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Updated: 3 days ago


coffee in tbilisi

Wondering where to get a proper cup of coffee in the Caucasian capital? Wonder no more.

Years ago, getting a decent coffee in Tbilisi was a task only for Tom Cruise’s mission impossible team. Ordering a “cappuccino” when I first came to Georgia would get you a cup of instant coffee with hot milk instead of water. The scene started to change as Lavazza and Illy (basically the Italian Folgers in your cup) entered the market, first with a wave of small little corner shops and finally, general market acceptance in restaurants everywhere, so that no matter where you go now you can at least get something decent. Starbucks awareness began to grow when in the haute neighborhood of Vake opened up a “Starbucks” (eventually people realized it wasn’t an actual Starbucks and they stopped going).

But what about for the coffee snobs—and basically any Berlin-worshipping hipster nob—who requires something at least 5 dollars a cup and served at an exact temperature in a glass test tube? I’m happy to say that Tbilisi has fully embraced the coffee revolution, from corner shops serving aeropress (or whatever the next big thing is) to even a homegrown coffee chain that looks astonishingly like that of the degenerate mermaid grinds.


Which I should mention, for a proper espresso, americano, or cappucino these days, expect to pay 9 - 12 GEL. That's inflation for you. For fancy aeropress stuff, probably more. Of course, in dollars that's just three to four dollars, but on the local dole that's quite a bit of something.

If you’re visiting or living in Tbilisi and looking for your next caffeine fix, you’d do well to try these places. They're in no particular order, as coffee is highly subjective. And do note that most of the more hipster drinks tend to be lighter than what you're used to in Europe or the States.


The first I worked on this list was back in 2019, but now that I'm back in Tbilisi, I'm trying my best to update it for you. The cafe scene has absolutely exploded, so I find myself updating this blog (and the map at the end) almost every other day now. The cafes listed below I've personally verified and have sipped from their mugs, while the ones on the map include those I've only found out about and have yet to check out.


If you find a worthy temple to coffee and culture, send me an email and let me know, or comment wherever you found a link to this blog. Same goes if one of these was no longer around.

1. Prospero’s Books and Caliban’s Coffee

Prospero’s deserves the honorable place at the top of the list for being the first real indy coffee shop to enter the Tbilisi market. It was the primary place of gathering for expats through those dark ages of the coffee bean when instant coffee ruled the land supreme. In 1999, they started roasting their own beans and had one of Tbilisi’s only espresso machines for probably about 10 years. It started as a place to sit and read your latest literary purchase from the bookstore that it shares a beautiful little courtyard with. Incidentally, I’ve never heard of the coffee house being called “Caliban’s” except on their official marketing material, as most locals tend to refer to both the bookstore and cafe as "Prospero's".

The interior is spacious, having both places for laptop soldiers and those who want to sit back, relax, and chat with friends. The patio is unbeatable in terms of coffee shops in Tbilisi, so it makes for an especially great spot in the spring or summer. They've also managed to open a similar place in the National Archives on Pekini.


2. Daily Grind


Leaning on the new wave style, Daily Grind serves a great cuppa as well as all your other coffee shop mainstays. They have a very chic and modern interior, friendly staff, and they didn't bother me while I was writing a blog. All pluses, so I'll definitely be back. The seating is limited though, and the croissants look delicious, but they're 12 GEL and I have a 10 lari limit for pastries.


The coffee bar at the Daily Grind
The coffee bar at the Daily Grind

3. No More Mondays


Located on Rustaveli just across from the old Soviet Printing House cum upscale hotel and dining halls and covered in EU/Ukraine/US graffiti, we've got No More Mondays. The coffee is on point there, though the dishes are a bit tad high in price. That said, I tried a lavender brownie there and the thing literally melted in my mouth. Had to eat it with a fork, but it was possibly the best brownie I've ever had. Worth the 12 lari or whatever I paid (seriously though, for tourists that's just 4 euros).


The place is small, but the walls open up in good weather and it spills onto the sidewalk. The staff leave you alone if you want to get some work done on your laptop, and it's a generally friendly, if hipster-y, atmosphere. I'll be going back for another one of those brownies myself.



4. Moulin Electrique

 

Back in the day when your only choice was Prospero’s, these wonderful proprietors on Leselidze (now Kote Aphkhazi St.) made an investment in an espresso machine, thereby kicking off the Lavazza movement. Moulin Electrique has such a great old-fashioned feel to it, and with the hidden little courtyard tucked away in the old town it makes for a perfect escape from the tourist crowds and touts. They have a fantastic kitchen as well, so don’t be afraid to grab a meal here either. They also have a location in Fabrika, so enjoy a fresh brew while you're there.


But because they have a kitchen, keep in mind you shouldn't set up camp with a laptop around meal hours. At off hours, their more than fine with any laptop surfing/remote work you've got to do.


5. Coffee LAB

27 Kazbegi Ave, Saburtalo

 

The unofficial American coffee embassy, I imagine this place met many cheers after opening its location near the Peace Corps office. If only it were there back in my volunteering days. That said, it’s almost always packed with people eager to get their hands on modern mugs, V60s, and aeropresses. They also serve pretty amazing brownies. The interior has a lot of space to get work done (but the tables are often all full) and as the coffee shop is literally in a garden, the outdoor seating area is beautiful to boot. There’s a playground in the garden as well, so for those with kids you can let them roam about while catering to your legal addiction.


They've also expanded to two Vake locations, fancy them.



 

6. Shavi Roasters


With two stellar locations, Shavi has answered the call of undernourished hipster locations that were curiously without proper coffees. Both locations have room to work, though the Marjanishvili one is slightly larger and more comfortable. The Vera one is more suitable to chatting with a friend or two or taking a date to "have a cup of coffee". Like, an actual one. The one in Sololaki is a tiny hole in the wall with a nice little patio space, but it's always overflowing with people out onto the street, so just about impossible to order.


Clean, modern interiours, friendly service, and strong coffee—as well they shood, since "Shavi" means "Black" in Georgian. All good marks in my book.


8. Stories


Tabidze is lined with overpriced tourist dineries. The street itself was envisioned as a lovely pedestrian street, but the city gave up and now its basically a parking lot with speeding Glovo scooter drivers zipping around. But once upon a time, it was a kind of lovely spot to stroll, free from the touts that line the other pedestrian streets in town.


Almost to the end of the pedestrian section, Stories makes its home. There used to be another cafe here, but it's long gone, now in this newer, slightly cheaper formulation. So if you're on Tabidze looking for coffee, skip Paul and head to Stories. Good coffee with those old school over-sized cups and a cozy atmosphere. And, in my short experience, a waitress who really loves Dua Lipa.


coffee in tbilisi
Stories Cafe on Tabidze

10. Santino


Santino is one of those joints that have sprang up in post-renovation Orbeliani. After they renovated the area, I was really afraid that it was going to end up like Neu-Tiflis, with touts chasing everyone off and killing the scene. But thankfully, that has yet to happen, so these newly-cobbled roads are actually quite welcoming. There's an outdoor piano at one of the restaurants, so sitting outside at the broad patio space Santino boasts can be quite pleasant.


The place has a pretty extensive coffee list and also serves as an eatery, mostly breakfast offerings (another crazy thing since my return, breakfasts in Tbilisi!). The place has a much more upscale feel to it, lots of "stylish" lips poofed out here. And it's an atmo that you might find more at home in Vienna (despite the Italian name, heh), though I was not harassed when I pulled out my tablet to write a blog. My cappucino ran me for 12 lari.




11. ViceVersa

Really plush and cozy spot for your high-end coffee fans with an emphasis on the Italian styles of serving. Great customer service and with a small interior. It does feature a nice little outdoor streetside patio for those enjoying the summertime in Vake and wanting to get off Chav for a spell.

coffee in saburtalo
 The old ViceVersa in Saburtalo, just behind the double Carrefour mayhem

12. Kombinat


Kombinat is a sleek, underground (literally) lace in the winding streets of Gareubani just across from the Mushroom House. And I just found out it was a chain, after a friend of mine read this blog. And THEN, I realized I actually had been to another location, at Chugureti, which has quite a bit more upscale feel (with the same low prices). So if you find yourself at the Mushroom House or around Marjanishvili for any kind of official business, make sure to stop by for a cup of coffee. The places are weirdly inexpensive, as if they were caught in a time bubble from 2019. They also have some nice lunch plates and pastries.


13. Coffeesta


This list would be incomplete without Coffeesta. Coffeesta is the native Georgian answer to Starbucks, and serves almost as the righteous Georgian shield against that independent coffee-killing machine. They seemed to have modeled a lot off of the good things Starbucks has, like frappucinos, a good-enough americano, local cultural elements, and the color green. For those who can’t get by without Starbucks, then pop in to one of Coffeesta’s many locations around town. The pic below is from the old one on Rustaveli, which I myself stopped going to as they put a 1-hour time limit only for laptops. And they accosted me on it, though I always make it a duty to re-order or skidaddle if the place gets busy. But whatever, I get it, they preferred the place to be empty more often than not.


coffee in Tbilisi
 The Coffeesta next to Rustaveli metro is probably one of the best places to laptop camp in TBS

 

14. Entrée


For those preferring a bit of French café elegance, Entrée fills that gap nicely. With a selection of amazing pastries and baguettes, Entrée tends to be the best place to get a light breakfast in town. The coffee isn’t to die for—just your regular Lavazza-type stuff—but it’s usually a good option of seat-camping and reading. Like Luca Polare, they also serve some great ice cream and cakes.

I’ve only listed my favorite (and biggest) locations, but there are plenty more scattered on corners throughout town. The ones I’ve listed all have roomy interiors, enough so that you don’t feel guilty for hogging a seat while surfing the net or reading.


Tbilisi tour

15. Luca Polare

 

I think I managed to cover all of the Luca Polare branches in that list, though just go to their page for a complete list. More Italian style, this local chain named for a polar bear pours out the more traditional brews of espressos and americanos along with the tastiest ice cream in Tbilisi. Really, it's an ice cream shop that serves coffee, but it counts anyway.


Oddly enough, they contract their roasting to a family in Germany who ships it back here. Whatever they do, it’s the right mix for your more traditional styles, with highly trained baristas ready to pour.


The Aghmashenebeli and Rustaveli locations have more than enough room to hang out and get some work done. The other locations are small and more about getting a to-go cup to enjoy the surroundings.


 Luca Polare's Aghmashenebeli location, a popular spot in the summertime
 Luca Polare's Aghmashenebeli location, a popular spot in the summertime

Am I missing anywhere? What’s your favorite place to grab a cup of coffee in Tbilisi?


Looking for something to read while having a cup? Check out my book of short stories (many taking place in Georgia) called Hunger, available here on Amazon. You can even read it on a free app from Kindle. I've also got an audiotour of Rustaveli here on VoiceMap.


And a handy coffee map for you:






medeival festival in brussels


For one weekend only, from May 30th to June 1st, the monumental Cinquantenaire Park takes everyone back to the medieval times with the Marche Medieval (medieval market). Neo-folk musicians, beer stands, amusement rides, tight rope walkers, HEMA sword fights, tons of food stalls, and more fill up the park. Come to think of it, there’s actually very little historical medieval about it, except the mood and décor, but whatever. Suspend your constant overanalyzing of everything for just a second and have a nice relax.


And even despite the ridiculous amount of inaccuracies, it’s one of my favorite festivals in Brussels. It’s where my son saw his first “knight fight” and stirred his excitement to go to Carcassonne and see the mother of all castles. It’s also another reason to drink outside and kind of ushers in the season.


medeival times Brussels festival
The tight rope walker in 2024

Usually in May, the weather is okay and for a few hours you might even get some sunshine. But also rain. So, if you’re planning a trip to Brussels in May do bring a raincoat. Especially if you’re going to an outdoor festival, as I’ve been caught in the rain every year that I went.

The festival is free and has got plenty to do for the whole family.


For the adults

There are plenty of beer stands spread throughout the festival, this is Europe after all. But the best is a hut that’s usually placed at the hypotenuse of the fountain and the music stage. They have a two different flavors of beer: the standard Le Coque Sauvage (that’s the Wild Cock for you non-Francophones), and then another infused with smoke or some bullshit like that.


And then there’s the shows on stage, which set some mood music. It seems like every “medieval” performance is a recreation of Heilung’s Viking disco beats these days, but whatever. Still sounds like it could be medieval.


Brussels medieval music
"Medieval" music at the Marche

The food is… there are a lot of choices, but it ain’t cheap. It’s Brussels after all. The last time I ate there I had spent the entire day there drinking with my mates, and we went up to a stall, and in my drunken haze ordered a possibly triple serving—my French had completely abandoned me, and I was speaking a rather mixed jibber-jabber of Russian-Georgian-English so I had no idea what I was getting, but pretended to be fine with that even as I tapped out 30 euros on my phone.


That didn’t seem right.


But then my friend and I were looking at it as we sat back down with our food and beers and indeed, that did seem right. Crazy overpriced, but correctly charged.


For the kids

And I mentioned amusement rides! Which is something most people don’t think of when they think of the medieval times, unless you’re thinking of Tyrion with his hookers. But these things are like modern amusement rides that could have existed way back then (but didn’t).


For one thing, they’re giant wood contraptions and entirely powered by hand. There are a couple of varieties of carousels and a small Ferris wheel.



Let’s start with this huge spinning carousel. It takes three guys to start rotating the thing, and it winds up and up and up, with a rope winding around a pole like it’s May Day. Then they let it go and it unwinds. Simple, yet works quite well, getting quite some speed and dizziness up.


The small Ferris wheel has about six baskets with four children each. The two keepers just pull down on handles and set it spinning. Easy peasy.


See what I mean? These things could have existed in the medieval times, but they didn’t. Still, they’re fun for kids, and run 3 to 5 euro a ride each. And since it’s medieval times, they don’t take card. So parents, bring your cash.


Brussels family medieval market
The little man trying his skill at crossbow

They also have loads of little faire games, like crossbow shooting where you shoot dragons and ghosts, catapult launching where you try to knock down a castle with a miniature catapult, arrow shooting, rope climbing, and so on. Good times for all.


Medieval vs Renaissance Faire

The modern Renaissance/Medieval Faire in Europe has a rather circuitous route and isn’t at all original to Europe. It is, in fact, like most good things in life, an American invention.

Now I’m not saying that there aren’t festivals that have medieval styles. Not at all.


Ommegang here in Brussels has been going for half a millennium, using costumes from the original days. Rather, what I’m saying, a medieval faire for the sake of medieval faires wasn’t really a European thing.


It seems a bit silly. Especially when it’s not linked to a religious feast day, a King’s wedding, a stolen statue of Mary, or any of the other number of reasons to have festivals. It’s just literally a festival to have a festival.


World War II

A lot of things came to the United States with the GI’s coming home from World Wars, and I’m not just talking Syphilis, crappers, and Irish coffee. Our soldiers got enamored with all the burning German castles and cute French villages with the Norman and Belgian ladies tossing themselves into the arms of our heroes. And with all that, they were like, “Hey Joe, this medieval shit is cool, isn’t it?” “Oy mate, innit?” the other GI replies, trying to sound European himself.


The soldiers brought back this love of medieval stuff, exchanging their cowboy hats for coifs, that the Renaissance picked up. An LA history teacher, Phyllis Patterson, decided to hold one in her backyard, and this soon transformed into the Renaissance Pleasure Faire. Her idea was to stress some level of “authenticity”; everyone would have to wear beltless trousers, speak in British accents, and drink wine with their pinkies up, as they did.


tour brussels

The thing is though, before the age of the Internet, Americans didn’t really have an effing clue what was going on in medieval times in Europe. We basically only knew about knights, princesses, castles, dragons, elves, fairies, and all that other wild, crazy stuff going on in Europe. And so, that’s what our Renaissance faires looked like (most of us didn’t really realize “Renaissance” was well out of “Medieval Times” anyway, but we’d still have a restaurant chain happily blending the eras).


I grew up in love with the medieval world, going to every Renaissance Faire that I could (my favorite was just south of Denver, where they had built a fairly decent-looking and legit castle—I say legit because it’s just as legit as something like Neuschwanstein, which was wholly built to cater to Ludwig II’s gay orgies; I’m not sure what the difference is here, except I guess his parties were more fun).


A quest for identity

And now we come back to the Brussels Medieval Market. This isn’t your old-fashioned feast day faire or flea market (Brussels has plenty of those too). This is all the stereotype and virtuosity and suspense of belief as the medieval Americaine has, full of wizards, elves, and burly Germans showing off their man-tits.


For me though, having grown up in a world pre-Internet, where even the prospect of watching a jousting match in friggin’ Tulsa, Oklahoma was a mind-blowing explosion of awesome, it was interesting to see the European versions of medieval festivals. Even the fighting, HEMA (Historical European Martial Arts), found a rebirth in the US before being re-imported back into Europe. John Clements was an American pioneer in reconstructing medieval and Renaissance fighting techniques.


Before HEMA was reimported, most “traditional” styles revolved around foil fighting in sports clubs. This of course, looks legit, but when it comes down to it, fighting with a foil and a rope tied to your back is a far cry from half-swording and jabbing blades between armor gaps.


HEMA knight fight in Brussels
Guys anachronistically bashing each other

But it makes sense that these things were American. You have lots of Americans who know they generally come from Europe, might only have a vague idea of which country, certainly not know the language, and are mostly just gravy-fed history about it. And so there are questions. “Where are we from?” “What should my traditions be?” and so on.


The quest for Black identity, which asks those same questions, but for the reason of them being ripped from their roots, is very much mirrored by White identity, since most Whites don’t know where the heck they came from either (and for the last time, you’re not from Ireland, even if you are drinking a Guinness on St. Patty’s).


So with this struggle to find who they are, the thirst to really dig into history and "identity" is much stronger for Americans, I think. Europeans, by and large, know who they are and where they stand. They’ve known that for centuries.


brussels medieval market
Strolling, drinking, eating...

So is it a real surprise that we’re all excited about Tolkien and elves and knights and that kind of thing? And since that stuff is actually all good fun, is it any surprise that Euros were like, “Well, why not have an elf join us for a beer?”


Cinquantenaire Fun

This weekend will mark the 30th anniversary of the Etterbeek Medieval Marche, which is why, I suppose, they made it a bit later in the month. 30th anniversary on the 30th day, something like that. Or maybe they figured it was less likely to rain, who knows?


But the Cinquantenaire Park was made for festivals like this. And those big, Roman-looking arches really set the atmosphere for medieval fun.


At the end of the day, everyone is looking to find out who they are, where they belong, and what makes them who they are. And this is all just a part of that. So enjoy a Savage Cock and give me a toast.

 

Updated: May 16


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Some millennium-and-a-half ago, the mountain peak where the Jvari Monastery of Mtskheta now stands was bald. Until a woman, St. Nino, stuck a cross at its highest point, drawing in questioning pagans en masse for conversions via her ministry. Today, the monastery stands resilient, still serving the same function, but swap pagans for tourists—bus loads of mostly Russians and Chinese these days, curious at the ancient Orthodox monument.


Light shines through the window openings inside, illuminating the drifting dust particles; one monk-priest chants while another sits quietly, observing people dropping coins into a small box and taking candles for their own prayers. It’s the standard gentle chaos of a Georgian church, and in a place where the age itself makes for the mysticism, as the murals have long faded and the outer walls long crumbled.


Down below, you can see the holy city of Mtskheta parked between the tight confluence of the Aragvi and Mtvari rivers. The Aragvi coming from the highlands, something pure and unblemished, crystalline waters that are perfect for the breweries further up north. The Mtkvari, muddy, polluted with the rubbish of dozens of towns and villages across Georgia and Türkiye, and with the runoff from the manganese mines of Chiatura and its black Kvirila River.


Mtskheta
The confluence of the Aragvi and Mtkvari

The hills here are carved in steep trenches, with narrow ridges making the upper reliefs. I looked across the valley and saw a small wedding on one such ridge, daring the wind not to make off with a hat or veil. The wedding arch made an Insta-perfect view of Svetitskhoveli Cathedral far down below.


a wedding on a ridge
A wedding on the ridge

Jvari is part of the holy trinity of tourist destinations that every Tbiliseli Georgian will take a foreign guest on if given the chance. The other two places are Svetitskhoveli in the center of Mtskheta and Salobie, just outside of town. All three holy places in their own right.


As such, let’s take a quick tour of Mtskheta and the cathedral too. Though last weekend I only managed to squeeze in Jvari and Salobie, but c’est la vie, mes amis.


Mtskheta

It was one of the first capitals of Kartli and one of the oldest, continuously occupied cities in the world, with a founding date of sometime in the 2nd millennium BC. So old that the pagans (you know, the ones that were gathering around in interest at that strange lady on the hill propping up a cross) attributed its founding to the legendary founder of their people, Kartlos.


ad for the book, Hunger, by Shawn Basey

That’s, of course, the Netflix version, while historians generally just attribute the city to the Meskhian Georgians, since their name sounds like the city. And if that were the case, the city would be much younger, having been founded with their migration at around 500 BC. Either way, it’s pretty friggin’ old.


There’s not much to do in town other than the trinity of tourism that I mentioned (there is also the Samtavro Convent and part of an old bridge they say was built by a time traveling Pompeius Magnus, since the bridge is likely only 200 years or so old). Much of the center has been redone in “Georgian old town style”, with some newly cobbled streets lined with arts, crafts, and cheap plastic Chinese toys, making a kind of pilgrims’ walk to the cathedral.


Given the nice Georgian Old Town Style reconstruction, it also rivals Sighnaghi, City of Love, for wedding destinations, where a wedding signing building was constructed just for that purpose on the square outside Svetitskhoveli.


Svetitskhoveli Cathedral

Svetitskhoveli (Svet-its-throatclearing-o-vell-ee) is the big thing in Mtskheta. Literally. It towers over the entire town and is visible from all around, even the highway where the cars whizz by up the hill across the river.


The story goes that back in the time of Jesus, there was a Georgian in the crowd of His admirers. This man, named Elias, ended up with Jesus’s robe after the crucifixion (not His shroud, mind you, that’s an entirely different thing). He brought it back home to his sister Sidonia, who was so overwhelmed by its holiness that she naturally drops dead while clutching it. As nobody could pry it from her dead hands, she was buried with it.


ad for audio tour of Neu-Tiflis

And like with so many good religious stories, a tree grew at that place.


A few centuries later, St. Nino, who I mentioned above, came around, and decided that this tree marked the spot to build a church to Our Lord. They chopped it down and, from the wood, built six pillars, while the seventh they had meant to place hung in the air. It soon came down, with myrrh oozing out, and became known as the “Life-Giving Pillar” (which is what the name of the church translates to).


The current construction

The wood church was short-lived though and was soon replaced in the 5th century with a stone structure and then was greatly expanded in the 11th century in a story you can read about by Konstantin Gamsakhurdia, called The Right Hand of the Master.


Konstantin was out pondering why there was a big right hand carved into a stone block near the top of the church. And whether he gathered local legend or came up with it himself, it follows the tragic story of most famous architects of the past.


Svetitskhoveli
See the hand on the left under the arch?

The legend goes like this: After Arsukidze, the Grandmaster mason, finished his masterpiece, King Giorgi I was so impressed he had Arsukidze’s hand chopped off so he couldn’t build anything so magnificent.


Konstantin’s version, which is a little more believable, is that King Giorgi was so impressed about Arsukidze’s boldness in sleeping with the local hottie, that the king had his main man’s hand chopped off.


And to add an additional layer of meaning, both the Life-Giving Pillar and the church it was named for, represents a single, united Georgia, and as such is one of the holiest places in the country. Giorgi I didn’t have much left to unite, since his father King Bagrat III did most of the heavy lifting on that by 1008. But at least he was able to build the primary symbol of the nation’s unity. And just as he built upon a pre-existing foundation with the church, so did he with the nation in solidifying the dynastic rule.


The architecture

The cathedral is a classic Georgian cross-dome and has through history been plagued by fires, invaders, earthquakes, and more. Little of Arsukidze’s creation still exists, as much has been repaired over the years, hence the spotty carvings and mismatched bricks (the same violent and tragic story told on many churches across Georgia).


Svetitskhoveli
The gatehouse

The interior

The ground is paved with the graves of fallen kings and heroes of Georgian history, and this was the place most were crowned during their lives long before. On the rare occasion that the place is empty of tourists (good luck with that), you can almost feel the mysticism dripping form the ghost of the bleeding pillar.


Svetitiskhoveli
The Life-Giving Pillar on the right

And that place is marked too: there’s another mini-chapel, house right, that stands over the place where they cut down the tree in St. Nino’s time, and thus also marks the spot of Christ’s garment.


The walls are somewhat of a patchwork.


Throughout the ages, the interiors of Georgian churches were covered in beautiful and colorful frescoes from floor to ceiling. But this was not in the Russian fashion, and all people whom the Russians love must of course follow their fashion. So, when Tsar Nicolas I decided to visit the holiest place of Georgia in the 1830s, they decided to spruce the place up to not offend his holiness and painted everything white.


Unfortunately, the Holy Tsar never showed up and they painted it all for nothing. But in later restorations, they managed to uncover some fragments.


You can see various Biblical scenes up to 400 years old, towards the dome you can see Christ Pantokrator (i.e., the Almighty), and to the back right, a 13th century “Beast of the Apocalypse” which features zodiac signs.


Christ Pantokrator
Christ Pantokrator, Christ Almighty

Jvari Monastery of Mtskheta

Another legend has it that from the royal palace, they had dug a tunnel under the river and up the hill, so that the royal family could escape in case of invaders. That tunnel exited at Jvari Monastery, a place nearly as holy as Svetitskhoveli. There is no evidence of the tunnel though, and no cool climb downs (I did climb through a tunnel nearly as crazy as that sounds at a Crusader castle in Israel).


Jvari is where we started the trip last weekend, with that grand view down.


The story goes that St. Nino (the one who had the original Svetitskhoveli built), had become good friends with King Mirian III, whom she was teaching about Christianity. And after his conversion, she set up a big wooden cross at the top of this hill declaring the victory of Christ over paganism.


A small church was built around the cross in the 6th century, and then the larger church of today in the 7th century. Jvari is a “four-apsed church with four-niches” and resembles something more like a Byzantine Church than other churches you might see in Georgia today. But for some time, Georgian churches did copy Jvari, and you see the style pop up in a few other places (e.g., Dzveli Shuamta and Manglisi Sioni).


Jvari Monastery
Jvari Monastery

The strangest thing about the architecture of Jvari is the interior, where you can find a large, earthen mound filling the center. This marks the exact spot where St. Nino placed her cross and is still adorned with a wooden cross (a fancy new one, not the original).


That’s where the name comes from too, “Jvari”, which means “cross” in Georgian.


Salobie

Depending on who you’re with, it’s hard to tell which of the trinity is most beloved on the trip. Where Jvari and Svetitskhoveli are 80 percent packed with foreign tourists and 20 percent packed with Georgian ones, the former are largely disseminated by the various overpriced fares placed around town while the Georgians all split to hit Salobie.


“Salobie” (sa-lobe-ee-eh) in Georgian means, “place of beans”, or perhaps, “Bean House”. As such, beans must be ordered. And its fitting, because beans are a holy meal, becoming the main staple during the long haul that is the Great Fast before Easter. But at Salobie, they don’t only serve beans, as they also serve all the classic Georgian peasant food, at prices that can hardly be beat anywhere in the country.


Back to the translation. It’s specifically the “place of lobio”, and lobio can be described, as one American I was with put it, “like something almost like Mexican refried beans”. It’s long stewed beans, served here in the traditional clay pot. Properly you should order it with the mchadi on top of it like a cap. As hungry as I was, I failed to take a picture of it, so here I’ll post an after pic where you can see empty clay pots. And also to be honest, usually I'm out with friends and not so concerned about the blog. And then when I finally think about, shemogvichame (or something that I think means "we accidentally ate it all").


empty dishes on a table
Empty clay pots that were once full of lobio

The place has been around for ages, perhaps even predating the Soviet era. Who knows. The place is huge, has tons of outdoor seating, and the indoor seating is very “ethnic chic”.


So, if you’re in Mtskheta making the pilgrimage to St. Nino’s cross, or paying your respects to Georgian heritage—whatever be your wiles—and you get hungry, then ditch the tourist fare and go where the locals go: the Bean House.



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