Ushguli: the forgotten villages

The evening before I met with two other tourists and we decided to book a trip to Ushguli, a remote community of four villages 46 kilometres from Mestia. The weather, cold but clear, allowed it, since during the most snowy periods of the year, Ushguli is totally cut from civilisation. After some difficulties (the driver didn't show up - he simply decided he wasn't going) we managed to find another, although for a higher price. The guy was of little words and he delighted us with a selection of rather terrible music. Russian hip-hop, Azeri house and a Madonna greatest hits. But the landscape around us was captivating, so we survived.

 

The road was indeed impervious - at times it's conditions were terrible, I'm not surprised a bit of snow is enough to make the villages impossible to reach. We had to hold fast, as the bumps made us jump up and down in the car. Often we had to go over streams that crossed the road, or avoid fallen rocks. Other time we met peculiar characters.

After around two hours of this, we finally reached the first village. In front of us appeared a view that was difficult to frame in time. If it wasn't for the occasional car, some makeshift metal repairs, the presence of power lines or the ever-present Soviet touch, this would be really timeless. Of course, koshki towers dominate the view here as well.

In these four villages a total of 70 families live, for a total of 200 people.

 

As in Mestia, cattle freely roams the road. At one point in front of us there was an entire farm, striding in the muddy and icy streets. A cow, two swines, a gaggle of geese (finally I can use this!), a donkey and a dog. It doesn't get more rural than this, so we felt our mission was almost complete and since we were cold and hungry, we tried to find something to eat. Not being hunter-gatherers or farmers ourselves, we asked a lady who was near a sign advertising a market and food. Contrarily to what Georgians always are , but much like many other mountain people I know, she was quite brusque and not very friendly. She said she had only soups, probably hoping we would give up, but a hot soup was exactly what we needed in such a cold environment, so we agreed to the soups and she reluctantly showed us in the adjacent restaurant. The soup was tasty, warm and completely smile-free. We quickly finished eating and headed back to the car before it got dark, for another two hours of awful music and breath-taking landscapes.