Looking 4 Adventures

Where the Heck Was Georgia?

I woke up last night on a plane and looked out the window just in time to see the lights of Tbilisi flickering below me. This is the place where my heart still lives.
Eight years ago, I hadn’t even known where Georgia was…

I would soon learn that I was very lucky because within 3 years of living there, my Sakartvelo stole my heart. Tbilisi will likely always be my home. Georgian will always be a script that makes my heart jump with glee. But why is that? Let’s dig into it.

Georgia was the first country I was living in for longer than a few months. While my short stint in India changed my view of the world thoroughly, living somewhere longer just changes everything. I soaked up everything around me. We spent a lot of weekends curiously exploring every single corner of the country.

And honestly, by now I wish we had had more time because we clearly did not see everything. I think we missed out on not learning more Georgian and not going to certain places that are still on my list. There’s always something on that imaginary list that I still want to do when I return, be it hiking to Tobavarchkhili Lake or returning back to Lagodekhi to Duende Hotels.

Tastes That Stay With You

I want to eat more Georgian food at my favorite restaurants where the staff often still recognizes us. I want to have the taste of amber wine on my tongue and feel the richness of it. And I want to experience more of the hospitality Georgians are so famous for.

Georgia is the one place I would recommend anyone to go to at least once. Bas is always joking that it is a dangerous place because if you’ve been there once, you do not want to leave. And yes, I agree! Wholeheartedly!

When I hear a Georgian song, my heart sings the lyrics of it. There’s this story that people tell that when God was distributing the world among the people of the earth, Georgians were taking a break for having a supra (a feast with lots of toasting and wine and way too much good food) and they were late (as you are!) and God appreciated this so much that he gave them the country he had reserved for himself. While I am not religious at all, the natural beauty and diversity I found there is unparalleled.

No Smiles, Just Hospitality

Georgians are not necessarily friendly, though. If you live in Cambodia, everyone is smiling at you and is outwardly incredibly sweet and friendly. In Georgia, you will get a scowl and an “Ara!” (No!) at first, but the people will welcome you to their home, feed you, give you wine, and then you’re friends.

We spend so many evenings with our language teacher Nana, slowly learning the intricacies of the Georgian language while we shared homemade food. I miss these evenings and the company, the laughs and the mispronounced words, and the skewed writing.

And while Georgia has a unique alphabet and a unique language, culture, and arts, it soon became familiar. The streets we walked on every day, every hole in the sidewalks, every restaurant, every corner, they became familiar sights. We found our routines, the morning coffee spots, the weekend brunch at Rooms Hotel, the weekend getaways.

When we returned after two years for a brief visit, we walked the same sights and visited the same places and experienced the same culture. It felt like coming home. I guess, home really is where your heart is, because when I look at where I want to be when I’m old and retired, I’m still looking at Tbilisi. I’m dreaming of opening a book shop there with arts exhibitions and music and poetry recitals and wine tasting.

Looking Down at Home From the Sky

When I woke up last night on the plane and found myself flying over Tbilisi, I realized that this is the place where my heart has been lost. Where you can still find it roaming the narrow streets, exploring Dry Bridge market on a sunny Sunday morning in autumn, climbing up to Mtatsminda park in winter, when the sun hits just right.. I waved down and the Mother of Georgia waved back asking me to finally come back home.

For me, as someone who’s neurodivergent, Georgia wasn’t just a country I lived in. It was a place that let me build routine, feel safe through repetition, and fall in love with the texture of life. Maybe that’s why it still feels like home.