As I understand it, Easter is the time when most families in Georgia gather for celebration and part of that celebration is to visit the graves of those who have died. Families take a whole feast to the graveside and share the time with their deceased family members.
Not at all the ‘ It’s Sunday afternoon, we must take flowers to the cemetery’ that I remember from childhood! This can be a party with good food, wine and all the family company you might wish for. Or it can be a solitary moment of happy memories.
We saw both in our walk around two cemeteries near where we were staying.
This lady was tending a grave right at the top of the cemetery. She was happy to talk and gave us a bag containing two Paske cakes and some sweets. Apparently, it’s better to give to someone than to leave on the graves for the strays or wild animals to find and devour.
Some families, understandably, wanted to be left in peace, others were curious as to what brought us to this place. A couple were really friendly, inviting us to join them.
The first of these was a mother and daughter from Tbilisi who had come to the grave of the mother’s mother and were waiting for their relatives to arrive.
This was a fairly typical setup with a plot big enough for more family members to be laid to rest together. Cremation is not allowed in Georgia.
So they were ready with big hugs as the rest of the family arrived and the celebrations began in earnest.
A little further down the hill (no flat cemeteries here: we were hill walking all the way!) we were called over to join a family who clearly saw us as visitors to be made welcome. This was a group of at least four generations, including some younger children:
Having given us food and drink for a toast, they were keen to be photographed with even the oldest family member getting up from the step where she was safely sheltering under her umbrella came to join in. Children here will remember even their great-grandparents with traditions like this. The feast includedKhachapuri and salads and paske cake: the best paske cake I’d had so far, topped with a layer of chocolate. Each plot has it’s own table permanently in place for occasions such as this so all they had to do was bring the umbrella to keep them dry on a drizzly Easter Monday.
Strangely, it’s also St. George’s day here – who knew saints had different days in different parts of the world? – and we went to visit a very old church where there is a mural of St. George holding a dragon on a chain. We were not able to photograph it but, honestly, it looked to me like a crocodile rather than a dragon, an indication, maybe of perceptions of the day.
There was a fairly fierce nun around and as we were looking two important looking clerics arrived and made their way into the church, so I took the opportunity of a shot from outside which shows some of the very old frescos – but not the dragon.
Back to Lika’s where we fond new volunteers – cycling from France to Japan and volunteering on the way! – whom we had already met at Lelo Burti and a French man who had come to learn more about tea making as he intends to develop a tea plantation in France.
My last night in the barrel!
Living the Journey 
Enthralling!