Paranormal visit to the Consulate or preparing to return.

To go home to Eilat, to Israel, we needed a request to the army for the son about his military status. But apparently some of our energy-informational component was clearly against our return, or generally against any reasonable actions, and almost all of our calls related to returning to Israel were blocked or answered by fakes. But we were determined to return …

Having suffered a fiasco when trying to get an appointment to the Consulate via e-mail, we decided to try to make an appointment to the Consulate, using the phone number of the owner of the rented apartment, Thomas D.
And they kind of invited us for October 12 at noon.

“Good morning, Yaron. Get up, dear! Soon our train to Tiflis, it’s time to get ready.
The weather is good, 3 miles to the train station is just a great warm-up in the morning.”

“Hello Maayan. Of course.”

The walk to the train station, most of which was along the Black Sea coast, was pleasant. Moreover, fortunately, it was one of the infrequent days in Batumi, when precipitation was not even planned and we had plenty of admiring the panoramic view of the city center that opened before us,

heading for the train to Tiflis.

“Doesn’t it look like an Israeli one, Yaron? The same two-story, just white, not red.”

“Yes, there is such.”

“Well, five and a half hours have passed, Yaron. It’s so tiring to sit for so long against the traffic, and, moreover, in this mask, the presence of which on the face is always checked by a railroad employee. But what can we do here? Apparently, we are already approaching.”

This is how our second meet and acquaintance with the capital of Georgia took place.

“Yes, Yaron, you immediately feel that this is a big city – the streets are crowded. And unlike Batumi, it seems like a fresh wind of change is blowing and there are many more sunny days.”

Tbilisi is a beautiful, original city with its own charm – it is surrounded by rather high green mountains and is divided by the Kura River into two parts. The tirelessly throbbing heart of the city is the waterfall near the former Roman baths.

A beautifully illuminated TV tower at the top of the mountain attracts attention

and a large number of monuments, as if rising up into the mountains,

as well as many flirty metal figures of people sitting on the bridge over the Kura, or just somewhere in an unexpected place.

And also its originality is in unusual carved wicker wooden balconies and sympathetic sociable people.

“Maayan, will we go to the same hostel to Alex and David with chacha hand disinfection?”

“Of course, it’s generally quite good there, quite clean and inexpensive. And it is located quite conveniently in the center on Zurab Klvlevidze Street.
This is a two-story, but picturesque and somewhat cozy old building behind a metal gate, in which you feel at home. Although the rooms in the hostel are without windows, there are three large constantly ajar windows in the kitchen and at the entrance.

“Yaron, do you remember how we climbed out there last time through one of them?”

“Of course. It was funny.”

Another feature of the hostel is a permanent worker on duty there – David, a small, traditional Georgian-looking, benevolent man, who somehow magically appears when the front door is opened with an invariable sprinkler with chacha in his hands and a traditional phrase.

“The coronavirus is still raging. Let me disinfect your hands and your front door handle. Thank you! Have a nice day!”

“Thank you! Yaron, let’s leave our things here in the hostel and let’s go look for the Consulate of Israel.”

“We need 154 Agmaneshenabeli Avenue, 150 Agmaneshenabeli Avenue, somewhere across the house there should be a Consulate, we must probably cross the road … But there is already house 160, and where have 10 more houses gone?
As usual, everything is not so simple.
There is a security guard in the building nearby, need to ask him.”

“Thank you very much! How kind it was to see us off. Otherwise we would have looked for a long time. The house is so inconspicuous, it stands in the courtyard and its number is not 154, but 152.
Come on, Yaron, we’ll come early tomorrow at 9-10 am.”

“But Maayan, we have an appointment at the Consulate at 12:30.”

“Do you believe that it is, Yaron?”

“Yes, of course, we made an appointment from Thomas’s phone, he dialed the number himself, it wasn’t supposed to be a fake conversation.”

“So what? I, frankly, am sure that there is not this appointment.”

“Okay. You haven’t convinced me, Maayan, but let’s get out early. For anything happening, let’s take a walk.”

“Good morning, Yaron! Breakfast is on the table. Let’s go find out the real situation and we must make every effort to actually make an appointment.”

“I’m on my way, Maayan.”

“No, you are not on the lists for today. Make it by phone. And you don’t have to come here” — the guard at the Consulate told us.

“But we can’t make an appointment over the phone.”

“Why? I’ll give you the exact and correct number and you will call and make an appointment”

“Sorry, we cannot make it. We have already tried many times and called twice from the phone of the owner of the apartment we are renting. He can confirm that his name is Thomas D. and he lives on Vazhafshavela street … in Batumi, but as you can see, there is no appointment. Please, do for us.”

“No, this is not according to the rules. You yourself must call and make an appointment. And then the Consulate will call you back to find out the essence of the issue you are addressing.”

“Please write us down, otherwise we will never get home, we will have to wander around the streets of Georgia as illegal immigrants.
Please make an appointment!!!”

“What did you want? Maybe I can help you?” — asked a nice young man who came down the stairs with regular features and a Georgian type of appearance.

Will be continued…


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