In the beginning of May 1991 I was lucky to get a package to Pitsunda, Georgia. The air flight took less than 2 hours. A small bus, which was waiting for me near the airport, took me through the picturesque little town and green shadow alleys to the place where the luxurious hotel apartment was reserved for me.

In the hotel I changed my clothes to the swim suit quickly and almost ran to the blue, with white "baa lambs", Black Sea. After I was satisfied by the cold May water, I went to watch the territory of "my" possession. I felt as a Queen. That early morning there were no people around, so I imagined it was my Kingdom. Alone, I watched "my" tartan tennis courts, clean and carefully painted by rules; "my" alcoves winded round by grape vines; "my" high and slender and strong cypresses; "my" high mountains with their tops in the mist; "my" huge bright sun and "my" deep endless sky that inter-flowed with "my" ultramarine sea. It was pleasant to take the walkway, cleaned with thoroughness. The service was great at that hotel. Good tasty food, great cleaning service and nice friendly people made my stay there extremely enjoyable.

I had full freedom to go anywhere I wanted. The roads were in excellent shape, smooth and clean. So I had ridden my bike to the city near by. In that spick and span city there were many vocation-people, well dressed up, moving lazily from one restaurant to another. It was permanent holiday in that city. You could hear laughter everywhere, see smiling faces. Happy life was flowing in that vacation paradise. I thought it would take forever, but merciless time ran quicker than usual. I left my Kingdom, taking with me the good memories, colored pictures and strong desire to come back next year.

But what had happened in the next year? I bet you wouldn't want to know! Some politics from Russia and Georgia started the war in that Earth Paradise! They closed the border, sent soldiers and arms there. They started to kill people, destroy hotels and private houses. I could not watch the TV reports from the Pitsunda without the tears in my eyes. I could not imagine that there were people who could not appreciate the beauty of mother-nature, the labor of the people who created that wonderful Paradise between the rocky mountains and disobedient sea. The harmony of nature and people was ruined.

I came to Pitsunda 4 years later by invitation of my friends who were locals and survived that war. My parents thought they would never see me again after that trip. The war was not over yet. But my desire to go there was so strong that I decided to go. There were no air flights to Pitsynda any more. So it took me 36 hours to get to Yalta, the closest city, by the train. In Yalta I spent 2 hours looking for the taxi to get to the border where my friends were waiting for me on the other side.

The driver of the taxi stopped a mile before the border, saying he is afraid to go there, because they could take his car away. "O-O!" I thought, "What a 'pleasant' trip is there for me. I hope I would not get into trouble." With the help of God I dragged my stuff to the border. Unfriendly soldiers' faces turned to me with the expression of misunderstanding. They checked my passport and my personal belongings. It was such abased procedure. "Do I look like a terrorist?" I thought. "What's wrong with you?" It was weird for me to see the border with a customhouse there, in the middle of what I thought was my country. Why were they there with Kalashnikov machine-guns, in uniform colored in green with brown spots? Why?! Why?! Why?!

My friends picked me up on their old car. I watched the view through the window. The mountains, sea and sky was at the same place. But the rest! The pavement was all in bumps and holes from the heavy military cars. Some houses, rubbed by marauders, stayed without windows, doors, roofs. They belonged to the people who left the city. There were no people on the streets, but armed soldiers. My friends explained to me that the remains of the structures on the streets came from the time when the locals built barricades to protect their villages from the military tank force.

We stopped near the Blue Lake on the way home. There were broken logs with garbage in it. A burned restaurant, where I had B.B.Q. before the war, was silent and looked scary. There were many broken cypresses and pine trees. Something bitter clotted my throat. I could not believe my eyes. I thought it was only a bad dream. Another car stopped near us. I noticed the driver had a gun under his belt. My friends said that most men wear guns there. We went home where we talked the whole night, remembering our old good time before the war. How happy we were, and how horrible to lose everything because of the war.

During the next two weeks there were no people at the August beaches. I was the only person, who came there for the vacation during that summer. The were no more luxurious hotels, tennis courts, bike riding, dances and happy people in nice holiday clothes. But fortunately the soft high sun, tender turquoise sea, deep and blue sky were infinite. They were above the war. They survived for me and for peace.