We're moving on this evening, so our first step today was to deposit our luggage in the storage facility at Tbilisi station. Then, as yesterday, we had breakfast at the station, having again felt the need to get going earlier than our guesthouse breakfast would have allowed.

Having been too late to book train tickets to Mtskheta, we were forced onto the marshrutka (minibus) network again.

This is a cheap form of transport (only GEL 1 per person, compared with GEL 8 to come home on the train).

But dammit, we can't get these things right...

Marshrutkas to Mtskheta go from a place close to Didube Metro station. As always seems to be the case when we catch these things, they go not from the first clump of minibuses, but the second, the one beyond the crowded little market area.

Having paid on the bus when we went to Sighnaghi, we duly climbed aboard the minibus to Mtskheta, squeezing our way to the only vacant seats (right at the back -- again as always...)

Then someone says we need a ticket, from the ticket office which we'd failed to spot. By now we're wedged in at the back, the aisle is packed, and the bus is about to go. "We have no tickets," I say in Russian to the nearest occupant of the aisle. "Not a problem," he says, in English. "We need to buy tickets," I persist. "No, it's OK," he equally persists. "We're about to go. Just stay there."

So we sit tight, and pay the driver at the end. And I feel guilty all the way because people who've done things properly, and bought tickets, are having to stand...

At the end of the day, a lot of travelling involves feeling awkward...

Ancient Svetitskhoveli Cathedral is Mtskheta's main draw card.






And we arrived while a service was taking place. So very, very beautiful...

Imagine soaring vaults, huge frescoes, and walls laden with icons; imagine the interplay of light and shadow, the flicker of candles, the gleam of flowers; imagine the jingling of the incense-container and the clouds of perfumed smoke.

Then hear the rhythmic chanting of the liturgy. And -- most magical of all -- hear the voices of the three women making the responses. Sweet, soulful, and in close harmony, Georgian-style. Magical.

We all have our own heavens. This would be one of the rooms in mine...










The tourist stalls had hotted up by the time we emerged. But it wasn't too crowded. After a quick injection of coffee and internet (it's such a pain that we have no roaming arrangement here), we went to look at another lovely Mtskheta church, Samtavro, now part of a nunnery.

The 4th-century church at the side is tiny, but full of frescoes. The big church contains royal tombs, beautifully carved, and backed by gleaming mosaics, and another tomb, in gorgeous pink marble. Worshippers work their way round the icons, while a few nuns move quietly about, keeping things tidy.



Cafe Tatin is a nice place for lunch. After which we planned to visit an archeological site on the edge of town. We bottled out of this, however, when we saw how busy the road was, and how lacking in footpaths.

Instead, we decided to visit Olga's Monastery.

This was a random pick from Google maps, which in Georgia pretty much equates to a gamble. We crossed the railway line, climbed the road up the hill, and groaned to see it apparently peter out. But no, it didn't. It continued as a steep path, up through woods.


And it emerged at a miniature monastery. There's a little church, a little graveyard, a red-roofed dwelling, and a garden with sunflowers. And there's a terrific view, out over the valley to the ridges opposite.





We sat for an hour up here. And this would be another room in my heaven. High up, the sun shining, the wind making the trees dance, the cicadas thrumming. Sharing a bench with my best travel companion.

We'd booked train tickets home. When we arrived at the station, we looked back up the hill we'd come down from -- but nothing could be seen. Not a single stone. It was as though it had all disappeared... Magical.

Of course, travellers rapidly come down to earth. The train was so late we'd started to make contingency plans.



But it came.


The wagon our seats were reserved in didn't exist, and the guard had no idea what to do with our internet tickets. But we reached Tbilisi. Where we rounded the day off with shotis bread, a salty white cheese, and a couple of bottles of Argo, another of this country's fine beers.

So... a great end to this section of our Georgia experience. Tonight we embark on a side-trip to Armenia. But we'll be travelling back through Georgia to get to Azerbaijan, our last stop. I'm glad we don't have to say goodbye just yet.