Crossing borders diplomatic style and more dental work

Steve, the British Defence Attache, offered us a lift from Yerevan back to Tbilisi. Needless to say we nearly bit his arm off and were perfectly happy to fit in with his work plans. His chauffeur picked us up, with our grubby backpacks, in his plush Range Rover, outside the British Embassy. It was sleeting as we left Yerevan and the low cloud was reducing visibility on the high passes. I was glad to be in a vehicle which would have passed an MOT, and sat back and relaxed in the leather seat. This was beyond doubt the most luxurious mode of transport we had experienced on our trip. But the best was yet to come.

At the Armenia/Georgia border we experienced border crossings diplomatic style. This consisted of driving to the front of the queue (a Range Rover has no problems mounting the curb and using the pavement), hand passports to the driver, wait for driver to get them stamped and then proceed whilst trying to avoid eye contact with those in the queue scowling at you - knowing full well that the next time I crossed the border I would the one scowling in the queue.

Back in Tbilisi I had to face yet another dental appointment. My dental 'episodes', as James liked to call them, had been numerous, and too long to transgress here. This particular episode had actually started in Nepal on Day 10 of our trek when I cracked a molar but then had been made worse by the Tajikistan episode and now I couldn't ignore it any longer. I knew I had found a good dentist to do the work in Georgia when I noticed that the American Ambassador had the appointment after mine - an American wouldn't just go to any dentist surely?

I needed another root canal and unfortunately this meant lots of injections. The dentist found it very difficult to inject the correct spot to numb the pain and I must have had over 20 injections. The reason for this difficulty was apparently due to me having elderly teeth! Something related to the location of the injection needing to be different for elderly people. I was not quite sure what was more annoying, the resultant bruise on my left jaw or being told that I had elderly teeth.

During the week of dental appointments I developed a sty on my left eye. This resulted in the eyelid swelling up all red. I now had a bruise on my left jaw and a swollen left eye. I looked in a terrible state, and James was embarrassed to be seen with me, thinking that people may have thought that he caused it. Luckily Steve had invited us to stay at his house so I could recover whilst watching the BBC. However, it did mean an emotional goodbye to the Why Not? Hostel cats who I had got a soft spot for.

In between dental appointments James and I managed to fit in a day trip out to Mtskheta (Georgians like strings consonants together). Just north of Tbilisi and a short marshrutka ride away, Mtskheta is one of the oldest town in Georgia and for this it became a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1994. At its centre is the Svetitskhoveli Cathedral, where I donned a headscarf to take a look around. Mtskheta is also famous its   lobio a hearty bean dish cooked in a clay pot. It was another bitterly cold day, although the sun was shining, and we were glad of the piping hot, filling meal before heading back to Tbilisi.

These were our last few days in Georgia and we were soon to head off on our last journey, west, towards Turkey.

Murky weather on the drive from Armenia to Georgia

Tbilisi in the sun

Mother Georgia - the statue overlooking Tbilisi

Inside the Svetitskhoveli Cathedral, Mtskheta

Woman waits outside the Svetitskhoveli Cathedral, Mtskheta

Princess Diana and Dentists in Dushanbe

James peered into my mouth as the dentist was explaining something to him in Russian, as soon as he saw my tooth he reeled in horror. This is not the reassurance that is needed when you are having to have some major dental work on the other side of the world.

The tooth ache had started a week ago when a filling had fallen out and I had been trying to ignore it. Each day the pain would gradually build until it was too painfully to sleep and I had to resort to strong pain killers. I was going to have to see a dentist. I phoned my insurance company to find out what I would need to claim for the treatment. As I explained the situation to the person at the other end of the phone I could hear an audible gulp when I mentioned I was in Tajikistan. "Are you in...........the capital?" he replied "Yes, in Dushanbe" I said helping him out.

We had arrived in Dushanbe from Khorog which was a gruelling jeep ride through the Pamirs. We'd heard horror stories of it taking 22 hours, so were expecting the worst. For the first four hours or so the road (read dirty track at best) follows the Afghan border, through a gorge and beside the Oxus River. At one point we noticed a crane parked at the side of the road. In the river two back wheels of an upturned car were all that could be seen of the wreckage. The scenery changed suddenly as we crossed the pass to Dushanbe and we cruised into town after only 13 hours on the road. We had shared the jeep with a Tajik family who had done the trip from Murghab in a oner (2 days on the road) and a Belgium backpacker, Mio, who we had met in the homestay in Khorog. One of the Tajik women spent the entire journey discretely vomiting into a plastic bag and then throwing it out of the jeep window. On arrival in Dushanbe we celebrated with Mio in 'beer square', a collection of make shift outdoor bars around a fountain outside the Opera House, busy with locals. We soon discovered the local beer SimSim and, with two Australian backpackers, Ned and Morgan, we became regulars there.

Dushanbe with the huge Tajik flag dominating the skyline

I ended up needing 3 dental appointments over a week for a root canal and filling and was a little worried about the final bill, however it ended up totalling $60, so therefore didn't curtail the SimSim drinking. In between dental work James and I spent our time filling out forms in various embassies for the next round of visa applications.

Unfortunately accommodation wasn't as cheap as dentistry in Dushanbe but a local couchsurfer came to the rescue. Despite going on holiday the evening we arrived, Ryan, gave us the keys to his flat. It was wonderful to have a homely little place to go back to after several hours in the dentist's chair.

Whilst hanging around in Dushanbe I also thought I would get my haircut. I was very tempted by the Princess Diana Salon but decided that I didn't actually want a Princess Diana cut so headed to a less fancy place. Life in Dushanbe is beyond laid back so it was very easy to slip into a routine of doing not a lot. The impending expiry of our Tajik visas got us moving again.

 Me with local Tajik women in Dushanbe. The women are wearing the typical 'nightdress' and featuring 'strong' eyebrows