About Me

I'm the thing that's not like the others.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Aug. 30 - The Mexican Adventure

Today I woke up around 8:30. I was still really tired, but couldn’t get comfortable on my strip of bed, so I got up, leaving A and S asleep. I used the quiet time to check my e-mail and update facebook. I was in the process of updating the blog when A woke up. She joined me in the sitting room and read a book while I finished up with the computer. It was almost 10 when S dragged herself from bed.
Before heading down to breakfast, we chatted a bit. Eventually, we got tired of gossiping and decided to eat. The girls were enthralled with pb and honey on bread for breakfast. I like it too, but I would love a bowl of Mini Wheats. Since no one was around, we actually got to tidy up and do our own dishes, before coming back upstairs.
S and I decided that A needed to see rebel tv, so we hunkered down in our pj’s to watch. Today’s selection was even more odd than yesterdays. There was a gothic/ satanic 80's-style pop video by an artist called Goldfrapp and an interesting commentary on socialites (like Paris Hilton) by Amy MacDonald (I think). There was also the weird Polish clown video. Again. Once they started repeating videos, we decided to go to the pool.
At the pool, we swam a little, gossiped a little and got to talking about food that we miss from home. Since there is a Mexican restaurant in Batumi, we decided to go there. Mission accepted, we changed and got ready to go.
By the time we got to Kobuleti, A had decided to bail, but S and I were still going strong. On the marshrutka to Batumi, we texted everyone in the area to come, but W was the only taker. While we waited to meet him, we went into the Goodwill, where I bought peach tea and chocolate, strawberry Special K. I am very excited.
Once we had collected W, the three of us found a cab to go to the restaurant. Of course, the cabbie had no idea where it was, because he couldn’t read the English-written address in the guidebook. So before we could go he asked several of his friends if they knew the way. Finally I tried to pronounce the street name and they understood that, so we were underway.
Actually finding the restaurant was another adventure. None of the buildings were numbered, and we couldn’t see the restaurant name anywhere. The cabby randomly pulled over and stopped 3 different times to get out and ask at businesses if they knew where this restaurant was. Finally W remembered that our guidebook had a phone number for the place. So we called and had the cabby talk to the people. Luckily we were close enough that we could get out and walk. Turns out the Azteca is inside a hotel called Marina, which is the only name on the sign.
We should have taken how difficult it was to get there as a sign, but we didn’t. We’d come for Mexican food and by God we were going to get Mexican food. And we did. Kind of. What we got was Mexican food, Georgian-style.
First off, the menu was in Georgian and Russian. No English. Our waiter spoke barely more English than I speak Georgian (and I was the most fluent one there). Out of the entire 8 page menu, 1 page and 1 salad were "Mexican". The rest was Georgian. On the "Mexican" page there were no nachos, tacos, burritos, fajitas or quesadillas. We all ended up with dishes that may have been fajita filling (except for mine, which had the chicken still on the bone), but no shells. It was sauteed Georgian food, with more mushrooms and onions. The only thing even close to authentic was the margarita. It was tequila, lime and salt. I don’t think they had Triple Sec and it definitely wasn’t blended, but it was the closest thing there.
Stuffed from our fake Mexican dinner, we walked in the direction of the marshrutka/ bus stop. Since S was going home, we walked with her until our paths diverged and then W and I took a cab the rest of the way. We were waiting for a marshrutka when the bus to Kobuleti came, so we hopped on. When W got off in Chakvi he sent me a text to tell me that they’d charged him more than usual. Since I’d been expecting to pay 2 lari (GEL), I asked before I got off how much. I didn’t hear the driver and when he repeated himself about 5 different people all gave me different answers in English. When I was confused, the driver just waved me off the bus and wouldn’t let me pay anything.
The guy in front of me obviously thought that I needed help, because he asked me all the regular questions about where I was staying and who my family were. Then he personally walked me over to the bank of cabs and spoke to several drivers before finding one that he felt was suitable to take me home. He stuck with me ‘til I was in the car and then said good bye and left.
Finally at home, I talked to K in Mestia and texted with a few other people. Then J called from home and we swapped weekend stories. The call cut out and I don’t know if it was her phone or mine. Done on the phone I hung out for a bit in the TV room with the family, before retreating to my room for bed.

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