Batumi, Georgia – Hopa Camping, Turkey – 30 km
The road south from Batumi was quiet, the sea to my right, the hills to my left,
and the border drawing closer with every turn of the wheel. Fifteen kilometres
out, I came upon the Gonio Fortress—a massive stone structure that seemed to
rise from the earth itself, its walls thick with centuries.
I parked my bike and wandered inside, eager to learn more. Gonio, once known
as Apsaros or Apsyrtus, was built by the Romans between the first and third
centuries as a military outpost. But it was more than a garrison. Archaeologists
have uncovered remnants of a theatre and hippodrome, water and sewerage
canals, and two Roman baths with underfloor heating—boiler rooms connected
by narrow tunnels. It was a town, a hub, a place of life.
Some believe the grave of Saint Matthias, one of the twelve apostles, lies within
the fortress walls. Excavation near the site is restricted, the mystery preserved. I
stood near the centre, imagining Roman soldiers, traders, priests, and pilgrims.
The Byzantines fortified it further in the sixth and seventh centuries. The
Ottomans captured it in 1547, transforming it into a trade centre and slave
market. It remained under their control until the Treaty of San Stefano in 1878,
when it was ceded to the Russian Empire.
The stones whispered all of it. I lingered longer than planned, then crossed the
border into Turkey. The transition was smooth, almost anticlimactic. A few
stamps, a few questions, and I was through. Just beyond the checkpoint, I
spotted a campsite nestled beside the water. I hadn’t tested my gear in a while,
and the spot felt right—quiet, shaded, with a small restaurant nearby.