Part of the reason I’m in this part of the world right now is because of a joke, and admittedly it’s barely a joke. I went on a bender (of sorts) for music last September. I had select songs from the Spotify Soul Playlist saved on my phone, a disproportionate amount of which happened to feature a certain US state in their lyrics. Fast forward to the middle of October, and I suddenly found myself with two weeks off before starting a new job…
Gladys Knight’s best known song eulogizes the failed career of a small town kid with big dreams to make it in a big city. In the wake of failure, this kid hitches a ride on a midnight train, to Georgia which is presumably his home. In my eyes this song is a mean spirited farewell as Gladys makes no attempt to veil her pleasure of this kid’s misfortune – in videos of performances her backup singers include a snarky goodbye wave to their dance as if to say see ya later sucka!
For what it’s worth, there are few parallels between my life and the protagonist of Midnight Train to Georgia. For instance, I’m not even in the right Georgia and to make matters worse I already have a return ticket to New York.
I took a mid-afternoon flight from JFK (with a layover in Moscow) via Aeroflot, which I’m not super high on. Seats were cramped (as in worse than AirAsia). And the flight was jam packed with a cohort of Williamsburg Orthodox Jews (as in 100+) which was totally fine but I found it odd when a mass exodus occurred right around sun down when they piled into the aisles, bathrooms, and exit rows to pray for the duration of the eight hour flight. This was coincidentally right in the middle of drink service and the Russian flight attendents rolled their eyes as if this wasn’t the first time witnessing such an ordeal. My single serving flight buddy Al from Lithuania watched in quiet amazement.
My favorite part of Aeroflot was the ice cream, which was strategically served at a point in the flight where everyone on board was asleep. Al woke from deep slumber as if on cue, and we discussed why I was heading to Georgia over a delicious frozen snack.
Now I mostly fed Al boilerplate about my reasons for wanting to visit the Caucasus as I did not want to admit to a complete stranger that my transatlantic journey was predicated by a heavy dosage of Gladys Knight. It also wasn’t clear to me if he would know that I knew that the song is referencing a different Georgia. So I just gave some bullshit answer that I had time off and wanted to see a new part of the world, and that I was super into trekking and was going to hike the Caucasus.
There’s truth in the bullshit that I said though. There wasn’t a whole lot that I knew about the Caucasus region even leading up to the moment when I pulled the trigger on the airfare. I just knew it was an ex-Soviet state straddling Russia and the Middle East, so therefore it was likely less overrun with tourists than popular destinations in Western Europe. For all I knew, the entire country of Georgia was stuck in a weird stasis of a botched Y2K transition plan where Shrek was still being played in theaters, and Madonna was still dominating the billboards.
My first knowledge of the existance of Georgia was during middle school geography class, where I somehow managed to spell Tbilisi correctly (back then most atlasses went with the T’bilisi spelling). Shortly afterwards, I came across a Tom Clancy Novel where this spy from Azerbaijan skinned another spy from the States alive (sort of like those damn Boltons from GOT I suppose) which really creeped me out for a few days afterwards.
I can’t speak for Azerbaijan but Georgia is a perfectly safe place. After all, the soviet era metro is entrenched so deep beneath the city that it doubles as a fallout shelter. Well hold on, on the subject of safety, there’s probably a few caveats worth mentioning.
Smoking appears to be the de facto hobby of Georgians, and this is coming from someone who’s been to East Asia a handful of times. Bus drivers will smoke while operating busses, patrons at bars and restaurants will smoke indoors. I’m no doctor but I’m pretty sure cigarettes and second hand smoke kill.
Food (and alcohol) is dirt cheap here. Local cuisine is high in carbs and fats, if your name isn’t already Andy Reid, you’re likely going home with a couple bonus LDL points.
Driving is risky business here in Georgia. Especially around this time of year, shepherds and cattle herders begin migrating their livestock down from the mountains into the more temperate lowlands. So you may find yourself either stuck in traffic or ambushed due to an animal crossing.
Even if you don’t drive, your driver won’t exactly inspire confidence. If you get into one of the shared mashtrutkas your driver might plow into a sheep herd anyways, or drive recklessly around a mountain ridge with a conservative amount of braking. You should probably just enjoy the ride and not dwell on the likelihood of your survival.
Hiking can get pretty dangerous as well. At high altitudes trails can get really cold and windy and climbs can get steep quickly. Many of the treks in the Greater Caucasuses are not heavily frequented by fellow hikers so if something goes awry things may become problematic. Amazingly enough, I had service during most of my hike to the Gergeti Glacier.
Mt. Kazbek, on the border of Georgia and Russia is a potentially active volcano. I ascended 1600 meters to glance at one of the glaciers on the Georgian side, and observed a bunch of volcanic rocks from ancient pyroclastic flows, as well as fault lines. The region is geologically active, slopes are scarred with fault lines, however tremors rarely exceed or approach a magnitude of 4.0.
Georgia is an incredible place, in a reach of the globe that few are familiar with. The vine-like alphabet is totally alien to an uncultured American like me. Culture is distinct from the rest of Europe, yet also influenced by periods of Persian and Russian dominance, while Silk Road connections have streamed Asian and Arabian influence as well. Most modern Georgians self-identify as European, many citing their Christianity as evidence to such a claim. Labeling them as Asian or Eurasian can be a contentious debate despite laying directly south of the Caucasus Range - historically the southern border of Europe.
For off-track travelers Georgia doesn’t receive nearly as many visitors or have any instantly recognizable landmarks (yet) like a Paris, London, or Rome which is a blessing in some way. When I told my dad I was going to Georgia, the first words out of his mouth were Why are you going to a communist country? For the record, Georgia is not a communist country anymore.
If you were expecting Georgia/Caucasus tips this isn’t really a travel blog. It’s more like a shitty photography stream randomly littered into somehow even shittier, mostly irrelevant commentary. If you fancy looking at pictures of rapidly cooling Georgian cuisine go on instagram #georgia, or watch a few episodes of that alcoholic chef on CNN.
Well this joke’s over now; I’m still somewhere in Georgia.