After Tbilisi's legendary winter that I'm sure you're all tired of hearing about, it seems that about two months of spring is what can be expected as a reward. Welp, those two months are over. It's June, and it's hawt. I'm not sure I feel up to another Extreme Temperature Georgian Experience, so am blessing the good timing that's going to fly me out of here right as summer gets into its fighting stance. Seven more days, folks. Seven. Holy hell. You do realize that means in one week, it will be my last day in Georgia? Well, for three months anyway.
With home -- and family, and friends, and steak, and cocktails with ice -- so loomingly close, I feel like I've kind of slipped into a holding pattern. I'm no more than maybe three-fourths really here. The rest of me is already on a plane, on the porch, in Old Town, at the Smithsonian, sipping cab franc at Fabbioli Cellars.
But if there is one thing that drives me crazy, it is wasting time. So I have been trying my damnedest to make the most of these last days here in increasingly sunny Georgia. On Saturday, I crossed off another thing on the Georgia Bucket List and hiked up to Turtle Lake, hidden away up on Mtatsminda.
Several months ago, I visited Vake Park with Blair, the girl I tutor. Up behind the top of the big cascade fountain, I pointed to a path and asked if she knew where it went. She said "Turtle Lake, I think."
Intrigued by the idea of a lake hidden away up on top of a mountain, I made a mental note to check it out sometime.
As I discovered the other week when hiking up Mtatsminda to the TV tower, the mountainside does not do much boast "trails" as it does a completely un-navigable honeycomb of crisscrossing trails, paths, and occasionally even a paved road. It makes following any one path nigh impossible, so the "path to Turtle Lake" very quickly became "winding my way gradually up the mountain". I didn't have a map, not that it would have done me a rat's ass worth of good anyway. I knew I was supposed to be going vaguely up, and for some reason I had it fixed in my head that Turtle Lake was somehow "to the right" of Vake Park. So with that in mind, I just sort of shrugged and mentally switched the day's task from finding Turtle Lake to simply exploring. If I found it, awesome, but I wasn't going to exhaust, frustrate, and second guess myself in the pursuit.
I followed a path along a stream for a while, then when the path disappeared I kept along on the side of the stream itself, only getting mildly wet feet in the process. Then the water went where I could not follow and I ended up following a now-dry stream bed, until I came to one of Mtatsminda's paved roads. I picked a direction -- right -- and set off. And within five minutes, I began to see a lot of cars parked along the side of the road.
I'd walked to Turtle Lake. Seriously, what are the odds? :)
The lake is surprisingly small; I walked around it in maybe 15 minutes at a pretty slow pace. There are paddle boats for rent, a couple playgrounds for the kiddies, and an array of restaurants and cafes of varying niceness. The place was packed with Georgians. I selected a midrange-looking cafe (the cheapest-looking one had no free tables), and rewarded my leveling up in Ranger with a beer and a ham and cheese sandwich. While staring at this. I've had worse afternoons.
Also, I got to see a pair of nuns on their day off.
Then I walked back down the mountain. Of course, following my original trail was impossible, but this time I knew I was going down and vaguely left, and found my way back to the cascade fountain without a hitch.
Turtle Lake is very pretty, and worth stopping by. However, unless you particularly want to play paddle boat chicken with Georgian teenagers, or watch them play paddle boat chicken with each other, there's not a terrible lot to do up there besides exactly what I did -- walk around the lake once and then grab something to eat. I think there is supposed to be swimming here once summer officially starts (either after school lets out, or July 1 depending on who you ask, no matter how bloody hot it is beforehand).
But I do so love crossing things off lists. Also sitting in the perfect sunshine for as long as I feel like, sipping on a cold beer and watching nuns play.
With home -- and family, and friends, and steak, and cocktails with ice -- so loomingly close, I feel like I've kind of slipped into a holding pattern. I'm no more than maybe three-fourths really here. The rest of me is already on a plane, on the porch, in Old Town, at the Smithsonian, sipping cab franc at Fabbioli Cellars.
But if there is one thing that drives me crazy, it is wasting time. So I have been trying my damnedest to make the most of these last days here in increasingly sunny Georgia. On Saturday, I crossed off another thing on the Georgia Bucket List and hiked up to Turtle Lake, hidden away up on Mtatsminda.
Several months ago, I visited Vake Park with Blair, the girl I tutor. Up behind the top of the big cascade fountain, I pointed to a path and asked if she knew where it went. She said "Turtle Lake, I think."
Intrigued by the idea of a lake hidden away up on top of a mountain, I made a mental note to check it out sometime.
As I discovered the other week when hiking up Mtatsminda to the TV tower, the mountainside does not do much boast "trails" as it does a completely un-navigable honeycomb of crisscrossing trails, paths, and occasionally even a paved road. It makes following any one path nigh impossible, so the "path to Turtle Lake" very quickly became "winding my way gradually up the mountain". I didn't have a map, not that it would have done me a rat's ass worth of good anyway. I knew I was supposed to be going vaguely up, and for some reason I had it fixed in my head that Turtle Lake was somehow "to the right" of Vake Park. So with that in mind, I just sort of shrugged and mentally switched the day's task from finding Turtle Lake to simply exploring. If I found it, awesome, but I wasn't going to exhaust, frustrate, and second guess myself in the pursuit.
I followed a path along a stream for a while, then when the path disappeared I kept along on the side of the stream itself, only getting mildly wet feet in the process. Then the water went where I could not follow and I ended up following a now-dry stream bed, until I came to one of Mtatsminda's paved roads. I picked a direction -- right -- and set off. And within five minutes, I began to see a lot of cars parked along the side of the road.
I'd walked to Turtle Lake. Seriously, what are the odds? :)
Then I walked back down the mountain. Of course, following my original trail was impossible, but this time I knew I was going down and vaguely left, and found my way back to the cascade fountain without a hitch.
Turtle Lake is very pretty, and worth stopping by. However, unless you particularly want to play paddle boat chicken with Georgian teenagers, or watch them play paddle boat chicken with each other, there's not a terrible lot to do up there besides exactly what I did -- walk around the lake once and then grab something to eat. I think there is supposed to be swimming here once summer officially starts (either after school lets out, or July 1 depending on who you ask, no matter how bloody hot it is beforehand).
But I do so love crossing things off lists. Also sitting in the perfect sunshine for as long as I feel like, sipping on a cold beer and watching nuns play.
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