One of my favourite days in Georgia was our day trip to Kazbegi (ყაზბეგი), a small town high up in the Greater Caucasus mountains of Georgia. Our bus spent a few hours winding zigzagging the Georgian Military Highway, and we watched the cows grazing on steep slopes like dozens of tiny ants across undulations still dappled with snow.

When we reached the base of the mountain, our guide NeNe gave us a choice: we could hike up for two hours, or we could ride up in a Soviet-era jeep. I felt as the youngest members of the group we should trek up the mountain, but John and Adrian were fans of motorised transport. The rest of the group mocked us for our slothfulness. Even NeNe chastised us, telling us with a smile that we were very lazy and we should hike up, and we will miss out on many amazing sights. Adrian asked if there would be bears, and she told us with a straight face that there would be hundreds of them.

I was convinced to take the jeep, and we chose a little purple 4×4 AvtoVAZ Lada to take us to the top of the mountain. Our driver knew the rocky one-way path very well, expertly manoeuvring across the rocks and the mud, and even reversing down the hill to let another car pass us. Abundant wilderness and emerald foliage trees embraced the car as it tackled the precipitous incline.

After a bumpy but beautiful 40 minute trip, we reached the top and saw the Gergiti Church ahead of us. We strolled through a vast field of wildflowers, passing through a heard of cows munching on the flora. I wasn’t able to enter the church (no dress, no entry), but I was able to run through a massive meadow of millions of marigolds. We then perched on top of an old stone wall to enjoy our picnic lunch of potato salad and coleslaw.

An hour later, we saw the first members of the hikers emerge from over the crest, looking red, sweaty and exhausted. I greeted NeNe brightly, and asked her if she had seen any bears. “I hate you”, was her exhausted reply. Suddenly the weather changed, and the blue sky disappeared behind gloomy grey clouds. We decided to return back to the village in our Lada, and the hikers had to turn around too, in order to make it back by 3pm. As soon as we hopped in our car, it started to hail, and I am ashamed to admit that we might have waved to the hikers as they trudged through the mud on the way down.

As we drove through the village, our chauffeur stopped to talk to a farmer with six spotted piglets. I hoped for a second that we were going to give all the wiggly piglets a ride in the jeep, but sadly we kept on driving without taking on any porcine passengers. While the rest of the group limped back into town, we spent the afternoon in a very low-frills café and its shrill Georgian pop music. The end of the tape would bring short-lived relief, until our hostess would emerge from the other room to turn over the cassette to ensure the performance was repeated.

On our penultimate day in Georgia, we visited the walled city of Sighnaghi, now completely reconstructed as a tourist town. For me, the highlight of this town was a little puppy that we called Sluppy. This small chocolate brown dog soon adopted us as we stepped off the bus, and guided us up and down the main street. She showed us the park at the top of the street, and waited for us outside as we perused the shops. She was distracted for a moment when she had to chase a car away, yapping happily, but then she came trotting back up to us, looking proud of her accomplishment. As a reward for her loyalty, we treated her with some salami from the local supermarket, and she happily snapped it all up. Unfortunately, it was soon time for us to get back on the bus, and she watched us with some confusion as we drove away. Soon though we saw her scampering off, with the smug smile of a puppy with a full belly of salami.

We have been able to visit two of the charming cave towns of Georgia – Vardzia (established around 1185 CE) and Uplistikhe (perhaps first settled around 1500 BCE). Vardzia is still an active monastery, however Uplistikhe is now abandoned. We were able to wander through a maze of streets, bakeries, churches, palaces, apartments, and prisons, all carved into the limestone caves. In Vardzia, John and Adrian chose to explore the dark, narrow, slippery innards of the cave system, while I made the much more scenic decision to return to the bus via a quiet path through the meadows, sharing my trail with lizards and birds enjoying the sunshine.

The day met an adorable end when John discovered a puddle of puppies sunning themselves on a footbridge. They ran up to me enthusiastically, and responded blissfully to a belly rub. Whenever I moved away, the followed me and plopped down at my feet, begging for more attention. I felt like sneaking one into my bag, but they appeared to be well loved by the farming family that lived nearby.

We have now crossed into Georgia, and we are spending nine days exploring this little country on the Black Sea, in between Russia, Armenia, and Azerbaijan. It seems more European and more prosperous than Armenia, however a lot of the country that we drive through is full of small family farms. We spent one afternoon visiting a family of potters. The family welcomed us into their home, and the father demonstrated his technique, carefully spinning the pottery wheel with one hand while shaping bowls and flagons with the other.

After he had finished, he asked if any of us wanted to have a go. I volunteered, and constructed a terribly lopsided and unstable pot. The rest of the tour group suddenly became experts at pottery, giving unhelpful advice such as “spin it faster” and “use more water”. At the end, my pot was graded 3/10.

Adrian had a go after me, and his pot earned him 5/10, and the father was actually able to salvage it into a small bowl, to be sold in the pottery shop next week.

After our adventures in pottery, I met the baby chicks and the baby calf in the small garden outside the house. The chicks ran around with tiny cheeps, and the adorable calf greeted me with big brown eyes and a big lick from its long black tongue.

We bough a clay hedgehog piggy bank from the pottery store to celebrate the occasion. I am really enjoying the chance to get out into the countryside. Life here is such a contrast to the big city. While I am saddened by the poverty and the lack of opportunity and access that is so visible here, I am also finding it very relaxing to be able to take some time out to live a simple life surrounded by nature.