Davit Chokheli organized by “Georiders” Climat Week Critical mass demonstration 24th Octomber 2011 www.georidersmtb.com from David Chokheli on Vimeo.
Expedition Journal
My plan after coming back from Georgia was to explore the UK so this year I’ve done a number of ‘microadventures’. They have been a good way to get out of London where I’ve been living for almost a year now. Apologies that this is not an in depth report, I intend to do full write ups in when I have time.
Back in February I took a bus (from Victoria coach station in London) out to Merthyr Tydfil in Wales and walked up to Pen Y Van and wild camped and hiked for three days.
In April I went back to Wales for three days of brilliant mountain biking.
We drove in Vincent’s Renault Clio to the Pankisi valley in the north of Georgia. We had been invited by a group of local musicians and a famous Georgian band of singers to perform at a secret location.
The roads got rougher the further we went from Tbilisi until Vincent was continuously dodging rocks and holes. After a few hours we arrived in an exceptionally beautiful village in a lush forested valley.
We ate a wonderful traditional lunch of badrijani, fresh puri bread, and ostry soup and then drove up to the location of the concert which was a ruin of a fortress or perhaps once a grand stage. Stone terraces stepped down to a circular area where we would perform. Read more…
I took a dirt track which swung down into a deep river gorge. At some point there had been a road bridge over the water but that had long since been reduced to a crumbling sculpture of red brick invaded by a plants growing out of the mortar.
I hauled the bike over the water which flowed down a crease in a huge slab of granite. I surveyed the far side of the gorge. There was a wire attached to a sturdy shrub atop the ten metre high rocky cliff.
I propped my bike on my shoulder and slowly but painstakingly found foothold after foothold. A wrong move would have meant a fatal fall onto a scree slope. Half way up I propped the bike on a jutting piece of rock, pulled myself above it and heaved the bike up into a tangled patch of heather.
Relieved and satisfied, I followed the single-track along the top of the cliff beside the gorge. I pushed my bike through through long dry grass and saw a long dark snake move away from me into the deeper undergrowth; slow enough to make me think it wasn’t in a huge hurry.
The main gorge was intersected by a smaller one which I had to traverse around. There had been a concrete bridge at one point but now it existed as a rusty iron frame with remnants of it’s previous form clinging to it.
I battled my way up a steep embankment through more thorn bushes and pine trees emerging on the maintenance route for the rusty electricity pylons. I followed the route relieved to be descending and using the bike rather than carrying it.
The track joined the botanical gardens. Delightfully it felt like I had them all to myself.
I ate lunch my friend Vincent. He gave me some useful advice “Energy is key!”.
In an old building in Marganishvili I stood in front of my first class which consisted of about twenty people. The oldest was fifty and the youngest was thirteen. I was nervous but calmed myself with steady breathing and a good posture. I asked people to introduce themselves and almost immediately forgot most of the names.
I asked what they wanted to learn and was met with silence which I took as a cue to start the activity. I asked what I should do in Georgia which provoked many energetic answers: “You can go and eat pizza” a boy said which roused plenty of giggling, “but I don’t like pizza” which amplified the laughter.
It resolved to a lively chat. I asked about Georgian culture and the students explained the traditional toasting rituals. I asked what they thought of the government and an older man answered; “Saakashvili is very young and he is trying to create democracy out of Communism overnight.”
I was rediscovering England somewhat through gathering materials for the lesson such as a podcast about a wind turbines in Manchester City Football stadium, famous buildings in London and showing an episode of ‘The Weakest Link’.
Teaching English in Georgia was a valuable experience. I became more confident with each English lesson and I became more perceptive of the differing personalities of the students. I hoped to better and more thoroughly answer people’s questions and try to facilitate the learning process by trying to understand what they wanted to learn.
I heated up the plate of rice and said farewell. I was grateful to Manoog. He had been an inspiration during a important time. The feeling of the situation didn’t have the gravity of emotion I expected it to. It was like I was just coming back in an hour or two but I knew I wouldn’t see Manoog again for a while.
I left the flat with my bike. I felt driven to ride. As I pedaled, I saw landmarks I had passed when I hitch-hiked previously. It was the same journey again but in slow motion and I could take in my surroundings meditatively. Read more…
Myself and my former London housemate are cycling to Ireland this week. Siobhan has never done any major cycling and she’s bought all the kit needed for this trip including a new bike to replace the old cast iron one she had.
We are going to be taking a nice back road route which will go from near Leicester via the back roads past Birmingham, Stafford, into Wales and over to Holyhead and then up to Northern Ireland near Belfast.
We’ll be taking it nice and easy and enjoying the weather which I hope will stay just as nice as it has been recently! Read more…
This last week I went over to Wales. The process of organising a trip away is beforehand a somewhat tense one. It’s a mix of excitement and making sure that everything runs smoothly, especially when considering the cost of public transport in this country. Getting to Wales on the bus from Victoria, if you book in advance is really cheap at only £6.50 a single going up to about £20 last minute. Read more…
In a forest in Georgia after a rave.
On a riverbed in Mongolia after pushing the bike 25km along it. Read more…
Everywhere you turn, Istanbul is a visual, auditory and olfactory feast.
The waft of grilled meat, tobacco smoke, and the smell of roasting chestnuts.
Children running and shouting, sellers touting their wares, men sitting, drinking tea and chain-smoking.
Read more…
