Summer time and the living is easy, or so we want to think, and I forced my husband to work less last Saturday (to make him quit working is impossible; damn you cell phones with internet). After finding out that Lake Lopota resort in Kakheti costs more than staying in the center of Istambul, I called reasonably-priced Sairme resort and booked a room with a balcony—it’s always nice to have a balcony.
Under rampant sounds of Gogol Bordello, we made a detour to Kutaisi, to visit my favorite road-side restoraunt, Khutorok. It is owned and operated by local Ukrainians. Everything I’ve tasted there is delicious and cheap. Salads cost up to 5 Lari and the most expensive meat entrée is around 10-15 lari. If you are order lunch for two, it will cost probably 15 Lari for both appetizers and entrees. “Khutorok” is the king of my favorite restoraunts – hole in the wall places that look cheap, but serve tasty food made form natural ingredients…the sour cream they brought us, itwas so dense, twe stuck a spoon in the middle and it did not fall...yum.
We left Kutaisi full and happy and went back to Bagdadi, where we saw poet Mayakovski’s house, and hubby even read his poem on the deck. Mayakovski was cool. Once, he was talking to his readers and stated : “I feel Russian among Russian people and Georgian among Georgian people”, someone from the audience yelled: “and among stupid people?”, to which he replied “and among the stupid people, I find myself for the first time”.
Back on the road, which suddenly got so pretty. Trees were trying to hold branches and extended over the road, reaching towards each other, this one river criss-crossed bridges beneath us, every turn seemed curvier than the one before, our stomachs were desprate, our eyes—content; The lords of the road, brown and Dzen cows, chillaxed in the middle of the way, calmly looking at cars honking at them, probably thinking: “only fools hurry, why are these people in cars upsetting the perfect peace of the universe?” and refusing to move; someone spread white sheets to dry between the pines in the forest, like some commercial of Tide Alpine Freshness... Once we got to Sairme, I made it my priority to breathe deep and breathe a lot, cause the air smelled like trees. It just did.
Doorman opened doors for us and brought our backpacks upstairs and I tipped him 2 Lari, feeling very uncomfortable and proud at the same time--I did something I’ve only seen in movies. The room was O.K., remodeled soviet hotel, with two beds apart ( I broke one of them trying to put two beds together and we had to fix it and sleep separately). We walked in the park, we sat on the benches, hubby drank healthy mineral water, we went to the spa, hubby had massage, then we dipped ourselves in the tub of mineral water, then we ate the most boring, dietary dinner provided by the hotel (it is actually a sanatorium, meaning people stay there to improve their health so we were fed carrots and oatmeal), then we kissed in the forest like we were still teenagers that can’t find a place to make out, since they do not have room of their own, and we remembered how we met and got all sentimental. Cue to hurried exit to our hotel (because, now we had a room of our own), and afterwards hubby lounging himself on the balcony (see, balconies are cool!), and smoking a cigar, ruining the effect of tree air and healthy dinner.
We left the next morning and headed to this city full of smoke and of cars and of work and of all things boring and usual and un-Sairmean.
P.S. pic: forest in sairme
