Traveling without any plans and frames are beautiful because at any moment you can take yourself off wherever you want!
We also went on the opposite side. Telling truth, not without anxiety. There are always some worries within, when you're crossing border, moreover, when you have to do it in such unexpected places, where foreigners look like aborigines (especially Sasha who has belarusian passport).
We easily passed georgian point, but on azerbaijani one we had a little troubles, and not because of Sasha, what we'd worried about, but me.
Can't certainly tell, what guardians' wary talks were caused by (I don't look like armenian, do I?), but I had to worry a bit before I could finally pass thru.
Azerbaijani side turned up even more lively. Only we went out, and we were literally attacked by currency dealers, ready to change our laris to local manats. That's what we did, cause anyway we needed money and here it was possible to reduce the price.
Hard to tell, who are more here: currency dealers or drivers. Last ones are ready to take you wherever you want, just be ready to pay.
So trip to the closest Gazakh town costs about 10 manats, but we prefered to take the bus right to Baku for 20 manats.
Well, decided... I left her with no choice and got on the bus, while she, a bit lost, was looking around. A long 10 hours way were ahead. The way thru Shamkir, Ganja, Yevlakh, by rare villages with fancy houses, by fortresses, by fields with lonely watchtowers. From time to time the bus stopped off to refuel somewhere among azerbaijani steppe.
At one of such stops something, what conquered our heart, happened. A vendor got onto, his bag was full of hot patties. Will take? Do you want? I don't know... I'd like to eat... Hm... Just Sasha decided and rise a hand, and the vendor got off the bus. He just didn't notice her, but a guy from the front seat did. He jumped off the started howling bus and instantly came back.
Guy was holding a pack of patties in his hand. He handed it to us, but we, confused, had no idea, what to say.
"How much?" - asked I, but guy just shook his head - keep the money - and sat back on the seat. I and Sasha glanced at each other and unwrap the pack of hot oily patties with cilantro.
That's how, right on the route from the Red Bridge to Baku, our meeting with Azerbaijan and amazing people, who lives here, had begun.
In the next post we'll finally come to Baku.
Waking up in the morning, you suddenly realize, that's exactly today is the best time to travel to another city or even to another country! You drink up a cup of bracing coffee, pack a bag up and go on a journey, and nothing can't hold you. Isn't that the real freedom?
Day V. The Red Bridge
You know, probably, in that day, I felt this freemod for real. We woke up about 10-11 am and didn't have any plans. Lots of money, plenties of uncertain ideas: we may go to Kakheti or Svaneti, may take one more walk thru Tbilisi or may...
Berika'd gone to work in the early morning and left us the message: I've taken keys, so if you have any plans to go, just left the door open (yeah-yeah, we even asked him: "sure?", but he assured us, it's okay), and at the end added: if you want to eat there are some sausages, khachapuri and a bit of wine in a fridge. Honestly, I don't know, what suprprised me most. It's not easy to get used to this hospitality, should I? I like to be plesently surprised everytime and, by the way, to surprise...
Sasha still had no idea, what came up on my mind this time. You know, there are some weird people, who thinks something of in their head and will drag others somewhere, explaining nothing. So I'm one of them.
This time, in a hurry we finished our tea, packed backpacks and went right away to a bus station. "Sasha, wait, I'll tell you later", - was telling I to my friend during the way, occasionally hurrying her.
Tbilisi still remembered the last nigt storm; streers were littered with torn off leaves, and small puddles were living out its last hours under the heating Sun. But neither puddles, nor leaves, nor anything couldn't stop me: we were directly going to the station and Sasha's still demanding for explanations.
"Here it is!" - said I. "When you're going? In thirty minutes? Okay."
Well, right here I had to explain, what was the Red Bridge on a destination sign and why it was written not by georgian letters.
We took our seats, the van was being filled up with people who were talking in some unknow language. They brought a bunch of bags with food, goods and even diapers, what took all the seats.
With a ten-minute delay the van got going. Winding and hilly road was taking us away from Tbilisi to the south-east of the country in very other - burnt by the Sun - Georgia. We were sitting near a window and looking at sceneries, other passengers were loudly talking, and low stools, what'd been hiding under the seats, were thunderingly rolling thru the cabin at every sharp turn.
Bridge across a river's already been here since XII-th century, but present one was built in XVII-th and till very 1998-th year it'd been conected two absolutely diff. countries: Georgia and Azerbaijan.
One time the huge market had been on the georgian side, what was closed in 2006-th year, and looking at amount of vans here, it'd been really popular.
Whole crowd already had been gathered before the crossing border point: people with huge bags, fulled up backpacks and boxes with cherries and berries'd been coming here from the nearest towns: Rustavi and Marneuli. As it turned out, prices in Azerbaijan are much higher, and those, who lives in close to border lands, quite often go shopping on the georgian side, and after coming back on the other bank of the river.
We also went on the opposite side. Telling truth, not without anxiety. There are always some worries within, when you're crossing border, moreover, when you have to do it in such unexpected places, where foreigners look like aborigines (especially Sasha who has belarusian passport).
Can't certainly tell, what guardians' wary talks were caused by (I don't look like armenian, do I?), but I had to worry a bit before I could finally pass thru.
Azerbaijani side turned up even more lively. Only we went out, and we were literally attacked by currency dealers, ready to change our laris to local manats. That's what we did, cause anyway we needed money and here it was possible to reduce the price.
Hard to tell, who are more here: currency dealers or drivers. Last ones are ready to take you wherever you want, just be ready to pay.
So trip to the closest Gazakh town costs about 10 manats, but we prefered to take the bus right to Baku for 20 manats.
Well, decided... I left her with no choice and got on the bus, while she, a bit lost, was looking around. A long 10 hours way were ahead. The way thru Shamkir, Ganja, Yevlakh, by rare villages with fancy houses, by fortresses, by fields with lonely watchtowers. From time to time the bus stopped off to refuel somewhere among azerbaijani steppe.
At one of such stops something, what conquered our heart, happened. A vendor got onto, his bag was full of hot patties. Will take? Do you want? I don't know... I'd like to eat... Hm... Just Sasha decided and rise a hand, and the vendor got off the bus. He just didn't notice her, but a guy from the front seat did. He jumped off the started howling bus and instantly came back.
Guy was holding a pack of patties in his hand. He handed it to us, but we, confused, had no idea, what to say.
"How much?" - asked I, but guy just shook his head - keep the money - and sat back on the seat. I and Sasha glanced at each other and unwrap the pack of hot oily patties with cilantro.
That's how, right on the route from the Red Bridge to Baku, our meeting with Azerbaijan and amazing people, who lives here, had begun.
In the next post we'll finally come to Baku.
0 comments:
Post a Comment