Svaneti: The Western Frontier

Last week the travel family took advantage of the Independence Day holiday to take a trip to Svaneti.  Svaneti is a region in northwestern Georgia that has remained fairly isolated due to the fact that it is very difficult to get to in good weather and damn near impossible in bad weather.  This strategic location has more or less kept out the numerous conquerors that have come through Georgia.  Even the Soviets had a hard time maintaining rule over the Svans.  Because of this Svans have preserved a very traditional lifestyle and even today they are culturally distinct from other Georgians and are known for being a bit rougher and rowdier.  That being said, every Georgian I met said: "oh Svaneti is beautiful, you will love it!"  followed by: "it will be very cold, bring many clothes." 

So I packed my bag full of sweaters and my winter coat and left the balmy weather of Gori in pursuit of the western frontier.  Svaneti, it was indeed extremely beautiful.  But it was also very warm.  We all packed warm weather clothes but ended up with rosey sunburns while we walked around in our lightest of clothes.  

Netty and I met up with Andy and we boarded the overnight train to Zugdidi.  Mallory, Rob and Justin boarded the same train in Tbilisi and were just a few cars down from us.  We had very inexpensive, but very comfortable accommodations.  However, our bunk-mate, a young Georgian man, was intent on marrying Netty.  Fortunately his energy petered out early and he fell asleep mid-proposal.  After a few bumps, and a few snoring neighbors, we arrived in Zugdidi around 6:30am.  We quickly made our way to a cafe to fill up on coffee and wait for our friend Chris.  He eventually showed up and we made our way to the marshutka stand where we would board a crowded bus for a 4 hours drive up through the mountains.  However, due to road construction we had more than a few elongated stops, many bumps and plenty of steep curves.  It's times like this I am grateful for my sturdy stomach, many of my fellow travelers were not so blessed.  We eventually arrived at our homestay in Mestia  in the early afternoon.  The boys, who are all living in villages, were ecstatic about the shower provided to us.  It had hot water and everything! 

We headed in to town to look at the Svan towers that dotted the landscape of Mestia.  These towers are pretty amazing.  They are handed down through generations and remain only within the family's ownership.  In the good ol' days blood feuds were common and a method of taking over a tower was to kill everyone in the family.  The towers are still standing today and the families have built their homes around the structures.  After an evening out in downtown Mestia, which consisted of eating Svan food and walking around taking pictures of the towers, we headed back for showers and homemade black wine (courtesy of Mallory's neighbors).

Svan Tower

The next day we decided to go horseback riding.  I don't know why.  Nobody was especially excited about this prospect and I was downright terrified.  But I do believe the phrase "what else is there to do?" was used in this decision-making process.   Unfortunately, as beautiful as Mestia is, there is not all that much to do.  Horseback riding it was...

Let's take a moment here to recap my failed career as a cowgirl.  Around the age of 8 I was convinced that I was going to learn how to ride horses and embark on epic journeys around the wild west, also known as the greater Wasatch mountains of Utah.  My parents will eagerly laugh (hysterically no less) and tell you how quickly this ridiculous idea was truncated.  I believe that I completed 3 lessons out of 8.  It turns out I was terrified of horses.  They are big.  They are smart.  And they know that they are smarter than you and therefore do whatever they please while you shriek in terror gripping the reigns and pray that you remain attached to the saddle.  I have never learned to ride faster than a trot.  We'll leave it at that.

...So twenty years later here I am staring down a horse.  While I stared at her big brown eyes I reminded myself about the Georgian medical system and that terrifying/ comical doctor's visit to see if I had strep throat.  Silly me, there aren't hospitals in Mestia anyway.  I took a deep breath and mounted my chosen horse.  I wouldn't say she was a pony, but she was definitely petite compared to the horses I rode back in my cowgirl heyday.  However, size is no issue when it comes to brainpower, once again this horse was smarter than me.  Once I was back in the saddle so to say, my horse and Rob's horse took off at a brisk walk, leaving the others and our guide behind.  However, unlike my horse, Rob's did not have a strong sense of where to go.  His horse took wrong turn which resulted in him being unable to steer her back and yadda yadda yadda, the guide took the reigns from him.  When I saw that the guide wasn't too concerned about where my horse was taking me, I settled into my role as the lead and happily rode along, forgetting my terror as I greeted every passing Svan with an enthusiastic "Gamarjoba!"   They all pretty much laughed and waved to me.  One woman told me "well-done!" in Russian. 

Horseback riding

My horse did not respond to being told to stop.  When I would tug on the reigns she would turn her head nip at my ankles.  My solution was to steer her in the opposite direction.  Since she was A) smarter than me, and B) stubborn (not unlike her passenger), she would refuse to move in the opposite direction.  Therefore this attempt to resulted in her stopping for a few moments.  However, she quickly figured out my plan and towards the end would basically do a 360 degree turn and continue on her way, no matter how far ahead of everyone else we were. 

We followed the road through town, past the airport, to where the road ended and the open fields began.  At this point many of was lost control of our horses.  My horse turned into a brat -- a smart brat -- who was determined to eat grass and not move or walk me into tree branches.  At one point someone said "Manuela, you are going the wrong way!"  I responded with "Yes, I know! She doesn't care!"

This portion of the excursion surely wore down our poor guide, who was alternately chasing after us who were being led astray or forcing our immobile grass-eaters to move.  Once we were back on the road, my horse led me right back to our homestay.  I found this impressive since she doesn't live there.  But her owner, a young Svan boy, was there waiting for her and she clearly knew this.  Turns out she isn't just stubborn, but also a bit fickle about the company she keeps.

Our little jaunt resulted in some comical sunburns and severe saddle sores.  We waddled to town for dinner and then called it a night. The next day we took it easy and went to the local museum which has an interesting collection of archaeological artifacts, old manuscripts, and vintage photos.  Afterward, Mallory and I headed back to drink beer and chat while everyone else went on a hike.  This was a very early night since we had to get up for our 5am marshutka ride.    

Sunrise in Mestia

Our journey back from Svaneti was just as bumpy and complicated as the journey there, and at times very uncomfortable.  However, it was well worth the effort and time involved getting there.  Even if there isn't actually much to do there, it is still a breathtakingly beautiful place to visit.

Wish you were here!