Kudos, freedom, tourists, Georgia, Black Sea shores

View of Tbilisi capital of George on the border of Europe and Asia. PHOTO NET

It is a strange year so far. I am not used to being given instructions to stay home, not meet people or not travel. Sort of a prison, but then, if the body can be imprisoned, the mind cannot be restrained. My mind is catching up with some fond memories of extensive travels for more than four decades.

Last year, we travelled to Georgia and from the moment we crossed the Turkish border entering the Georgian town of Batumi, I was unhappy.

The taxi drivers, seeing that we are tourists were over charging us but my husband who had travelled there before, would have none of it.

After a long wait we finally reached our hotel and went for a walk along the Black Sea shores. I thought the name Black Sea was just a name the Greeks gave to this sea because it was difficult to navigate. However, reality is that the sea is black, at least that is what I saw. With my love for blue and emerald waters, this sea was very sad.

We were planning to go by train to the capital Tbilisi, but the trains were full for a couple of days. So, we went by mini bus, my least favourite mode of transport. I have severe motion sickness and have to either drive or sit in the front seat. The mini bus was the only option as big buses have their front seats booked in advance.

Tbilisi is a beautiful city, its old part is somehow merged with the new part, but after the first day of walking around the city, there was not much left to visit.

Georgian food is my least favourite, and as the culinary experience is an important part of any trip, this did not impress me. Things were not any better when we were faced with some rough attitudes in their service industry, lack of communication skills and knowledge of English.

Thinking about it now, I see what I missed in terms of positive points; the drinking water in Georgia is the most delicious and refreshing I had in my life.

Even the soft and fizzy drinks they made, were the best, and on the third day a taxi driver with a good command of English, took us for a tour outside the city. He also explained to us that this country is just opening to mass tourism, and that we cannot compare them with their Turkish neighbours who have now mastered the art of pleasing tourists.

Rewinding memories always starts with comparisons, good and bad, ups and downs. But if the lockdown has taught me anything, it would be that there should be no comparisons. Even in the worst situations, freedom of movement is the best gift to humanity.