The Great Wall of Sighnaghi

My wife skipped town to Switzerland, so I decided to skip town myself. I thought it’d be a good chance to work on my book, cleaning up and changing things that I didn’t feel quite right about. So I needed somewhere quiet and scenic for my little “writer’s retreat”, and preferably close because I hate riding marshrutkas.

Sighnaghi was perfect for me. I couldn’t imagine what could lead to a more productive time than sipping on coffee with an incredible view of the Alazani Valley and the wall of mountains that lies beyond. So I went to Samgori metro station, hopped on the next marshrutka, and made the one-hour journey.

My luck had it that I was the last person on the marshrutka, which meant I had the unenviable “bitch seat”. That meant I was in the front, squeezed between a passenger—an old, man-spreading gent—and the driver, with my long legs somehow trying to stay out of the way of the stick shift, and just hoping the driver grabbed the right stick.

But I made it fine and my trip went most excellent.

A bit of history

Sighnaghi gets a bad rap as a “tourist town”, and expats hate it because it “isn’t authentic”. I say they must not have been to any number of beautiful little towns in Europe where people go to relax. “Authentic” isn’t always on the list, but beautiful is, and you normally don’t get to mix the two unless your balls-rich, especially in Eastern Europe where authentic is more-often-than-not defined by brutal concrete blocks and faux sportsmen standing around eating sunflower seeds bumming cigarettes off passersby. No offense to Eastern European lifestyles (heck, my hood is more than authentic and I love it) but sometimes you just want to have a bit of fresh air and some beautiful things around you.

The town has an old history. Situated at the end of the Gombori Range with a commanding view of the valley, it’s always been a place of strategic importance: the Alazani Valley has served as the “Gateway to Georgia” for invader after invader, from Parthians to Arabs, Mongolians to Persians to Qajars (perhaps even in that order). The fact then that this is one of the most fortified ancient towns in Georgia shouldn’t be of any surprise. The current wall system though isn’t that old, as King Erekle II had much of the fort system redesigned, repaired, and rebuilt in the 1700s. The efficacy of the fortifications have always been under question though, as it has never really seemed to stop those pesky invading armies…

a commanding view indeed!

All that said, it is therefore an authentic tourist town. There are old things there that they didn’t just invent. The bad rap comes from when Saakashvili was president and he dumped a load of dough onto the town, and they went in and redid all the facades and cobbled the streets. That would have been fine had the locals reciprocated and refurnished their houses, but for the most part they had no money, so speculators just bought in and sat on the properties, leaving those weirdly nice facades covering up ruined interiors, creating this kind of ghost town medieval wild-west movie set feeling going on.

still true off the beaten path

That’s been changing though (slowly, ever-so-slowly). With more guest houses and hotels opening up, restaurants and cafes everywhere, it’s starting to feel like an actual resort town (true, not “authentic”, but neither is Cesky Krumlov, Hallstatt, Rothenberg, Paris, and so on). It’s got a beautiful “old town” vibe, almost as old as any of those (cobblestones are actually a fairly modern thing, most European cities had streets of mostly mud and crap, with stepping stones), and the best view south of the Greater Caucasus Range. The locals have begun to realize how perfectly situated they are, and they’re starting to understand tourism a bit, so for people on their own, it also makes a great spot as you can jump on a tour to almost anywhere in the region, or create your own for far cheaper than anything out of Tbilisi—it’s an easy region to get your fill of wineries, monasteries, and castles, depending on which is your poison. It’s also central to the primary wine region of the land, so there’s that too.

a side alley down a residential street

To bring real change and "authenticiy", something truly revolutionary needs to be done. I think the Tbilisi Music Conservatory, and/or a premiere art school, needs to open a campus in the old town of Sighnaghi, sending students for 6 months to a year to study there (also a tourism college could do the same). At minimum one term if they can't handle being outside of Tbilisi that long. Part of the curriculum would be to organize an art festival, art exhibition, music festival, or concert in a concert hall. If this were to be done, it would elevate Sighnaghi to be not just a destination for tourists, but also for locals, and it would be an all around exotic, interesting, beautiful, and authentic place, and all those sad empty facades would spring to life.

Sighnaghi National Museum

At the center of town, there’s the history museum, which really shouldn’t be missed. On the first floor is a large display of artifacts with a lot historical background of Sighnaghi and Kakheti. The upstairs features an exhibition by a Georgian artist and also a permanent installation of the famous Pirsomani, who was from a small town nearby (Mirzaani, check out the house museum in the village, or read more about the painter here, of course, just like any destination in Georgia, it’s nearly impossible for tourists to get to outside of taking a tour or taxi).

wondering about the weird statutes in Tbilisi? they're often inspired by the ancient arts

After the art exhibition, the arrows point you into the museum café, which doesn’t seem to operate (it should, with both a beautiful interior and a stunning view and terrace, it’s bizarre that nothing is happening there). But one of the museum operators was a friendly and talkative guy, impressed that I wasn’t a Russian tourist and I could speak some Georgian. In fact, I kind of felt like a celebrity superstar around town with these two attributes, as I’ve never had such a bizarrely positive time in my solo travels in the country (not that I lack in positive times here). He collects American quarters—the ones with the states on the back—so if you’re a visiting American, pop in to help his collection.

The town walls

As I’ve mentioned, the fortifications aren’t exactly “medieval” as they were built in the 18th century, but they’re medieval enough for me. Also, what’s not cooler than strolling along what could easily be termed the Great Wall of Georgia, walking the battlements from tower to tower? The walls actually seem maintained and relatively safe as well, completely unlike Narikala Castle in the center of Tbilisi, which seems about to crumble down with the next load of tourists climbing around, sending a rain of stones and Russians upon the Zoroastrian fire temple down below.

walking along the walls

even the towers are accessible

Bodbe Monastery

For fans of the famous Hamlet line, “Get thee to a nunnery!” Bodbe is the perfect site. Originally a monastery built in the 4th century (current building from the 9th), it’s now a functioning nunnery, where the Ninos and Tamars hide away from their village for about nine months before coming out a refreshed and pure young woman again. Nun jokes aside, it is a beautiful religious area, and is said to be the place where St. Nino retired after the conversion of the Georgians to Christianity in the early 4th century. King Mirian III of Kakheti built a small monastery there in her honor, and it became the preferred place for the coronation of most of Kakheti’s future kings.

the 9th century church covered with 18th century murals

A spring of miraculous healing waters below the monastery are said to have been blessed by the saint, and are found down below the new main cathedral, accessible by the newly built stairway. To get back up, they’ve built a meditative pathway that meanders up a meadow underneath the cathedral.

When the Russians came in, Georgia’s natural “Orthodox brothers” abolished the monastery just as they abolished the Georgian Orthodox Church, and they downgraded the site to a simple parish. Despite their efforts, in the 1860s, the Archmandrite Macarius Batatashvili did his best to repair the facility and make a school of Georgian chant. It’s perhaps his luck that the Russians didn’t also whitewash over the beautiful painted 18th century murals—a common practice of the Russians of that period—which are still visible today. To his credit though, Tsar Alexander III did command the rebuilding of the monastery, but this time designated it as a nunnery (which makes a bit more sense, given its dedication to a female saint).

the new 21st century cathedral

It was again shut down in 1924, this time by the Soviets, and again reopened in 1991. For any visitor to Sighnaghi interested in religion, history, or architecture, it’s a must-see site. Especially as they finish the new cathedral, itself a beautiful monument in this age of glass, mushrooms, and maxipads that flourish in Tbilisi.

A taxi should take about 5 laris to get there. Otherwise you can go like me and just walk. It’s about 45-minutes on foot, with the first half a pretty steep incline, but then it levels off through a forest. The traffic is light, as the road leaves the highway fairly early and then is on a dedicated road to the site. As I mention below, there’s a nice patio place to get coffee, beer, wine, or even shisha along the way.

The Guesthouse Experience

I stayed at Zandarashvili Family Hotel (call them at +995 555 383 837, they speak English and Russian) this last trip. My second trip to the town, when I showed it off to my parents, we had stayed there, and I’m planning to guide another tour and use this house as my base. It’s off in a slightly more residential street of town, so off the map of the roving Russian tour groups, but still close enough to take it all in. The backside is off a cliff, with a commanding view of some of the medieval walls and towers, as well as the main mountain range itself.

amazing views from the balconies

I love guesthouses. Mainly because I love hostels. Guesthouses like Zandarashvili are like hostels for grownups. It’s cheap and you get to mingle with other guests, but you still get your privacy. The family there is great and welcoming, and you get much of the famous “Georgian hospitality” that Tbilisi tends to lack. In fact, many of the family members used to live in Tbilisi, but after having their go at boring desk jobs, they came back and decided to invest their time and energy into the guesthouse, tours, and wines, and they all do an excellent job (they make some great qvevri wines too, bottled for sale as well, at 10 lari a bottle for excellent wine it’s not a hard decision where to stock up your suitcase, be sure to ask Giorgi for a tasting).

Zandarashvili's street/authentic Sighnaghi

Restaurants and cafes

As I was there to work, that’s what I did. I toured all the outside garden areas of restaurants and set up my work area—manuscript stack, laptop, and boom. There’s a plethora of restaurants there to eat and drink wine, though there does seem to be an extraordinary and inexplicable lack of cafes—as most of the interiors seem a bit ornate and overdone, rather than “homely”, it feels awkward to just sit somewhere and have a coffee and croissant. Which definitely makes it more of a summer destination to me. There used to be a lovely little coffeeshop, Kedeli, which also served as a charity for the mentally handicapped, but that’s since shut down.

the view from Kanudosi

This last visit I didn’t really eat at any restaurants. The guesthouse where I was staying has excellent cooks, and the sons either join the guests or have their friends over to eat, creating quite a festive and fun atmosphere every night. For anyone staying solo, staying in for dinner is probably the best way to go (not to mention the bottomless and most excellent wine, which will also ensure you a hangover in the morning).

Espresso-based coffee in a comfortable outdoor environment can be a bit of a challenge to get—much of the town is running off Turkish coffee, which is a fine alternative and definitely more to the local taste. I was pleasantly surprised then while walking back from Bodbe to find Club Kanudosi, which not only has americanos but also has an amazingly awesome view of the village and mountains (obviously I spent over half the day working on my manuscript here). So for coffee addicts, make the 5-minute walk uphill and out of town for this spot.

also the view from Kanudosi

Getting there

Though the locals have started to pick up on tourism opportunities, the Gods of Georgian Transportation have been eerily quiet (or dead… they seem to be dead, possibly having been mistaken for a dragon). Though it wouldn’t take too much relative effort to renovate the Kakheti rail-line to Tsnori and have shuttle services up the hill, it clearly takes more effort than any Georgian in the government or shadow government is willing to do, never mind it would be a clear boon to tourism, and of a huge benefit to the locals (imagine living in a Kakheti village, surrounded by vineyards and fresh air, and taking the rail to commute to work in Tbilisi… pipe dreams though!).

a little touristy? sure. but also a little beautiful

Nobody has even thought of a bus line there, with most Georgians just thinking tourists are fine with paying 100 lari for a taxi or jumping on a tour bus full of Russians or Poles…

All that said, you can take a lovely marshrutka from the Samgori metro station. By “lovely” I mean overcrowded, smelly, and possibly containing chickens. There is also clearly something to all the icons hanging in front above the dashboard, as they miraculously do manage to take people safely to their destinations. Most of the time. But anyway, you were just whining that cobblestones aren’t “authentic”, so here’s your dose of authenticism!

By the way, people might tell you of a “schedule” for these marshrutkas. Ignore them. They leave when they’re full (squeezed in and unable to breath). I did however, discover one immensely nice marshrutka running the route. He’s said to leave Samgori around 9 in the morning, and he takes the 1 o’clock route leaving Sighnaghi back to Tbilisi (I luckily caught the return route). It’s spacious, roomy, smells okay, plays the standard Russian 80s marshrutka music, and is in general a positive experience. I actually wouldn’t have such a problem with marshrutkas if this were the standard. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S HOLY, TAKE THAT MARSHRUTKA!

#wine #holidays #fairytalevillages #castles #Hallstatt #amalfi #coffee #churches #touristicsites

Into the Echo Chamber

After a tragedy that hits the feels because it’s close to home, massive amounts of people take to Facebook and spread stories about it. Take the New Zealand instance. Westerners relate to New Zealand because it’s Western. We think it’s generally a safe place, so when a shooter walks in and kills everyone inside a place of worship, us Westerners relate. That’s okay. Same goes with tragedies that happen in France (see the passion behind the Notre Dame cathedral fire), England, the United States, and so on. It wasn’t necessarily because the NZ victims were Muslim, as even Christian and/or white victims get a similar amount of treatment (and to an extent, Western people’s buildings get an even more phenomenal treatment) as long as they’re Western.

Notre Dame. Still there.

But then there always follows a wave of guilt shaming. Saying, “You people paid attention to this conflict, but not to these other conflicts! How dare you!” Then they’ll find tragedies about their own in-group, and rage on Facebook trying to shame people into feeling guilty about this or that. After NZ, posts came up about Nigerian Christians who were killed, or about the ongoing murders of Christians in Syria—curiously those same people had nothing to say later in their posts when 200 Christians were murdered in Sri Lanka (instead of shaming people, imagine if you just shared things). After a jihadist went nuts and stabbed people on a bridge in London, people found some instance about brown people in whereverlandistan, saying, “Ya’ll only care about white people!” And so it goes.

This is, I think, a big symptom of only getting your news on Facebook. Let’s say you deeply care about Nigerian Christians getting murdered. When the NZ attack happened, it certainly felt like the world was ignoring what you cared about, because they’re Muslims! And then you see that someone wrote an article just about that, so that must be what’s happening! But what’s really going on is that’s what the people on your feed care about. They are not The News, they are an echo chamber. This is why it’s important to actually take the time to visit news sites from time to time and not depend upon Facebook as your source of news.

Echoooo! choooo! oo! o!

Facebook shares content from your friends. So you are only seeing content that has been curated by a group of people that you yourself have curated. Does media seem too liberal? Check your friends list. Does it seem to conservative? Check your friends list. There is no Facebook editorial board—which can be good or bad, because true editorial boards can follow agendas (as apparently even the FB algorithm is wont to do). But then also you get caught in an echo chamber, a spiral of news from people with similar interests as yourself. These people share blogs, news articles, and so on that reinforce their (and your) world view, further pushing you into your own slot and so you no longer exist in an objective world, but everything becomes more and more subjective, further slanting your ability to process information.

Fake news?!

You might be surprised to hear this. There has always been fake news. Media has always had an agenda. The first newspapers were run by political parties. They popped up all over the place along with/leading to the parliamentarian form of democracy. Most parties in the European parliaments had a newspaper when they first formed, and many political groups had newspapers and newsletters in wide circulation. Americans might be familiar with Thomas Paine, a prominent newspaper writer, and even the Federalist Papers were a kind of newspaper that was being passed around. All these were produced with political intention, which is to say they represented their side, and not fairly so.

Social-Democrat newspaper in Munich during the Weimar Republic

Media has always sought to create their own narrative, not always in line with history—common during the Weimar Republic were newspaper reports about how the Jews betrayed Germany in World War II, or how there weren’t any Jews on the front lines (they were actually overrepresented in the Kaiser’s armies). Trotsky got his start writing newspapers for the Communists in Tsarist Russia, Lenin wrote tracts, Goebbels was a newspaper editor. I’m not mentioning all these guys to say that journalists are by and large bad people, but rather that they all write with an intention or agenda, even when they don’t want to or are aware of it. And on top of that, there are editors above the writers who are pushing those agendas, and are only letting through specific articles with specific messages that reinforce that journal’s (and therefore party’s) narrative.

It’s not really that different in the modern media. Each news company is owned by one person or another who guides his editorial board in one direction or another for one reason or another. In most post-industrial free market economies, the reason tends to be fairly simple: money. And as politics means money, the media most certainly plays a political game as well.

News is money

It’s all about the Benjamins

Take, for instance, John Stankey, the CEO of WarnerMedia. WarnerMedia owns Warner Brothers, HBO, CNN, and Turner Broadcasting. Given that he manages a company with such a portfolio, you might assume he was a pretty die-hard Democrat. And you’d be wrong. Stankey is a lifelong Republican and regularly donates to the RNC and donated to the Trump campaign. What’s up with that?

I imagine Stankey is a pretty good businessman. He figures that CNN resonates with a large liberal audience. So he feeds stories to that audience in order to make money. And that’s the bottom line (literally). Media organizations, just like every other corporation, exist solely to cater not to your best interest, but to what will get money. For the past one hundred years or so we’ve become confused—and even enamored with such confusion—on the difference between money-making and self-interest and indeed, another person’s self-interest.

So what to do about it?

The best way to read media is to understand that it is written with a purpose. It doesn’t matter if you’re watching CNN, Fox, a Ben Shapiro YouTube video—they’re all the same and they all have corporate backers (you really think YouTube guys are some sort of underground rebels preaching the way to truth and freedom?). There’s a reason why at the beginning of every Alex Jones or Joe Rogan video, they start with a long list of their sponsors. Then they continue with a message that they know will retain and/or get new viewers. More viewers means more money. That’s it. And if YouTube thinks the blowback from hosting their services will generate less revenue, they will ban them. That’s it. It’s Capitalism, baby. Capitalism is and has never been about securing freedoms, it’s always been about the movement of money.

"Let me first explain all the people paying me to tell you this BS. And you should most definitely buy their crap."

So understand that. CNN might be pushing one agenda because their cousin company works in that field. Maybe they support a set of Democrats because those Democrats and them have a shared interest (in say UPS, who Stankey serves on the board of). And I’m using CNN here as an example, but we can also go with Fox, or Breitbart, or any other company that has carved its moneymaking fiefdom.

So number one: filter what goes in your brain.

Number two: filter what goes on your screen. The best thing to do is to drop Facebook as a device to read about news. Then pick five news sources. Two of which you know to be conservative, two of which are liberal. Then pick another outlier, maybe a foreign media group or one that doesn’t show overly much bias (but keep in mind, they all do, especially the free ones, because they’re not actually free). Ones that are quite open about their slant can be even better. HuffPo and Jacobin for instance, are clearly far left journals. You can read it and understand that. Breitbart or the Blaze are clearly far right. There’s no hiding there.

Read. Digest. Process. Synthesize.

Circles and arrows, it must be true!

The truth usually lies somewhere in the middle.

And the best thing about reading from sources you disagree with, is that you can learn that not everything written is true. Then apply that ability to sources you agree with.

And then recite that Reinhold Niebuhr prayer that recovering alcoholics like so much. Is it within your control? No. Then take a breath. Release. Have a glass of wine. Enjoy the view. Say hi to your neighbor. Do a good deed today. Start with what you can manage. The whole world doesn’t live online. Rather, the whole world lives around you. Today. Right now.

#rantsandraves

Sololaki: Tbilisi's First Suburb

Sololaki is one of the more interesting districts in Tbilisi, and perhaps my favorite one (probably because of the sheer number of bars that host interesting and original live music here). The area is bordered by Freedom Square, Leonidze, and Asatiani, on the sides, and on the bottom by Dadiani Street. The top slowly dissolves away into nothing as you go up hill and eventually you find yourself in fields, a cemetary, and a bizarre children's theme park (Mtatsminda). Fun note about that cemetary and field: once there was a metal festival there until a priest shut it down for being too close to the Orthodox burial ground.

11 Kikodze, building from 1914 by the Brother's Milov

Sololaki was the first district to grow past the original city walls, which would have been at Dadiani Street. Freedom Square itself is a relatively new invention, as before this was a river/canal with a bridge over it, and the river came from up Leonidze Street and then it followed Pushkin around the city walls to the river—you know, kind of like a moat… Past that bridge there was a small square called Firewood Square, where many of the residents would come up outside of the city gates and buy their firewood.

One of my favorite apartment buildings in Sololaki

The area was known in the old days for its beautiful greenery and gardens, and to water the gardens they needed to dig some canals, earning its name in Arabic, Sululakh, or “canal district”. The canals have long been buried over with the main one finally filled in in the 19th century when the Russians rebuilt much of the city after the Qajar destruction. After the Qajars destroyed everything, Sololaki became the preferred neighborhood for the rich folks of the city, and it was here that they tried to build the “Caucasian Paris”, complete with apartment blocks topped by mansard roofs and full of art nouveau flourishes (during this time, Aghmashenebeli Street in Chugureti underwent a similar renaissance, btw I've got self-guided audio walking tours of both streets here).

Example Sololaki's typical art nouveau flair

Freedom Square

Where the St. George pillar is on Freedom Square, there was the opera house where Alexander Dumas used to hang out a lot, and where the city hall is now was once the firehouse. It’s an ironic thing too as the opera house met its end by a vicious fire, and too bad there wasn’t a fire crew around, oh wait… All that was left of the opera house were two big lion statues, which are now found in front of the city hall. The city hall was upgraded from its status as fire house and they added the clock tower at that time.

Tbilisi's Freedom Square with the city grain silo on the hill in the background

After being known as Firewood Square and when it actually become a city square during the Russian rule, it was called Erevan Square, after the well-earned nickname of Ivan Paskevich, the general who had pommeled the Persians for much of modern-day Armenia and resided in Tbilisi. Later it became known as Freedom Square under the First Republic, then Beria Square, then Lenin Square where they placed a big statue of the Eternal Comrade, and finally Freedom Square, where they took down the statue and put up a column with Zurab Tsereteli's St. George Statue on a pillar, probably his only work that was gladly accepted by the giftee.

Freedom Square itself was later the site of a pretty historic heist. It was in this busy square that the bank heist that Stalin had masterminded took place. Led by his right hand man, Kamo, Stalin’s men lobbed some grenades at and commandeered a money-laden stage couch that was transferring newly printed and arrived money from the post office to the State Bank, resulting in 40 casualties and leaving 50 people injured. The Bolsheviks would later erect a statue to Kamo and post it in the adjacent Pushkin Square, but Stalin was a jealous mofo and had it removed as he tried to keep historians focused on only himself as the hero of the Revolution. "Masterminded" is also a generous word when the heist basically just involved lobbing bricks of dynamite and spraying down a crowd of people with automatic weapons. I suppose the real finesse involved smuggling the money out of Georgia and into Europe, where it was used to finance the machinations of the Bolsheviks once they were able to launder it (no easy task, considering all the major banks knew the serials of the banknotes... mastermind indeed!).

You can learn more about Freedom Square (and Rustaveli) on my audiotour on VoiceMap. Check it out here.

Dadiani Street

We’ll go down Dadiani Street. It’s fairly innocuous nowadays, but it used to be the center of expat life back in the 2000s and early 2010s. There was a tiny basement bar there called Salve, named after all the “salve” (“welcome” in Latin) signs that are known to adorn the district. The bar was known for its friendly status among alternatives and was devoid of the “kai bitchi” type that had once haunted the city’s streets, looking for easy lays and meaty shawarmas and who wouldn’t think twice about stabbing you over a girl. And so Salve was, in those days, pretty much the only place a Bohemian-type could go and hang out, and then people would move nearby and have house parties and the nights were never ending. The city was almost dead in those days: there was a general malaise and depression just after the war, and life seemed to have ground to a halt.

Not on Dadiani, but somewhere in Sololaki

Now both the malaise and the bar are gone, but the famous restaurant that people went to before getting drunk at Salve, Racha, is under renovations, so that will be nice when it opens up again. At the end of that street is a very beautiful Georgian style house on the corner, and then there’s the big German Schule, which many tourist guides like to call the “Caucasian Harry Potter House” for no clear reason except for its Gothic architecture.

Tabidze Street

Next up is Tabidze Street. Nearly 10 years ago the city planners had an excellent idea. They would close Tabidze to car traffic and make it pedestrian only, turning it into a cobblestone road envisioning higher-end bars, cafes, and clubs lining the street. It was a brilliant idea and it worked, making a most beautiful avenue of entertainment right off of Freedom Square. But then Georgians’ undying love for the automobile got the best of them and they inexplicably reopened the street to traffic, turning it from a once quiet, lazy afternoon walk to an aerobic feat of dodging cars. It’s basically an oblong parking lot now, gutting much of the business of the more popular bars like the once venerable live music venue Divan. There are a few hangers-on here, but for the most part the city had once put this street on a development pedestal and hacked it down with their great iron, car-shaped bludgeon.

The superior carless end of Tabidze, opposite from Freedom Square

Machabeli Street

This street is getting a relative amount of fame of late, as it seems bar after bar are opening their doors to the broken asphalt and concrete lined lane. I guess it’s filling in the space that Tabidze once held, but a lot of these bars cater to a more varied clientele and not just the city’s uber-rich. The metal bar, Creator, can be found here, as well as a few more relaxed hangouts. Before Creator and everything else though was a dive called Arsad, which means "nowhere" in Georgian, and it was hell trying to explain where exactly I was going or where someone should meet me if they hadn't known of the bar before.

"Where are you going tonight?" "Nowhere." "Well, let's go out."

"I am, I'm going to Nowhere."

"Dude, if you don't want to hang out, just tell me."

The premium attraction on Machabeli Street though is the Writer’s Union building, a grand example of “modernist” architecture, modern for the early 20th century, that is. Tbilisi modernism was a direct heir to art nouveau, so the former union halls have a lot of flowery flair. The Writer’s Union was originally built as the house of David Sarajishvili, a business mogul and head of the famous cognac (gruzinac, or brandy from Georgia, not from France) company that still reigns supreme on the shelves of local alco-stores today. When he passed, the building had already gained local fame as a monument of sorts, and when his wife decided to sell it in 1918, it caused an uproar. She must have smelled something on the wind though, as a few years later the Bolsheviks seized it and nationalized it, turning it into what it’s known as today: the Writer’s Union.

The Writer's Union house, on the corner of Machabeli and Asatiani

A few notable Soviet writers lived there for a time, namely Maxim Gorky, while Vladimir Mayakovsky was known to stay there as well, perhaps while on visits to his hometown of Baghdati in the Georgian countryside. From the spacious courtyard (which now houses a fancy pants restaurant) you can see the sky, and perhaps make out a cloud worthy of the restaurant.

Leonidze Street

There are a couple of famous landmarks on Leonidze Street as well. Coming up from Freedom Square on the right, you’ll see a big bank building. The Tbilisi Mutual Credit Society was built in 1913 and the building now serves as the ground for the National Bank of Georgia. Not an overly interesting bank itself, except in the knowledge that it was the first banking building in Tbilisi. It was later nationalized and made into the Central Bank of Georgia, a purpose it still serves today.

Detail of the National Bank and its money titans holding up Georgia's economy

#Tbilisi #history