Advertising is supposed to be aspirational. Therefore I think you should stop using Belgian beaches in your promotional material. I do not want to know that the only place that I get to wear this new outfit will be on a freezing rock under a grey sky near some frosty water:

Just for the record, beaches really should look like this:

In Australia, international borders are very uncomplicated. Once you reach the ocean, the country stops. Over here, things are a lot more complex. Armenia has closed its borders to Turkey, Russia has closed its borders to Georgia, and Azerbaijan has closed its borders to Armenia. Within Georgia itself, there are three autonomous regions – the infamous South Ossetia, as well as Abkhazia and Adjara (spelled Ajaria on the map below).

Image from newzar

We weren’t able to visit South Ossetia, as the borders are still closed and it is not considered safe. However, we were able to spend a lovely day by the Black Sea in Batumi, the capital of The Autonomous Republic of Adjara. Our guide told us that they manage all local politics and issues internally, but international decisions are still made by Georgia.

This is the most popular holiday spot in Georgia, with a long stretch of (grey pebbly) beach lined by cafes, restaurants, and apartment blocks. We ate our lunch in a bungalow, looking out across the water appreciating the cool breezes that mitigated the heat. There is a million-dollar statue of Medea holding Jason’s Golden Fleece in the main square, and we wandered through the park watching children running through fountains in the bright summer sun. Happily, this state seems to have found an equilibrium that permits autonomy of its inhabitants while allowing integration with Georgia.

We spent a lot of our time driving in separate cars, which meant that I didn’t get to spend as much time with Rob, Charles, and Diane as I would have liked. A midnight celebration of the summer solstice was a chance for us to get together and soak in our strange surroundings. The tour organiser had arranged for us to spend the night on the beach near the farm of some of his friends. The farmers drove us to the beach, told us we could choose to build a bonfire if we wished, and then turned around and disappeared for an hour. It was very cold, so we were very motivated to build a driftwood bonfire. Andy, Adrian and I built an excellent base that was full of kindling and cardboard. We then stacked dried driftwood on top, only to discover that we had no matches. We found one piece of wood that looked like a seal, and called him Frederick. Jay later placed Frederick on the fire, and I watched sadly as the flames engulfed him. Adrian and I went egg hunting while we waited for our hosts to return, and found two nests in the sand, each with two speckled eggs.

A while later, the farmers returned with matches, blankets, and food. Charles was too cold and left, but the rest of us sat around the bonfire that quickly ignited. We ate fresh rolled pancakes dipped in hot chocolate, while sitting on a black sand beach with the waves rolling in. It was the middle of the night, yet the sky was still light. An extraordinary way to mark the summer solstice. We were told that this night is full of magic. If we were to roll around naked in the dew, our diseases may be cured. If we placed a special orchid root under our own pillow and an unrequited love, their heart would be ours. And this was the night for venturing into enchanted places to collect magic rocks that grant wishes. I had no need for any of those rituals, as I was having a perfect night with wonderful people in an amazing country.

There are horses everywhere in Iceland. Even more plentiful than the sheep, they are dotted along the landscape where ever there is green grass. They are exported worldwide, used for recreation and farm work, and sometimes found on the menu. There has been no interbreeding for more than 1000 years, and the rules are so strict that even a horse that goes abroad to compete may never return.They are curious and gentle creatures. One strange habit they have is resting on their sides – flat out on the ground with their heads resting on the ground.

We even had a chance to go horse riding. Or more correctly, horse sitting. I sat on the horse, and it followed a pre-programmed course around the farm for 90 minutes. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. However, my horse was very sweet. His name is Vina, Icelandic for ‘friend’. Sometimes he was a little rascally though, stopping to eat buttercups along the way, which meant that by the end of the ride his lips were completely yellow. We took a picturesque ride through green pastures, along a black sand beach, and through meadows filled with wildflowers. I was even able to experience the tölt – a unique gait of Icelandic horses that is faster than a trot, but still smooth and comfortable.