I awake on my first morning in Tbilisi, Georgia excited at exploring all that my First Impressions promise. My travel companion, Diana, has arrived during the night and despite a restless sleep, I only doze a little before being ready to hit the town, so to speak.
We organise ourselves and descend to the beautifully art deco inspired breakfast room with equally beautiful (and delicious) breakfast offerings. The outdoor terrace offers equal parts sun and shade and we choose a table in the dappled sunlight to take our breakfast and plan the day.
We’re both fairly happy with the idea of setting out through the old town, exploring the fort and perhaps checking out a museum or two followed by a bath, scrub and soak before dinner.
We set out, firstly taking some obligatory balancing photos in front of the Casino and pausing to greet another statue or two. Next stop is the clock tower, much less crowded at this time of the morning. We continue along the cobbled streets ducking our heads into shops and churches that tickle our fancy as well as a much needed ‘real’ cup of coffee, the Americano served at the hotel breakfast being the only thing lacking from the otherwise quality offerings.
Moving on, Di finds a little hole in the wall apoteke (pharmacy) to pick up a couple of essentials while I step in behind her to behold a wall of herbal remedies and the wonderful aromas to match.
We weave our way down to the sulphur baths and descend the steep steps to check out the little sulphur creek that runs through, the smell wafting gently through the warm morning air. As we follow the path around the back of the Chreli Abano bath house with its azure tiled front, albeit on the other side of the creek, we discover a little way along, the love lock bridge and a little further along again, the Dzveli Tbilisi Sulphur Waterfall.
A peacock that we had seen being walked past (on the arm of presumed owner) a little earlier is perched on the balustrade where people are taking photos. We take our shots of the said waterfall and make our way back, passing a monkey (riding on a man’s shoulder) and a large green parrot of some kind (on a different shoulder of a different person), presumably destined to join the peacock in paid photo shoots. I decline to shake the monkey’s hand as much as for not particularly agreeing with the concept as for not wanting to be charged for the pleasure. Di disagrees and during the resulting discussion we ascend a rickety set of spiral stairs from near the lock bridge up to somewhere near the entrance to the fort. We pause to admire the views along the way.
There are some signposts pointing various ways to various sights in Tbilisi although we find these are not necessarily reliable nor useful. After the climb to what looks like it should be the entrance to the fortress we are immediately set upon by an old lady settling souvenirs. She is speaking either Georgian or Russian (everyone here presumes that I’m Russian) and bombards us. I probably would have bought something given time to browse but as it is we are essentially scared away and then continue to be chased down.
We wander off and as she chases down the next unsuspecting tourists we duck past and up the driveway that may or may not lead to where we want to go. As we near the top a car is making its way down and I wander for a second if this is proviate property until I see the telltale icecream umbrella and people sitting around with bottles of water. I turn the corner and Narikala (St. Nicolas) Church is in front of me, the top of the fort up behind it, still somewhat of a climb away.
We cover our heads and step into the darkness of the church, I have to wait a minute for my eyes to adjust from the brightness of outside. There are no photos allowed but it’s cool and quiet and we pause for a few moments to take in the biblical scenes and religious decoration. Back outside we snap shots of the views and climb the ruins of the fortress to as high as we dare to go.
Back down the driveway we take a path across, rather than down, the hill quizically marked “Kartlis Deda”. A few more steps and we’re at the top of the chairlift with the botanic gardens liad out down into the ravine and up the other side. Presumably the waterfall we saw earlie ris down there somewhere. From here we can see that the path leads on to Kartlis Deda – the mother of Georgia statute, a giant aluminium statute of a woman in traditional Georgian dress, holding a bowl of wine for those who come as friends and a sword for those who come as enemies. She was erected on Sololaki hill to celebrate Tbilisi’s 1500th anniversary in 1958.
Having walked up we decide to take the easy way out descending via the chairlift which takes us right down to Rika Park, over the other side of the river. We’re not quite ready for lunch so we walk back into the old town to explore the Ioseb Grisashvili Museum of Tbilisi History.
On entrance into the museum we pass the unmanned ticket desk and decide to start exploring. A couple of minutes into the first room we’re approached by a stern looking lady requesting to see our tickets. on failure to produce said tickets we are marched back to the (still unmanned) ticket desk where one of the clerks off chatting in the back room is called forth to attench us. We exchange glances, somewhat amused and also slightly relieved that this little glint of disapproval is the worst of it.
The museum has a couple of interesting displays and artefacts although could be much improved by some written commentary to put the haphazard labelling into context. There is a rather confronting photographic display which we spend some time reading (this does have commentary and explanations) about and viewing. The visit is topped off with the purchase of a number of very nice souvenirs from the more quality shops downstairs and a pause on the supremely comfy couch that threatens to swallow us both for the afternoon.
By now we’re both most certainly ready for some lunch and a rest which we do at Friend’s House for some khinkali and khachapuri (delicious!) before taking in the Georgian National Museum for the afternoon.
A quick stop at Carrefour for bits and pieces, we head back to the hotel for a little rest before changing and heading out for a bath before dinner, the night proving equally as glorious as the day.
Good To Know
Entry to churches requires modest dress (covered shoulders and knees) and a covered head for ladies. This rule is randomly enforced although it is better to be respectful of the local traditions and dress accordingly. There are a lot of churches and the insides are just as interesting and picturesque as the outsides.
Some churches have little baskets of head scarves available to borrow at the entrance and apron like coverings for the otherwise exposed knees. But to avoid disappointment and offense, carry a small light scarf with you to cover your head as required. European style is adequate and there is no need to cover the whole neck/head/hair (as is required for mosques in the Arabic style).
Would I Return?
Yes, it takes a LOT of churches to wear me out. Although we did around 20,000 steps today and there were a few blisters involved. It was worth it though!
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