I was woken up by the chirping birds.
A skein of cranes was passing above the gorge fluttering their wings. Some sheep were climbing up the rocky hill with their bells ringing. A sleepy trout splashed the water with its tail. In the distance a waterfall was hitting the rocks. Long story short – a terrible ruckus.
– Ehough alweady. – Piotrek said, finishing yesterday’s flatbreads.
– Whah, you wawa go? – Hania asked, brushing her teeth in the stream.
– Awmenia’s waiting! – Piotrek swallowed the last piece of the flatbread with tomato paste and oregano, which was supposed to remind me of the taste of Italy that I was missing so much. It didn’t have much in common with the taste of Italy, but it was good anyhow.
For the last week we had been camping in the Martvili canyon, a hidden jewel near Kutaisi. Indeed, it was high time to move on.