On the way north, we stopped at Ananouri, where a church service was in progress. The bishop – at least, I suppose he was a bishop because he was wearing something that looked like a mitre – blessed the congregation with a set of lit candles in each hand, three in one, two in the other. They were long thin candles, held a few inches apart at the bottom, and tied together near the top. I didn’t have a clue what was going on, except that God was worshipped.
Back on the coach, I got into haiku mode:
(Zhinvali Reservoir)
Water level falls.
Priests dive into drowned churches,
Worship in the dome.
(Memorial celebrating 200 years of friendship between Russia and Georgia, 1983)
Child Georgia hides
In skirts of mother Russia
When war is raging.
(Preface)
Over the mountains
I am sitting on a bus
Pen at the ready.
Lunch at Kazbek, meat pie, veal stew, mushrooms and potatoes with plum sauce, cheese and salad. Then climbed up 500 metres to a hilltop monastery church, built with secret rooms to keep treasures safe in time of invasion. Shame about all the cars. Couldn’t take photos – I think the memory was full and I needed to delete a batch from my world trip 2 years ago.
Back to the extreme sports resort of Gudouri for supper and bed.
emeritablog: life after work 