Tsminda Sameba (Kazbegi, Georgia)

June 12^th, 2010 - About ten miles from the Russian border north of Tbilisi along the Georgian Military Highway you will find the mountain village of Kazbegi (1,850 meters/6070 feet). Nestled in a valley along the banks of the Tergi River in the shadow of Mt. Kazbegi it would be a bit negligent to describe the scene as picturesque for a single word cannot do it justice. 'Quintessential Georgian mountain village' gets closer to the mark although I have a feeling Kazbegi is merely the tip of the iceberg in that regard. 

I only spent a night there but feel I must return as there is much to see and do in the area. My friends and I slept at a home stay owned and run by a woman named Nazi and her husband. That's right: Nazi. The transliteration from Georgian is a bit unfortunate as her name is pronounced Nahzzeee and has absolutely nothing to do with Hitler's political party. Nazi is not a Nazi. In fact she is anything but. She is exceptionally friendly and truly makes anyone that spends time at her place feel like they are at home. Also, there were a number of Israelis staying there sooooo….

Perched on a hill above Kazbegi on the lower slope of Mt. Kazbegi sits, you guessed it, a church. It is the Church of Tsminda Sameba (Holy Trinity) to be precise. Dating to the 14^th century many folks view this church as a symbol of Georgia itself for it stands proudly (if not autochthonously as one guide book puts it) atop the hill, its silhouette a beacon of Georgian religious fervor and devotion. It is believed that in times of danger sacred artifacts were sequestered here for safe keeping.

Return to Kazbegi (Kazbegi, Georgia)

June 6^th, 2010 - Go to Google.com. Type 'Where is Chuck Norris' in the search box and then click 'I'm Feeling Lucky'. I rarely return to places I have previously visited (too much to see) but in the case of Kazbegi it was necessary to make an exception, especially since my first visit was for only one night. It was a wise decision. The weather in Tbilisi is mildly oppressive currently so the fresh mountain air was most welcome.

I hitched a ride with some folks I met online (Couchsurfing.com). I had intended to spend at least a week with them but altered my plan when I realized they only intended to remain in Kazbegi for one night. Not again. We parted ways after the first night. So much for the Iranian-Spanish-American Joint Operation. Maybe next country.

I found myself walking once again to the Tsminda Sameba (The Holy Trinity) Church on the lower slopes of Mt. Kazbek. The stunning nature of this story book setting cannot be overstated but it hardly justifies the 1.2 billion shots I took of the church and its surroundings. I was ready to sign up for a twelve step program.

Three Belgians & A Yankee (Slopes of Mt. Kazbek, Georgia)

June 29^th, 2010 - A little over two weeks ago I had the pleasure of visiting the town of Gori in Georgia, the birthplace of Russia's most infamous leader (See “Little Joey Stalin”). Anyone visiting would no doubt be struck by the existence of a 20 foot statute of Joseph Stalin situated, appropriately, in Stalin Square. Or should I say 'would have been struck'. Joey got the boot (Actually, they used cables, one around the neck, another through the armpit).

Under cover of darkness the authorities uprooted Mr. Stalin, threw his communist ass on the back of a flatbed truck, and drove off into the night (Georgia Knocks Stalin Off His Pedestal). Later, alligator. Might want to go ahead and rename the square in order to complete the circle.

I was fortunate enough to meet three gentlemen from Belgium in the village of Kazbegi interested in a hike part way up Mt. Kazbek (5047 m, 16655 ft). Our destination was either the beginning of the glacier or, weather permitting, Betlemi Hut, a former meteorological station. Ideally, I would have preferred to make my way to the summit but seeing as this is a three or four day affair and requires the use of ropes I had to content myself with half-assing it. 

The myths and legends associated with this extinct volcano are as thick as the mist we encountered on the way. It seems the cave not far from Betlemi Hut was the prison of choice for Amirani (Georgia's version of Prometheus) the insolent son of a goddess that had the audacity to share fire with mere mortals. The cave is also reputed to have housed the tomb of Christ, Christ's manger, Abraham's tent, a golden cradle, a monkey paw, Merlin's cap, and Excalibur (I may have added the last three out of a childish sense of blasphemy). Apparently, only the pure of heart are permitted to view these objects while all others that attempt to do so perish or go blind. Since I have no desire to do either I decided to postpone my cave visit for a few years. I figure by then I'll have had a chance to purify myself through pain.

Go Frolic Yourself (Kazbegi, Georgia)

July 2^nd, 2010 - The day after my jaunt up Mt. Kazbegi the weather took a turn for the worst. It rained most of the day. I was forced to retreat into an extended slumber. I did manage to rise long enough for lunch but soon returned to the comfort of my bed. The combination of the rain and cool weather was a lullaby I was powerless to resist. I submitted willfully. The homestay at which I found myself was run by a woman and her younger daughter. Both were warm and friendly. Smiles were abundant.

My room was also occupied by an older Georgian gentleman whose purpose befuddled me a bit. He showed up, got into bed, and remained there for the better part of two days. Not that I was in any position to criticize considering my own penchant for napping but still. It was a teensy bit strange. Different strokes. It could have been worse I suppose. He could have suggested we spoon.

The next day I explored the area directly behind the village to the east. From afar it looked like the ideal place to frolic my balls off. My instincts were correct. As I climbed the hill closer to the sheer rock face towering over the scene I was presented with a light forest, picturesque in the extreme (dare I say smurfy?) and intermixed with sea after sea of grass and wildflowers. It made me want to do my Little House On the Prairie a la Laura Ingalls impression (if you appreciate this reference you might be a loser). Yodeling would not have been out of the question. If only I knew how.