In a perfect world we would have taken the direct route from Tbilisi to Kars through Armenia, but relations between Turkey and Armenia are tense and the borders are closed. So we had to take the long way around — travelling to the Black Sea, then down the coast to the main Georgia–Turkey border crossing. A two-day journey with an overnight stop in Hopa, just over the Turkish border.

We had two options to reach Hopa: the more complicated train + minivan + walk across the border, or the direct big bus from Tbilisi that would supposedly drop us at the border, let us cross with our luggage, and pick us up on the other side. We chose what sounded like the easier option — the direct bus.

The ride from Tbilisi was mostly uneventful, although they stopped for an awful lot of cups of tea. We passed through pretty green countryside and saw many huge abandoned Soviet-era factories and buildings. There was also a noticeable military presence on the roads — tanks and army convoys — a constant reminder of the ongoing tensions between Georgia and Russia.

We arrived at the coast at the same time as a huge rainstorm — the first rain we had seen in weeks. When we finally reached the Georgian side of the border, we got off the bus and joined a chaotic scrum of people pushing and shoving to get inside the border building. Somehow we made it through Georgian control, collected our bags, and headed into the Turkish side as the rain began absolutely pelting down.

We cleared Turkish immigration quickly, only to step back outside into a complete downpour with no shelter. We waited… and waited… and waited. The bus finally showed up almost two hours later. By then it was dark, we were soaked, our packs were wet, and water was dripping into my shoes.

The bus dropped us in Hopa and we trudged 1.5 km to our hotel, still in the pouring rain. Hopa is very much a border town — a place to sleep, change buses, and keep moving.