That day myself and another girl, Yana, were walking towards Bakuriani, where our hostel owner Tamara had invited us. She worked at Didveli mountain skiing center and invited us to visit. We were walking along Stalin street outside Borjomi. Surrounded by uncared-for houses we had a feeling that this place had been full of life not so long before. From the look of the street, you could say that people there lived quite modestly. I liked the way the girl was sitting by the window, reading a book — it looked like a scene from a movie.