Vashlovani Nature Reserve
The days are long and the nights are short this is my first chance to write, in the purple-gray light before dawn. We have no electricity, only the faint glow of the setting moon, and torchlight next to the blue shimmer of the computer screen.
It was very late last night when we arrived here at Vashlovani. In a few hours the sun will rise over magnificently eroded mountain slopes and canyons. Georgia is prodigal with its marvels, and the last two days have been densely packed with images, sensations, encounters.
Before we go to Vashlovani, we must see something special, says director Paata Khumarashvili when we arrived at his office in Dedoplis-Tskaro was it two days ago? He leads us on a bone-rattling car ride up a steep forested slope to the very top where a tall ridge of limestone coils between the trees. It stretches its long back like a snake, then lifts to form a tall white pinnacle of rock soaring above our heads, capped with the remains of an ancient fortress. "Khornobuji," says Paata. The City of the Sun.