The Middle of the Road

The highway from the Georgian capital to the Black Sea resort of Batumi is patterned by skid marks, many of which leave the road. Luckily, we didn't add to them this morning. I arrived at the bus station early and got a seat on a Ford Transit van. The best seats are at the front, by the driver. Despite my best efforts I wasn't able to persuade the bus manager to let me sit there, even though I was the first passenger to arrive. When I asked why, he made a strange sign with his left forearm. I pondered this for a while, from the bowels of the vehicle. After half an hour the bus had almost filled up and the engine was revving to go. Suddenly an elegant, tanned, 20-something blonde woman appeared out of nowhere and slipped into the seat by the driver. I am starting to know my place in this country.

The Lonely Planet guidebook says that driving standards are poor in Georgia; another way to look at it is that the drivers are unusually skilled at coping with everyone else on the road. The most important trick is knowing how to overtake. At 70 miles an hour our driver was often barely more than a metre behind the lorry in front, edging out looking for an opportunity. The second most important trick is knowing how to avoid cars overtaking from the opposite direction. Nominally, lanes are painted on the road and Georgians drive on the right, but in reality everything is up for negotiation. The third most important trick is being able to anticipate the movements of the many cows and dogs who live and socialise on the motorway.

Batumi is a humid container port on the Black Sea. There are as many gambling dens in the city centre as there are Starbucks back home. Some are full of one-armed bandits but are usually empty of customers; others are full of middle-aged men watching and betting on football matches. There are lots of dubious looking poker clubs - I haven't yet dared to step inside, although there is one right opposite this internet cafe...