... I packed my rucksack, took a bottle of spring-water, turned on a song and walked away. I left our camp, where we were living with my girlfriend, her mother and her uncle, behind. Not saying a word.
It was a narrow dusty road with no human walking there. I heard the river crash into stones somewhere in the valley’s depth. On the left I saw a great green wall of a little mountain. First in my life I was wondering in the unknown place. I was into the wild. Alone.
A city chap, who had never been to a forest, who had lived in the brick jungles, who’d taken a car or a taxi to get to the place, now was into the wildlife, and it would have taken a couple of hours to get to the closest village. But there was a farm – the day before I was given some money to buy pair milk and white cheese. When I came to the farm, I was met by three angry dogs. There was no human. Having spent an hour, I decided to come another time and went off.
The day before, being a chain smoker, I asked a guy, bearing to the closest city on the off-roader, to buy me a pack of cigarettes. When he came back, I found out that I gave him all money I had. It was not the best idea to cry over spilt milk because I was supposed to have given up smoking.
I was walking down the road, thinking of the way out of this trouble. I was playing zany, hoping to find ATM amid the woodlands.
Suddenly, I saw a vehicle. It was an old soviet track with an open body. Five bearded men were staring at me. I saw those warrior faces, knowing no mercy. I was scared to death. I saw a submachine gun in one of those hands I was afraid of. As the track moved closer and closer, I was thinking of possible escape variants.
In those lands, there has been an old war conflict between two nations, living on one territory. And they have been killing each other for centuries. But I was a total stranger, solemn and lost.
“Jump into the river. No, no way, it’s too damn high, I would break my legs. I ain’t climb into the mountainside, it’s too steep”. I was caught between two stools. I stood motionless, my spirits sank. Having pulled up to me, the truck had slowed down.
It was a load off my mind, when the driver told me with a smile on his face “Good morning!” Other guys waved their arms at me. And the vehicle disappeared over the trees.
I lighted up a cigarette, having too many thoughts of what just had happened. And what might happen. I had stubbed out a loosey and moved further. Ahead there was a nice glade, surrounded with hillocks, with a bridge over the river, made of two logs and small planks. The road was mounting up. It was only twenty-twenty five miles to Georgia border, and the road had its dead-end on the border’s field fortification. Thereabout was the mountain with its unusual name “The Cross”. Nevertheless there was a high grade, I decided to find this mountain.
On the right I saw a tiny chapel, which seemed to be abandoned. Dozen foots had to be made to rich an endless cobbled ladder. And a thousand deep-drawn sighs had to be given to rich its final point – the alp. I could feel pain-chest, scrambling higher and higher. I was on my way out.
With my last bit of strength I climbed onto the mountain and from behind the hill I saw a wooden crucifix about three meters height. There was a small grotto in the rock, which looked like an open bureau. Inside of it, there was a burning taper scattered with coins and hard cash. I stepped up to the cross and set down nearby.
I was sitting there for hours, shooting everything I saw, thinking of my life, watching the sky and nature and enjoying solitude.
I came up with an idea to... borrow money from this grotto. Not all the sum, but the sum which I had to pay for pair milk and white cheese. The farm was a short step away and I had time to go there before the dark. At least, I supposed so. I had never stolen anything before. But this time I made a reach for money and took it.
On my way down I met a man, pilgrimaging to the crucifixion. He knew nothing about my misdeed.
“Good evening. What are you doing here?” – he said with winsome smile, but I walked further mumbling “Just taking some pictures”.
When I got back to the dusty road, I made up my mind to run, because the sun began to set down.
From behind the forest I saw the peasant’s log hut of the farm and a car. Having come closer, I saw a middle-age man and his wife. I supposed them to be poor, but happy. Their filthy clothes were worn out. The man leased one of those angry yapping dogs and asked me to come into their house. “We’ve been told that you have to come. Did you come yesterday?” – he said.
I reply, that I had come the day before and didn’t find anyone, but dogs.
“Sorry for this little misunderstanding. We were shepherding up in the mountains. I’ll bring your cheese in a minute’. He bowed his assent, looking at his wife, and she popped off. After a while she came with a package and gave it to me. I had had it backpacked. I put forth money that I hold in my hand, but they didn’t want me to pay. I said: “Take it, please”. But they insisted that it was for free. “You came yesterday and it is our fault that we were away. We deem it our duty to give you it for free. You should go now. It’s getting dark.”
When I’ve returned to the city, I continued my humdrum existence. One day I saw a homeless man and I recollected this story. I went to a shop and bought him some food. Another day I gave all cash I had to an old lady, whom I met on the street. I am not a religious fellow, and even now I don’t know, whether it is thievery or not, because those money in the mountains is useless. Either it will be swept out, or taken by another stranger...
I can’t say that it has totally changed my life, but I guess it was my “Travel Treasure”.
