{"id":18288,"date":"2026-01-13T14:53:07","date_gmt":"2026-01-13T14:53:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/enamonotfp.com\/?p=18288"},"modified":"2026-01-13T21:34:08","modified_gmt":"2026-01-13T21:34:08","slug":"taxidi-dromou-georgia","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/enamono.com\/en\/taxidi-dromou-georgia\/","title":{"rendered":"Road Trip (Georgia)"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A road trip requires a bit of basic planning (basic, rough \u2014 however you want to put it) and one essential condition: flexibility. If you belong to the obsessive or the perfectionists clan, drop it !!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If that condition is met, then you also get its gifts. Just like in life, the real flavor is in the detour. In that moment when you leave the straight road and discover wonders. The same goes for travel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So, on the way to Akhaltsikhe, we took a turn at a bend where something looked beautiful from afar, and we found ourselves in a magical place: Vardzia. A village inhabited since the Bronze Age.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Through mountains and rivers we reached a cave-like, troglodyte mountain, where inside the caves there are frescoes from 1180. Once, 2,000 monks lived there. On the way out, we saw a sign for a convent and decided to go since we had come this far. And we arrived at exactly the right time. Surrounded by green, on the mountain peak, during vespers. Twenty nuns in the middle of nowhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

All of this through winding roads, barely wide enough for one and a half cars, with relaxed cows \u2014 or not so relaxed :-) !<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With all that, we saw the castle of Akhaltsikhe both at night and in daylight. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The destination was Batumi on the Black Sea via the highway. But along the way, a sign for a monastery caught our eye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Zarzma, it said \u2014 monastery. Shall we go? Let\u2019s go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the top of a village stands an 8th-century monastery with breathtaking frescoes. Eleven monks live there, along with the abbot, who, when he learned we were from Greece, gave us a tour of the entire village. He took us to the spring where, during excavations, a marble depiction of the Prophet Daniel with the lions was found \u2014 probably dating back to the 5th century.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

The abbot suggested we go to Batumi through the mountains instead of the highway \u2014 \u201cso you can see them,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What mountains, what fir trees, what roads, what villages hidden among the firs! 2,200 meters altitude. And even if 50 of the 100 kilometers were dirt roads, even if they were goat paths, even if Georgian drivers overtook us in that chaos \u2014 apparently they treat overtaking as a hobby, anywhere, any way. One hundred kilometers of dense, breathtaking forest. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Five hours later we reached Batumi.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I imagine what this city must have been like on the edge of the Black Sea before the invasion of corporations that have left no inch unbuilt. Skyscrapers everywhere, and in between them forgotten apartment blocks with everything hanging off them \u2014 cables, clothes, windows, crumbling plaster. Skyscrapers that block the sunset, luxury cars and cows strolling calmly down the boulevards. I escaped to another coastal town for the night, on the border with Turkey. On the border with Pontos.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

On the road to Mestia in the Caucasus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Georgia is trying to leave the Soviet era behind, yet it keeps popping up here and there \u2014 in buildings, factories, in rough, heavy-handed constructions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But in one village, Rukhi, which we reached by accident, we found these incredible Soviet-era mosaics.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Those propagandistic artworks that usually adorned schools, public buildings, and streets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The designs spoke of that higher human being we carry within us, no matter the role we serve. Athletes, scientists, students, farmers, musicians, doctors, artists \u2014 all smiling and hopeful toward a new, fairer, more equal world. We believed in it. It didn\u2019t happen. And now the mosaics are slowly fading from the rain and abandonment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Somewhere along the way, I felt moved. Mostly by that faith \u2014 that maybe we could make it after all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Svaneti - Kutaisi<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Is there really such a thing as a hard-to-reach and isolated place in Europe in the 21st century?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mestia and Ushguli in Georgia, villages that lie at the foothills of the Caucasus, still have difficult access (thankfully).<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The route from Zugdidi is 127 km \u2014 127 kilometers through an endless forest of firs, beeches, poplars, and walnut trees. Dense forest everywhere. But the road is indescribable: narrow and two-way, with military trucks, roadwork trucks, trucks carrying tree trunks, landslides, sudden damage that forces you into the opposite lane, potholes both visible and hidden, fresh asphalt that has swollen and suddenly launches you into the air, curves \u2014 endless curves \u2014 mud, dirt, gravel, and in the middle of all this, happy cows standing right in the road, horses and foals in absolute freedom, pigs with their piglets, chickens, geese, and crazy Georgian drivers overtaking like there\u2019s no tomorrow. The result: 127 km, 5 hours. In summer. Because from October onward, visits to Svaneti are at your own risk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Mestia, a mountainous regional center of Svaneti, along with Ushguli, is inhabited by the Svan people, who have their own ancient unwritten language, customs lost in the depths of time, and a peculiar autonomy due to their geography.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Built in the Caucasus, which rises to 4,000\u20135,000 meters all around, with raging rivers on either side, they remained isolated until recently. The population is largely agricultural, though development is coming \u2014 and with it, change. The Soviet period, through its strictness, preserved the region, but its beauty will bring tourism and everything that entails.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The beauty is indescribable. The stone tower houses dominating the villages, built during the Middle Ages, are UNESCO monuments. The Caucasus, with its glaciers, illuminates the villages day and night. Especially at night \u2014 that white of the glaciers under moonlight is an image beyond words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Staying in a wooden cabin inside the forest, with views of the Caucasus peaks, is also beyond words. The family we ended up staying with by accident was kind, warm, hospitable, and smiling. What a blessing those days were.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

On the way through forests and villages toward Kutaisi, we saw that there was a cave with stalactites called Prometheus Cave. Something about the phenomenon, something about the name that swelled our pride in our mythical past, made us take the detour \u2014 only to find ourselves in a rather touristy, somewhat fake cave. Thanks to that detour, however, as we passed through a village among plane trees, I noticed the corner of what appeared to be an old hotel, seemingly abandoned. Shall we go see? I love abandoned buildings. Let\u2019s go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I never imagined what unfolded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The town of Tskaltubo in Georgia was a popular spa town during the Soviet era, thanks to its radon-rich waters. A leisure destination for Russians, who could reach it directly by train from Moscow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Between 1950 and 1957, 22 hotels and sanatoriums of incredible beauty and grandeur were built, among them No. 6, Stalin\u2019s personal spa, which is still operating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The purpose of this grandeur was also political \u2014 to reinforce the idea of state concern for citizens\u2019 health and to offer reassurance that everyone could enjoy luxury under this regime. The first building was called the Military Sanatorium and served soldiers and their families.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In 1990, however, after Georgia\u2019s independence, the buildings were left without Russians, maintenance costs could no longer be covered, and they were abandoned. During the war, when Russia took Abkhazia, many displaced Georgians found refuge in these buildings as refugees. With nonexistent resources, the buildings deteriorated, and their current condition is tragic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There are plans to reuse them as hotels and to restore this small town to the grand spa city it deserves to be.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

I hope I managed, somehow, to capture what my eyes saw.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Kutaisi -BORJOMI<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And so we arrived in Kutaisi, Georgia\u2019s third-largest city, at night. A beautiful city \u2014 lively, artistic, with lovely buildings. We saw it by day as well when setting off for Borjomi. We don\u2019t really know why we went there \u2014 or rather, we set off because we wanted to see a church that we eventually passed by without stopping. These things happen. Along the way, though, we saw many other churches, because Georgia and churches go together like pot and lid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Motsameta Monastery, Jvari Monastery \u2014 both stunning, with exquisite frescoes. And several others, unknown, along the way.\n\nAnd then chaos.\n\nSomething about seeing a waterfall a bit further down \u2014 it must be here somewhere \u2014 so we turned onto a dirt road and crossed countryside and villages in the middle of nowhere, convinced we\u2019d soon rejoin the main road. No waterfall. Grandmothers everywhere with mushrooms. And when we finally asked a bewildered driver we were following into the void \u2014 probably heading to visit in-laws in a village \u2014 whether this was the right way to Borjomi, he nearly fainted.\n\nLong story short, a 2-hour route turned into five hours. Road trip it is!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Kazbegi- Stepantsminda-Sameba<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the border with Russia, Mount Kazbegi is an otherworldly landscape. The mountain rises to 5,047 meters, and you reach the village at its foothills via the Georgian Military Road. This road is mentioned in Strabo\u2019s Geography as well as by Pliny the Elder. It crosses the Caucasus and connects Georgia with Russia.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Passing through the magnificent Terek Valley \u2014 like a child\u2019s drawing \u2014 and by the gigantic Monument of Georgian-Russian Friendship (which was not destined to last very long), the road cuts through a gorge before reaching the village and continuing alongside the river toward Vladikavkaz in Russia. In a breathtaking location stands the Gergeti Trinity Church, a symbol of Georgia, glowing at night beneath the mountain peak like a lighthouse on a remote island.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The mountain\u2019s summit \u2014 a glacier \u2014 is elusive, constantly playing with the clouds. You can spend an entire day waiting for a clear view of the peak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Driving a little beyond Kazbegi toward Juta, an isolated village, I felt all the awe that a mountain can inspire \u2014 nature, and our sense of insignificance before untouched beauty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

P.S. As for the \u201cdangerous zone\u201d \u2014 it\u2019s in my nature to leave the road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Georgia, then \u2014 a country of surprises.\n\nJust 3.5 million people, almost half the size of Greece. Each region a different world. Each region a distinct beauty. Plains of vineyards, high mountains with glaciers, forests upon forests upon forests, the Black Sea, alpine landscapes, raging rivers, monasteries, castles, architecture with Ottoman, Soviet, Eastern, Roman, Art Deco, Art Nouveau, and classical influences. Villages \u2014 endless villages \u2014 of survival.\n\nSurvival and poverty: mothers of ingenuity and creation. Everywhere.\n\nA small country, threatened from antiquity until today by its neighbors, gnawed away piece by piece \u2014 and yet it resists. It resists with hardship as an ally, preserving traditions, customs, and ways of life. It resists with the rugged Caucasus that isolates it.\n\nA kind-hearted, friendly country, green like hope. I don\u2019t know how long it will remain unspoiled, as the current economic invasion seems the most dangerous yet. Russians, Arabs, Chinese playing with hunger. A pension of 300 lari for the hands that fought, dug, built, raised families \u2014 about 100 euros.\n\nGeorgia, then \u2014 a lovable country full of emotion, with difficult roads, unruly drivers, and cows everywhere, as if sticking out its tongue at our propriety and European order.\n\nI will go back, because I didn\u2019t manage to drive the most difficult road in the world \u2014 the one that leads to Tusheti, the most isolated region of Europe, accessible only three months a year, if that.\n\nMay the Caucasus keep the keys \u2014 perhaps this gem will be saved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The road trip needs an elementary planning (elementary, crude how to say it) and a precondition. Flexibility. .<\/p>","protected":false},"author":16,"featured_media":18339,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-18288","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/enamono.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18288","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/enamono.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/enamono.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/enamono.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/16"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/enamono.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18288"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/enamono.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18288\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18414,"href":"https:\/\/enamono.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18288\/revisions\/18414"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/enamono.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/18339"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/enamono.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18288"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/enamono.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18288"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/enamono.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18288"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}