The higher we go in to the mountains, the more beautiful nature seems to get. It’s hard work, but definitely worth all our trouble. Not only nature, the day to day life is also different when you’re high up. It’s hard living, because you have to manage with what you’ve got. And a ride to the grocery store is a real undertaking, which requires a 4×4 and a 4 hour ride. Most products are produced by the family’s own animals, and absolutely nothing goes to waste. We love it.

After a few hard days on the bicycle, we took two much needed days off. One for resting, laundry, maintenance, writing and editing and the other for a big hike. There is so much stuff to do around bicycle touring. Of course everything gets really dirty, and at times it can be hard to clean properly. Bolts on the bikes had come loose from trembling on bad roads. The maintenance and all the chores make it almost like a full time job.

Hiking to the Abudelauri lakes

At night we prepared to leave early the next day, and packed our backpacks for a hike to the Abudelauri lakes. The lakes are situated in far north of the eastern part of Caucasus Mountains at an altitude of 2812m at the foot of the Chaukhi Massif. Many hikers pass only two lakes (the blue and the green) on the trek from Juta to Roshka. We decided we wanted to camp at the last white lake.

The white lake is at the foot of a glacier, and since it’s so hard to get there we were the only ones. The only company we had was an eagle that kept calling from the surrounding peaks. Being so far away from the habited world, almost felt a bit eery. We knew there were wolves and bears in this area and we could hear stones crashing down from the glacier.

Stargazing

A bunch of stones falling down in the middle of the night scared the heck out of us. Robin looked out the tent, and shouted out ‘WOW, look at this!’. All clouds had disappeared and the sky was clearer than ever. We could even see the Milky Way. It was beautiful, but also very cold. So Sabina only stuck her head out of the tent, to stare up to the sky. Robin tried to take some pictures of the night sky, but it was very difficult with focussing and lacking a tripod. 

We woke up early the next morning to hike back to the guesthouse in Roshka. A car (which turned out not being the 4×4 we expected!) would drive us and the bicycles to Telavi. It was the same road back and we were not feeling it, having to do that again. The hike and the previous days on the bikes had exhausted us. We were in much need of some pampering.

Meeting Spokeandworld in Telavi

Towards Telavi the landscape changed rapidly. The Caucasus made room for lush green vineyards and fruit plantations. Watermelons and peaches were sold by the road, and Sabina was happy to see that these roads were also becoming flatter.

In Telavi we met up with Kat and Lewis from Spokeandworld. They started their journey in Thailand in February, and cycle to Lewis’ relatives in Ibiza. We had been following them for a while and it was really nice to hang out and bombard them with all of our questions. They gave us a bunch of tips, like the iOverlander app, for finding camp sites and invited us to a WhatsApp group with people cycling the Silk road. Super useful!

Meeting with Kat and Lewis also cleared the air between the two of us. Over the last couple of days, being so exhausted and impressed by everything, things had been a little tense at times. Sabina was more quiet than usually, which worried Robin. Meeting friends and having such a lovely time was just what we needed. We can’t thank Kat and Lewis enough.

Georgian wines in Kakheti

Telavi is situated in Kakheti, Georgia’s premier wine region. Georgian wine is known for its gorgeous amber color. In Kakheti you can enjoy wine tastings for a very fair price at hundreds of vineyards. We payed a visit to the Shumi winery, and tasted three amazing wines made from Georgian grapes. But drinking wine and cycling don’t go well together. Those glasses made the last kilometers a giant struggle.

We were absolutely beat, once again. It was over 40 degrees celsius, and we were on a main road. Finding a camp spot would be impossible, and there were only sketchy road side hotels. We decided to cycle in to a side street away from the main road. It was only going uphill, and it didn’t look like there was going to be a suitable patch of grass to pitch our tent.

Part of the family

All sweaty and looking like a hot mess, Sabina decided it was time to ask for help. She walked up a porch where she could hear people talking. It was an entire family, pealing a big pile of hazelnuts. They immediately invited us in and offered us to stay for dinner and spend the night before they even knew our names. Ekka, the daughter in the family and her boyfriend spoke English and translated everything. They told us about her family, their business and their home. It was the weekend, so her brother who works near Tbilisi and his friend were also home. 

We felt very much at home in their warm and loving family. They fired up the barbecue and grilled big shaslicks, served their family wine and treated us to a traditional feast. It is truly unbelievable how hospitable and welcoming the Georgians are. It gave us so much energy.

Praise and croissants

Kat and Lewis told us they really liked Sighnagi, and looking at pictures we were also looking forward to the little town on top of a hill (it’s still Georgia, so mountains). It had brutal sections with climbs from 10-14%. But those made the view at the top extra rewarding. A lovely Belgian couple we met at the viewing point, made it even better by praising us and feeding us the best little cinnamon croissants ever.

Not a day goes by, without people telling us we are doing something amazing. This is extremely motivating every single time. Telling someone they are strong and admirable, gives an enormous boost. We should tell it to each other all the time, if you ask me.

Smooth hairpin turns and a stunning view

Sighnaghi was a beautiful little town, with cobble stones and old buildings. We can see why it attracts a lot of people. For us however, it was the descend on the other side of the mountain that made our day. Not having to paddle for a few kilometers, gorgeous smooth hairpin turns and a stunning view. Simply amazing.

Bring your water bottle

Our destination today was Lagodekhi national park. We spotted a camp site on the iOverlander map near a hiking trail to a water fall. The camp site was by the ranger station at the start of the hike. When we finally arrived after a long sneaky climb, it was like we had cycled onto the ground of a music festival. There were loads of people barbecuing, making music and drinking and shouting. The place was littered, and there was a big group of stray dogs, waiting for slim pickings.

At night, when most people had left, the dogs where howling and fighting. A group of young people was still playing loud music. To make matters worse it started raining like crazy, having us run to the bikes to properly close the bags.

Not really knowing what to expect after last nights mayhem, we decided to chance it and go on the hike anyway. We are very happy we did, because it was truly a gem. The river made the temperature much more comfortable and the green forrest provided some welcoming shade. The trail was challenging, but very well marked which made it easy to follow. We had forgotten our water bottle at the beginning of the trail, which caused a short moment of stress. But we decided to drink straight from the stream, just not too much. 

Waterfalls and friends

It wasn’t for too long when a Dutch couple, Daan and Evelien (who had also run out of water, wasn’t just us!), caught up on us, with a cute dog that had been following them the whole trail. We walked together and shared travel stories. It’s a shame we never got to meet up after the hike, but they were traveling in the opposite direction as us. We exchanged numbers and shared some tips from time to time.

After a short climb we had reached the destination of the hike, a 14 meter high waterfall. Stoked we had finally reached it, we changed into our swimwear and jumped into the ice cold water. After a while we were joined by Dachi and Matthijs. Dachi is from Tbilisi and his boyfriend Matthijs from The Netherlands. They immediately invited us for dinner and to spend the night at Dachi’s family’s vacation house in Lagodekhi.

Soviet museum

It was only 10 kilometers from our camping spot, so after the hike we packed up our tent and cycled to the house. Along the way we were joined by Jonas. A 20 year old cyclist from Germany. He joined us and Dachi and Matthijs were so generous, they also let him stay the night.

Dachi was very humble about the house, and warned us it wasn’t very comfortable. For us it was an amazing experience, for it was like we walked into a museum of the Soviet era. He had his grandmothers Soviet passport and old family portraits on the walls. He appointed us a huge bed, and there was a warm shower and electricity so what more could we ask for.

Our last night in Georgia

After washing up, we went to a bizarre Soviet-like restaurant with local traditional food. Dachi also showed us how to properly eat khinkali (Georgian dumplings). On our final day in Georgia, it was about time we learnt! Apparently you have to turn the dumpling upside down, whilst holding it on the top. Then you bite a small hole in it. From this hole, you drink the broth. Now you can eat the rest of the dumpling, except for the top part. This is only dough and not meant to be eaten. 

We also learned some sign language, since Matthijs is deaf. This however never stopped him from leading an amazing life. He has traveled to an astonishing number of countries, 54 to be exact. Dachi translated everything, which was also remarkable, since he had only started to learn sign six months ago. But maybe the best part of staying with Dachi and Matthijs, was seeing how much in love they are. This sparked a renewed appreciation in us for our relationship, for how special our it is and how lucky we are that we can share this together.

It was our last night in Georgia, and a perfect one we will cherish and remember. Georgia’s majestic nature might have tried to break us, but the people we met glued up all the cracks and left us stronger than ever. We are ready for the next country, Azerbaijan here we come.

You can find all our pictures of Georgia in the gallery.

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Gamarjorbat! It’s been only a week, but we are both exhausted. At this moment we are regaining some much needed energy in a wonderful guesthouse in Roshka in the Georgian mountains near the Chechen and Dagestan border. Clouds fall like waterfalls over the surroundings peaks. But before we show you the beauty of this far away village, let us tell you how we got here.

Months of preparing all came together in one hectic, emotional day. It was time to say goodbye to our family. The bikes and bags were packed in three enormous boxes, transportation was arranged, now all we needed to do was get our asses on that plane. The airline luckily waved the fee for our overweight box, and even though we had a short transfer everything went extremely smoothly. 

A Caucasus adventure

After some hours of sleep in our hostel, we assembled the bikes and went on the hunt for some food. Bicycles are a rarity in Tbilisi, so we were spotted by a Swiss biketouring couple right away. They started their journey at home, and are also heading for Kyrgyzstan. We however, plan on a caucasus adventure before crossing borders to Azerbaijan.

On Bikepacking.com Robin found a route that would take us trough the great Caucasus. An undiscovered part of Georgia with small villages highly tucked away. We had no idea if it would be doable with our touring bike set up, weighing up to 40 kg each. But hey, if you don’t try, you’ll never know.

Cycling in Tbilisi

After some inquiries at a local mountainbike shop, which was also up a very gnarly hill, we decided to see how far we could get. But not before spending a couple of days in the city, falling in love with all the cute Tbilisi cats. Enjoying the luxury that is called ice coffee, and nourishing ourselves with healthy meals at Georgian restaurants.

Cycling in the city is a real adrenaline rush. Cars race by, honking to present their awareness. Even the one cycle path we encountered wasn’t safe, since pedestrians are not used to bicycles they walk on them, texting on their phones and lighting their cigarettes. Even strollers with babies are parked on the cycle path. Ringing your bell has absolutely zero effect. Much to our humor as we closely pass by texting pedestrians on the bike lane, after ringing our bells numerously with no respond or sign that we are noted.

The mountains are calling

We quickly got fed up with the smog in the city and the mountains were calling upon us. It was time to gather all of our belongings, and click our bags on our steel frames. From here on it’s cycling time. First stop, the lake by Chinti.

When we finally exit the highway for a somewhat quieter main road, realization of how heavy our bikes are kick in. Our first climb, still on asphalt, leaves us pondering if this was a bad idea. Robin takes some weight off Sabina’s bike and we climb further in the staggering heat. Let’s stick to the plan, see how far we can get. One step at a time. There’s no way we’ll make it to Chinti today, but that’s fine. No reason to beat ourselves up.

The fun part started when we left the asphalt and the road suddenly stopped being a road. We were still on the right track, but the grass was getting higher, and so were the torn bushes. Let’s see what these Schwalbes can have, and pray for them to make it without punctures on our first day.

Downhill we hit the last bit of main road, and from there on it was a dirt road in no man’s land. With only abandoned factories and some tiny villages miles from the road in sight. Under a big oak tree we decided to cook ourselves up some lunch. A passing car stopped to tell us there was a river just down the road where we could swim. We decided to check it our and found our very first wild camp spot. A shepherd had his cows grazing by the river, but a few hundred meters further we could pitch our tent. We bathed in the river, and rinsed our clothes. Tired from all the impressions, we quickly fell asleep.

Off the main roads

The next morning it looked like there had been an explosion in our tent. Not used to such a confined space, we just threw our stuff everywhere. This needed to change because all was lost and nothing to be found. Getting ready to leave took us a staggering hour and a half.

Since all worked out well with our camp spot last night, we cycle onwards with full spirit. We were ready for leg two. The road passes small villages with cattle and we were often frowned upon. What are these two idiots on bicycles doing. Do they even know where they are heading? We must have earned respect nevertheless, because we were treated to loads of fruit, veggies, cola and bags of potato chips. A stop at a gas station to fill our fuel bottle we use for cooking, left the attendant in full surprise. Even more surprised were we, when we were passed by a road cyclist with a Specialized gravel racer, fully dressed in Rapha apparel. He waved at us happily, but unfortunately didn’t stop to have his picture taken.

When we started to approach the lake by Chinti, we had high hopes that a beautiful camp spot would present itself just as it did yesterday. The road however was only going up, and the lake was way further down. The climbs were getting steeper and we were pushing ourselves to our limits, having to catch our breath every five minutes.

Thankfully a truck driver noticed that we were struggling, and knowing the road we were about to face, he stopped and offered us a ride. He slung the bikes on top of the load on his truck, and we hopped in with all of our bags. The view over the lake was breathtaking. And without saying a word he dropped us off about 4 km further down the road, after the hardest part had passed. The lake was now behind us, and had turned into a river. We saw an adventure camp, just over the bridge with small vacation houses. But more important to us, a patch of flat grass. A perfect place to pitch our tent. We could take a shower (that was more of a drizzle to be honest), and bought a cold beer to share.

Climbing and climbing

The next town on our itinerary was Roshka’s guesthouse. With climbs up to 20% we knew this was going to be a challenge. By now we knew it wasn’t going to be possible to get over the Atsunta Pass (3.470 m with 40% elevation), so we decided to at least make it to Roshka and from there on adjust our route. Just when we wanted to leave last nights camp, Robin noticed a tired looking bike packer. It was Justin Bill, and he had done the route we had been planning on in the last couple of days, but in the opposite direction. (Which is supposed to be better if you’re also planning on it.) It was tough, and he looked like he had some rough couple of days behind him. He told us, there was not a chance in the world we would make it with our bikes. There were some tricky river crossings, one where he needed to wait for other people to help him pass with the help of a rope. Deep respect for Justin, and the pictures he took look amazing.

Roshka or Korsha?

Our route continued over roads that only got worse, with some very hard parts where we had to push our bikes up. Loose rocks, made us lose grip of the road. Shops were also getting scarcer, so when we finally found one we stocked up for dinner. When we planned todays route we noticed something weird. Google maps and Komoot gave a different location for Roshka. One was noticeably further and higher, and we weren’t sure which to take. Turned out the first town was actually Korsha, but by now we had cycled for almost 45 km and climbed nearly 700 m on difficult push-a-bikes. Add scorching temperatures and a luring camp spot by a river near some houses. We were done for another day.

The spot was amazing. We were out of sight from the road, had plenty of room to stall our bicycles and hang our laundry. And when we went on the hunt for some tap water, we were invited to a lovely Georgian meal. We enjoyed khinkali (spicy dumplings), khachapuri (cheese pie) and some mtsvadi (barbecue roasted meat). Toasting with vodka was also part of the deal. Our hosts were celebrating a local holiday, where they honor their ancestors. It takes place for a week, and every day the holiday moves to the next village up the hill. We toasted to family, passed away but also fiercely alive. To the children and to the beautiful country. After five or six vodkas we kindly excused ourselves. We had a very steep climb ahead of us the next day. 

Bike touring life

By now, we were starting to get the hang of this touring life. Packing up, making breakfast, route planning. It was all going a lot faster. After a false start, some bolts on Sabina’s bike had loosened from the bumpy ride, we were off too our last leg to Roshka. The road continued to worsen, and road workers laughed out loud when we cycled by. They offered us a lift when they passed us in their truck, but we declined. We are here to cycle after all. 

Our Wahoo showed us, we had to take a sharp turn to get off the main road and make our way up a very steep hill. We pushed our bikes, but it was nearly impossible. They were simply too heavy. A car passed by, and fortunately the driver agreed to take our bags up the hill to Roshka’s guesthouse. Lifting 40 kg’s of our bikes. Now we only had water, our camera’s and some snacks to carry. But if you think this meant we could cycle up, think again. The road was too steep, and in too bad of shape. Temperature was rising, and the previous days were still in our legs. Sabina got so frustrated, and Robin tried his best to motivate her but he was struggling too. Mountains can break you, and that’s exactly what happened.

Cry and laugh, and cry some more

Tired and mad that it was so hard, Sabina burst in to tears. With only 2 km to go, and about 200 m to climb, she cried and laughed about it and then cried again. We picked ourselves up, and the reward felt great when we finally set eyes on the small village. It felt like we had reached heaven high in the clouds. We had finally reached the hardest part. Now it’s time to rest.

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