a. A Walk Through Old Town: From Narikala Fortress to Sulfur Hot Springs

On the morning of my first day in Tbilisi, I stood in front of the cable car station at Rike Park.

I watched as red gondolas slowly crossed above the Mtkvari River and climbed upward. While standing in line to buy a cable car ticket, a middle-aged Georgian man standing next to me struck up a conversation. 'First time here? Tbilisi looks like a completely different city from up there.' His name was Giorgi. He said he was a lifelong native of Tbilisi. 'My grandfather herded sheep below that fortress. Now tourists come, but it's still a playground from my childhood.'

The moment I boarded the cable car and rose above the river, I let out a spontaneous gasp at the landscape spreading below me.

Old Town densely packed with red-tiled roofs, the river winding between them, and ancient fortress walls crouched upon the hilltop. I could hardly believe that for such a meager cost,just 5 lari, roughly 2,500 won, one way,I could be given such a magnificent panorama.

Narikala Fortress carries a history older than Tbilisi itself. When Persians first built walls on this hillside around the fourth century, they called it 'Shuris-tsikhe',the Fortress of Jealousy,because the position was so impregnable. When Arabs later conquered the place, they gave it the name 'Narikala,' which means 'small fortress.' Despite its name, this fortress was anything but small.

Walking atop the walls, I reflected on Tbilisi's history. Mongol invasions, Ottoman rule, endless wars with Persia. These walls endured all those turbulent times.

A great earthquake in 1827 brought down much of the walls, but the remaining stones stand firm. Within the fortress sits St. Nicholas Church, restored in the 1990s. Small in scale, the frescoes inside still convey the deep faith of the Georgian Orthodox Church.

Standing at the fortress's highest point, all of Tbilisi unfolds in a 360-degree panorama. To the east, the golden dome of Sameba Cathedral glints in the sunlight; to the west, modern high-rises form the skyline. Between them, Old Town's maze-like lanes twist together like tangled thread. Standing here at dusk, you witness the entire city awash in golden light.

There are two ways down from the fortress. You can take the cable car again, or you can walk down the steep footpath.

I chose to walk.

As I descended the path, a towering female statue caught my eye,the Mother of Georgia, Kartlis Deda. I will discuss this statue in detail later.

Continuing downward, I arrived at Abanotubani, the sulfur hot spring district,the very place steeped in Tbilisi's founding legend. Around the fifth century, King Vakhtang Gorgasali was hunting in this area. The king's falcon struck a pheasant, and both birds, entangled together, fell into a pool of hot water. When the king rushed over, he saw hot water gushing from the earth. Marveling at these healing waters, he cleared the forest and built a city. The name 'Tbilisi' derives from 'Tbili,' meaning 'warm' in Georgian.

What strikes you first upon entering the hot spring district are the distinctive domed roofs. Built of red brick, these domes show the influence of Persian architecture. Natural sulfur hot spring water rising from deep below maintains a temperature around 40 degrees Celsius. The sulfur's distinctive smell assaults the nose, but you grow accustomed to it quickly.

I met Nana, a woman in her sixties who operates a bath house. Her family has run this bathhouse for three generations. 'When Alexander Pushkin came here, my great-grandmother heated the water for him,' Nana said proudly. Indeed, the Russian literary giant Pushkin visited in 1829 and recorded that he had 'never witnessed such luxury as the hot springs of Tbilisi.' French novelist Alexandre Dumas also came here and offered lavish praise.

I rented a private room and soaked in the hot springs. The cost runs about 50 to 100 lari per hour, roughly 25,000 to 50,000 won. Immersed in the hot sulfur water, the fatigue of travel melts away. If you wish, you can receive a traditional Georgian exfoliation massage called kisa. Rough cloth scrubs your entire body; though it stings at first, by the time the massage ends your skin feels noticeably softer.

Leaving the baths, I found the Leghvtakhevi gorge waiting. At the end of this small canyon, hidden in the heart of the city, stands a waterfall.

From below the waterfall, I gazed up at the houses perched on the cliff, and beyond them, the walls of Narikala Fortress. All of this unfolded like a painting.

The lanes of Old Town wind like a maze. Narrow and twisting paths lead in unpredictable directions. Getting lost doesn't matter. Every path leads somewhere beautiful. Wooden balconies cling like vines to crumbling brick buildings, creating the district's distinctive character.

Buildings erected in the nineteenth century display a distinctive style blending Italian, French, Russian, and Georgian architectural traditions. This is called the 'Tbilisi style.' Hidden within these buildings are Italian courtyards. These are not merely architectural elements but spaces where neighbors gather to talk and children run and play.

What strikes you most in Old Town is religious diversity. The Georgian Orthodox Church, Armenian Cathedral, Jewish Synagogue, and Islamic Mosque coexist within close proximity of one another.

As a crossroads of the Silk Road, Tbilisi was for centuries a city where diverse peoples and faiths mingled. That tradition continues today.

Metekhi Church, standing atop Metekhi Cliff, was built in the thirteenth century. The silhouette of this church rising at the cliff's edge is among Tbilisi's most iconic images. Before the church stands an equestrian statue of King Vakhtang Gorgasali, who founded Tbilisi. The king gazes down at the city he built across the river.

Sioni Cathedral was first built in the sixth century, then destroyed and rebuilt multiple times. The present structure dates to the thirteenth century. The cathedral is the heart of the Georgian Orthodox Church and houses the Cross of Saint Nino. Saint Nino, who brought Christianity to Georgia in the fourth century, is said to have carried a cross made from a vine branch.

The oldest church in Old Town is Anchiskhati Basilica. Built in the sixth century, it ranks among Tbilisi's oldest structures. Small in scale, yet stepping inside, you feel the weight of more than a thousand years.

To conclude my Old Town walk, I ducked into a small café. Sitting on the terrace with Turkish coffee, I watched people moving through the lanes. Tourists and locals mingled, cats lounged lazily in the sun, laundry fluttered from balconies. This is the everyday life of Tbilisi's Old Town.

b. The Bridge of Peace and Sameba Cathedral: Symbols of the City

The Mtkvari River divides Tbilisi east and west. To the south lies Old Town; to the north spreads the modern new city. Connecting these two worlds is the Bridge of Peace, which opened in 2010 and stands as the preeminent symbol of Tbilisi's contemporary character.

A young architecture student named Levan, whom I met on the bridge, shared how Tbilisians reacted to it. 'When it was first built, there was a lot of controversy. Some people even mocked it, making certain comparisons,' he said with a laugh. 'But now everyone loves it. We cannot imagine Tbilisi without this bridge.'

Designed by Italian architect Michele De Lucchi, this pedestrian-only bridge is made of glass and steel. At 156 meters long and 5 meters wide, it traces graceful curves across the river, resembling a massive marine creature undulating in the waves. Placed among Old Town's venerable buildings, this ultramodern structure might initially appear incongruous. Yet over time it has seamlessly integrated into the city's landscape.

The Bridge of Peace truly comes alive at night. When darkness falls, thousands of LED lights ignite in unison, bathing the bridge in ethereal glow. This is no mere decoration. The lights flash in Morse code the chemical elements of the periodic table, conveying a message: all humans, regardless of race or nationality, are composed of the same elements. It is a symbol of peace and harmony.

The night view from the bridge ranks among Tbilisi's most romantic scenes. To the east, Narikala Fortress and Metekhi Church glow under lights. To the west, the glass dome of the presidential palace shimmers softly. Lights reflected in the river ripple and dance, creating an enchanted atmosphere. Lovers stroll hand in hand, and street musicians sing.

Crossing the bridge, you arrive at Rike Park, the city's cherished refuge. Families picnic on wide lawns while children run and play. One section of the park features a building shaped like a giant piano, used as a concert hall with a striking appearance. From the park, you can take the cable car up to Narikala Fortress.

While the Bridge of Peace displays Tbilisi's modern aspirations, the Holy Trinity Cathedral of Tbilisi,Sameba,symbolizes Georgia's spiritual roots. Majestically positioned on Elia Hill, this cathedral is visible from everywhere in Tbilisi. Its golden dome, catching the sunlight, stands unmistakably prominent in the city's skyline.

Sameba Cathedral is a relatively recent structure. Construction began in 1995 and was completed in 2004, erected to commemorate the 1,500th anniversary of Georgian Orthodox independence and the 2,000th anniversary of Jesus's birth. This occurred in the economically difficult period immediately following the Soviet collapse. Yet this monumental cathedral came to be through voluntary contributions from the people,a testament to Georgian faith and national pride.

As you draw near, the cathedral's scale becomes overwhelming. Standing between 87 and 101 meters tall, it ranks among the largest religious structures in the Caucasus and is one of the world's largest Orthodox cathedrals. It can accommodate 15,000 worshippers.

A guide named Mariam, whom I met at the cathedral entrance, shared the story behind its construction. 'My mother sent part of her salary each month to the cathedral building fund. This was at a time when we barely had enough to eat,' she said, her eyes bright with pride. 'This cathedral belongs to all of us. Rich or poor, everyone gave a little to build it.'

Entering the cathedral interior, I was breathless at the majesty. Soaring arches and columns, ornate frescoes and icons, marble floors and stained glass,everything evokes a sacred atmosphere.

Following Orthodox tradition, the cathedral interior has few chairs. Worshippers stand during prayer.

The architectural style harmoniously blends Georgian traditional church design with Byzantine forms. The exterior follows traditional Georgian church proportions, yet the scale and ornamentation reflect contemporary interpretation. The cathedral complex comprises not only the main building but also bell towers, a monastery, and a theological seminary.

When visiting the cathedral, dress appropriately. Men should wear long trousers; women should cover shoulders and knees. Women should wear a head scarf,considered respectful etiquette. Scarves can be borrowed at the entrance. Photography is permitted provided you do not use a flash.

Beneath the cathedral are tombs and a museum displaying artifacts related to Georgian Orthodox history. The cathedral gardens feature fountains and benches for peaceful walks. Ascending the bell tower affords a sweeping view of downtown Tbilisi.

When evening falls, the entire cathedral is illuminated with golden light. Sameba Cathedral, shining in the darkness, is like a lighthouse guiding the city. The cathedral's nighttime view from the Peace Bridge is a scene not to be missed in Tbilisi.

The two structures reveal Tbilisi's dual nature. The Peace Bridge symbolizes the city's aspiration to move toward the future. Modern design, cutting-edge technology, openness. Sameba Cathedral embodies the traditions and faith handed down from the past. Ancient architecture, deep spirituality, communal consciousness. Tbilisi is a city where these two coexist. A city that moves toward the future without forgetting the past, that preserves tradition while embracing change.

As you walk along the riverbank, there is a point where both structures fit into a single frame. Beyond the bridge of glass and steel, the golden dome shines. This view would be the image that best captures Tbilisi's identity.

C. Khachapuri and Khinkali, and the Techno Club Bassiani

Traveling through Georgia is like receiving an invitation to an endless feast of culinary delights. For a hungry traveler, no country could be more welcoming than Georgia. This is because you can enjoy abundant and delicious food at affordable prices.

Chef Dato, whom I met at a restaurant in the Old Town, explained the philosophy of Georgian cuisine like this: "Georgian food is not flashy. What matters is bringing out the natural flavor of the ingredients. And food is not eaten alone but shared together." True to his words, the Georgian table is not merely a place to eat. The traditional feast culture called "Supra" illustrates this well.

Supra is a Georgian feast. When you invite friends or guests, dozens of dishes are laid on the table. At the center of the celebration is the "Tamada," a toastmaster. Through toasts, the Tamada guides expressions of respect for ancestors, love for the homeland, and tribute to friendship and family. A toast is not merely the clinking of glasses. It is a social ritual through which poetry and stories are exchanged, and songs resound.

The star of the Georgian table is undoubtedly khachapuri. "Khacho" means cheese, and "puri" means bread. Literally, it is cheese bread. But the world of flavors contained in this simple name is endless. More than fifty variations of khachapuri exist throughout Georgia.

The most famous is Adjaruli Khachapuri. Originating from the Adjara region on the Black Sea coast, this khachapuri is a boat-shaped bread filled generously with cheese, topped with butter and raw egg yolk. There is a way to eat it. You pull off the pointed ends of the bread, then swirl together the hot cheese, egg, and butter. Then you scoop up this golden mixture with pieces of bread. At the first bite, a rich, salty flavor spreads across your mouth, and you cannot help but gasp.

Imeruli Khachapuri is round in shape. Cheese is placed inside the dough, flattened, and baked. Megrelian Khachapuri is similar to Imeruli but with an additional layer of cheese on top, making it richer. Penovani uses puff pastry dough with cheese, baked until crispy.

Khachapuri is not merely food to Georgians. It is a cherished national symbol, significant enough to be designated as UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage. The price ranges from 5 to 15 lari (approximately 2,500 to 7,500 won), making it affordable. It is sufficient for a hearty meal.

Another signature dish is khinkali. These are Georgian dumplings. Inside thick wheat dough are minced meat (usually a mix of beef and pork), spices, and rich broth. A single khinkali is quite substantial. Usually, five to ten pieces are ordered as one plate.

There is etiquette to eating khinkali. You do not use a fork or knife. You hold it by the knot at the top (the handle, called "Kudi" in Georgian). You gently bite into the dumpling wrapper and first sip the hot broth inside. Spilling the broth is a failure. Then you eat the rest. The knot portion is just a ball of dough, so it is usually left on the plate. It is also used to count how many khinkali you have eaten.

I practiced this entire process at a khinkali specialist restaurant in the Old Town. A local family at the next table laughed at my clumsy attempts. A man who appeared to be the father approached and demonstrated the proper technique. "Slowly, do not bite too hard. If all the broth spills out, you lose half the flavor." Thanks to his advice, from the second khinkali onward, I was able to eat properly. Ten pieces cost around 10 lari (approximately 5,000 won), filling you up at an affordable price.

Beyond these, Georgian cuisine offers a vast world. Satsivi is chicken with walnut sauce. It is also a holiday dish enjoyed at New Year. Lobio is slow-cooked kidney beans served in a clay pot. Pkhali is an appetizer made from vegetables such as spinach, beets, and beans, dressed with walnuts and garlic. When colorful pkhali arrives on a plate, your eyes delight first.

Georgian food culture is inseparable from its 8,000-year wine tradition. Wine invariably accompanies meals. Georgian wine will be discussed in detail in the chapter covering the Kakheti region.

Once your belly is full, it is time to experience Tbilisi's nightlife. Tbilisi has recently emerged as a global techno music mecca, earning the title "the new Berlin." At the heart of this scene is Club Bassiani.

Bassiani is located underground beneath the Dinamo Arena football stadium. A former swimming pool was converted into a club. The drained floor of the massive pool became the dance floor. The ceiling is low and concrete walls are left raw and exposed. The heavy bass echoes through this space, reverberating off the walls. There is a reason club enthusiasts worldwide are passionate about it.

Gaining entry to Bassiani is not easy. There is strict admission screening called "Face Control." At the door, staff members look you up and down. Clothing, demeanor, atmosphere. Everything is subject to judgment. Only those who can share the club's philosophy are allowed inside.

In 2018, police raided Bassiani under the pretext of drug enforcement. This incident sparked massive protests. Thousands of young people gathered in front of Parliament, playing techno music and dancing,

in protest. The slogan "We Dance Together, We Fight Together" echoed through the streets. Bassiani became more than just an entertainment venue; it became a symbol of Georgian youth's freedom and spirit of resistance.

In a conservative social atmosphere, Bassiani aspires to be a safe space open to all, including LGBTQ+ individuals. Discrimination against sexual minorities remains serious in Georgian society. Bassiani is a sanctuary where anyone can dance and enjoy themselves freely, without such discrimination.

I entered Bassiani on a weekend night. Admission ranges from 20 to 50 lari (approximately 10,000 to 25,000 won). After midnight when I arrived, the club was already filled with energy. Hundreds of young people moved as one to the DJ's beat, dancing. The party did not end even after 5 a.m. The music continued until sunrise.

Beyond Bassiani, Tbilisi has many high-quality clubs. Khidi is a club housed in a converted riverside warehouse, featuring an industrial atmosphere. Mtkvare is a club built on a boat floating on the river. Each club has its own distinct character, offering a different experience each night.

By day, you taste centuries-old qvevri wine in a traditional wine bar; by night, you surrender to world-class techno music. The flavors of tradition and the beats of modernity coexist. This is Tbilisi's surprising charm.

Around Rustaveli Avenue and the Old Town are trendy bars, pubs, and live music venues. These are vibrant spaces where young artists and travelers from around the world mix. They buzz with energy late into the night, even until dawn. Tbilisi is a city that never sleeps.

D. The Georgian Mother's Message About National Character

Anywhere in Tbilisi, if you look up at the hilltops, a colossal female statue catches your eye. Standing majestically atop Sololaki Hill and gazing down at the city is the "Mother of Georgia," or in Georgian, "Kartlis Deda."

This statue, erected in 1958 to commemorate Tbilisi's 1,500th anniversary, stands twenty meters high. Made of aluminum, it is the work of sculptor Elguja Amashukeli. A woman in traditional Georgian dress stands with confident bearing. She holds different objects in each hand.

In her left hand is a goblet filled with wine. In her right hand is a sharp sword. These two objects perfectly summarize the Georgian national character.

The wine goblet symbolizes hospitality. There is a Georgian saying: "A guest is a gift from God." Georgians consider lavish hospitality a sacred duty. When a stranger knocks, they offer the finest food and wine. Even when a guest is full, they insist on serving more. An empty plate at a Georgian table is a mark of shame for the host.

I experienced this hospitality culture firsthand during my travels. While passing through a rural village, I asked for directions. Farmer Bakhta, instead of answering, invited me to his home. "Rest first before I show you the way." His wife quickly laid out a feast on the table. Khachapuri, lobio, pickled vegetables, and of course wine. "Drink, drink," Bakhta said, continuously refilling my glass. I spent two hours at that house. When I left, they pressed a basket of grapes into my hands. "Welcome to Georgia." This warm hospitality offered to a complete stranger. This is what the wine goblet represents.

The sword, by contrast, symbolizes resistance and courage. Georgian history is one of endless invasion and resistance. Persia, the Arabs, the Mongols, the Ottomans, Russia. Countless foreign powers coveted this small nation. This land, nestled between the rugged mountains of the Caucasus, was a crossroads between East and West. The Silk Road passed through here, and it was a strategic gateway connecting the oil-rich Caspian Sea to the Mediterranean.

Yet Georgians did not surrender. Even as kingdoms fell and they faced foreign rule, they preserved their language, alphabet, religion, and culture. They resisted to the end in mountain fortresses. When enemies attacked, women and children took up arms. This fierce vitality and spirit of independence is what the sword embodies.

Standing before the Mother statue, you can feel both aspects of this character simultaneously. Infinitely warm to friends, yet mercilessly resolute against enemies. Hospitality and resistance, gentleness and strength. The Georgian people embody the coexistence of these two qualities.

To see the Mother statue up close, take the walking trail from Narikala Fortress. After ascending from the cable car station to the fortress, walk along the fortress walls until you reach the hill where the statue stands. Just before the statue is a viewing platform overlooking the city of Tbilisi.

Standing at the platform, I gazed down at the city. The red roofs of the Old Town, the Mtkvari River flowing between them, Sameba Cathedral on the hill. It was a peaceful view. Yet reflecting on how much blood was shed to preserve this peace, I felt reverent.

An elderly man named Vaso whom I met at the platform was explaining the statue to his young grandson. "That wine goblet is to welcome good children like you. But that sword..." He patted his grandson's head. "It is to defend us when bad people try to harm us." The grandson nodded and gazed up at the statue.

I recommend visiting at sunset. As the sun descends in the west, the statue bathes in golden light. The entire city is suffused with red, and the Mother's silhouette stands sharply against the sky. The viewing platform crowds with people trying to capture this scene on camera.

The Mother statue has been replaced once since its original construction in 1958. The original wooden statue deteriorated from weathering and was replaced with the current aluminum version in the 1990s. The new statue faithfully replicates the original design but is larger and more durable.

The statue stood firm even during the Soviet era. Though a nationalist symbol at odds with communist ideology, Soviet authorities did not touch it. Perhaps they feared Georgian resistance, or perhaps they recognized its artistic value. In any case, the Mother statue silently preserved Georgian national pride under Soviet rule.

Today, the Mother statue is one of Tbilisi's most iconic landmarks. It appears without fail in city promotional materials and is an essential stop for tourists. Yet to truly understand the statue's meaning, one must know Georgia's history and culture. One must understand how the hospitality and resistance symbolized by the wine goblet and sword are inscribed in the Georgian nation's very DNA.

Leaving the Mother Georgia statue behind and descending the hillside, I found myself reflecting. This monument is far more than a simple sculpture. It is the self-portrait of a nation that has preserved its identity despite countless invasions by foreign powers over thousands of years. To friends, the finest wine; to enemies, the sharpest blade. This is Georgia.

The statue's gaze is both gentle and resolute. In that downward look upon the city, one senses the past's glory and suffering, along with hope for the future. Today as always, the Mother Georgia monument stands holding wine and blade, quietly conveying Georgia's spirit to all who visit Tbilisi.