Travelling time: 10:00 – 17.40  – Distance: 244 miles – Weather: 8 – 14ºC, stair rods of rain

Marvellous monuments in Batumi

Taking our hosts’ advice we set off after the main throb of commuter traffic had subdued at 10.00. It was still pretty congested and hurtled along with high winds and torrential rain to boot. Combined with the aggressive Georgian driving, the mix made for some testing driving conditions.

We took the westerly highway out of the city towards Gori, the birthplace of Stalin, bordering South Ossetia. We had intended to stop at Gori and take a look at Stalin’s house, now a museum – a curious thing to memorialise such a brutal figure. However the weather prevailed and we had to push on through vast amounts of standing water if we were to make it to Batumi before dark.

We glimpsed the Russian base on the border with South Ossetia, a stark reminder of the troubles within Georgia, and noted on the Georgian outskirts the red roofed houses built by the Georgian government for their internally displaced people. There were pockets of these settlements throughout the region, and mapped candidly as Internally Displaced Settlements.

The highway petered out just west of Gori where we took the hill road northwest towards through the wonderfully named Zestaponi to Kutaisi – incredibly this winding single lane road is the only route to the coast and the Black Sea ports. Inevitably it was slow with heavy, long vehicle lorries heading to the coast. The rain continued and as we followed the valley and the spate river visibly filled with the torrents of muddy waters flowing off the hillsides.

The Kvirila River about to burst its banks

A little breezy by the sea!

We’ve made it to the Caspian coast

Reaching the Black Sea (not the Caspian as I have previously written!) coastline the roads were more congested but the rain had eased off so we progressed slowly along the pitted route until Batumi finally came into view on the mist soaked skyline. The sea swelled and the waves crashed into the shore. The sun shone through a break in the heavy grey clouds. We stopped to take in the striking scene and to breathe the sea air. It was invigorating and exciting to have finally made it through the Caucuses.

Batumi was barmy! Not only was the traffic crazy, more extreme forms of Georgian driving were being proudly performed, the actual place is an eccentric but delightful mix of traditional seaside town, thriving ferry port and some expressive architecture both old and new. There was a sense of a real crossroads of cultures and faiths, but overall one of vibrancy and fun. It was just a shame that the weather was so awful – had the sun shone on the cobbles of the old lanes and the colourful night lit monuments had a chance to glow I feel sure it would have had a great holiday feel.

Having pushed on a couple of kilometres through the heavy traffic to try and find a specific brand of diesel (really) that particular branded fuel was no longer at the spot shown on Maps.me (ugh!). Turning around and forging our way back through the traffic we returned to our seafront hotel, suitably named the Admiral – great hotel. I now get the distinct feeling every time we arrive somewhere new that we inspire a sense of amusement among staff and hosts. Glad to bring a smile – albeit a bemused one on occasion! We took ourselves off into the windy night and found a great restaurant with charming staff. The old town clearly has a great café and art culture but I couldn’t help noticing the proliferation of massage parlours with pictures of at the same serene looking Thai lady on every window – what a franchise she has!

Batumi after the storm

This vessel vanished from the harbourside as we had a restorative beer . . . or maybe be two or three