The really bad weather had eased off in the morning but a steady downpour persisted. We were given a really good breakfast of fresh bread and kachapuri and after thanking our hosts got back in the road. 

  
We started off riding through the rest of the hills around Chokhatauri in driving rain. It was a great cycle starting off with a long descent down to a stream (swollen from the rain) and then back up to get over the last of the hills and down into the wide plains through which ran the Rioni river. Most of the bigger towns and cities were found on the north bank of the river including Kutaisi, a city on the former site of Colchis (where Jason went to get the Golden Fleece). But the only direct road East on that side of the river was the busy highway, so we stayed on the south bank and rode along the flat through small towns and villages.

 

 
The heavy rain over the last couple of days had flooded the surrounding fields but by now the precipitation had stopped. We passed by a bunch of those box like Georgian houses, which seems to be the staple rural settlement. Cows, goats, chickens and geese wandered across our path more often than cars. At a town called Vani we had lunch in a small bakery with a group of kids there for a birthday party.

 

 
Similar riding after lunch until we arrived at Dimi. At Dimi we passed a small hole in the wall bakery with the smell of fresh bread wafting out, we hadn’t gone 50m passed it when we decided to turn around and get some of that tasty fresh bread. While we were stopped we were approached by a Georgian dude and his friend, evidently returning from the pub. As soon as they saw us their eyes lit up and then trotted over. After giving them out, by now well rehearsed, spiel describing wha the were up to the invited us back to their house for coffee. 
Their house, as it happened was back beside the bakery. In fact, it was attached to their garden wall. They pulled us inside to say hello to their baker buddies inside the sweltering hot box of a building, pretty welcome after the day in the wet. As we were leaving one of the bakers threw us a loaf, so we got our bread after all. We then went inside for a coffee, but not before he made us stand outside and shout someone’s name with him (I guess his wife) to come open the door. Kinda like Fred Flinstone in the closing credits.

Anyway, we got inside his lovely house, said hello to his mother and sat down for a coffee. We talked as best we could, bringing out the map which is by now our go,to prop to entertain the people we run into. As an aside, this was the first time we heard about the Paris attacks which had happened two days before when it came up on the news in the TV room, which just goes to show how isolated you end up on the bike. 
Finished our coffee and then made a move, it was still early enough and we wanted to make some more distance before it got dark. Out of Dimi the road got very steep very quickly. We were back in hilly terrain, it was a bit like the Ardene,mthe frequency with which the elevation changed. There were also vinyards everywhere, most of the hills being cultivated to produce grapes.

 

 
All this cultivation though meant we were having a hard time finding somewhere to camp, all the ground was being used to farm. Until we passed an abandoned school or seminary, we weren’t entirely sure. But it was secluded and, most importantly dry and sheltered. We pulled all our gear inside and then hung it all up to dry. We were very pleased with ourselves finding such a good spot.

 

 
  

After not making much distance over the last few days most of the riding today was along flat plains and we managed to get a good amount of kms done today. It had started raining in the early morning and continued most of the day, but the heaviest rain passes over before we had set off. It was kind of that misty rain that you don’t really notice all that much.
Arriving on Ozurgeti after leaving camp after a bit under an hour of riding and picked up some supplies in the local supermarket. We were followed around the whole time by a surly old woman with a mop cleaning up the rainwater we were dripping in the shop, though I’m sure we weren’t the only culprits.

 

 
Flat riding after Ozurgeti for most of the rest of the day, felt good to make some progress towards Tbilisi finally. The rain had been falling hard on and off (mostly on) over the last week and a half and a lot of the fields we passed had flooded and all the rivers were swollen with flowing fast.
Had a late lunch in a roadside rest stop just before we had to climb over some foothills. Meal wasn’t great but the experience was fun, a group of Georgian guys at the other table took an interest in us and gave us some of their wine they had brought from home. After finishing the jug they had with them one of the guys hurried out to his car to fetch more and ended up hauling in a huge 20l fuel container filled with homemade wine. With still some cycling to do we had to refuse and got back on the bikes.

 

 
Climbing and then looking for good camp spots as the weather worsened and the light faded. We found an abandoned old concrete structure that would provided shelter from the direct rain and gathering wind, though it did drip like cave.
The weather was getting worse and worse, it was a real storm building now. A local woman came by to take shelter from the heavy rain as the thunder and lightening came down. I guess taking pity on us she pointed out her house down the road and gestured we could sleep there tonight. This time we took up the offer and packed up and made our way down to the house.

 

 
The place was a basic farm house with one big room that had all the heat in it, generated by a wood burning stove. The beds, kitchen and TV were all here. When we arrived the woman pulled out some chairs for us to sit by the fire. As the evening went on a few more people arrived, another woman and her two young children, but we couldn’t really communicate with them all that well so we sort of sat in silence watching the TV.

 

 
We had gone to bed, a big room upstairs with two old beds piled with blankets when the husband came home. He came bursting into the room smiling and gesturing and slurring some Georgian at us that made it pretty obvious where he had been all evening. He was very friendly, of course, and invited us back downstairs to drink some more Georgian wine. We sat with him and his wife (the kids had been hurried off to bed he came back down with us) and spent the evening saying ‘good’ and ‘super’ Georgia and Ireland were. That was until Finn broke out the camera and a sort of impromptu photo shoot began.

Loah (the husband) was quite enthusiastic that we could send the photos to him on Facebook but we were pretty sure he didn’t have access to the Internet. We asked for their post address so we could post the photos to them but there was much confusion and once again a mobile was produced and the English speaking friend called. We finally wrestled a post address out of him and figured it was a successful evening entertaining our generous hosts so went back to bed while the storm raged outside.

After a great nights sleep in warm beds as a storm blew outside we woke up feeling well refreshed. We came down in the morning to something bad: news that the pass we hoped to cross today had been hit by a big dump of snow during the storm last night and was now closed. But also something good: Lilyanna was baking fresh bread in the stove and served us up a great breakfast of tea, fresh bread and meat dumplings. After a great feed like that we were well ready to head off.

As we were packing up Lilyanna had been on the phone to her friend who, presumably, spoke English as she came out to us with a few sentences, first ” Welcome”. Then “I love riverdance.” And finally “tell your mother to come here”. So mum, you are invited to visit Nodzari and Lilyanna in Georgia. Their house is very warm and Lilyanna is a great cook.

 

 
  
We waved goodbye to the two of them and set off in the late morning. Arriving back in Batumi for the third time we followed the coast road out of the city. The road followed the train tracks for a while by the flat seaside before turning up into the hills for a some time. Back to the coast and through the town of Kobuleti where we picked up lunch from a small bakery. Took the inland road out of town, passed a hitchhiker waiting for a lift and after asking some road workers for directions followed the route towards Ozurgeti.

 

  
We didn’t make it to Ozurgeti before the end of the day. We’re still getting used to the days getting shorter and we found ourselves in more hilly terrain as the sun was starting to set with few good camping spots. Eventually found one, an old overgrown dirt road that led to nowhere overlooking a small valley that provided just enough flat ground to camp on.

 

 
As we were setting up the tarp an inquisitive kid who lived nearby approached on his bike. He watched my bike as Finn tried to entertain him by showing him the map, so,e of our photos and pieces of gear. In the end we found out his name was Kiga and he had a great time helping us out the tarp up. He was a smart kid, picked up on how to tie the knot we use to attach the lines to the pegs after one show and then he wanted to make sure it was set up perfectly on all sides. After he sat with us for a while until some of his friends came over and called him back for dinner.

 

 
It had gotten dark by now so we settled back under the tarp to eat ourselves until, maybe 20 minutes later a whole crew of kids and teenagers came over to us for a chat. One of the older guys invited us back to his place and if we hadn’t got everything set up already we would have come with him, but trying to express this to him through gestures and simple English was difficult to say the least. He ended up calling a friend of his who spoke English to communicate.

After a while they left, we figured they got bored of us after all the easy to convey information about ourselves had been given out, but soon the older guy who had invited us (his name was Tengo and was 20) his younger friend and Kiga returned. Tengo had in his hand a plastic bottle of a sort of pale, yellow liquid that was some of his homemade wine. Chatted for a while, Tengo’s friend had a smattering of English and translated while Kiga listened. When the bottle was finished and the temperature dropped they waved us goodbye and went back home and we retired to our Bivvys.

We wasted no time getting ready to leave, but it still took the better part of the morning and afternoon to leave Batumi. We had marked out a route that would take us to Tbilisi via some mountains in the south of Georgia. We knew we were probably going to have to wait around a bit again in Tbilisi while getting our Iranian visas so we didn’t mind taking a long route to get there if the route was nice, and we figured some mountain riding almost always provides a good ride.
The road out of Tbilisi started out long and flat, lined with Eucalyptus tress and petrol stations, small markets and tyre repair stations. It then picked up the course of a river and started up into the mountains (though not at a very steep gradient). The sky was darkening with clouds and we were pretty sure it would rain in the near future.

  
  
It was getting darker earlier and when, at about 4:39 we passed a good grassy camping spot at a wide meander in a river we decided to call it a day and set up. It wasn’t a moment too soon, almost right as we started putting the tarp up the rain started to fall. We got the tarp up quickly and took shelter underneath for the rest of the evening before eventually heading off to sleep. It was s short first day back, but cycling out of a city tends to be a bit shorter than a normal day anyway.