Abkhazia - a hauntingly beautiful Caucasian time capsule

Friday June 20 2008

Abkhazia is one of those anachronisms left over from the end of the Cold War.

The scene of a short and bitterly violent civil war between ethnic Abkhazians and their Georgian neighbours in 1992-93 that followed the break-up of the Soviet Union, the tiny Caucasian territory bordering the Black Sea remains technically part of Georgia.

Try telling that to the Abkhazian border guards when you enter what they consider a nation state. Under the control of what used to be the Abkhaz minority – 80% of the population, mostly Georgian, fled during the war – Abkhazia today boasts a president, a national flag, border controls and the protection of Russian military peace-keeping forces.

No-one other than Russia recognizes the breakaway region and that does not necessarily please the Abkhazians who want independence not annexation. That may explain the recent introduction of its own visas – which caught me and a colleague by surprise when we entered Abkhazia early one morning recently at the Adler border point, near Sochi.

Fortunately for us – and despite the region’s catalogue of distressing human rights abuses during the civil war, particularly the massacre of Georgian civilians in the capital, Sukhumi, in September 1993 - Abkhazian border officials seem a pretty reasonable bunch: it took an hour and a half, a change of shift and a call to Sukhumi to secure entry for the day.

Despite or perhaps because of its tragic recent history, Abkhazia is hauntingly beautiful. Half deserted with the crumbling ruins of grand old villas, once fashionable restaurants and hotels, the single major road runs along the coast before cutting inland around Gagra, the first sizeable town.

A drive up into the mountains, where a kilometre above sea level Lake Ritsa sits hemmed in by snow-topped peaks, is a stunningly beautiful excursion.

Gagra retains a grace and grandeur only a little diminished by its current shabbiness. Further east the monastery of Nova Athos and nearby caves are a magnet for Russian day trippers who come by the coachload from Sochi.

Few venture as far as Sukhumi where the ghosts of ’93 still linger. The city is virtually deserted with just a few souls swimming in the clear waters off its pebble beaches where rusting hulks of abandoned ships lie drunkenly and ruined restaurants subside into the sea.

There are signs that of some reconstruction and reports that property prices have begun to appreciate as speculators sense eventual international recognition – particularly since Kosovo gained world approval for its declaration of independence from Serbia. A two room flat that would have cost a couple of thousand US dollars three years ago now sells for $80,000.

But mostly Sukhumi is weed-strewn and sad: the government building that was at the centre of the murderous rampage in September 1993 remains gutted and empty, as do many buildings throughout the city.

The selection of photos above offer a glimpse of Abkhazia in June 2008.

Recommended links on Abkhazia:

http://www.aliciapatterson.org/APF1804/Meier/Meier.html

http://travel.webshots.com/album/554247077SoqdoV