Leaving Nakhchivan, the breeze of the Caucasus caresses our faces, and the curiosity starts to rise. Once we cross the border, Georgia instantly attracts us with its stone houses and colorful balconies. Changing landscapes along the road light the way and keep curiosity alive.
In Tbilisi, we are walking through cobbled streets where the steam from sulfur baths meets the fresh air along the Kura River. The city’s layered story is opening up in front of us, with each step we take up the slope towards Narikala. And as night starts to fall, bringing the lights on, each photo is turning into a memory.
History and faith are flowing together around us. Under stone arches, the echo of melodies carries the spirit of the city to our ears. When we climb to viewpoints, bridges and domes come together in the same scene.
This discovery continues at the table: the steam of khinkali, the golden crust of khachapuri, the amber tones of local wines-all these come together in a symphony of friendly conversation. Each word of the tamada-that is, the toastmaster-adds an extra layer of meaning to our journey.
On nature routes, refreshing mountain wind strokes our faces; on the winding roads, every turn reveals either a monastery appearing out of the mist or a waterfall catching a rainbow. When the sky clears, shades of stone and green are quietly settling in our memory.
While returning, small gifts we choose from the bazaars find their place in our suitcase. The sound of different languages, the warmth of the food, and the horizon-opening views now come together to leave us with a concentrated summary of the whole trip.
