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'Good luck': that's how the last Georgian road sign introduced its neighbor, 1000 meters after I passed a sign preparing us for the Azerbaijanian border. I expected that going east, countries would be found poorer and poorer, and that this process would continue until one reached Japan. Coming from No Comments |
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Hitch-hiking
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The man who, at the Armenian borderpost, offered me a spare seat in his Mercedes, drove me to Tbilisi. “Do you know a place where I can camp?” I asked tactfully. Levan thinks deeply. Then the answer I was waiting for passed his lips: “You could stay at my place. My wife won't mind.” A No Comments |
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