finger in a "no-no" movement. The first guy smiled at me.
"Hehehe. Ok. Eeeeee...No lunch! Problem?"
"No, fine by me!"
"Ok! We go!"
Then they led me into a doorway that looked like it hadn't been painted since Stalin ruled. The up some stairs that were clinging to the walls for their bare life. And then into a large room with three beds. The room was clean. I said "Ok!". The manager changed the beds while he was speaking about the routines and keys and how to turn on the hot water and such. All in perfectly incomprehensible Russian. I just nodded and pretended I understood half of what he was saying. I think the only word I understood was bolsjoi (big). He was talking about which key was for which lock. The big one was for the door to my room.
After I had settled in the room, I pulled out my camera and headed into town again. When walking down the hallway, I passed a kitchen where an older guy sat drinking his beer. I greeted him briefly as I passed. Later I realized that it was the guy who actually lived there with his wife... A true "homestay".
The walk from my ...eee... homestay to the bus station took about 15 minutes. Including stops to take photos. So the town isn't exactly the biggest in this country. But it is a nice little town. With rising mountains dressed in thick forest. It is possible to hike for days from here. But I am not here for hiking. So I think I will just enjoy the relative peace and quiet for a couple of days.
Why Borjomi? This is the home of the "Love-it-or-by-God-this-tastes-like-shait"-mineral water famous throughout the Soviet empire in the old days. It was said to be good for your health. It contains a lot of minerals that gives it a sour-salty taste. I haven't tasted it yet. But come tomorrow, I will go to the Borjomi museum and hopefully, learn some more about it, before I try it.
I tried finding a restaurant or cafe nearby. And I found one next door to my ...eeee... homestay. Down in the cellar. Complete with wet cellar smell. The waitress gave me a menu. Sporting English names for the different courses. My eyes settled on "meat coquettes" and "tried potatoes". I wondered who had tried the potatoes. But gave it a go. Then she asked "Bread?". I thought "why not" and nodded. A few minutes later she came walking with a mountain of bread on a plate. I thought "Oh crap. I hope that is for the family sitting behind me." It was for me. I looked at the mountain a bit disheartened and hoped the rest of the meal was in smaller portions. It was.
A delicious meal consisting of some cigar-shaped minced meat with lots of spices, and a side dish of "tried" potatoes. I was full. And so was the plate with bread. I left it. I signalled the waitress for the bill. She came with a torn off piece of paper with the number 12 written on it. I gave her a 20-lari note. She left the restaurant to get change. After she came back, I left a 2 lari tip and the restaurant. Back at the hotel I took off my sandals and discovered why it was so painful to walk. I big blister had burst and was now bleeding... Some bandaid fixed that.
Here are some pictures from todays walk through Borjomi. Enjoy!