Travel, 50+, Georgia

Let's see now ... what do we know about Georgia, again? Georgia... Georgia... Wasn't that guy from there? The mustache guy? Yup. This is pretty much it. People I talked with knew Stalin. Despite Georgia boasting the best wine in the world, not one knew even that. Not that it's easy to find outside the country and perhaps a few former "Eastern bloc" states and maybe some specialist store here and there. I had to go as far as talking with a guy who has visited every country in the world to find someone with more knowledge. It was the only country where he had been robbed at gunpoint, and it was followed by an invitation to dinner. What gives Georgia?

I arrived with little expectations. Tired, largely because of trying to fight with our Armenian driver (remember?) to just drop us weary travelers off anywhere near downtown. He would not budge. What little we could communicate, it was clear that it was a matter of personal pride for this man to take us to the specific inn we had booked, and, the address of which we had stupidly enough shared at the start. The geezer was fuming as no one seemed to know where the place was. It was not one of the fancy downtown hotels, just a small local inn on some side street. We had to play tricks that the raging driver would not go live Carmageddon on Tbilisi. We nudged him the right way and eventually noted the place in such a manner he thought he found it all by himself. It must have been like classic movie sex for him as he went straight for that sighing-and-leaning-head-back-to-inhale-deep smoking session.

The complete and all bases covering advice from the local hotel staff was fairly simple. "Don't insult our country or our religion and you will be fine." It was implied here and elsewhere that otherwise let it hang loose, laissez faire and, as the Greek goddess of victory is often quoted; Just do it! So we went out and did.

We were just strolling and the first thing that happened was girls seeing us as a photo opportunity. Us two travelers, looking like dusty turds in cargo shorts and t-shirts, are probably all over some semi-obscure Georgian influencer's ig or something. Before we knew it, we gathered male interest as well. It was one of those very stereotypically criminal looking guys. Think of Quentin Tarantino, but with less jaw, a stubble and a few tough guy scars here and there, while the paranoid eyes scan the area. The guy sold us the idea that he had a friend on a dark alley, with a place to stay and we should mos def check it out... (Add narrator: They did not.)

We were approached by others as well. A whole lot of barkers, who had the girls just for us. Russian, Ukrainian, Romanian, African, you name it. A pen knife would have been more than useful in cutting through all of the flyers, leaflets and pamphlets. I was approached by a guy who insisted in knowing where I came from. I cannot be the only one who hates answering these questions. You say something, they try to appeal to your emotions and "our connection" by tragically mispronouncing a word in your language or mentioning random words that are commonly linked to your country. You know, like chocolate, Nazi gold and what have you. So, I often give an obscure location or a very generic place. In this case, I said "I'm from the north". Well, this guy started asking me, absolutely not questionably at all, "How are the prison conditions in the Nordic countries?" I did not correct him nor did I have an immediate answer, so the guy continued. "It doesn't even matter, if you succeed or get caught. Life gets better." We laughed. He belly laughed.

We were pretty much the only "western" guys there and they could sense it wherever we went. A whole lot of people wanted to practice their English and all of them deduced somehow that we were American. Not unlike most other nations where I've passed through. They were all left convinced Americans are pretty cool. From your European ambassador: You're welcome. Among others, I was approached by a random Muslim guy, who specifically insisted in identifying as a Muslim. He said "Thank you! You are doing the right thing." I have no idea what he was rambling on about, but I left him with a smile. It was surprisingly hard to find peace here, but we did.

We left the country fairly satisfied. Perhaps a little too satisfied as we returned in a few days. As we came back, it was a whole different arrival. We were picked up at the airport by "staff from the local inn". Two young guys, who were driving like they were practicing for the WRC. The inn... well, it was advertised as new and being located close to the airport in a peaceful natural setting, close to all comforts and amenities and downtown Tbilisi and all that.

Turns out that means you are driven to a place without any lights, which becomes very apparent in twilight. We come to witness that the place is not quite finished and it's just some rando family's house. On top of that, the "guest section" in the house was placed behind a maze. Seemed like they had built everything by themselves and the only door directly to the guest section "cannot be opened right now". We were taken in and there was some sad and confused looking old lady in there, with a small child. She said hello and then started to look at the two young men with the famous wtf-guys-face, while gesturing wildly.

We were pointed in the general direction of our rooms and over yonder, all of the sudden, everything was very silent. You could only hear some dogs barking in the distance. It was getting dark and we were just left to our own devices. The keys to our rooms were hanging on the locks of the doors and we just picked our rooms. We threw our backpacks in and decided to look around.

There was just the old lady's home side, one toilet and a shower room for everyone including the people living there and the guests. We were left without food, and since somehow everyone had just left, we had to figure things out ourselves. The WiFi was on and the password available, so we found out that there was a restaurant not too far on foot. We used the "cannot be opened door" and, guess what? It opened.

The door closed with a clack and we found ourselves staring into the darkness. There were some dim lights where the restaurant was supposed to be, but to go there ... pitch black. All the way. It was beginning to drizzle and shaking our heads, we decided to go back in. Guess what? The door that could not be opened... could not be opened. We had no choice but to try the other door. The official, original door of the house. It was locked. We banged at the door and waited. Banged at the door again and turned to look around. We realized the car was gone. At least one of the people had left. Now ... you might think a thousand thoughts in this situation. We probably would have, but all of the sudden the door opened. The old lady stood there and made hushing sounds. She looked despairing and sad, somehow. We nodded and gave her a smile. She did not reciprocate. We stepped in, went to our rooms, locked the doors and slept with one eye open.

The Judgment:
This country gave me mixed feelings. The places were giving either massively bad or good vibes. The people were either very warm or freezing. Some had good intentions and some quite obviously something completely different. They were far from being used to tourists, but they were all too comfortable with the Russians that were in the capital in great numbers. And in South Ossetia and Abkhazia. It appeared at the time that the young were hesitantly getting more modern and more "western". The older people were not comfortable with anything beyond simple neutral things and a few items of national pride such as food (largely very heavy, by the way). This visit was a few years ago and some of us know how the situation has evolved since then. I would recommend the place for a touch more adventurous people. Your street smarts have to be constantly on and your guard levels at least at the orange alert. The country as such can become a paradise, as they have all it takes. Awe inspiring nature, well preserved sights, modern additions, good food, "endless" potential and so on. It can equally easily become something far more sinister. We are going to see which way they turn within just a few years.

Would I go again? Yes.