A difficult arrival.
After coming through the border on foot from Turkey (see my previous post on Hopa, here.) I wanted to leave the border area pretty quickly as I know these places have a reputation for petty crime. But how? I had read that Georgian taxi drivers – like in most countries – have a bit of a reputation, so I would prefer to catch a bus … but there was no obvious bus stop. But after a bit of watching and waiting I noticed a group of people gathered outside a kebab stall, so joined them. My gut instinct was correct and I boarded the 16 bus into the centre of the city. I only had some large notes and proffered one to the driver – but he just waved me on, so I had a free ride.
I didn’t have a Georgian SIM card, so was reliant on my UK one and using roaming, but it was patchy at best and I couldn’t follow Google Maps into the city centre. So had to make a decision where to jump off. The bus went on for 30-40 minutes, stopping briefly at the airport and coming into what appeared to be the centre of the city. I exited and hoped for the best. I tried to get google maps to work and then to find a coffee shop in order to use their wifi, but in the end, tired and with concerns about carrying my luggage for miles, I bowed to the inevitable, and looked for a cab.
I found one standing on a corner and showed the driver the address of my digs, but he just waved me away … so tried to flag a passing one – which was harder than I imagined. Eventually one stopped and I got in. We were travelling in the same direction as the bus, so I had jumped too early – the traffic was heavy (not unusual I found out) and it took a little while to get there. When we did he seemed puzzled as this was an unusual stop off point for an obvious visitor. But I checked the photo on Airbnb and yes I was in the right place. I asked the price (which I should have done before getting in) and he said 10 lari. I only had 20 (£5.50) so I offered that and he whisked it out of my hand and was in the car and away before I realised what had happened.
An interesting first day ... and night.
The next issue was getting in. Because of the SIM issue, I couldn’t get the instructions from my Airbnb host on my phone. But I had the wifi code – so the plan was to get outside the door, log into the wifi and the get the instructions. Smart – except the apartment was on the 4th floor and I couldn’t get the lift to work. It didn’t help that the area was in darkness and there were lots of people hanging about which made me nervous.
Soon I became the object of attention and people started to ask me things in Georgian. I tried to point to my apartment number and eventually one woman made it clear she would help and sent away a small child. The child came back with an old man, who handed me the key to my accommodation! Now I was really confused. But with the use of Google Translate (on someone else’s phone) I found out that the issue with the lift (and the lighting) was a power cut.
Of course – I had been told that Georgia and Batumi in particular had regular power outages and was on the reasons why I had not opted to stay at a lovely apartment at a really low cost on the 20th floor. At least with 4 I could walk up the stairs – when I did not have luggage to carry. The group suggested I sat down outside to wait and someone found me a tin of coke to drink. I never drink the stuff. I supped it whilst thinking this has to be the strangest introduction to a new country ever.
After a while struggling with the phone, I looked up and around. I was on my own. I walked back to the lift and it was working – so took myself up to the 4th floor and let myself in. The message from the host said that the key was being held at a small grocers’ shop on the main street. I guess the man who came to me was either the owner or a valued customer. I never found out.
As I had had a much needed nap – I wasn’t tired in the evening, so was up at Midnight when I heard the shots being fired. I say shots – being British I am not that familiar with gunfire, but I know that guns are readily available in Georgia and it was enough to put the fear of God up me. I was just getting over it and into bed when the doorbell rang. Now, I was panicking and decided I wouldn’t open the door no matter how many times someone rang, but went over to see if I could see through any peephole. It wasn’t my bell, but next door’s – and it opened to what sounded like a dozen people singing ‘Happy Birthday’ (same tune different words) as they entered the flat. ‘Great – that will be noise all night’, I thought – but no. I only got woken once around 2am when they made their departure.
A stranger with asylum on his mind.
The following evening I decided to go out for a drink. I had looked on Google Maps for a real ale pub and found one within walking distance. Despite the gun shots the night before I decided to take the risk and arrived around 9pm to an almost empty bar. Just one other customer a young man probably in his thirties. I ordered a beer and the guy hearing my accent asked me where I was from and what I was doing in Batumi – so I told him Ireland (my go-to) and that I was travelling.
‘Ah’ he said, ‘it must be good to have a passport that gives you such freedom.’ I agreed – I know about passport privilege and asked him where his passport was from. Then he told me his tale.
Belarusian, he fled the country after campaigning for the opposition candidate to the current dictator. After the ‘election,’ he was tipped off that his name was on a list of subversives and if he didn’t leave the country, he would be arrested and be made to serve several years in prison. The easiest country to go to at that time was Lithuania, and he was able to get a visa for a year, but when he went to have it renewed it was refused so he had to leave and go elsewhere.
He chose Ukraine, knowing if he could stay for five years he could apply for citizenship. He managed four. When the invasion by Russia began, Belarus was seen as a hostile country, so again he was asked to leave. Hence Georgia. He has been here for just over 2 years and again after 5 years he can apply for citizenship. The problem is that his Belarus passport runs out in 2 years – before he can make that citizenship application. He can only renew it by going back to Belarus and he knows he will be arrested when he sets foot there. So he will need to seek asylum and there is no guarantee that it will be granted by Georgia, so he is looking at other options. Strangely the country most sympathetic to refugees at the moment is Argentina – but that would be one hell of an upheaval. He would prefer Poland … but he is worried that if he is kicked back he could become stateless. He then turned and petted the pub cat.
Two cities in one.
Batumi is a border town and like many border towns it has an edge to it. For example, like many places around the world, small retail shops tend to cluster in what they sell and I was in the electrical appliances bit which was not too interesting, but the next block was tobacco. I have never seen so much tobacco piled up high in stalls anywhere else (before or since.) Not sure what that does to the average Georgian’s life expectancy.
Batumi is an odd mix of these old shops / stalls and huge modern buildings which mainly house hotels or casinos. Similar to Bulgaria, there is a huge industry on the border with Turkey, to cater for the gamblers of that nation, although I think now the casinos attract people from much further afield. I know I am never going to gamble again, so I was not tempted by any of these places – but it made me think why are people attracted to spend money at places which are so opulent and must be raking it in from the punters themselves. Better keep your money and make your own life luxurious.
There is also the tourist side to the town, with photo opportunities, quaint statues, a cable car and tall structures which seem to serve no purpose other than to give tourists a view. I got on a ferris wheel to look out (a little foggy though – see the main photo, above) and in the distance I could just make out the Botanical Gardens which would be my last visit of my week.
Last day amongst the trees.
I got there by Grab, the local ride hailing app – and once more noted that the bus that stopped outside my apartment terminated at the Botanical Gardens. No matter the Grab fare was only about £3 ($4.00 US). The journey also took me past the railway station where I leaving for Tbilisi the following day.
The gardens are vast – and full of trees. For a dendrophile like me – it was heaven. I knew there was an electric bus that would take you around the perimeter path (it’s that long) but there was still quite a long and uphill hike just to get to the nearest bus stop – perhaps the Grab driver could have taken me to the car park instead of the entrance. Once on, I decided to hop off at a point where I thought I could manage the walk back and then strolled along enjoying so many sights. One I described in my previous post the photos I didn’t take – click here. I DID take a photo of the living bridge across a small river and many photos of specific trees. I spent nearly three hours there and wish it could have been more, but I was hungry and my plantar fasciitis began to tell me to stop. I caught the bus back.
By the time I left, Batumi felt like two cities sharing the same streets. One was all performance — bright, vertical, designed to impress and extract. The other carried on quietly, selling tobacco, waiting for buses, helping strangers when the power went out. I was free to move between them, and then move on again.
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