One Day in the Land of the Soul - Abkhazia

We all want everything at once. But the reality is that you often have to compromise and stop at one thing. Between travel and things, I try to choose the former. Any new product sooner or later ends its expiration date, and the memories of the trip remain with you forever (or before sclerosis begins).

It has been almost 6 years, but I still vividly remember the August day of 2010, which I spent in Abkhazia. The last summer season in the Sochi children’s boarding house where I worked at that time came to an end, and we decided to go on a tour together with our colleagues.

Even before we made our first stop and began to get acquainted with the history of this republic, she greeted us through the bus window. We seem to have moved away not so far from the usual Sochi, but as if we were in another world. Such colors can not be even the most brilliant artist, they can be found only in the palette of nature. And to paint Abkhazia, it seems not stingy on rich, juicy and rich shades.

The brightest color I have ever seen is the color of Blue Lake. The pictures, unfortunately, cannot convey what the eyes saw. A small pond rested at the feet of the rock, surrounded on all sides by bushes like a fence. A magical spring gleaming in the rays of the sun changed its color from turquoise to blue, welcomingly inviting you to swim and cool down. But alas! As the guide explained to us, the temperature differences between the hot air and the icy water (to which the lake owes its hidden from the eyes of onlookers) are so large that it can cause a bather to have a heart attack. What injustice! Suppressing the temptation to dive headlong, I would like to sit in the shadows for a little while while contemplating the hypnotic water, but we have to go. Abkhazia has many more places to show us.

Next stop is Stalin's dacha. Historic buildings impress me doubly. There is something exciting about seeing with your own eyes the places you have read about, where great events have taken place and legendary people have lived. The figure of Joseph Vissarionovich is quite controversial, but I am not going to write about him. Just a few words about furniture made of fabulously expensive boxwood, alarming buttons in each room, a personal cinema ... and the surf strip - white near the shore and gradually turning into a deep blue halfway to the horizon ... It's been 7 years, and I'm ready to admit that I stole a lemon that fell from a tree near that cottage. It is a pity that he did not get home, and I could not grow from his seed a living reminder of this journey.

Sea view from Stalin's dacha

A journey of contrasts. We plunged into history and immediately after into the depths of the sea. It is amazing how much the Black Sea is. In Sochi, I remember him dirty and unpleasant. And in Pitsunda, the second Adriatic. The pebbles, affectionate as sand, the beach associated with the word "cozy" and even the waves there seemed gentler. That sounds biased, and I repent - yes, it is. I fell in love with Pitsunda.

The impressions we received were very intense, but the body also needed to be saturated. It was time for lunch and near Lake Ritsa (which was also beautiful, but not like Blue), we got acquainted with Abkhazian cuisine. Deliciously cooked meat, spicy cabbage, beans, a piece of local cheese and mamalyg. And, of course, the famous local wine. We're on vacation, so we can have a drink in the middle of the day.

The last point of our tour is Athos. Three in one. Here we continued to taste the local wine (without forgetting the measure), visited the local monastery, the landscape around which really suggested thoughts of the great and hidden. And finally, we got the long-awaited coolness that we had dreamed of since the morning. The temperature on the street is about 35, we did not go into the room with air conditioning, but we pulled sweatshirts. Why? Because we went down to the New Athos Caves. Stalactites, stalagmites... music! Yes, the music that was the perfect backdrop for our underground walk. Looking left and right at the amazing natural sculptures, I found myself thinking that I wouldn’t be surprised if we came across Tom Sawyer and Becky Thatcher at the turn.

New Athos Monastery

It was an unforgettable day that was coming to an end. While we take our seats on the buses that will take us back to Adler, I can only add that Abkhazians call their country Absny. Soul. Personally, I don’t have to ask why. I think it makes sense.

Author of text and photo: Maria Bykova