Sleeping late at night before walking is a chronic illness.
When I climbed Black Mountain in the Galapagos, Iraju volcano in Costa Rica, Concepcion Volcano in Nicaragua, and conquering Acatenango in Guatemala, I moved without stopping until after two hours.
The result of sad mountaineering is sweet. There is no such joy in dragging my heavy body to the ceiling and taking a bite of the sandwich I prepared, so sometimes I even think about lying down like this and shutting up my eyes
Today is no different. I read a book until 3am and then woke up. When I woke up, the sun had not yet risen over the mountain.
Unlike those people – who were still sound asleep – who made me pick up my heels and gather my bags against the dim screen light, the day of the people in the mountain village of Gergeti has already begun .
After walking for a while, a car came next to me and soon a man stuck his head out and started shouting. Judging from the way he’s waving his hands in frustration, it looks like I’ve taken the wrong path I’ll meet him on the way up anyway, but I can’t understand why which he works as if his mission was to correct his life. led
When I straighten my body, stretch out my arm, and point where the tips of his fingers are pointing, the man smiles and nods. I am very satisfied when I see the bright lights outside the raised window. It would be easier for them to follow the passenger, shout out their direction, and then leave.
On the other hand, there is no leisure in my walking, so I must work diligently from now on to reach the ice terrace before the sun goes down.
< 게오르기 츠민다 사메바 교회 >When the cock crows and the dog barks to wake up the traveler in the morning, I am already climbing the mountain. The sun is going over the ridge, and the number of cars passing me is increasing to keep up with the increasing sunlight. It was a little after 9 o’clock when I walked down the winding road and along the side road to the church.
Snowy mountains spread out behind Tsminda Sameba Church, 2,170 meters above sea level.
< 자줏빛 산 >It rises and rises again. Beyond the mountains and into the valley, beyond the valley and beyond the mountains. I sat for a moment and broke some bread, but then I lost sight of the walker in front of me.
< 조지아의 십자가는 굽어 있다. >We’ll meet each other on the way down, but now that the water has run out, my treacherous heart is burning with the loss of the one person I don’t know who will take my forgiveness for a moment and ask on me sip water
So I dug out my eyes and ate them. Along with digging and eating snow is the act of digging and eating.
The act of selling something has a strange effect because it above affects the place you left and the place you return to – the dirt, the dust, and a beautiful mouth.
There is something humbling about eating something, because it is the act of an animal that is extremely faithful to its instincts.
It may be too much to say that he wants to live, but at least, now that I have dug and chewed the snow that has fallen on the ground to quench my thirst , and my teeth are getting cold from the moving ice grains. around my mouth, I realize that my will to live has never been clearer.
The road turns around with the mountain on the left.
If I take a step to the left, the path I was following, and if I take a step to the right, I go straight to the rock. As I think about it, I suddenly realize that I did a good job of eating my eyes out.
< 다리 아래 물이 흐른다. 나에게 손짓하는 폴란드인 자매 >Before I reached the mountain hut, I filled a bottle with water from melting glaciers and drank it down. Today is the last time I prepare to go down the mountain, using the mountain lodge owner’s words as an excuse to close until the ground goes down.
< 몸을 녹인다 >I could have reached the ice cap if I climbed just one more hour, but I didn’t feel like it at all, and as I soaked my body in warm soup and talking to my Polish family, I thought it would be a good idea to stop it going down.
The mountains after sunset tend to change suddenly, and my fearful excuse is that I might take a wrong step to the left this time.
After coming this far, I promise I will come next.
So I came down the mountain. On the way down, I talked a lot with a French man, and I happened to have dinner with an Italian man who was staying in the same hotel.
My day passes without much money, eating out my eyes, drinking water, and finally quenching my thirst with lemonade given to me by an Italian man.
At the end of a generous day, the lemonade was not sweet,
The struggle of the poor traveller, who regrets it in one way or another, continues.
