Bike - not luxury but a means of transportation on the world (ending, p.5) The next stop was the town of Gori, birthplace of Joseph Stalin. In Gori, there is a museum dedicated to Stalin, which is pretty one-sided displays his personality: he basically talks about the role of Stalin in the Russian revolution and its leadership during the Second World War, much less attention paid to the gulag, his treaty with Hitler, famine, murder Trotsky, the postwar division of Poland, etc. I personally know of only two known throughout the world the children of Georgia - this Stalin and Georgi Kinkladze (known in the past, Georgian footballer, approx. Perevi.). Two outstanding talent, two evil genius, who, each in its own way, will always be remembered for what they are dominated by the left - one on the football field, the other - in politics. Yet another famous Georgians, whose names, however, is not so important, should act at the Eurovision contest this year. The contest was held in Moscow, relations between Moscow and Tbilisi have already been corrupted, and the Georgian team wanted to speak with the song "Work and shut up" (in English name of the song sounds like "Put In, Shat Up"). It was politically unwise, creative protest, based on a play on words. Tbilisi at night in Tbilisi, the capital of Georgia, I arrived very late on schedule. It must be acknowledged that this schedule I imposed myself, though I were outside the time constraints in the form of an entry visa to Kazakhstan and various other "mills." Tbilisi, inter alia, also known for its ancient sulfur baths. Get there a few extra miles, I figured I deserved massage, bath and all that is to be attached. I decided to go to public bath (men only), which cost is not as expensive as private. When I went inside to the main pool with a steaming gray I spent a fat hairy guy in shorts. He told me, waving his finger, that the clothes in the bath is not needed. I pulled my truselya and jumped into the warm water, which is the smell very much like rotten eggs, which leads to certain reflections. Meanwhile, the little man soaping marble table, on which he was going to do me a body scrub. Few otmoknuv, I lay down on the table, face down, and the man put on his gloves lathered and sat on my back. I'm more confused, not because I mylil back a man, but on how much dirt he was able to scrape off my body. When you have finished scraping the mud, he began to make me a massage, which lasted 10 minutes. This thug, of course, skillfully used his hairy ruchischami. Do not even remember the last time I was so clean and fresh. It is true that from me a couple of days flying the rancid eggs. Well, every day is not Sunday. The building of sulfur baths in Tbilisi, I sat on the bus and went to town Kazbegi, which is high in the mountains. There I decided to relax a bit from the bike and walk on foot. Already before the city bus driver made a sudden the brakes so that even the bus lurched (not the first time, I must say). Then came the thud. We all jumped off the bus and saw a pig hobbled to the side of the road and fell there. Soon appeared angry farmer who attacked the driver. Outcry in the air flashed his fists, but very soon all the nervousness quickly evaporated. Going for a walk in the mountains, I decided to follow the advice of so-called experts, who insisted that I wore a pair of hard shoes, but my rubber flip-flops "thongs" I still brought with him. In two hours walking in these so-called reliable shoes I erased all the legs in corn, so I had to wear a more traditional footwear. I have no idea why everyone does not want to walk through the mountains in sandals. Of course, I occasionally thumped his fingers against the rocks, slipped on the ice and comes with thin soles on the sharp rocks, but if you do not pay attention to it, no shoes better. "Buy better shoes!" - You might say. "Want it for me, we walked around the world?" - I answer. Walk through the mountains the next morning on my way home I visited several wineries and a monastery. Over the past few weeks I have seen so many churches and monasteries that would be enough for a lifetime. Not least I have met people who are struggling with prejudice. From the monastery Nekresi linked one curious story. It sits high on a mountainside and is located next to the castle. When many centuries ago, here came the Persians, the conquerors, stones and arrows were powerless before their power. And then in a desperate attempt to somehow delay their promotion advocates started to throw them in the pork chops. The attackers were Muslims and regarded it as a sign from above to begin a retreat. In honor of those events the locals regularly sacrificed pigs. Immediately skewer them on a skewer. Mumps just breathed his last squeal when I got to the place of sacrifice. (I even have pictures, but I do not think that you might want to look at them). Kazbek At first I thought: "How awful! Disgusting! "And then he decided:" Give me a pound of fresh pork, please! "We bought a huge piece of meat for barbecue, and our driver took us to the house of his sister in an impromptu picnic, during which the important role played by the barrel of homemade wine. He also was more visionary than I am, noting that the guest house stopped several Israelis who were very upset that we brought home the bacon. Fellow-cyclist Yes, it was a difficult few days for the entire population of local pigs. This piggy went to market, this pig stayed at home. This pig had their throats cut, and this pig has moved the bus. And this pig will be the last pig, meat, which I will try in the next few months, because I go to a country where pigs do not give offense. The church in the mountains this holiday in some degree united my most vivid memories of Georgia: an obsession with the hospitality, the endless succession of toasts, the church placed in strange places and the last feast of barbecue pork. In general, it's been a fantastic few days in the company of fantastic people. I only regret that the time is working against me, and I had to move on. Start material:
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