When I got ready to leave, Jemal was there to wave me off and give me hot water for my tea:
Then another gentleman appeared with what seemed like a bottle of cola, a cup of either water or vodka, and a very relaxed mood:
And then I got on the road.
One thing that had become clear by now was the fact that Georgia had a dog problem. They seemed to be roaming the land in even larger numbers than in Azerbaijan or Iran (but this could have been just an error in perception on my part). Either way, some of them were pretty mean.
This one seemed mean at first, but it turned out he was a big fluffmeister who was just hungry AF:
The road was quiet. I crossed a river once and saw a fisherman:
And then, when I stepped out of the forest, I saw the mountains that the road was leading to:
At this point I had pretty much made my decision – I was going to try the hard way and go up the serpentine road to Sighnaghi. There was a monastery there, a historical town center, and on top of that: a Mexican restaurant!
“A Mexican restauraaaaaaaant!” I told Heather and George from the UK, who were riding their bikes through the Caucasus:
They said they had passed it on their way, but alas! they had not tried it. I said I would go there and eat all the things, so it would be okay.
When I reached the little town of Tsnori, which was at the foot of the mountain that I would have to go up in order to reach Sighnaghi, I was greeted by smiling old men:
I stocked up on water and bread, and I also bought a sausage and a yoghurt drink. Then I walked through the little town:
And then the serpentine roads began:
We (the Caboose and I) climbed until darkness fell:
And then we climbed some more, until the shape of Sighnaghi appeared in the distance:
And then we were there:
We went straight to the Mexican restaurant, which was tiny and had only three tables:
The Caboose stayed outside while I found a seat and ordered something like an enmolada with two tacos on the side:
And a mojito:
And then another mojito.
It was perfection.