A plane shoots red and white smoke across the sky behind Holy Trinity Orthodox Church, Tbilisi
Or: Who has ever plucked a rose without spikes – ვარდი უეკლოდ ვის მოუკრეფავს
Similar to the English phrase, “no pain, no gain,” Georgians use this idiom to describe a situation when you need to overcome a challenge to gain something good. And this could be a good adage for my experience of Georgia over my five-day trip.
A rare opportunity for skateboarders to skate in front of a major government building on Independence Day, Tbilisi
Anyone who has travelled will have experienced those mundane aspects that have to be endured such as arrival at an airport, waiting for luggage, customs, exchanging currency getting a sim and working out how to reach your accommodation. At customs in many countries these days it is common to be asked proof of your accommodation and proof of a flight (or transport) out of the country. This is not a problem for me as I like to plan ahead and I have these things booked and saved to ‘Books’ on my phone. Things were going smoothly so far; I had done my research and learnt that Georgia has Bolt, a ride sharing app like Uber, so, knowing my accommodation host was waiting in the apartment, I wasted no time booking one. Although I have experienced persistent taxi drivers at airports before, the Georgian ones were severe. I had already booked a Bolt but that was not enough to deter one driver who kept insisting I go with him. ‘Look, I’ve booked a Bolt, go away!’ I said. ‘Aaahh Bolt. They’re all mafia you know.’ he opined and blocked my path; perhaps his strategy was to wear down weary travellers until they gave in. At last I recognise my Bolt arriving (for those of you unfamiliar with the app, you get the number plate, car model and colour so can wave them down). But, to my horror, a man jumped into MY Bolt and away it went! ‘That’s my Bolt!’ I shrieked and then ‘and I’m paying for it!’ as it is connected to my credit card account. A quick check of the app was reassuring, and I was able to click on ‘I’m not in the car’ option. Obviously it’s not the first time this has happened! Ten minutes later I have procured another Bolt, the taxi driver didn’t wear me down, I jump in the car and proceed to debrief my woes to the Bolt driver, who understands no English and does not respond. I make it to the grungy location and step into a steel doorway into the courtyard with my host. I’m in Tbilisi, Georgia.
The entrance to the courtyard of my apartment at 13 Dmahisil Street, in the Armenian quarter
Holy Trinity Church, the pride of Tbilisi
Once settled, I had time to head across town and was keen to walk after the flight. Having only been in Azerbaijan in the morning, I could already see subtle differences, one being that no one was racing across the road in front of cars (well except for two scantily clad tourists who were narrowly missed by fast flowing traffic). In fact I walked some distance along this particular busy road until I realised it had come to an end. A local man had tried to communicate with me beforehand, but I had ignored him. He had followed me all the way along the road, and this time I followed him back and he walked me around the block to show me the underpass I had missed. Then he headed back on his way. I was blown away with this generosity of a stranger who had nothing to gain from helping me out. Realising I had time to visit a museum I chose the Georgian Museum of Fine Arts (not to be confused with the National Gallery, MOMA Tbilisi or the Academy of Arts). This museum focused on contemporary art, mainly by Romanian artists but what I really enjoyed is how each artist was given a whole (very large) room, like a mini exhibition, and this allowed for true appreciation of their oeuvre. I was smiling and thinking ‘yes, this is the way it should be’ and maybe just feeling a little excited when another visitor decided to have a chat with me. He was an American who worked around the world and often visited Georgia, had an art collection and visited galleries. We talked for a while, went on our ways and were able to share our love of art.
Georgia's Palace of Weddings, not open to the public except for private events
Being a budget traveller, I have often end up accommodated in quirky apartments either privately owned or sublet, and this has both advantages and disadvantages. It can mean negotiating an exact arrival time if your host wishes to meet you at the apartment but possibly no luggage drop off facility, no free breakfast and inconsistent facilities inside. On a positive note, it can mean staying in neighbourhoods rather than touristed locations and this was certainly the case during my recent stay in Tbilisi. It turns out my apartment was in the Avlabari district which was in the Armenian quarter of the city. Whilst I didn’t exactly get a warm welcome from the neighbours in the flats next door who sat out in the common entranceway to smoke, it was a fascinating area for watching the locals, many of whom ran tiny stores along the main street, selling, through their narrow store fronts, fruit, vegetables, meat, cheese and in one case a man sold big slabs of bread for 1.30 GEL (about 70c); that was it, just the bread. Another man often had a huge cut of some sort of meat out the front and what looked like beer taps in the back. Maybe you could ask for a cut of the meat and have a beer while you waited for him to crave it off the slab? Conveniently, this location was a quick walk to Avlabari metro station, a tour meeting spot and a bus stop for trips to Yerevan. And one of the city’s most visited tourist sites, the glistening, gold coated Holy Trinity Church was visible from my window.
Capone by Oleg Timchenko; 2012 at the Georgian Museum of Fine Arts
Only when I booked a tour to see Brutalist Architecture icons did I learn that Avlabari was also the location of Underground Printing House Museum, generally known as Stalin’s Underground Printing House Museum, located within the Georgian Communist Party Headquarters. This was first stop on my private tour. The museum was within the Georgian Communist headquarters and a longstanding member of the Party, Soso acts as caretaker to open the property for visitors. The museum showed the series of secret tunnels used to hide the printing press that for three years, was used to produce Bolshevik pamphlets, written in Georgian, Russian and Armenian. Lookouts, mostly older women would ring a bell from the porch to signal to those below to stop printing. This was where Stalin worked and slept, his bed still available for viewing. In 1906 it was discovered and destroyed. Thirty-one years later, Stalin had consolidated power in what would become the USSR and he had the printing press restored and the building was turned into a museum and theatre that screened Soviet Films. In 1991, after the fall of the Soviet Union, the museum was abandoned, but today it is operated by the Communist Party of Georgia, receiving no government funding. While we were there, the only others to visit were a group of Chinese tourists and I was curious to learn that they are the museum’s main audience!
Just kidding! Taking calls at Stalin's desk at the Underground Printing House Museum
I had researched whether I could visit some of the Brutalist locations on this tour independently but gave up and forked out for a private tour as group tours were sadly not available; I had also tried to visit the Palace of Rituals or even get close but found it impossible; after circumnavigating it and walking several paces past a bollard which I hoped was only to stop vehicles from entering, I was promptly met with a man in the distance making the cross sign with his arms.
Stalin's bedroom at the Underground Printing House Museum
Taking a private tour meant that my guide, David was able to drive me to locations, some of which would have been quite difficult to reach independently, and some locations were downright grungy. At the next venue, he warned me as we walked through overgrown grass to watch out for snakes but then added ‘That’s right, you’re Australian’ (I was getting a little tired of hearing so many people equating Australia with dangerous spiders and snakes to the point of scaring them off ever travelling there: Australian tourism, do something!) David then pointed down to the ground and said ‘That’s a bong. People only come up here to smoke.’ ‘And do private Brutalist Architecture tours’ I thought. We had arrived at a curious entrance to what was once the Museum of Archaeology, built in 1988. Unlike the welcoming entrances of museums today (well, in Australia anyway), this entrance appeared like an opening to a tunnel and was topped with a menacing stone/ marble carved frieze which towered over the visitor. The figure in the frieze is in foetal position, a reference to traditional Colchian burial rites. You’d have had to really want to visit it back in the day as it was nowhere near the centre of town and not many buses go that way either. It seemed a monstrous entrance to what would have housed relatively small examples of archaeology. But that was the Communist era when large architecture dominated.
The entrance to the Museum of Archaeology, built in 1988
Next to the museum is a monument to Saint Nina, one of Georgia’s patron saints, also in Brutalist style and there are three underground water reservoirs which were created to alleviate Tbilisi’s issues with drinking water, but they were subsequently decommissioned and drained, so the area is a monument to the past in several ways. The three-in-one site might not be on all tourists’ must-see list, but I found it a good insight into three creations of the Communist era: a water source, a museum and a religious icon.
The entrance to the Museum of Archaeology, built in 1988; imagine ascending all those stairs!
Two views of monument to Saint Nina, one of Georgia’s patron saints
The next venue was the colossal Chronicles of Georgia, which, unlike the Museum of Archaeology is popular with tourists and Instagrammers (guilty!). Sometimes nicknamed Tbilisi’s Stonehenge, The Chronicles of Georgia is a massive bronze, copper and stone sculpture displayed dramatically on a hill in the northern part of Tbilisi. It towers directly above the Tbilisi ‘Sea’, the city’s largest reservoir and main water source. Although it appears to reference classical architecture, it was created in 1981. Designed by notorious Russian artist Zurab Tsereteli who also designed a large sculpture of St George for the main square, it is not loved by all. Both works have been met with controversy but, as the artist has said “Such reactions are perfectly normal. Art is always either lauded or criticized, and modern man cannot properly appraise it. Take the Eiffel Tower, for example – its creator was scolded back and forth, yet now one cannot imagine Paris without it. Time will sort everything out.”[1]
The Chronicles of Georgia: that's me on the seat in the centre
Fortunately for Georgia’s Churches and monuments, Christianity was tolerated during the Communist era which accounts for the narratives in the sculptures. Depicted on the reliefs are Christian scenes such as the Last Supper and Palm Sunday but near the top are images of Queen Tamar, who reigned over Georgia from 1184 to 1213 and Ilia Chavchavadze, a famous writer and poet.
Chronicles of Georgia closeup: look at the detail on those figures!
Across Tbiilisi I had noticed many other statues honouring writers and poets and was pleased to see it wasn’t all about conquerors and politicians. Georgian pottery-making technology is also demonstrated at the top of the Chronicle of Georgia and there are references to wine making. I can attest that their light dry reds are indeed worthy of pride and was lucky enough to try some during a free wine tasting session along the main street which was blocked off for the Georgian National Day.
Difficult to photograph, the Former Ministry of Highways Building (now The Bank of Georgia Headquarters)
If you Google Brutalist architecture you’ll probably come up with the building in our next stop, the Former Ministry of Highways Building (now The Bank of Georgia Headquarters). This iconic eighteen story building features interlocking concrete arms and was built in 1976, placing it firmly in the Communist era. It’s part Russian Constructivism and part Brutalism but in the flesh it looks much cleaner and newer than the monochromatic images shown online. It has visual similarities with the Habitat 67 housing complex in Montreal, Canada. It was vacant from 2007 but fortunately it achieved a heritage listing and was able to be repurposed as The Bank of Georgia Headquarters. This unique design is based on a concept named Space City method with the idea being to give space below the building back to nature, creating an experience of psychological comfort and well being in inhabitant. The idea of nature flowing through a building was used by other architects such as Le Corbusier and Frank Lloyd Wright with Fallingwater.
For the grand finale we arrived at the Tbilisi Skybridge (Nutsubidze Skybridge). Unlike the other buildings so far, Nutsubidze is a residential complex. It comprises three housing blocks arranged over a hillside and linked together by a high-rise metal footbridge. It was constructed between 1974 and 1976 as part of a larger residential development known as the Nutsubidze Plato 1 Apartment Complex. And there were plans to develop it further into micro-city joined by bridges. As it was on a hill, that set it apart from typical Communist blocks and would have been a desirable place to live. It’s a pity the micro-city didn’t get built as it could have resembled the buildings in Science Fiction films such as Metropolis and Blade Runner (the first one) and could have become one of the most cutting-edge architectural creations in the world and a great tourist attraction! The exterior of the buildings was quite rough and unfinished and, according to David, this was intentional. Reproductions of the Skybridge make it appear foreboding and unsafe but it’s all quite safe and most of the interiors are modernised. Although the style is undoubtably Brutalist, in fact, many of the details are timber, which could be a reference to the carved balconies and shushabandi glass galleries found in traditional Georgian architecture. The balconies are in semicircular horseshoe shape, which could symbolise good luck and some of the holes are in the shape of crosses, again a reference to Christianity.
Tbilisi Skybridge (Nutsubidze Skybridge); note some of the horseshoe shaped windows have been bricked in to create more room space.
Then there are the famous bridges between the buildings, which were necessary to access a Kindergarten and other businesses. There are lifts that still work but in order to access the residential lift visitors have to insert a coin. Apparently, it is watched by an old widow who has moved into one of the operator’s rooms. If you don’t insert your coin you can’t go up! Sadly, we didn’t use this lift but we did get to walk across a couple of the bridges and take in great views of the city.
The view whilst walking across the Tbilisi Skybridge (Nutsubidze Skybridge)
Hanging your washing outside is the done thing in Georgia; Nutsubidze Skybridge
My turn: walking across the Tbilisi Skybridge (Nutsubidze Skybridge)
As I was only accommodated in Tbilisi whilst in Georgia, it was important for me to experience at least some of the famous Georgian Caucasus landscape, so I booked a tour to Kazbegi. When you look up images of Georgia, you often see one of Gergeti Trinity Church with a background of Kazbegi Mountain. And a bonus for me was that we would stop off at the Friendship Monument, a giant mosaic mural up on a hill along the Georgian Military Highway. One advantage of tours for solo travellers can be the connections you make with other travellers. On this tour ten of us were put into the ‘English’ language group although I was the only one who spoke English as a first language. In our group were American, Swiss, French, Croatian, Spanish and Egyptian travellers. We ate and drank together and enjoyed the landscapes over the twelve-hour journey. I was perhaps the most excited of the group to see the Russia–Georgia Friendship Monument, maybe because a) it was on the way home and everyone was tired, b) the others didn’t have a passion for Soviet mosaic murals and C) it was freezing cold and I was the only one who brought a puffer jacket! The monument has an interesting name considering, as I was reminded by our tour leader and other Georgians, ‘Georgia and Russia aren’t really friends.’ However, as it was built in 1983, the idea at the time was to celebrate the bicentennial of the Treaty of Georgievsk and the friendship between (soviet) Georgia and Soviet Russia. Inside the monument is a tile mural which curves around and shows history of Georgia on one side and Russia on the other. It overlooks Devil’s Valley and because of the height, the area is very cold.
Gergi Trinity Church, Kazbegi, Georgia
Both bus groups at Kazbegi
The Georgian Russian Friendship Monument
Our English speaking group at the Georgian Russian Friendship Monument
The Georgian Russian Friendship Monument
Red and white in Rustaveli Avenue
My five days in Tbilisi coincided with Georgia’s Independence Day which was celebrated for several days through numerous events and frequent air displays of military planes shooting red and white lines throughout the sky. Georgia must be very proud of their military presence and organised a public display of Military oaths the day before Independence Day and on the main day, new weapons and military equipment were displayed, much to the joy of children who got to handle guns and other weaponry. The main street of Rustaveli Avenue was blocked off to traffic and was full of activities for “for people of all ages and tastes”[2]. Educational and entertainment areas, as well as zones for children, were set up on the street to host visitors for the celebrations. Fortunately for me, my ‘taste’ extended to wine and I celebrated Georgia’s independence by sampling their excellent light dry wines.
Cheers!