A Long time Coming.
After around 3 years of sitting on the fence about it, with never quite enough time/money/mood/gallivanting-leeway/knowledge-of-Russian, the other weekend I finally took a couple of days flying visit to Abkhazia. After a lengthy border crossing a more-or-less 24 hour timer began to count down before I needed to start making tracks back to London, and we got stuck right in to some highlights.
Sometimes it's impossible to avoid the tourist trail, and like many who have looked in to touring this seccessionist state, the sight of this particular power plant would sit right at the top of the to-do pile. At crack of dawn on a 37 celcius day we made a B-line and took a primo stroll through.
It lies in the town of Tkvarcheli - a mostly mining dominated town whose ordeals during the 92-93 Abkhaz war were amongst the most pronounced of the whole theatre. It was under heavy siege for almost a year, saw countless crossfire skirmishes between Georgian and Abkhaz paramilitaries alongside Russian mercs, and was the scene of a refugee helicopter shoot-down that exacerpated the intensity of whole conflict for all parties involved. Its gorgeous looking gas power station sustained too much war damage to keep going, and its distinctive poise has been left sentinnel, bullet holed and empty for the past 25 years.
It's actually a powerplant of two halves. The first building pictured did not perform generating, as I understand/assume. It contains large hoppers at the top of it, and presumably a lot of admin areas plus 'locker room' type facilities for the workers. On its top floor also sits the cable car docking station. Sadly no more, but this plant used to have an iconic little cable car system connecting the two 'houses' and further afield spots around the town of Tkvarcheli. The bigger building (above) is the turbine house, which contains most of the goodies...
Contents of the smaller building of the two are pack-a-punch, a bit scarce, but still quite cute.
The turbine house. Speaking for itself.
Whislt sauntering in I could hear a lot of banging, voices, and crashing about coming from further down the hall. Scoping from a vantage point, turns out there were local workers doing some sort of dismantling job on one of the turbines. Lots of smoking tabs, chucking vents off of the mezzanine, and what looked like an oven fire going on in the insides of the turbine. I made myself known, hoping they wouldn't give a shit and I would stroll through and TCOB, but after a brief echoey exchange in Russian across quite a bit of the hall's length, and a repeated insistance of 'Davai! Davai!' from the local crew, I got the message that they wanted me to get lost. So I headed upstairs instead of down the rest of the hall. Alas, could not get up close and personal with the metal machinery, but I'll be back.
The most interesting spots upstairs were some sort of chemistry lab and the rows of watt recorders.
After this, with time in mind, I headed for Akarmara, a wilting mining town further up into the mountains. Passing through stunning scenery of course, part and parcel. Akarmara is like 99% ghost town, but surprisingly I'd say (no more than) ~20 callous locals still remain living out their autumn years amidst over a dozen or so soiled and decaying apartment blocks draped over a hillside. Most are friendly. I had a brief chat with one of them who was taking his young daughter fishing. 'Ya Stalkeri!' I said, and he smiled, asked for some tabs, received 3 from me, and we shook hands. Pigs, cattle and chickens run wild and foliage has the final say in the summer months, but the atmosphere here in the general intra-building outdoor environment is divine as one would expect. Fantastical, CS Lewis kind of stuff.
What can be said for the blocks themselves - there are many to choose from, and 90% of them are generically derped out in terms of levels of preservation, but all with their own tiny little oddity some may have to look long and hard at to appreciate. Many different wallpapers, hues, relics of belongings, pots and pans, bits of woefully degraded furniture are staple features of most of them.
Some, however, are more recently abandoned than others. The mix of reasons for abandonment are quite solemn to reflect on. The older, derpier apartments may have belonged to ethnic Georgians throughout the Soviet era before they were purged and ethnically cleansed during the conflict. The less derpier ones are likely just simply the ex domiciles of miners whose economic opportunity in this town was no longer sustainable to support their family. So much left though... These two apartments are only at a glance of the whole scene.
(Photo by Kest, with permission. Mine of this apartment (a couple of floors directly above the former, and currently in slightly shabbier state than this), came out blurry. Perils of speedrunning...)
And as usual, it's worth checking every nook and cranny if you can. The best moment of the weekend might be hiding in plain sight.
Other nice moments from the 24 hours elsewhere in ABH included the facade of this villa, the sea breeze in this swimming pool, and the cliche-ay stairwell of the bombed-out old parliament.
Barely scratched the surface of this wonderland, which I'm sure will be on the come up. A lot of people expect mob rule from Abkhazia given the political situation, but I've scarcely encountered some particular locals more visually delighted to speak with a tourist from one side of the ex-USSR to the other. Anyone thinking of a trip feel free to consult me on logistics if you like.
O
After around 3 years of sitting on the fence about it, with never quite enough time/money/mood/gallivanting-leeway/knowledge-of-Russian, the other weekend I finally took a couple of days flying visit to Abkhazia. After a lengthy border crossing a more-or-less 24 hour timer began to count down before I needed to start making tracks back to London, and we got stuck right in to some highlights.
Sometimes it's impossible to avoid the tourist trail, and like many who have looked in to touring this seccessionist state, the sight of this particular power plant would sit right at the top of the to-do pile. At crack of dawn on a 37 celcius day we made a B-line and took a primo stroll through.
It lies in the town of Tkvarcheli - a mostly mining dominated town whose ordeals during the 92-93 Abkhaz war were amongst the most pronounced of the whole theatre. It was under heavy siege for almost a year, saw countless crossfire skirmishes between Georgian and Abkhaz paramilitaries alongside Russian mercs, and was the scene of a refugee helicopter shoot-down that exacerpated the intensity of whole conflict for all parties involved. Its gorgeous looking gas power station sustained too much war damage to keep going, and its distinctive poise has been left sentinnel, bullet holed and empty for the past 25 years.
It's actually a powerplant of two halves. The first building pictured did not perform generating, as I understand/assume. It contains large hoppers at the top of it, and presumably a lot of admin areas plus 'locker room' type facilities for the workers. On its top floor also sits the cable car docking station. Sadly no more, but this plant used to have an iconic little cable car system connecting the two 'houses' and further afield spots around the town of Tkvarcheli. The bigger building (above) is the turbine house, which contains most of the goodies...
Contents of the smaller building of the two are pack-a-punch, a bit scarce, but still quite cute.
The turbine house. Speaking for itself.
Whislt sauntering in I could hear a lot of banging, voices, and crashing about coming from further down the hall. Scoping from a vantage point, turns out there were local workers doing some sort of dismantling job on one of the turbines. Lots of smoking tabs, chucking vents off of the mezzanine, and what looked like an oven fire going on in the insides of the turbine. I made myself known, hoping they wouldn't give a shit and I would stroll through and TCOB, but after a brief echoey exchange in Russian across quite a bit of the hall's length, and a repeated insistance of 'Davai! Davai!' from the local crew, I got the message that they wanted me to get lost. So I headed upstairs instead of down the rest of the hall. Alas, could not get up close and personal with the metal machinery, but I'll be back.
The most interesting spots upstairs were some sort of chemistry lab and the rows of watt recorders.
After this, with time in mind, I headed for Akarmara, a wilting mining town further up into the mountains. Passing through stunning scenery of course, part and parcel. Akarmara is like 99% ghost town, but surprisingly I'd say (no more than) ~20 callous locals still remain living out their autumn years amidst over a dozen or so soiled and decaying apartment blocks draped over a hillside. Most are friendly. I had a brief chat with one of them who was taking his young daughter fishing. 'Ya Stalkeri!' I said, and he smiled, asked for some tabs, received 3 from me, and we shook hands. Pigs, cattle and chickens run wild and foliage has the final say in the summer months, but the atmosphere here in the general intra-building outdoor environment is divine as one would expect. Fantastical, CS Lewis kind of stuff.
What can be said for the blocks themselves - there are many to choose from, and 90% of them are generically derped out in terms of levels of preservation, but all with their own tiny little oddity some may have to look long and hard at to appreciate. Many different wallpapers, hues, relics of belongings, pots and pans, bits of woefully degraded furniture are staple features of most of them.
Some, however, are more recently abandoned than others. The mix of reasons for abandonment are quite solemn to reflect on. The older, derpier apartments may have belonged to ethnic Georgians throughout the Soviet era before they were purged and ethnically cleansed during the conflict. The less derpier ones are likely just simply the ex domiciles of miners whose economic opportunity in this town was no longer sustainable to support their family. So much left though... These two apartments are only at a glance of the whole scene.
(Photo by Kest, with permission. Mine of this apartment (a couple of floors directly above the former, and currently in slightly shabbier state than this), came out blurry. Perils of speedrunning...)
And as usual, it's worth checking every nook and cranny if you can. The best moment of the weekend might be hiding in plain sight.
Other nice moments from the 24 hours elsewhere in ABH included the facade of this villa, the sea breeze in this swimming pool, and the cliche-ay stairwell of the bombed-out old parliament.
Barely scratched the surface of this wonderland, which I'm sure will be on the come up. A lot of people expect mob rule from Abkhazia given the political situation, but I've scarcely encountered some particular locals more visually delighted to speak with a tourist from one side of the ex-USSR to the other. Anyone thinking of a trip feel free to consult me on logistics if you like.
O
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