The Grand Hotel Ushba

The Grand Hotel Ushba sits at the base of Ushba Peak. This is a photo of the main building where we had dinner from the deck of our building.

This is our building. We had breakfast al fresco on the balcony.

We usually didn't start our day with the toasts required at all the meals we had in the Caucasus Mountains. But I had to suggest one that morning.

I FOUND MY RING!

It had fallen into the box that I carry my nasal spray in. When the bottle wouldn't come out, I shook it over the bed and in addition to the bottle the ring fell out. I can't tell you how happy I was!

From breakfast we took a walk up the stream cascading down from Ushba Peak. It was a beautiful walk. Along the way were many wildflowers, a church, and a border patrol guy.

The water looked like milk. This is not just the reflection of the sun. The rocks are all white as well and the color of the water comes from the substance the rock is made of.

I can't seem to find the photo of the boarder patrol. He was on horseback with his rifle tucked in the saddle like a cowboy from the old west. His dog trailed faithfully behind him. I must admit that the photo was taken after he had passed us and wasn't looking our way. So, I'm not sure how good it would have been anyway.

After our hike, we took a break to clean up and then headed to our lunch site. This is a little bed and breakfast that caters to the hikers in the summer and skiers in the winter. We did not stay at this inn because it did not have any private baths. However, John Wurdeman wanted us to eat there because the food is so amazing. He wasn't wrong.

The table was set for us. Here's an incomplete list of the cold dishes waiting for us. Two kinds of bread, tomatoes and cucumbers, homemade filtered yogurt, wild garlic salad (they forage for these), thistle salad (also foraged for), roasted salmon trout, trout soaked in lemon juice, cold roasted chicken, chicken legs in walnut sauce, two kinds of homemade cheese, one with mint. Keep in mind that there were only seven of us.

The china our hostess use was the kind you would see at your grandmothers, delicate with flowers.

Then came the hot dishes. Veal ribs, garlic pies, two kinds of meat pies, cheese pies and finally a whole roasted pig that was selected after a trip to three cities including Zogdidi 2 1/2 hours away.

When there wasn't any room on the table for another dish, they simply piled the new offerings on top of the old until our table looked like this.

Then came dessert. Sweet bread, yogurt with homemade plum or wild blueberry jelly, honey from their own hive and Peach ChaCha. Just amazing.

We were all concerned with the overabundance of food prepared. We knew this was a huge expense for this household and they refused to take payment because of their respect for John and all he had done for their area.

John was finally able to convince them to accept enough to cover the cost of the meal. He also learned that the remainder of the food would be used later in the day to feed their guests and to feed many of their neighbors. Anything left on our plates went to their animals and the left overs on the serving plates would be reused. It made all of us feel better.

I wish I had taken a photo of the woman who prepared our meal. Even though we did not speak the same language, she and I had a moment when we were leaving where I tried to express how honored I felt that she had gone to all this trouble to cook authentic Georgian food for us. We both had tears in our eyes.

We left this lovely little inn for a trip to Mestia to visit the museum. Mestia is a town of about 1,000. It has 66 churches with frescoes maintained by the townspeople. Many of the chapels still have regular services with priests. The religion is Georgian Orthodox Christian. One church is 1,000 years old.

Along the way I got a photo of cows in the street. Yay!

These were good cows that hugged the side of the road. However, we regularly had to slow down to let small herds clear out of the way.

 Mestia

The towers were built in the 8th or 9th century. They were attached to each house in the community by a tunnel and used for defense. The animals were herded into the bottom floor. The family took the second floor. And the top floor was used for defense. There are small holes from which arrows could be shot. The towers also served as an emergency exit when the snow would cover the houses below.

Next we visited the museum in Mestia that documents the history of the area which is rich and interesting.

After the museum we had a couple of hours to kill before the next meal and decided to rest along the river. John brought his paint and he painted the scene while I sketched it. His is much better than mine and he agreed to sell the painting to us. We should get in in November when he comes to America for a show of his work.

 This is the view we were trying to capture.

 John's painting that will soon be hanging in our home.

Back in Mestia, we headed for our dinner location. It was in the center of town with a fenced in compound that we pulled the car into. I should mention here that we were in the only Ford Expedition in Georgia complete with a US and Georgian flag in the windshield. The vehicle alone made us stand out.

I didn't take photos at this location because we were in someone's home and because I was unsure of the appropriateness. But, the table was laden with food when we entered and we learned about the importance of the toasts that began and continued throughout all the remainder of our meals in the mountains. The food kept coming until this table too was piled high with delicious traditional Georgian dishes.

Donna and I were the only women allowed to sit at the table with the men. We were instructed by John to participate in the toasts (it would be rude not to). However, we were not to stand as the men stood at each toast.

There is a formal order to the toasts. First a toast to God, next to family, next to honored guests, next to the food we would eat, and then I lost track. But suffice it to say that by the time we had toasted everyone and everything with local wine, local ChaCha and John's wines and ChaCha, my lips were numb. Luckily I learned early in the evening that a sip was the most I could handle. So only my lips were numb not my entire body.

Our entertainment was a male polyphonic choir. Polyphonic music is sung a capella. The leader starts with a tone instead of using a pitch pipe. The songs were sung in Swan. Swan is a dying language with only about 100 people in the world who still speak it. These are the songs that John recorded and his wife is teaching at the music school she runs in their hometown. They also used some traditional instruments to accompany them on occasion and John and his wife are teaching these old traditions to their students as well.

We tried to get a video of the singing but it didn't turn out. Let's just say that if you ever have an opportunity to hear a polyphonic choir, don't pass it up.

It's now midnight and we have another big day tomorrow so we leave after John negotiated a "five more toasts" rule. We exited through the kitchen to thank the women who had worked to hard on our meal and had another touching moment with these women.