Tbilisi, Georgia … the coolest place no one goes to

I’m currently sitting in the Shorena’s Bar & Restaurant, in Stepantsminda, Georgia. It’s centimeters (as-the-finger-flies) from Russia on our paper roadmap.

There’s something to Georgia. Maybe it’s the fact that they are playing Pink Floyd in this guesthouse restaurant. It’s thundering something dangerous outside, and the entire staff looks like vampire hunters … waiting for the moment when the sun slinks behind these enormous, snowcapped mountains. Lazy but alert. Dark eyes, darker clothes. There’s something ancient, nearly Cro-magnon about their foreheads, furrowed like unibrow bunnies on the lookout for dark forces.

Anyways … there’s a dark and lovely romance to Georgia, as a whole. I adore this country. Given that I just arrived in Stepantsminda, let’s begin back at the beginning … a few days prior when I took the longest route ever to the capital city of Tbilisi. We came to Georgia because we wanted to go somewhere no one ever really goes. I’ve been rewarded far beyond my expectations.

Let me tell you, it’s not easy to get to Tbilisi. We were supposed to arrive via FlyDubai Airlines, on a direct from Dubai. Our flight was leaving at 2 a.m., so we headed for the airport around midnight-thirty. Only we went to the wrong airport and upon arrival at the counter, a delicate, Muslim girl found our plight hilarious. “You leave from other airport,” she announced. Words we couldn’t understand flew like arrows to her coworker, and they both began to snicker. She put a modest, manicured hand over her mouth and continued. “The other airport … it is some 60km away. You will never make your flight.” She then promptly fell into another fit of giggles. Chris looked at her blankly and said, “What’s wrong with you? That’s not funny at all.”

Then we ran for door and dove into a taxi, crossing the entire city. Alas, we didn’t make it. Tickets rebooked. Dubai to Doha, Qatar. Transfer to Baku, Azerbaijan and then finally Tbilisi. Somewhere in that five hours of flying, our luggage went missing. It took them three days to locate the bags – and in that time, we did a lot of wandering in the streets of Georgia’s capital.

If I had to describe Tbilisi, I’d start with the buildings. They are the heart of a romance that permeates this place. That heart, while thumping and lovely, has a serious case of angina.

Leaning. Crumbling. Disintegrating. Decaying. Tossing in the Vertical Towel. The majority of structures in the historic Old Town Tbilisi are fighting gravity with every ounce of steel in every last bent nail.

I cannot determine if the buildings here are left this way due to lack of money … or whether they are historic and simply untouched for preservations sake. Probably both.

It’s a place that time seems to have been forgotten in parts … and in others, there are grandiose modern additions like The Bridge of Peace, which was designed by Italian architect Michele De Lucchi. He’s gotten his tanned paws on more than one building in town, and his work creates a nice contrast between old and new … between what was and the hopeful, sturdy future that Georgia seems hellbent on carving out.

I have no fear for the future of this country. After all, Georgia hit its peak in the 11^th century. It’s clearly got staying power. Since, though, the country’s been invaded numerous times by Russia and the like. As recently as 1992, they fought the South Ossetia War. Ossetia remains a fussed-over spit of land. We shall see what disputed really means when we drive through it in a few days time. #PleaseDon’tTakeMyPassportGeorgia

Tbilisi’s old streets are largely empty at night. The balconies volunteer the occasional scarf-clad grannie or silent teenager with a bottle of beer. There are cats lounging down in asphalt-littered alleys. Hookah bars, crammed onto main cobblestone pathways, spread a bit of light and sound in the otherwise near total darkness.

If you are headed here, I highly recommend eating at Organique Josper Bar. The steaks are incredible. The food is – you guessed it – organic, and they serve Georgian wine and delicious, fluffy mashed potatoes. I also really enjoyed walking up to see The Mother of Georgia. It’s a giant metal statue overlooking the town below. There’s a tram that goes there, but the walk is pretty nice. You have to be aware of the traffic, which is part of the fun of Georgia. People here drive like the world is their own bumper car track. Yet, nearly getting creamed by a 1970 Fiat 2-door seems like just part of the wonky fun of this place. When you hike up the hill, you are rewarded with a tiny coffee car parked at the top, ready with your much-needed espresso. In fact, you can access a rather instant espresso anywhere in Tbilisi, thanks to Lavazza outfitting Smart Cars with espresso machines in the boot.

If I had to make comparisons to other towns, I’d say Tbilisi’s a mutt. It’s part apocalyptic-New Orleans with a bit of pre-bombed Warsaw. The scent is heavy with Turkish kebabs and the vibe is that of wandering around in an Anne Rice novel. Yet … nah. This place is just Tbilisi. It’s such a fantastic, weird and wonderful town. It’s a real shame that no one really comes here. For the rest of my life, I will probably compare other places to it. It’s as if everyone crawled out of a time capsule. It’s The Truman Show, circa 1323. If you can get to Tbilisi, do it. I mean that. Do. It. I will try my best to get back here in my life. I know I’m going to miss it now forever.