We awoke on May 20, Wednesday, in Trabzon, northeastern Turkey on the Black Sea.
We stayed in the Otel Horon. It was a good hotel. A very central location and a very helpful staff (they copied several documents that we urgently needed to comply with Turkish regulations), but with mostly limited English. (I am getting more proficient with Google Translate.) The room was a nice size with a good breeze and came with several water bottles. It also had a very well stocked mimi bar (among others chocolates and beer) that unbeknown to me were free. The breakfast was very good (endless selection of cheeses) in the roof top restaurant with great views and breezes.
A digression here. This area does not attract a lot of tourists, at least at this time of year, but there seemed to be a fair number of Arab tourists. Many of their women were dressed completely in black (it gets hot here) and were wearing the full niqab. That is one gradation short of the complete burqa. All that is exposed are the eyes. I have not seen them talk. At the restaurant we observed that they would take food under their garments and eat it under the veil. Very different. I suspect that some devoutly believe that this is religiously mandated, but it certainly burdens women and probably subjugates many.
The first order of the day was addressing the payment for the Turkish toll roads. We had concerns that we would not be permitted to leave or reenter Turkey and/or that we would be subjected to a big fine. Turned out to be all unfounded, as are many travel concerns.
We had been receiving lots of advice from Turks, the guy at the Shell gas station, hotel staff and taxi driver (but not from the tourist office, which we could not find in any of the cities (we did not look in Istanbul) we stayed in) -- not all of which was consistent, about how and where to pay tolls for the major highways. We received very helpful information from a reader of the blog, who shall remain Anonymous, and thus set out to find the PTT office. Finally found it with the help of a silent pedestrian who accompanied us there. When we got there it looked very much like a DMV office in the US. Lots of plastic chairs. Many people standing around with vacant stares clinching papers and little numbers patiently and endlessly waiting their call to numbered windows. Fortunately, when we asked for an English speaker, we were jumped to a special window on the second floor without a line. The two staffers who assisted us were very helpful and with the assistance of Google Translate (and the paperwork we had copied and printed at the hotel), we paid our back tolls, got a sticker (still not sure if we are to affix it to the car or just hold it up when we pass through a toll gate) for future rides and deposited some money in our account. All without the much feared large fine.
Then we walked around the city. Saw a very old Christian structure that seemed by its architecture to date back to Greek days (there were faded remnants of frescoes); while guarded, it was completely unmarked or commented on in the tour book. We also wandered through the bazaar district. Could not find the city museum, but ended up in a local playground that had Popeye and Charlie Brown play structures. Do you think they paid royalties? Of course, we also checked out the ever present Ataturk statue.
Then drove along the coast to Rize. We have driven along many miles of coast and have seen virtually no beaches. Lots of people strolling along miles of seaside promenades, but no one in the water. It would be a nice bike trip.
Rize is a tea place. Like many of the towns along the Black Sea coast, it has about 100,000 people and is squeezed in between the sea and the mountains with high rise apartment buildings marching up the mountain slopes. In LA these would be million-dollar views. Walked around town. In this area of the country we are very different. So we attract lots of attention, not in a bad way. People want to take pictures of or with us. We received free pastries in the bakery and candy in the pharmacy. We were purchasing toothpaste and we got treated as if we were buying expensive jewelry. Also saw the ever-present Ataturk statue, but more interesting was a large number of nooses hanging in a tree in a major square with attached messages and a few pictures. With the assistance of Google Translate we concluded that this was a protest in support of the deposed Muslim Brotherhood ex-President of Egypt, Morsi. This area has a very high percentage of women wearing the head scarves. and a majority wear Muslim dress. It makes many look like Eastern Orthodox priests.
The roads were impossibly steep walking up the mountains so we opted to drive up to Caykur Tea and Botany Garden. What an oasis! Superb views, lush vegetation and mature trees and cooling breezes. All they serve is locally grown tea, in very large (we ordered small) tea pots that remain hot over boiling water. Spent a few hours up there drinking seemingly gallons of tea with sugar cubes. We spoke with a group of late teenage high school girls. Vibrant and outgoing, they had career plans and their eyes went wide when they heard we were from LA. I have to wonder if they will get to experience their dreams or be overwhelmed by the local culture. I wanted to take a few of them back to LA to let them experience the world outside of this corner of Turkey.
Also spoke with an equally outgoing 12-year-old who was watching younger children as their mothers, in Muslin dress and head scarves looked on with some concern. The moms would not consent to pictures, but permitted pictures of the girls and seemed relieved when we showed them a picture of the Statute of Liberty (the 12-year-old was wearing a "Gap New York" tee-shirt).
Then on to the border. We got through 3 Turkish gates without incident. No problem at Georgian immigration, but at Customs I got into the wrong line which caused great consternation. The truck line was again endless and there was a lot of jockeying in the car line. I tried to make a joke with one customs official and another came running over to ask what I had been saying. After about 30 minutes we got into Georgia.
There is an immediate visible difference when you cross the border. It is not as prosperous or well maintained as Turkey. There was a casino 50 meters beyond the border (maybe that says more about the Turks than the Georgians). We lost our GPS (and an hour in the new time zone) and drove on to Batumi, fearing that we would never find the guesthouse in which we had booked a room. However, using some Booking.com directions, a Lonely Planet map and pointing toward the water, we parked in an area we thought was close and then with the assistance of some locals found our destination.
The Old World Guesthouse. Not much to look at on the outside, but very nicely maintained in the interior. A nice room and a nice host, with very limited English.
We walked around the harbor area. There is lots of activity and many restored old buildings. Batumi was a boom town in the early part of the 20th century when it was the Black Sea terminus for the Baku region oil pipeline. It seems to be undergoing a rejuvenation. However the language and alphabet here are incomprehensible to Western ears and eyes. We managed to find the Shemoikhede Genatsvale restaurant. It provided us with a multi course meal of Georgian food and drink for a very reasonable price. The khinkali (dumplings with different fillings) and cognac were very good.
After the meal, and by now after midnight, we got lost returning to our guesthouse. Several people offered assistance. One young lady spoke excellent English and with her assistance we got back.
Next hurdle, getting Georgia primary auto insurance.
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