Photo: Ščenza
Tbilisi, Georgia · Caucasus
Tbilisi: the Caucasian capital between Europe and Asia
Tbilisi is the rare capital that feels genuinely undiscovered for its quality. The old town has the sulphur baths and the wooden balconies; the wine culture is one of the oldest on earth; the country beyond the city is dramatic and almost empty.
By Ščenza
· updated · 4 min read
It’s 5:47 a.m. on the Metekhi bridge in Tbilisi, looking south across the Mtkvari river at the old town climbing up the hillside. The wooden balconies — the famous Tbilisi feature, intricate carved-and-painted hanging porches added to the brick-and-stone facades — are still in shadow. The Narikala fortress on the hill behind is just catching the first light. The dawn call to prayer from the small mosque in the Abanotubani sulphur-bath district is winding down. Tbilisi at this hour is one of the most distinctive small capitals I have walked in.
Why I keep coming back
Georgia (the country, not the U.S. state) is at the crossroads of the Caucasus, between Russia, Turkey, Armenia, and Azerbaijan. The country has one of the oldest continuous Christian traditions (since the 4th century AD), one of the oldest wine traditions on earth (8,000 years of viticulture; the qvevri clay-jar winemaking is the original), and a cuisine that synthesises Persian, Russian, Ottoman, and Caucasian influences into one of the most underrated regional cuisines in the world.
Tbilisi has, in the past decade, become one of the most-discovered destinations among Western travellers — and the discovery has not yet ruined it. Prices remain very reasonable. The hospitality is genuine. The country beyond the city — the wine country of Kakheti, the high Caucasus around Kazbegi and Mestia, the Black Sea coast at Batumi — is dramatic and largely empty.
Where to base yourself
Old Tbilisi (around the sulphur baths or Sololaki) for the central old-town walking.
Vera or Vake for the residential 19th-century neighbourhoods with the trees and the cafés.
What to actually do
Have a sulphur bath in Abanotubani. The 17th-century domed sulphur bathhouses still in active use; private rooms or the public sections. Chreli-Abano is the most ornate (Persian-tiled facade). Bathhouse No. 5 is the cheaper local option.
Walk the old town. From the Metekhi church across the river, up Rustaveli Avenue, into the small alleyways behind the Anchiskhati Basilica. The wooden balconies are the city’s signature.
Take the cable car up to Narikala Fortress. The 4th-century fortress on the hill above the old town; the cable car costs 1 lari; the view is the postcard.
Visit Mtatsminda. The ‘Sacred Mountain’ park above the city, accessed by a 1905 funicular; restaurants and the city panorama.
Day-trip to Mtskheta. The 4th-century former capital of Georgia, 20 km north; the Jvari Monastery on the hill above; the Svetitskhoveli Cathedral in the town.
Day-trip to Kazbegi. The Caucasus mountain town three hours north of Tbilisi; the small Gergeti Trinity Church on the ridge below Mount Kazbek (5,047 m). One of the most spectacular church-and-mountain photographs in the world.
Spend a few days in Kakheti. The wine country east of Tbilisi; Sighnaghi (the small fortified town), the historic vineyards of Tsinandali, the small family wineries doing qvevri winemaking.
Where to eat
Georgian food: khachapuri (cheese-stuffed bread, multiple regional variants — the Adjarian boat-shaped one with an egg is the iconic), khinkali (large meat dumplings), mtsvadi (Caucasian grilled meat), lobio (bean stews), chkmeruli (chicken in garlic-cream sauce), and the long tradition of supra (feast) meals with toasts.
Café Littera — Modern Georgian in a 19th-century courtyard. Barbarestan — Refined Georgian based on 19th-century cookbooks. Khinkali at Pasanauri — Old-school Tbilisi khinkali specialist. Shavi Lomi (‘The Black Lion’) — Modernised Georgian; rooftop terrace. Tone Café — Cheap, popular, all-day; the boiled-meat kharcho. Wine: Try Saperavi (the red), Rkatsiteli or Kisi (whites), and qvevri-aged amber wines (a uniquely Georgian style — white-grape wines fermented with the skins, producing an orange wine).
When to come
May–June and September–October are the most pleasant.
Summer can be hot (32–35°C) but the mountains are accessible.
Winter is cold and snowy; the high Caucasus is closed but Tbilisi is mild.
Practical notes
- Visa: Most Western passports get 365 days visa-free (yes, a year).
- Money: Georgian lari; ATMs reliable.
- Transport: The Metro is small but useful; taxis (use the Bolt app for fair prices) are inexpensive.
- Language: Georgian, with its own unique script; Russian widely understood; English increasingly common in tourism but still patchy.
- The supra: If you’re invited to a Georgian feast, accept. The supra is the country’s central social institution; toasts (led by the tamada, the toastmaster) are the structure of the meal; refusing to drink politely is acceptable but the gesture matters.
- Wine prices: Excellent Georgian wine starts at €5 a bottle at supermarkets and €15 at restaurants.
A final thought
Georgia is one of the most rewarding under-the-radar destinations I have visited. The combination of the depth of culture (Christianity since the 4th century, wine since 6000 BC, alphabet from the 5th century), the architectural beauty of Tbilisi, the dramatic Caucasus mountains, and the very low prices makes a 10-day trip one of the best value-for-experience trips in the region.
The country has been touched by the post-2022 Russian-Ukrainian war (Russian emigration has shifted prices in Tbilisi) and by the slowly growing tourism numbers. The fundamentals remain unchanged. The hospitality is real. The wine is real. The mountains are real.
Ten days minimum. Three or four in Tbilisi, two in Kakheti, two in the high Caucasus. The country earns the affection it provokes, slowly, and rewards a longer visit much more than a quick stopover.
If you only have a few days
6 ideal things to do in Tbilisi
A sulphur bath in Abanotubani
Below Narikala, on the right bank of the MtkvariLate afternoon; take a private room rather than queue
Tbilisi exists because of these springs. The legend has King Vakhtang Gorgasali's falcon dropping into the hot water and the king deciding to put a capital on top of it; by the end of the thirteenth century the city had sixty-five bathhouses. What survives are the brick domes half sunk into the ground here, the tiled Persian facade of Chreli Abano being the ornate one and plainer municipal rooms sitting a few doors along. Pay for the kisa scrub. You will feel assaulted, then remarkably clean.
Up to Narikala, down into the Botanical Garden
Old town, on the ridge above AbanotubaniLate afternoon into sunset
Fortress on this hill since at least the fourth century, though most of what stands is sixteenth and seventeenth, with an 1827 earthquake accounting for a good deal of what does not. Open, unfenced, no handrail in places. The move is to refuse to go back the way you came: cross the ridge and drop into the National Botanical Garden, a hundred and sixty hectares in the gorge behind, with a 1914 arched bridge over a waterfall that most people in the old town below have never seen.
Mtatsminda by the 1905 funicular
Chonkadze Street up to Mount MtatsmindaUp before sunset, down after dark
Georgia's writers are buried halfway up this hill, which is a better reason to take the funicular than the view is. The Pantheon wraps around St David's church: Griboyedov under a sculpture of a woman weeping, his teenage widow Nino Chavchavadze beside him, and Stalin's mother a short walk away. Above that the track climbs at close to thirty degrees to a park at seven hundred and seventy metres with a Ferris wheel and the whole city underneath. The funfair is cheerfully naff. I rode the wheel.
The Georgian National Museum on Rustaveli
Rustaveli AvenueTwo hours; the occupation exhibit is upstairs
Colchian gold is the first reason to come: pre-Christian goldwork from the kingdoms on the Black Sea coast, worked to a fineness that seems physically unlikely, and older than most of what European museums keep behind their best glass. The second is upstairs — the Museum of the Soviet Occupation, small, angry and unbalanced in the way a country that lost a century is entitled to be. Read it as a document of how Georgia sees itself now rather than a neutral account and it gets better, not worse.
The Chronicle of Georgia above the Tbilisi Sea
Keeni hill, north of the cityLate afternoon; no shade, no café, no shelter
Zurab Tsereteli started this in 1985 and never finished it, which somehow improves the thing: sixteen bronze-and-stone pillars up to thirty-five metres tall, kings and queens across the upper register, the life of Christ across the lower, planted on a bare hill above a reservoir. Nobody is there. No ticket office, no signage, no queue — an enormous unfinished national monument, and wind. Take a taxi; arriving any other way turns into a project.
Mtskheta: Jvari above, Svetitskhoveli below
North of Tbilisi, where the Mtkvari and Aragvi meetHalf a day; Jvari first, for the morning light
Mtskheta was the capital before Tbilisi was, and the place Georgia converted in the fourth century. Jvari monastery is sixth-century, up on the bluff above the meeting of two rivers, and looks less built than quarried out of the hill it stands on. Svetitskhoveli down in the town is eleventh-century and enormous, raised over the spot where the robe of Christ is said to lie. Cover your head and knees, and let the wedding parties go ahead of you — they are not there as scenery.
From a Split boy’s notebook
The Split lens
What reminded me of home
Old city on a river with wooden balcony architecture, a serious wine culture, and a national hospitality custom (the *supra* feast in their case, the long Dalmatian Sunday lunch in ours). The toasts and the slow afternoon-into-evening have the same instinct.
What Split could borrow
Georgia's small-producer natural-wine renaissance — the qvevri tradition, the family wineries in Kakheti — has built one of the most-talked-about contemporary wine regions. Our small Pelješac, Vis, and Korčula wineries make excellent wine and are largely unknown internationally. A coordinated small-producer Dalmatian-wine campaign on the Georgian model is overdue.
Who can take you
Tour operators & guides to try
A short, opinionated starter list — just my humble opinion. Verify before booking.
Wild Frontierssmall groupwww.wildfrontierstravel.com →
Wild Frontiers' Caucasus trips combine Georgia with Armenia (and sometimes Azerbaijan) over 14–18 days. The Tbilisi portion is well-handled — the Old Town walks, the wine country at Kakheti, the high Caucasus at Kazbegi. Group size 8–12. Caveat: the post-2022 regional politics have shifted the Russian-tourism dynamic in Tbilisi; the city has gotten more expensive and more crowded. Verify current pricing.
Intrepid Travelsmall groupwww.intrepidtravel.com →
Intrepid's Caucasus trips do similar circuits at a lower price point. Group size 12–16. The Georgian portion is solid — Tbilisi, Kakheti, Kazbegi — and the country's hospitality (the supra feast in particular) gets proper context. Caveat: the Armenian component on the longer trips is sometimes compressed; if Armenia matters to you, choose an itinerary with at least 5 days there.
