When I start the next morning from pass, I have a problem. The story of Rosalie seems to repeat itself. Rosalie 2.0 so to speak. A dog lives at the hotel, where I have stayed. A very shy dog. The owner sin quite surprised how quickly I win his trust. And when I do go then, he follows me at once.


Oh great! A further dog heart that I must break. Maybe I should not always so friendly to Mr. And Mrs. Doggy. But this also no longer helping me. I turn around and bike direction Hotel again. There, I then put the dog at his place and start again from scratch. And you may guess, who hangs back on my heels. Santa Claus! No, of course not. The dog. So the same games again. Driving back, dog to set cookies, but this time I'm going in again quickly and contact the owner. You find that quite amusing and with come out to watch. With their help, I can pull my third start then on his own.

The road leads me first downhill towards the Valley. Where road would be over-stated. It would better meet: Moguls, overlooked by potholes, look out on the sharp stones and the Samuel always again violently comes to the cursing, because he just has been paying attention. But that he is not paying attention has, has his reason. The reason lies in the intoxicating beauty of the surrounding nature. I've got something similar or equivalent rare face on my tour. The reason may be buried in it, I love the autumn. Because what I see is a lovely autumn landscape. The trees stretch their passing leaves in last, colorful colours once again sky. Through her dense orange, brownish shimmering canopy the fog waft ruhsam. Not a soul can be seen. The beauty is there at this moment all mine alone price. And I suck it, inhale it so to speak.

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As the delays in the downhill not solely are owed the road conditions. Road conditions are better in the Valley just below. Until then the magic, has been of the autumn forest, and thus I am finally free to enter again into the pedals. And I do exactly that too. As I meet on the first tar it feels, like an act of liberation. I'm currently not to keep. I nozzle always further and further along, the streets, and only when the first hunger catches up with me, I'm a break.

The pause lasts but shorter than planned. Because I feed a few dogs, a man in the bus stop, where I'm just discovered me. The man told me for the first time, that he fought in Afghanistan and offered vodka to me. Also he's staring all the time on my pocket knife and wants to have given gladly. He tells me that he is known in the area and I should say that I know him, if I would have problems. I just think to myself: "Yes, Yes, at the end I will arrested, when I say that." Because the type is not comfortable to me, I leave my place of rest sometime in advance and get back on the bike.

The rest of the afternoon it goes more or less hilly over the landscape, from place to place. But no comparison to the efforts of the last few days. In the evening, I am then in Akhaltsikhe and wondering whether I should go out still out of town or to find me accommodation in a hotel. As I can download the price by 40 percent in a hotel, my decision on the hotel.


The next day, my way through a Gorge leads me. Towering rock walls left and right and through the middle of the Canyon, a small river that is framed by autumnal yellow foliage trees winds tirelessly. The Sun makes me feel her warmth today again and so I am good things, while I follow the Valley.


Until the evening, I follow the Valley, then I start to look for a tent place. I have three good choices, I choose but the fourth, at least good. Namely under a walnut tree and me the first walnuts on the head fall, I ask myself why I actually chose this place. Something feels right because.

I distorts my supper, a huge cake with vegetable spread. While I chew so before me, I notice how cheap actually, my dinner is actually. The flat bread was expensive 26-27 cents. And I usually have not to pay much more than food. There is evident again: travel can be very cheap.


When I build then just my tent, approaching the Shepherd next door. He is just a picture of my situation and something I never thought I'd come. I am invited to spend the night with him!

No time, I put back together my tent and run by his wife Eva in her small house. You shipped me once in the kitchen and then served. There are all sorts of delicious things. She is quite proud of the milk from their cows and so there's still a glass warm me sugar. I can't help of course.


The House is very rustic. Eva uses a gas lamp, so that we can see something in the dark. Only when Sergei makes the generator, there is power. The toilet is an outhouse in the open air. Flowing water does not exist. And across the table, a face familiar to me lifts the main. Stalin. The two are probably still under arrest to times long past.

After the feast, it then goes to television. For both, it seems quite important to be and I can also well imagine that. For the two that have as a window to the rest of the world lives, because otherwise, yes right alone.

And when I then tired in sleep will go, I get bounced to her bed. And it helps even a protest, the two sleep today somewhere else. Who would we be warm and soft bed give for a stranger give me?


The next morning, Eva FRY potatoes in oil for me out then. There is a homemade sauce and as I to see you give that it tastes me, she gives me another a bottle of sauce.


As I say goodbye by the two to me I'm incredibly touched. You have so little compared to us, but yet so much.


Date: 14. October 2015 to 15. October 2015

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