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The moon shines into the airplane's window. Yellow and old.
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David must be really pissed off from the countless changes in my travel plan.
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I escape early to take pictures of the dilapidated houses of the neighborhood that David didn't dare to show me in daylight.
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The morning is clouded again and even the church tower wraps itself slowly in white cotton. Still no Caucasus.
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The morning is traditionally clouded. There's no-one in the hotel except for a sign in the reception that claims the price for a room for one to be 126 laris. How David made 50 laris of it, remains a mystery.
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At eight in the morning I go swimming in the sea. I can use Ülle-Riin's swim suit.
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In the morning it rains with loud thunder. Into our room among other places.
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Against all odds the sun shines in the morning. The meetings from the last day of the trip have been re-scheduled for today.
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Ülle-Riin surprises in the night with polyphonic snoring.
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Ülle-Riin disappears during the night.
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I wake up hearing the alarm and after looking around it seems that I've been quite energetic in the evening.
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In the morning I can see some blue sky from my balcony and it looks like it will be nice weather.
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The house is dead silent in the morning and wakes up only after I start moving around. Freezing cold. Teacup is very good for warming up my hands.
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After sport in the night waking up takes more time. Against all forecasts there is no kakhi spiruli but more or less clear sky. Damn.
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Rain is the biggest enemy of a tourist.
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Partly cloudy as promised. And strong wind. From the room the view is all over the city, bare mountains visible far away.
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At four in the morning Tbilis is asleep. Almost as in the "Flight from USSR" from David Turashvili. Except the hotel staff. They have to accommodate into my room some Iranians who arrived 15 minutes ago.
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