The sand is black as anthracite. My room overlooks the sea, the doors are open, and it’s hot. Palm trees are abundant along with huge deciduous trees and large evergreen trees resembling larch some resemble white pine all growing right up to a few feet from the water. Forests and corn fields flourish within a stone’s throw of the beach. I saw banana trees planted in the courtyards of the hotels. Orange, lime and lemon trees are in small groves as well as in the residential courtyards.
The water is crystal clear. I walked the beach in the morning. This was the “Florida” of the USSR with beach resorts and rows of shops now selling Chinese trinkets. Now the hotels show signs of the Georgian economic struggles. Fading paint and unmaintained play grounds for adults and children only imply of long ago seaside fun. The Black Sea region is not so bad relative to all the neglected and pillaged structures throughout the country.
Ia and I ate herb seasoned local fish at a small thatched roofed restaurant decorated to resemble a grass beach hut. A white and brown spotted dog patiently looked over the stone wall outside the hut, but maintained eye contact with me. We handed him a piece of bread and he politely carried it away to eat. As we stepped out the entrance the dog was lying patiently as if I had told him to wait. I gave him another piece of bread which he carried some distance and ate slowly. Ia suggested walking back to the hotel on the beach and it became totally dark – especially dark with black sand. There were distant lights reflecting off the water but no light nearby. The white spotted dog appeared a few feet ahead of us contrasting to the black sand and led us to a path that led to a lighted café.
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