The First in a Series of Unfortunate Events
2 August, 2012; 00:19
Today was easily our worst, or at the very least, the most trying of our patience and traveling skills. Our intinerary was originally set with an early departure from Tbilisi followed by a 600 km drive to Baku in Azerbaijan, planning to arrive around 7 or 8 in the evening. As it stands now, it is about half past midnight and the last sign we saw told us we had around 400 km left for the night.
Our troubles began in as inocuous and unavoidable way as possible. Chase, having accidentaly ordered an extra spicy version of stuffed bread last night, woke with moderate to severe problems of an intestinal nature. This coupled with a less than stellar night’s sleep put us on the road around 11 instead of 8 (though, we honest only said 8 in hopes it would spur us out around 9).
Despite the concerns of being so far behind schedule, we enjoyed a fairly prolonged departure saying goodbye to our most interesting and amiable fellows at the hostel. Bachram, an Iranian hippy, Pierre, the a Frenchman who travels 4-6 months every year as a hitchiker, a Japanese man we watched the olympic weightlifting competitions with (we called him Nagano, but none of us can remember his real name; he didn’t mind), and Tamana, the night hostess at the hostel, all came out to sign our car and wish us well. We exchanged email and Facebook information, and for once, I fully expect I’ll keep in touch with friends I met on a trip.
The Hotel Romantik was flooded for our time there, as another local hostel owned by the same man was sending most of their overflow guests to our lesser known oasis. What separated our most preferred circle is hard to say, but it was similar in nature to that which distinguishes the individual souls sitting at the bar from the closed groups preferring