Onwards to Mereta Yayala

Our plan had been to travel to Papart and then onto Mereta Yayala via Meydancik but I will never know if that's how we traveled. Hassan was intent on getting to the next base swiftly while we behaved like innocent children making coos and ahhs at the every glorious sight we encountered. The truth is we had all seen similar countryside but it is always a joy to discover life anew in another country. We had lost half the day while the road had been fixed ,Hassan and Mavlute wanted to get us to our next destination before sundown so time was not on our side . The following images are an illustration of the wonderful world we encountered along the way to Mereta but nothing to what we were about to discover once we arrived in Macahel and beyond.

Our trail made its way through the mountains down to the valleys below . You can pick out a white similar to ours on the corner of the road above.

Amazingly this Christan chapel was build for nuns on the very edge of the precipice . I find it hard to believe but I understand Nuns lived here. Look harder and you can see, failing that click on the picture .

Further down the valley we came upon these magnificent farmsteads hugging the mountainside and surveying the valley before them . Just glorious .

The view down the valley was a sight to behold . An abundance of rich vegetation cradled in the valley by the mountains either side.

Once we reached the river below and a main road around the mountains we came across a great vegetable and fruit street market, similar to many we have encountered in Eastern Europe.

We arrived late in the day with the mountain mists descending fast . Our host ,who did not have mobile phones, had given up on us and presumed we were never coming . Within minutes they had the stove fired up and supper was served to a welcome audience. It had been a long day and the old folks looking after us were glad their cooking wasn't going to waste and so were we.

The stove in the sitting room grew hot immediately warming a chilly room within minutes we we all felt at home, warm as toast.

In the morning the ever present mountain mists took a while to clear as our neighbor wash her cloths on the balcony.

The houses in Mereta slowly took shape as the mists cleared.

With the weather clearing Mereta took on a simple unadulterated quality, untouched by the outside world and innocent of commercial greed.

With the sun out the Mereta homes looked as if they came from the wild west at the turn of the 19th century.

The cows in Mereta were particularly attractive decked in their headdresses , all ready for a party.

Before we left for the last leg of our journey to Macahel, Hassan took us for walk up the valley .The mists descended once again but Mavlute introduced us to a game, popping the stalks of a local plant.

These are the two sweet ladies who looked after us during our brief stay in Mereta Yayala.

It was time to leave Mereta. A short stay and I wonder what it would have been like if we had stayed for longer. The pace of life was gentle and beguiling but the mists were oppressive and I'm not sure if I liked this land of mysterious mists even if the cows were beautiful . Our next trip was Camile ,the main village in Macahel. Things were about to change and the pace of our journey was to be very different indeed.