Rabati Reborn

It was once a pile of crumbling ruins on the hill of a sad metropolis. Always grey skies, or raining, or if not that then sunny, hot, and dusty. Then one day someone had a grand vision to rebuild it all and make a wedding house out of it, somewhere nice for the locals of Akhalsitkhe to take fancy pictures and maybe not have their celebration in some hotel that for the rest of the year serves as a brothel or a refuge for very lost tourists.

That is, I guess, how Rabati came to be.

And why not?

I’ll admit I’ve been a detractor myself. But what was once there before was hardly a useful place to bring tourists, and now that I’ve been to Rabati with bright-eyed tourists not yet bogged down by the cynicism of thousands of liters of wine, I’ve grown to appreciate the site myself.

entering Rabati

A bit of history

The grounds here are fertile with history, and though what has bloomed is nothing but a complex of hotels, meeting rooms, and Instagram-perfect portrait studios, it’s still something beautiful where there was only the vague remnants of grey stone. And to their credit, they took some effort to restore the semblance of the great castle and citadel that once stood there. So why not indeed?

Come for the castle, stay for the "Gino paradise", whatever that means

What stands now as Rabati Castle was first built by Georgians as Lomisa Castle in the 9th century and by the 13th century was the capital of the Principality of Samtskhe, ruled over by the House of Jakeli. Here Queen Tamar often stayed, commanding her legions against the Turks, sending out her husband-consort David Soslan to crush the Turks at Bassiani and secure a hundred years or so of peace and prosperity for the Georgians.

Those golden years would end with Tamerlane and his “Mongols” riding in and devastating any land that would stand against him. In 1393, Lomisa finally fell. The fortress carried on nominally independent but mostly under Persian Safavid rule, a dismal reminder of what glory there had once been, until finally it was ceded to the Ottomans in 1590.

The Ottomans completely redesigned the castle. A medieval city within the curtain walls (now something of a park and restaurant/hotel complex) led up the stairs to the actual castle, itself having two more layers. There was the outer layer, which held the mosque and an Islamic school (and an Orthodox church that managed to peter on through the Ottoman regime, good news for all those weddings), and the further interior containing the citadel, where the regional governor would have lived and also where the dungeon was (and in the case of an invasion, the site of a last stand for the castle).

The mosque, freshly restored during the renovations (but only as a museum... until Hagia Sophia is restored!)

The Ottomans were constantly banging heads with the Romanovs, as the Turkish and Russian empires shared a very long border, from Crimea down to Armenia, tearing the Georgian territories into numerous parts. The Russians, for their part, were at least gluing some of those bits together under their own sovereignty, and in 1810 launched an attack to claim Samskhe-Javakheti, which meant confronting the Ottomans at Rabati. The Ottomans held up, but finally lost to the combined Russian and Georgian forces under the Russian general, Ivan Paskevich after some 30 years of intermittent fighting.

The old madrasa

It was then largely abandoned and ignored, falling into severe ruin (like most of the string of fortresses in the region), until 2011 when renovations took place (unlike most of the string of fortresses in the region). If you want to get a look at an “authentic” castle, or get a feel for what Rabati once looked like, you can visit Akhalkalaki, about an hour and a half away.

Akhaltsikhe from above

Feeling like a wedding? Just maybe you'll get some better weather...

Now though there are beautiful gardens, a wedding chapel, a history museum, and a citadel, all back and looking as good as new... because they are as good as new. You can walk along the ramparts, explore the entrance tunnels, view the city from above, and see an exhibit of what Meskhetian houses look like (in the citadel).

Heading up to the citadel

The castle gardens... one wonders if it was so beautiful in medieval times...

Getting to Rabati isn't too hard, but it is uncomfortable, as passenger rail no longer goes there from Tbilisi (you can take it as far as Borjomi, then you have to get on a marshrutka, I have no idea when this stopped, but it's clear that there was passenger rail in Soviet times, a period which any train lover gets all teary-eyed). It is, luckily, only a 10 minute walk from the marshrutka station. Akhalsitkhe Marshrutkas leave from Didube in Tbilisi.

If you're driving, note that the parking lot and entrance to the castle is here. At the traffic circle, you'll want to go under the passenger rail bridge.

Not just Rabati

There’s a history museum there. But I recommend anyone visiting to go there before 6 and actually see it. I’ve never been, as Rabati is always my last stop giving tours, first Vardzia, then Khertvisi, then here. If you have the time, Akhalsitkhe is definitely worth visiting for a few days, so to also see all the secondary sites, and here I don’t mean just the history museum, but also 10th century Sapara Monastery (if you haven’t been overwhelmed by churches and monasteries on your visit to Georgia, than perhaps this a tier one sight, better than Rabati), Tmogvi, Vanis Cave Monastery, the old half-abandoned mud-roofed Meskhetian villages, and by extension the megaliths on the other side of the Tianeti Range. But if you have a day you’ve got a day, eh?

There will always be those detractors about Rabati, claiming this or that is not “authentic” enough. Go around half of Europe. You mean to tell me those castles are the least bit authentic?

Where to stay and eat?

I've only stayed in Akhalsitkhe once. It was in a real budget-rate hotel, with an Armenian wedding going on downstairs, and I imagine the place wasn't used for anything savory during the off season. But Akhalsitkhe looks light years better than what I remember it as, and might be even worth a visit. If you've got the money, you can even stay at a luxury hotel within the castle itself: Hotel Gino Wellness. The restaurant across from there is also strangely affordable for being right smack in the middle of the main tourist attraction.

Hotel Gino's internal examination

If you're staying, I recommend eating at Pizza and Cake House at 61 Kostava and ordering a pizza. It's more of a xachapuri/pizza or perhaps a calzone, with the pizza baked into the bread itself. We ordered one set of topping and got another set, so be ready for a surprise. It was delicious though, so I can't argue about what we got.

If you want to eat on the road to or from Vardzia, I'd recommend hitting Cafe Leki, which is about at the halfway point on the highway. Super friendly people, and their entire selection of food is grown and slaughtered by the family, from tomatoes to pigs.

If you don't have a car, then it's easiest to stay in town. If you do have a car, then maybe it's even better to make this trip into two or three nights and base yourself near Vardzia at my favorite place, Guesthouse Tirebi in Aspindza.

#Akhaltsikhe #Rabati #castles #touristicsites #history

Vardzia, Khertvisi, and the House of Tears

The day before we had had our failed quest to reach the megaliths of Paravani. We kept to our schedule and made it to the Vardzia area late at night, after eating at Akhalkalaki and a short pee-stop at a derailed train hanging over the river (and then a short search for where the hell the rail line whence that train car came from was).

The Guest House

I wish we had just pushed on and ate dinner at the place we were staying, Guest House Tirebi. When we arrived, the kitchen was still open, and guests were served in something of a great hall—stone walls and long wooden tables, the only thing killing the mood was the bright tiling. But it was all beautiful nevertheless. The kid was hungry, so we had some food brought out for him. From the American-style pancakes served in the morning though, I wish I had ordered dinner there was well. Terrific stuff.

At Guesthouse Tears

The family had started as hoteliers about ten years ago. They got a grant from the American government, and subsequently built two hotels by hand. The hotel we stayed at was right on the side of the highway to Vardzia, overlooking a small lake and with a nice view down the canyon to a random mountaintop castle. Her other hotel was on a small farm, whence they got all the produce and milk products they serve at both hotels. You can stay on the farm and help out, or stay in the upper hotel and not help with farm stuff. She plans on eventually teaching Georgian cooking classes (in Russian), and her son speaks fluent English, so don’t be afraid to call (+995 599 338 871).

The view from the guesthouse

They pick up from Tbilisi airport, a large Delica for 300 gel or a smaller jeep for 200 gel, with a direct transfer to their hotel. They also offer tours to Vardzia. Eating dinner and breakfast there, there’s definitely a great communal feel, and the owners come out and hang out quite frequently and are happy to chat with whoever can chat with them. You can tell they’ve put a lot of love into the place.

Vardzia

Vardzia is one of the more incredible places in Georgia, and must be on any list of “have-to-see” places. Logically, because of Georgia’s infrastructure, you often have to cut some places short, but definitely have it your list for one-of-the-times-you-visit Georgia. It’s about a four-hour drive from Tbilisi (3 hours, depending on how creative your driver is), but it’s well worth the trek, and can be combined with Borjomi, Akhalsitkhe, and Khertvisi, or as we did, you can take the route with the megaliths, which after the roads are finished, may actually end up being a faster route.

View from the start. Along with an sign for their patron saint.

Vardzia was founded as a cave monastery and as a refuge for civilians fleeing Turkish marauders (though caves there and in the area have shown some evidence of use since the Bronze Age, the actual rock cuttings and additional buildings weren’t until the Christian period). It was mostly built in the 1100s during Giorgi III and the reign his son King Tamar. The name supposedly comes from when Tamar was lost there as a child, and shouted to her uncle (or close man-friend), “I’m here, Uncle!”

Vardzia saw less use after Tamar’s victory over the Turks at the Battle of Basian, where she smashed the Seljuk Sultanate of Rum much like Ben Shapiro smashes homeless liberals on the streets of New York. The remains of the smashed Seljuks were brought back to Tbilisi, where they built a giant football stadium and nightclub underneath (true story).

The Seljuks laid off for a while, but Georgia finally succumbed to the hordes of Mongolians rolling through, ending suddenly their golden age (and everyone’s golden age as well, as that’s what Mongolians did best).

After a series of earthquakes crumbled most of the structures and fortifications in the 13th century, Vardzia fell to disuse and finally to Persians in the 1500s and the Ottomans just after.

The only structure that's really left.

When you wander around the half-cave structures, keep in mind that there used to be buildings standing on these foundations, which would have made the site of it completely different and much more magnificent. Not to say it’s not a grand site as it is, but these weren’t all patios, but also great halls, guestrooms, shops, bakeries, and so on, all the little things of a medieval market economy. There is one remaining tower in the center, which leaves you with a vague impression of how the other structures would have once looked back in the day.

Primitive toilets or cooking pits? You decide.

One recurring thing you’ll see are strange holes in the ground with a kind of slot on the side. This was so you could light a fire and set a big clay amphora on it to make a hearty stew or to heat up water. The hole served both the purpose of letting oxygen in and smoke out, along with allowing them to put a big stick in and use as a lever. You can also find a few marani rooms—wine cellars used for storing wines in underground amphorae (Georgian winemaking qvevri, to be precise).

The Church of the Dormition, the main attraction

The main site, the Church of the Dormition, was built during Tamar’s reign. The chapel is open to the cliff, with wall paintings on the outside. Entering in the church door reveals the main chapel, high domed and covered in medieval murals. Going through the other door leads to a small labyrinthine complex of tunnels. First there’s a chapel with some candles and icons. A corridor to the left leads to a spring, and the corridor up the stairs on the right goes to another small chapel-within-a-chapel, and further tunnels that exit out upper chambers.

The Bolnisi Cross surrounded by the Four Archangels

Icon of St. George, inside one of the chambers next to the Church

Outside of the Church, there are hundreds of caves with various living features, from cooking pots, to wine making, to shelves for an apothecary, to stables. With the maze of up and down staircases, one gets the feeling they’re in the movie Labyrinth, or perhaps an M.C. Escher painting.

You might end up upside-down and backwards in this array

Today there are several monks that still use the cave as their home. You can't enter where the monks actually live—it's railed off—but you can see the area which has a beautiful terrace full of green plants and flowers that they keep. The cable pulleys you see are still used to carry up supplies for the monks. As they have a nice private area, they're probably not too disturbed by all the tourists, but do show some respect around their grounds.

A modern monastery

The whole thing takes about 2 – 3 hours to see, if you’re in a hurry you could probably do it in one. Also keep in mind that you can take their little shuttle up to just below the main level of the site. That'll save you a ton of energy. I just walk it myself though to get the full feel of it.

Khertvisi Castle

If you’re visiting Vardzia, then it’s a sin if you miss Khertvisi Castle, Tamar’s primary castle of the area. It far predates that powerful King/Queen, its walls once standing (and falling) against Alexander the Great himself as he conquered Iberia. Sitting at the confluence of the Paravani and Mtkvari Rivers, the current fortress’s foundations were laid in the 2nd century BC and the walls in the 14th century, with the outer curtain wall added last year.

Alexander the Great once conquered this fortress

When I was first there, about 10 years ago, the place was a ruin, and the only people living there barely saw any living thing around there but cows and chickens. I walked up and inside and discovered it was being used as a mighty cow pen, with manure having fallen everywhere like snow on the mountain tops.

See the fancy tourism facility?

Now though, it has completely been renovated for tourism capacity. The village itself has come to life, with a small market, several beer gardens, a coffee shop, and a café. They’ve paved the road that goes up to the castle, kicked the cows out, built a wall to keep the cows out, and cleaned up all the manure. They’ve also built a visitor’s center, which just seems to serve as a place for someone to collect tickets (which are 5 lari each).

No more manure from ground up

There isn’t much else that’s been reconstructed, so don’t worry. Just the 14th century walls are standing, the interiors are just a very fertile ground. There’s a chapel in there supposedly from the 9th century. Be sure to light some candles.

There’s a fun story about that awkward square tower in the middle. Apparently, Tamar was holding a contest about who could build the most amazing tower for her fortress. A stonemason’s apprentice won the contest, so his master was so ashamed his student outdid him he jumped from the castle onto his well-placed knife and impaled himself on it.

A tower worth dying for

The student that won it decided to try out all the latest fashions in architecture and went with a square keep. They knocked him off so he couldn’t repeat his architectural wonder for anyone else (and so goes just about every architecture legend in the world, making one wonder why anyone ever studied a discipline that got you murdered, blinded, tongue-pulled-out, and so on).

Getting there

We of course went by car. You can take a car either from the Tsalka road (which right now is half under renovation) or from the Borjomi direction (which right now is half under renovation). The Tsalka route is probably a little bit shorter and to me, more interesting, what with those megaliths I was talking about in the last blog and all. If you are one of the un-carred masses, then you’ll have to ride a marshrutka from Akhalsitkhe (and get there by either marshrutka or train from Tbilisi). The marshrutkas leave three times a day, at 10:30, 13:00, 15:00 and cost 5 lari. The routes back are at the same time. If you want to get off to see Khertvisi, just shout the standard “gaucheret!” when the marshrutka turns off the main road and crosses a river.

The car we should have taken on this trip, from a rental company I can vouch for, Family Cars:

You can likewise take a taxi from Akhalsitkhe, and for a hundred lari get to also see Khertvisi and maybe Sapara Monastery if you have time (a very beautiful and sacred place, highly recommended).

A trip can be done in just one day, but that would probably limit you to only Vardzia. I’d highly recommend overnighting either at Tirebi on the road, or at Akhalsitkhe or Borjomi. That way you can also take in Khertvisi, Sapara, and Rabati Castle (my next blog).

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#ruins #castles #touristicsites #history #churches #Tbilisi

Megaliths and the Backroad to Vardzia

Prehistoric monuments, medieval cave cities and castles, canyons, and a hot springs. That was our three day quest that we had set, with very limited success. The team was my Latvian friend, his eleven-year-old son, and myself, crammed into the front seats of his utility van. It had been a relatively cool summer, so with the sun shining as we set off from my apartment, it looked like the perfect start to the trip.

Day 1: Edzana Canyon, Paravani Megaliths, and Akhalkalaki

Our first stop was a canyon. The back route from Tbilisi (Ortachala) to Manglisi was a surprisingly good road. Ortachala itself is a weird neighborhood: The site of one of the main bus stations in Tbilisi, it sits completely disconnected from the metro network, though still accessible by city bus and marshrutka. I remember first being there, when it was mainly just a row of brothels for arriving Armenians, Turks, Azeris, and Persians, with a crumbling, post-apocalyptic Soviet bus station as a centerpiece. The area has improved a lot since that time, with a couple of modern hotel towers rising up above the mess, but our first “megalith” was indeed that crumbling concrete massif our van idled by. It’s also definitely one of the better routes out of town to skip the traffic, so there was that too.

As we got halfway towards Manglisi, we picked up a hitchhiker en route, who was headed to that village. He was a hippie from Germany who gladly hopped into the back of the van. He was on his way back to the village—a popular site for Tbiliselis to have a summer home—where he had apparently left his hat. As a hat man myself, I had the feels for him, so we brought him all the way to the house. And then our first real discovery that though there aren’t many roads in the country side, Google seems positive that there’s a network of roads webbing across the Georgian hinterlands. There isn’t. There really is just one road.

As we followed the route out of town, the road quickly deteriorated into literally nothing. No problem, we’ll just turn around and get out, and then head down another road that did the same thing. Damn you, Manglisi! But wait, this WAS the main road!

So, onto that dirt avenue snaking through the hills we went. The road improved again, though it would prove to be quite patchy all the way to Akhalkalaki (due to a strange selection of road works). The road though, is good enough for any car to make the trip.

Tsalka, Edzana, and Dashbashi

Tsalka is a quaint village close to a large lake that seems completely undiscovered by tourists (even by Georgian tourists), and looks to be a great place for fishing (indeed, you can find a place or two to rent boats) and for just buying fish and grilling it up. It was settled in the early 1800s by Greeks living in Anatolia who were fleeing Turkish persecution after the Greeks had sided with Russia in the Russo-Turkish War. They were taken in by the then Russian Empire and allowed to settle in this scenic steppe. After the Georgian Independence of 1991, and all the chaos that ensued, most of the ethnic Greeks packed up and went to their motherland who was offering free citizenship to those who could prove Greek descent. They've left behind a lot of ruined houses, a crumbling Greek Orthodox Church, and a little Greek restaurant called Pontia.

We turned off just ahead of Tsalka to Dashbashi Canyon.

Edzana Canyon (as it's real name is) is a fairly large and scenic feature itself, with vertical cliffs, and waterfalls (and even its own 11th century church!). The area seems mostly undiscovered, but does seem to have a few hiking outlets (at the very least, a trail that goes down to the canyon). It certainly hasn’t got any of the love from the government that Okatse Canyon has, which might be a good thing really, as leaving places for more rugged hiking should be of some interest for the government as well (though some marked trails where you don’t have the feeling that you’re trespassing is also good).

Dashbashi River and St. George Church

The Dashbashi River is far below, carving its way through the Edzana Canyon. Down below are beautiful waterfalls, and clean, clear water—perfect for swimming on a hot day. Only an hour and a half to two hours from Tbilisi by car, it makes for a great day trip with friends or family. There is a trail that leads down to the swimming hole and back up.

Probably most notably, at the top of the trail is a beergarden. Enjoy!

You can get to Tsalka by marshrutka (from Samgori) or an achingly slow electric train from Station’s Square (I haven’t taken this route and am not one hundred percent confident that it actually exists, despite the officially posted time tables). From Tsalka to the canyon, you’d have to hire a taxi. I’m guessing to get him to drive you there and wait for you would be about 10-20 lari. Cheaper if you know the kartuli.

Paravani Lake and Poka Village

After leaving the canyon and exiting Tsalka, hail started slamming down on our car, acting as a kind of heavy hi-hats for the electronic music blaring out of my friend’s bluetooth speaker. While his kid was trying to show me the rudiments of Candy Crush Family Fun Pack for All! or whatever, I was trying to peer through the mid-July ice storm and see the strange houses that made up Poka Village. They were low lying, stone, with earthen rooftops. A kind of house that I had never seen in Georgia before. This trend, as well as building brick fences from manure (which I imagine they used for heating fuel in the winter), seemed to be a pretty common trend in this nearly untouched region of Georgia.

Shitty fences; in winter it's used for heating fuel

When the hail cleared it, it quickly melted, and as it melted, people emerged out on the streets, all with staves of dead fish swaying in the wind. Tables were suddenly set up, as though the sunlight from the parting clouds acted as a kind of magic ray that split through a shadowy shroud to reveal poker tables of produce and fish. People, eager for a sale, snapping to attention with each glance, and as you move on, the puppet strings fall and they collapse in disappointment.

Paravani Lake and Poka village

Poka—which means “See you!” in Russian, and I’m not sure its Georgian roots—looked to be the remnants of a Soviet resort town, long forgotten, with huge Soviet block apartments once occupied by always ready camps of red scarfed Pioneers, surrounded by those small stone and earthen huts, something quite out of a movie that takes place some time after World War III. Go off the main road of Poka and you make way towards two megaliths: Abuli and Shaori.

Abuli and Shaori Fortress

The two fortresses are so old and lost in time that no one really knows who built them or why they were built. Just that they were apparently there, probably built during the Bronze Age. As the Caucasus was fairly rich in copper ores, a prehistoric civilization once flourished here, building dozens of megaliths across the landscape some time around the 3rd millennium BC. As there was no writing though, we literally have only the stones they left behind.

Following an ancient cobblestone road that's still visible on Google maps

Road, steppe, and mountains

Shaori and Abuli are two such places. Massive stacks of rocks, organized for some purpose (shelter, worship, war, who knows?). Abuli is slightly closer to the lake, while Shaori is a bit of a drive. They are both doable as a day trip from Tbilisi, but there are some caveats.

One, you need a vehicle that can handle off road, or you need to be prepared for a bit of a hike (4 hours round trip, maybe?). We didn’t make Shaori, but it seems like it would be a shorter hike.

Just $20 first two days at teepublic

When we left Poka, the weather was patchy. Sometimes drizzles, sometimes sunny sky. It definitely wasn’t good hiking weather with a kid whose favorite distraction in life was Candy Crush. It was also curiously cold for mid-July, and I had chosen a light, summertime t-shirt.

We decided to drive. Google maps said there was a road there. We started driving the route. The road seemed to not have been used in about 1000 years (curiously there’s a modern maintained road from Takhcha to Akhalkalaki that is NOT on Google maps, go figure). It was a grown over cobblestone path, which I guess was used only by the shepherds driving out their sheep. This was a very popular place for grazing, but nothing else (as such, beware of dogs!). The cobbled road made for curiously easy driving in our utility van, with only a few difficult problems that my friend handed with surprising ease. Finally we made it to the hiking point, where we were planning on parking the car and walking the rest, but the mountain on which the megalith was on had disappeared. Completely covered in clouds. And not only that, thunder was rumbling from one peak to the next, right across the valley, with winds whipping along so hard I wondered if the van wouldn’t topple over.

Not exactly an offroading vehicle...

Group conference. Do we admit defeat and come back another day, or go for it?

We admitted defeat and kept driving.

one of the rare sights of the peak

The route got more and more difficult, and more and more often I had to get out and guide the utility van, but eventually we emerged at the village of Takhcha, yet another one of those curious hamlets of earthen roofs and shit fences. We were now entering Armenian territory (that is to say, the ethnic group was becoming more Armenian than Georgian, but still in Georgia). The language was changing now, from Georgian to a casual Russian, and more signs were in Armenian. Not that we had much experience of all this squeezing through the shit fences of Takhcha, but yeah.

From Takhcha was easy sailing. It would completely be doable (and a wonderful hike) to park your car in Takhcha and hike to the two megaliths. I estimate you’d need about 8 hours total for such a trek. I think the most enjoyable variation would be to park in Poka or the lakeside village at the crossroads between Shaori and Abuli and hike them each from there (unless you have an off road car). The terrain is this strange, high altitude grass steppe (though the altitude isn’t really that high, but it feels high). There are rocks and boulders spread throughout, making it absolutely no problem to even build your own megalith. Have fun!

Akhalkalaki and the Gold Café

From Takhcha to Akhalkalaki was a nice, fairly modern road that at times drove through some random, quite scenic medieval looking villages until finally coming out of the valleys to Akahkalaki, the sprawling “Armenian capital” of South Georgia, and indeed, the town itself looks drastically more like Gumri or Yerevan than it does anywhere in Georgia. There’s this kind of darker stone block used in Armenian construction that gives it that very characteristic look and feel. The town is built on an easy to navigate grid, and full of casinos and cafes. It had a kind of ghost town feeling though, since as we walked around there was literally no one there but a few stray dogs. One guy did emerge to stand around as I used the ATM, so either that was bad timing or just weird. The silence though was altogether foreign to the usual Georgian situation, which usually has men just standing around on street corners, chatting and eating sunflower seeds. None of that in the center city of Akhalkalaki. But in general, a handsome city.

We stopped at the highest rated café in town, the Gold Café. Sounds fancy. Basically a gigantic empty room with four tables. Because of the vast size, the walls looked barren despite having to broadswords hanging on one and two animal heads on the other. The staff was friendly enough. The food was nothing to brag about, nor was the price. It was all a bit meh-tastic. The khachapuri is gigantic though, so go easy when ordering that. They speak Georgian, Armenian, and Russian, but I think they had a copy of the menu in English, but you know, khachapuri is “khachapuri” in any language, so just order that.

The town of Akhalkalaki

There’s also the ruins of a 9th century fortress at the end of the main road, but we were running short on time and wanted to get on to a hotel near Vardzia, so we didn’t have time to make it. I would love to go and stop by though, as it’s pretty much an untouched archaeological-site-to-be.

Check out the next post as I continue on to Vardzia and later for Borjomi! Make sure to sign up for emails below and don't miss a blog.

#touristicsites #hiking