July 29, 2010 Flew into Mumbai early this morning, 6:30 local time, about 4:00 Istanbul time. Didn't really matter what time it was as I hadn't slept in the Bahrain airport during our layover and other than restless bouts unable to sleep on the airplane from there to Mumbai. Picked up our luggage and queued to get our entry stamps. We passed through customs and walked by a money exchange place. The man at the counter asked us if we wanted to exchange any money. Told him we would find an ATM. He replied that the ATM was broken. Venturing on for a few more minutes we found an ATM in good working order. Welcome to India. Equipped with fistfuls of colorful Indian rupee bills we ventured through the sliding glass doors into sub continent. At seven in morning the air was already warm and sticky. We veered toward a kiosk advertising tourist information. Upon closing it we realized it was a shop selling tawdry trinkets so we changed course to stand marked prepaid taxi. I'd r

28th July 2010 Aaron and I arrived in Istanbul five days ago, after an overnight bus journey from Kobuleti, Georgia. Olegi had secured us seats on a bus from Tiblisi therefore the bus was already full when we got on and we didn't have many stops other than a slow crossing at the border. Luckily the driver kept the AC on for just long enough intervals to make it a much pleasanter journey than our last trip across Turkey, despite that several Georgians had stuffed their air vents with the curtains. Accommodation in Istanbul was more expensive than Aaron had experienced a few years ago when he visited off-peak, so we searched several hostels before deciding to try out a dorm room. The room was in the basement of the hostel and contained ten bunk-beds. In one corner of the room a window and door leading into a small yard provided daylight. During the night with the use of ear plugs and an eye mask I managed to sleep fine until I woke up by accidentally kicking someone. The bunk-be

In the photo above you can see a path going down the hill, to the right of the river. That's the path we drove up in the marshutka (minibus)! In the distance you can see the small dots of houses. There are even more houses up this road, including the one we went to supra (lunch). Olegi wearing the Guiness cowboy hat Meredith brought from Austin when she visited a few years ago.

20th July 2010 Whilst staying with Olgei and Mzia in Georgia Aaron and I went on many exciting excursiones. No, I haven't spelt that wrong 'excusione' is the Georgian word represented in the English alphabet. Aaron and I visited Kobuleti on the coast where we swam in the black sea and ate ice cream and re-visited Batumi for internet, shopping and fast food, but we didn't make it to the botanical gardens there as it rained. We also went to Khutsabani for a supra with Mzia's family one evening. However my favourite excusiones were when we travelled by foot rather than marshutka. Hiking is not a common hobby in Georgia, but there are plenty of quiet country roads connecting small villages which are ideal for the pursuit. Aaron and my first adventure was actually somewhat unintentional. We departed the house for a tour of Mukaestate and in Aaron's continuous strive to 'travel light' he persuaded me not to carry any water or provisions. After seeing the

July 15, 2010 I have returned to Mukhaestate, the village where I lived for two years during my stint in the Peace Corps. Things are very much same while at the same time different. The letter that I sent in March with our wedding invitation arrived with credit due to postal services across several continents. And upon inquiry the letter I had enclosed written in Georgian included only one mistake. I'm not sure if that's true or if my host family is just being nice. I suspect the latter. I left the Republic of Georgia nearly three years ago. My siblings, Meredith and Paul, had arrived in late August of 2007 and we had had a festive week with my host family in Mukhaestate including excursions, trips to the river and the sea, and of course many supras. Early morning in the first week of September, a large group of my friends and family from the village gathered outside my house to see us off. Olegi, my host dad, flagged down a marshrutka [passenger van used for public transp