“Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.”
The hostel we worked at in Tblisi brought me back to my time backpacking through South America few years ago. Unlike the more elegant guest house we worked at when we first arrived in Georgia, this large and busy hostel was filled with the younger “backpacker” type rather than the 40+ year old two-week vacationers. Though Kevin immediately labeled the place as “too hippy” (possibly because we had to take off our shoes at the entrance or because the person working there had flaming red hair and liked to juggle) we both quickly found it to be a wonderful place to meet like-minded travelers (including a hitchhiking solo female and two other cycle tourists) and cook a whole lot of food in a kitchen.