Tbilisi
თბილისი
Tbilisi's ancient past, Soviet history, and present all rolled into one
August 7, 1005
Our driver from Yerevan, Armenia to Tbilisi, Georgia was Armenian and so once across
the border he switched from Armenian to Russian to communicate with the passengers
we picked up. We arrived at the bus station in Tbilisi to find a group of cab drivers
fighting for our business before we could even exit the mini bus. They seemed to
be at each others’ throats more than ours and the American we met on the bus, Barry
ran to the bathroom as we hung out waiting and fighting off the taxi driver. Upon
his return we got a cab, which he argued the price of until Barry said the price
was fair.
Once we arrived to our hostel, we exchanged info and I was struck by the vast numbers
of watermelons along with other fruits and vegetables scattered across the streets...
many of the watermelons being sold out of the trunk of Ladas, the most common Russian
car.
We soon found a man helping us; the woman who owns the house we were staying in
was out so we went across the way to find her friend, who was checking everyone
in. He was nice and as soon as he discovered we spoke Russian he immediately switched
to it and told us everything about Georgia. He talked about Shakalivo, the new president
and how he is not a president or a politician, but an artist. He can put on a good
show and can sell anything, but is screwing the people. He talked about the rising
taxes and how relations with the US have tampered his view and he is becoming more
a pawn than a person actively striving to help his people.
We eventually dropped our bags off and headed into town to get water and money.
The heat was unbearable and they said that it was 47 degrees, which is 117 degrees
Fahrenheit. The water was welcoming as was the street food: some pastries. We decided
that we had little time in Georgia though so immediately headed out to see Tbilisi.
We headed to the south bank and walked the streets seeing the Parliament, Abanotubani
(sulfur baths), many churches, a synagogue, and finally after passing the mosque
we reached Narikala fortress topping the hill beside the Mother Georgia statue.
The fortress's highlights were the views. We could see for miles to the west
and to the east we looked down the river reflecting the quaint little buildings
sitting upon the edge. We returned to the hostel starving, but struggled to get
out to dinner since we met so many backpackers.
Narikala Fortress
One of these backpackers, a French girl was very nice and intelligent; she has been
living in Montreal since she was 15. We headed to dinner to a nearby place she recommended.
The restaurant was initially an excellent choice and the staff did everything to
help us. There was again no menu in Russian or English so we found ourselves with
a random guy named Alex who didn't work there, but was willing to help us out
and told us what is good/bad and what the more traditional Georgian foods are.
We got the khinkali, a kababi, salad, khachapuri, and our new friend bought Georgian
lemonade for us (basically 7up). Khinkali are meat dumplings and one must order
them in vast quantities, at least five per person, less is truly unacceptable and
when we tried to order less we were corrected. They are good, with a doughy nexus
on the top and filled with meat and juices, but they are also big, making five or
so a good amount, although I was starving and finished them.
The kababi had extremely tender meat and great flavor.
The khachapuri was also good, however it was covered in goat cheese and I am not
a huge fan. It had a layer of dough, cheese, dough, cheese and butter. It was excellent
for goat cheese, and extremely filling. We couldn’t finish it and when a young boy
of about 10 came in begging for money or food we gave him the rest of it.
Absolutely stuffed we returned to organize transportation the following morning
to see Gori and Mtskheta so we could make it to Kazbegi by tomorrow's nightfall.
Georgia's Parliament
August 9, 2005
Once back in Tbilisi from Kazbegi, our driver said that we needed to get gas, but
we kept passing stations and I couldn’t figure out what he meant until he came to
the place with the biggest line and we began waiting. I realized that there’s a
difference between gas and petrol, petrol is what I, as an American think of as
gas and gas is condensed vapor into liquid form much like propane or natural gas.
The cars use a combination of propane and petrol like a hybrid. As we approached
our driver quickly puffed on a cigarette before reaching the pumps. We had to get
out of the car before reaching the pump and only after stopping at the pump did
our driver or any driver really decide to pay at the building beside the pumps.
Once he paid he went back and then the attendants pumped the gas. After it finished
we got back in the car and Filippo explained that he was almost Georgian: he was
dirty and he was dressed poorly.
We got back to the hostel to find Nasi, a real nasty woman who sports a big calendar
with pictures of Stalin in her living room. She likes to yell and I didn’t like
much about her so we headed off to dinner.
We returned to the same restaurant as the other night, which made me feel a little
ill, but was so good I couldn't refuse. We only slightly changed our order,
having the salad, kababi, khachapuri, and mtsvadi (shashlik). All were again good.
After dinner Elizabeth decided to ask a cab driver how to get to Azerbaijan. He
told us to be careful in Tbilisi and that it is full of criminals. After telling
us this he volunteered to bring us to the bus station to see the time table. He
then told us that he wouldn’t charge us and after getting to the station and not
helping us at all, he decided to start trying come on to Elizabeth. She said no
and soon the car speed went from about 5 mph to about 50 mph but he returned us
unharmed.
In the hostel we met a Slovene, who had just returned from Poland; he had a relative
marry a Pole and he talked of how nice and friendly they were and how well accepting
the Poles are, a topic we got on after mentioning to him that we live in Krakow,
Poland.
August 10, 2005
We awoke to get a cab to the bus station for the 9:00am bus to Baku, but found ourselves
out of luck, with only two buses going to Baku a week. We asked how else we could
get to Baku and a man said that he could take us to the border then cross by foot,
and picking up a bus to Baku on the other side of the border, where buses leave
every half hour. We got to the border extremely quickly; our driver said that we
were going faster than an airplane at one point… I don’t doubt it. The border was
a mess and so we went by foot out of Georgia, which was no problem and then across
the “Kracny Most” (Red Bridge) to Azerbaijan.
St. Nicholas Church in Narikala Fortress