Sunday 17 August 2014

Tbilisi: Part 7 of From the Caspian to the Black Sea

Mother Georgia

Georgia
Tbilisi

Looking from our bedroom window in the morning it was difficult to believe we were in a city. Behind us largely open ground rose to the heights of Narikala Fortress and alongside it the giant figure of Mother Georgia, described by the Lonely Planet as being 'as attractive as a 20m aluminium woman can be.'

Mother Georgia looks over Tbilisi

Dinara arrived to conduct our walking tour of Tbilisi. Starting from our hotel, we passed the old synagogue (closed to visitors) and crossed Meidan Square. Whilst western Georgia battled against Ottoman control and the east fought Persian domination (long before both were annexed by Russia) Tbilisi was the capital of an Arab caliphate. Meidan comes from the Arabic 'midan' meaning square, so we were crossing Square Square - and you have to take care crossing tautologies.

Tbilisi Synagogue

The old town is on the southern side of Tbilisi's Mtkvari River. English speakers think Tbilisi starts with an unhelpful clump of consonants, so Mtkvari is a word that can only be looked at in jaw-clamped amazement. The Georgian language - a member of the Kartvelian language group, whose only other members are also spoken only in Georgia - loves to aggregate apparently unpronounceable consonants, seven or even eight are possible and four, as in Mtkvari is common.

Metekhi Church and Founding of the City

Central Tbilisi is situated in a ravine. On the south side the cliffs are several hundred metres back, but on the north they rise straight from the river for a considerable stretch. We crossed the bridge from tautology square and climbed the bluff to Metekhi Church, one of the more prominent of Tbilisi’s ample supply of churches. Many Georgians, mainly older woman, feel the need to cross themselves, not once but repeatedly, every time they see a church. In Tbilisi old ladies can develop right arms like tennis players.

Metekhi Church, Tbilisi

The 5th century King Vakhtang Gorgasali built his palace and a church on this outcrop. Legend says the king was out hunting when his falcon grabbed a pheasant and he watched the two birds tumble from the sky. According to one story he found them both dead in a hot spring, but the statue commemorating the event - which is across the river beside the still extant hot spring - shows a live falcon standing atop a boiled pheasant. Apparently this 'ready meal' aspect persuaded the king to build his capital here.

Hawk and boiled pheasant, Tbilisi

David the Builder, Georgia’s greatest king who united the country in the eleventh century built his own palace and church over Vakhtang's. The current church was started by King Demetre Tavdadebuli (Demetre the Self-Sacrificing) in the thirteenth century. Allegedly it was a copy of David the Builder’s church, but it has been partially destroyed and rebuilt many times, so if it ever was, it is not now.

Mass was being celebrated and we joined the congregation listening to a venerable priest with a rich voice reading from the New Testament. His sonorous tones were answered by a choir of unbelievable musicality. What happens, I wonder, to a young man who feels a vocation to the orthodox priesthood but lacks a resonant bass voice? As always in orthodox churches there were no pews, the standing congregation came and went, and we left as communion started.

Outside we photographed the 1960s equestrian statue of Vakhtang Gorgasali ….

King Vakhtang Gorgasali, outside Mekheti Church, Tbilisi

Tamada

…. and re-crossed the bridge to the old town, pausing near the Konka Station where we had eaten last night. Nearby is a bronze statue of a man (or boy?) relaxing in a chair, drinking-horn in hand. Every Georgian supra (feast) needs a tamada, a toastmaster who proposes the toasts for others to elaborate upon and so keep the wine flowing. This little fellow, known as Tamada, is Tbilsi’s permanent honorary toastmaster. He is a copy of a gold trinket, the original hardly 2cm tall, which wewould seelater in the national museum. We noticed last night that visitors flock to be photographed with Tamada, those small enough sitting on its lap, others posing beside him. There was no reason why we should be left out.

With Tamada, Tbilisi

A Café, a Caravanserai and the Bridge of Peace

We passed Sioni Cathedral again and continued down a narrow street lined with cafés….

Café, Tbilisi

…. and a couple of caravansaries. Tbilisi was a major hub onthe Silk Road between Baku and Istanbul and the caravansaries were more urban and western than the one we stayed in in Sheki. Sadly, modern Tbilisi does not quite seem to know what to do with them.

Caravansary, Tbilisi

Beyond is the ultra-modern Bridge of Peace footbridge, opened in 2010. The cable car running from the north side of the river to the cliffs on the city’s southern edge does not run on Sunday mornings so there was no point crossing the bridge, but we did anyway.

Bridge of Peace, Tbilisi

Across the bridge, in front of the Presidential Palace, is the recently completed Rike Park Theatre and Exhibition Centre. This strange tube-like structure is one of the controversial ‘New Georgia’ buildings designed to contrast with the old city. Striking and innovative it will, in time, become loved or hated (or possibly both).

Rike Park Theatre, Tbilisi

Georgian Orthodoxy on a Sunday Morning

Continuing along the south bank we passed the palace of the Catholicos-Patriarch of all Georgia. Melkizidek I became the first Catholicos-Patriarch in 1001 and the line continued unbroken until 1811 when Russian annexation led to the absorption of the Georgian Orthodox Church into the Russian Orthodox Church. Independence was regained in 1917 and, as the Soviet Union was as equally hostile to both churches it has been maintained ever since. The present incumbent, Elias II, has been in post since 1977.

the Catholicos-Patriarch of all Georgia lives in here, Tbilisi

Nearby is the 6th century Anchiskhati Basilica, Tbilisi’s oldest surviving church. It was packed and as even the faithful were queuing for entrance gawpers were not welcome.

Anchiskhati Basilica, Tbilisi

Puppet Theatre, Tbilisi

The narrow streets of the old town continue as far as the Puppet Theatre with its crazily leaning clock tower. The puppet shows, Dinara informed us, were for adults, not children and as the next production was entitled 'The Siege of Stalingrad' we had to believe her. Rezo Gabriadze, who founded the theatre and designed the building, writes and produces all the shows. The shows have also toured extensively including visits to the Edinburgh Festival and London’s Barbican.

Puppet Theatre, Tbilisi

Leaving the narrow roads of the old city we turned left toward the commercial centre.

'Stalin's Seminary' and a Cheese Shop

Opposite the seminary…..

The seminary where Stalin trained to be a priest, Tbilisi

…. where Josef Dzejugashvili, who later renamed himself Josef Stalin, studied for the priesthood (he was thrown out for ‘revolutionary activities’), is a specialist cheese shop. I did not set out to write a sentence linking one of the twentieth centuries worst political monsters with the trivia of my own foodie obsession, but it happened and I am not going to change it. So there.

Cheese shop, Tbilisi

Cheese is important to Georgians (though I don't know Stalin's relationship with cheese, even if it is recorded) and appears at every meal either as the ubiquitous khachapuri cheese pie, or as plain wedges, but most often both. Georgian cheese is hard, crumbly and with a strong, distinctive flavour. It could be mistaken for no other cheese, but we had not encountered much variety. The cheerful cheesemonger was happy to give us a tasting, though he knew we were in no position to buy. Carving slices with pride he proved that variety does exist. He had cheeses of different shapes and sizes, some from cow's milk, some from goat's and a few sheep milk cheeses. They all had a distinctive Georgian character but varied in strength, friability, and goatiness or sheepiness as appropriate.

Freedom Square, Tbilisi

Continuing to Freedom Square we paused for a Turkish coffee. The café stood on the edge of the square where St George slays his Dragon on top of a 35m column. The sculpture in gilded bronze is the work of Zurab Tsereteli who donated it to the city. It was unveiled in 2006, filling a vacancy that had existed since Lenin, after whom the square was once named, vanished in 1991.

George and his Dragon, Freedom Square, Tbilisi

Georgian National Museum, The Treasure

After coffee we walked round the square and made our way to the National Museum. The museum equipped us with an English speaking guide, an elderly woman who asked if we would like to start with ‘treasure’ or ‘general archaeological’. Thinking it would not matter much I said 'treasure' and she took us down to a large, dimly lit basement.

Ten minutes later we were still at the first display case; clearly 'treasure' was all we were going to see. She was an enthusiast and talking in the way such people do, her enthusiasm was infectious. Objects of gold, silver and semi-precious stones, including the tiny original of the Tamada, have been recovered from burials from the third millennium BC up to the fourth century AD. Her particular enthusiasm was for the older pieces where the workmanship was, she said, the finest. Sometimes I could see her point, sometimes a more expert eye than mine was required. The gold came from the ancient Kingdom of Colchis where Jason and the Argonauts came to steal the Golden Fleece - before this trip I had not even realised Colchis was a real place.

Gold Earrings from Colchis, 5th century BC, Georgian National Museum, picture from Wikipedia

Dinara remarked that one particular group of artefacts had been discovered by her grandfather. The guide asked who he was. She knew him, of course (he is an eminent archaeologist) and she had also taught Dinara's father. Tbilisi is a small town.

After over an hour with the treasure lunch beckoned – it was well after one o'clock.

We decided to eat and then return, but to the Soviet Occupation exhibition rather than the archaeology – life is too short to see everything.

Lunch In Tbilisi, Megrelian Khachapuri

We lunched in a cavernous basement restaurant which we almost had to ourselves. 'It's always busy in the evenings,' Dinara said, slightly defensively. We ate Megrelian Khachapuri (every region had its own version but the differences are mostly too slight to concern foreigners) and mushrooms in a clay pot - seven or eight mushrooms each with a small piece of cheese melted in the cap. The dish is relatively expensive but brings out all the flavour of the mushrooms.

Georgian National Museum, The Soviet Occupation

Back in the museum, the Soviet Occupation section had similarities with those we had seen in the Baltic States (see Vilnius, Riga and Tallinn). Like the Baltics, Azerbaijan, Armenia and Georgia were absorbed into Imperial Russia by the expansionist policies of Peter the Great. All six states saw a brief flowering of freedom after the First World War but while the Baltic States remained independent until the Second World War freedom lasted only until 1920 or ‘21 in the Caucasus.

Independence was reclaimed in 1991 after the collapse of the Soviet Union, but not without a struggle. We saw the Declaration of Independence, and Dinara proudly pointed out her great-grandmother's signature in the second column.

The Baltic States are now members of the European Union and NATO. Georgia fears Russia even more than they do, having lost control of the provinces of Abkhazia and South Ossetia after Russian supported breakaways, and losing a further war against Russia over South Ossetia in 2008. In Georgia we frequently saw the EU flag flown alongside the Georgian flag, and many would like the protection of the EU and NATO – a situation to which the Russians are implacably opposed.

Emerging into the heat of the afternoon we headed back to the Peace Bridge, pausing only to photograph Lynne alongside Pushkin who spent some time in Tbilisi in the 1820s.

Lynne and Pushkin, Tbilisi

The Narikala Fortress

The cable car was now running and it swung us swiftly up across the old city to Narikala Fortress. Looking back we could see the huge Tsminda Sameba cathedral which is nearing completion….

Looking across the city to the new Tsminda Sameba Cathedral, Tbilisi

…while to the northwest the city spreads away into the distance.

Tbilisi sprawls into the distance

Narikala Fortress sits on a thin ridge....

Narikala Fortress, Tbilisi

....the land behind dropping away as quickly as on the city side. Behind we looked down onto the botanical gardens and an area of eroded badlands that seemed incongruous so near the centre of a city. Below us was the river and the Metekhi Church.

Metekhi Church and the Mtkvari River, Tbilisi

There is road access to the end of the fortress and we were surprised to find Alex waiting for us in the car park. Also there was a young man who had apparently packed the whole of a coffee shop into the back of a van. Perhaps he looked so glum because apart from my photographing him, his feat was attracting neither interest nor custom.

Coffee van, Narikala Fortress, Tbilisi

Tbilisi Thermal Baths

Alex drove us down the end of the ridge to the thermal baths where Vakhtang Gorgasali's pheasant was boiled. Most of the low domed buildings have been converted to other uses, but some survive as baths and the smell of sulphur lurks around the streets, though you have to be in exactly the right place to catch it.

The old baths, Tbilisi

At the end of the baths and rather separated from the others is a building I took to be mosque. Persian in style it is, in fact, another bath, and once described by Pushkin as the most luxurious place on earth.

Persian style baths, Tbilisi

There is real a mosque tucked behind the ridge, just one for the whole Muslim population of the city. There used to be two, one Sunni, one Shiite, but Stalin said they only needed one and should share. They still do, which could be a lesson to some of their co-religionists.

Tbilisi mosque (from the Naraqila Fortress)

We walked up the stream past the baths where the sulphur smell comes and goes to the waterfall at the end of the little ravine. It may not be the most majestic of waterfalls but it is the largest I know of in the centre if a capital city.

Waterfall by hot springs, Tbilisi

We returned to our hotel for a shower after a long hot day. Later we returned to the row of cafés in the old city and picked the wrong one. There was nothing wrong with the dolmas and soured cream, the mushrooms, or the pancakes with walnuts and honey, but they were overpriced and the service was frustratingly slow.

Tasting Georgian Wine: An Interlude in From the Caspian to the Black Sea

The Winemaking and Wine Regions of Georgia and an Assessement of the Wines we have Tasted

Georgian Winemaking - the Qvervi


Georgia
The Georgians are convinced (and they may actually be right) that they invented wine making; there is certainly solid evidence that they were at it 7,000 years ago. Their technique involved treading grapes in stone or wooden vats and then putting everything – juice, skins, stalks and pips - into a clay pot known as a qvervi. The qvervi was buried in the ground for temperature control and covered but not sealed. The juice fermented on the skins and stalks and stayed on them far longer than in the western European tradition. The resulting wines tended to be oxidised and with a flavour of the clay pot - and the whites were brown (the colour of tea was deemed appropriate). Little has changed, though they now refer to their white wines as 'amber.' Their taste is unfamiliar to the western European drinker, though still much appreciated by Georgians, to the extent that they have had the qvervi (almost pronounced querry – there is a nod in the direction of the first ‘v’ and no more than a token effort at the second) inscribed in the UNESCO list of Intangible Cultural Heritage.

Giant Qvervi, Twins Old Winery, Napareuli

Georgia has over 500 grape varieties. Most are grown nowhere else, some are so local they are unique to a single village, though only around 40 are used commercially. Subtle differences between grape varieties are of great interest to modern wine makers and wine buffs, though in the past, when wine was made in a qvervi, stored in animal skins and drunk from a horn they could hardly have been noticeable.

Brand new qvervis ready for the new vintage, Twins Old Cellar, Napareuli

Georgian Wine Regions

Georgian wines are described by region of production, sometimes down to the village and individual vineyard, and grape variety or varieties.

The designated wine regions are:

Kakhetti
Kartli
Imereti
Racha and Svaneti
Ajara

We enjoyed four tastings, all in Kakhetti, though we tasted wines from Imereti and Kartli as well as Kakhetti

1) Khareba Wines, Kvareli

15/08/2014

Khareba is a large company which owns vineyards in several regions, has two wineries and a large storage facility at Kvareli in Kakhetti where our tasting took place

Like most of the larger companies they make both Georgian-style wines and European-style wines. ‘European’, in this context meaning pretty well anywhere in the world that is not Georgia.

I was able to note the grape variety and (mostly) the region, but I do not know how these wines fit into the Khareba range of wines, nor their retail price.

Tasting room, Khareba Winery

Rkatsiteli is one the most widely planted grapes in Georgia. Unlike most of the others it is widespread throughout Eastern Europe. Like many others I have previously drunk Bulgarian Rkatsiteli - it was readily available on the British market in the 1980s. ‘Monastery’ Rkatsiteli is made using Georgian methods. Deep yellow rather than brown, its weight is mouth filling but despite its presence the flavour, slips quickly off the palate leaving only a tug of tannin - mildly disconcerting for a white wine. ‘It is,’ we were told, ‘a good wine for old people at breakfast’. I am not convinced it would be wise for this old person to take up breakfast wine drinking.

Their 'European' Rkatsiteli from western Georgia was light, almost colourless. It had good fresh acidity, light fruit and a real crispness. This wine would sell in Europe where the traditional style would struggle.

Krakhuna is a variety grown almost uniquely in Imereti. Vinified European-style it was a good deal solider than the Rkatsiteli and with slightly more colour but without a great deal of character. Lynne thought it would be a better wine with food, and she is probably right.

Oak barrels, Khareba Winery, Kvareli

As the red colour of ‘European’ wines comes from contact with the skins, Georgian-style reds are closer to the mainstream than the whites

Saperavi, the main red grape, has red flesh and juice as well as skin. The wines have a colour so intense it is as much a dye as a wine. Made in Georgian style it is rich and tannic with a fruitiness not unlike Cabernet. It was an impressive wine, but not as impressive as...

….the Premium Saperavi, European style with 20% aged in oak barrels. A step up from the regular Saperavi, this is a wine of real class.

We also tasted an Aladesturi from Imereti. Lighter than the Saperavi, and not just in colour, it had a hint of sparkle and a touch of sweetness. An easy drinking wine, it was reminiscent of an Italian Dolcetto.

A rosé blended from Saperavi, Aladesturi and Ostkhanuri, was clean and fruity, but lacked the acidity to balance its fruit.

Twins Old Cellar, Napareuli

15/08/2014

Saperavi vines (I think), Twins Old Winery, Napareuli

Napareuli is not far from Khareba, but this is a much smaller concern.

Georgian-style Rkatsiteli was darker and even heavier than the Khareba version. The level of oxidisation and tannin is such that this was the most ‘alien’ wine we tasted

Their European-style Rkatsiteli may have been taken off the skins and stalks but was fermented in a qvervi, so it still exhibited the flavour of the clay pot. We thought this is a rather clumsy wine, neither one thing nor the other.

Saperavi, Georgian-style Rkatsiteli, European style Rkatsiteli
Twins Old Winery, Napareuli

The Saperavi was more basic than Khareba’s, still rich and tannic but without the extra dimension of fruit. Although it is nothing special, I would thoroughly enjoy this wine with a winter stew.

Tsinindali Palace, Tsinindali

16/08/2014

Kakhuri Vineyard, Tsinandali.

Another qvervi made ‘European-style’ wine blended from Rkatsiteli and Mtsvane. Despite the clay pot they managed to retain the lightness and freshness of the grape, though they lost the nose.

Wine Cellar, Tsinandali Palace

Pheasant's Tears Winery, Signaghi.

16/08/2014

This Georgian-Swedish-American concern aims to produce wines so rare and beautiful you would think you were drinking pheasant's tears. When the Russian market dried up after the 2008 war the owners of Pheasant's Tears decided that for export purposes their USP was that Georgian wine was different, so they have concentrated on making organic Georgian-style wines as well as they possibly can be made. Like many wineries Pheasant’s Tears is run by enthusiasts, and their enthusiasm is infectious. I wish them well with their endeavour.

We had lunch at the winery, accompanied by four wines and finishing with a chacha (which is not a dance).

Standing on a qvervi, Pheasant's Tears Winery, Signaghi

The 2013 Chinuri from Kartli was a traditional amber white. The contact time on the skins had been limited so some of the fruit had been retained. The cleanest, crispest traditional-style wine we tasted.

Rkatsiteli from the nearby Alazani Valley was also tea coloured. The nose is strong, fresh and distinctive by qvervi standards. It has good acidity but the tannins are so prominent it could pass for a red if tasted blindfold.

The vine filled Alazani Valley, Kakhetti

Kartli Tavkveri. Tavkveri is a female vine – most are hermaphrodite – and needs to be planted alongside the male Chinuri to produce grapes. (Does Chinuri also need Tavkveri? No one said that it does. Is this silence unconscious sexism or is there some biological quirk I know nothing of?) The nose was powerful and earthy to start with evolving into plumminess. This is a big deep wine with lots of tannin. Winemaker John Wurdeman says that 6 to 9 months after bottling the tannins resolve into flavours of toasted almonds and cherries. I cannot comment on that, but we did find that red meat tamed the tannin, allowing the fruit and acidity free reign. This is a rather fine wine.

The Kakhetti Saparavi was a touch overshadowed and not, for once, the star of the show. It was a big wine, but lacked the fruit and structure of the Tavkveri.

Pheasant’s Tears Chacha. Chacha is distilled from the residue of winemaking, like grappa in Italy or Bagaceira in Portugal. At 48% this is fiery stuff, but with an intense flavour. It has a touch of the cowshed, as all such spirits have, but it also has real finesse. We bought a bottle. [update 24/02/15 We opened it at Christmas. There is still a little left - it will last to the end of our Lenten abstinence, but not much longer.]

Pheasant's Tears Chacha

That was the end of our wine tasting, though there was plenty of wine drinking during the following week. In restaurants, we learned, bottled wine was relatively expensive. Georgians drink a great deal of wine, most of it brown ‘white’ wine, but very little of it ever sees a bottle. We drank ‘homemade wine’ by the glass at lunchtime and by the litre in the evening and although it was a different wine drinking experience, we found little difficulty in developing a taste for it.

From the Caspian to the Black Sea




Saturday 16 August 2014

Telavi to Tbilisi, via Sighnaghi, Part 6 of From the Caspian to the Black Sea

A King's Castle, a Gentleman's Palace, the Nunnery of Georgia's most Important Saint and a Fine Winery

Telavi

A Little History

Georgia
Telavi

In morning sunshine, central Telavi looked rather more cheerful than yesterday's first impression had suggested.

After the destruction wrought by the Persian Shah Abbas in the 17th century, his successor Nadir Shah (for whom the Topkapı Dagger was made, though he died before the gift was delivered) appointed local princes as kings of Kartli (central Georgia) and Kakheti (eastern Georgia).

Central Telavi, on a quiet summer Saturday morning

The appointment of Erekle II (also known as Heraclius) did not turn as Shah Abbas had hoped. Erekle united the kingdoms and from 1762 ruled them as a semi-independent state. He built the sizeable castle that occupies much of central Telavi. Unfortunately it was not open, so we had a look round the outside.

Telavi Castle


Telavi Castle

Erekle was generally a wise and forward looking ruler but overreached himself when he tried to free Imereti, a western Georgian kingdom, from the Turks. He sought Russian help in 1770, then Russian protection in 1783. Although apparently a good idea at the time, once the Russians had their foot in the door it was only a matter of time before they annexed Georgia in its entirety. A brief period of independence followed the First World War, but by 1922 the Red Army had incorporated Georgia into the new USSR and that was the end of independence until the USSR disintegrated in 1991.

Telavi Castle

In front of the castle is an equestrian statue of Erekle II. Dinara was dismissive, the Soviets threw up hundreds of such statues, she told us, paying lip service to Georgian history.

Erekle II outside his castle, Telavi

900 Year-Old Plane Tree

Opposite the statute is a plane tree, said to be 900 years old. The claim is unverifiable, but it is certainly the biggest plane tree I have ever seen. It is more than likely that it was already mature when Erekle started work on the castle and it has outlived him, not to mention the Soviet Union.

Lynne and a huge plane tree, Telavi

Although our destination was Tbilisi, we set off eastwards, back towards Azerbaijan,....

Telavi to Tbilisi via Sighnaghi

Tsinandali Palace

....stopping first at the Tsinandali Palace, in the wine village of that name. The Italianate palace was built by Prince Alexander Chavchavadze (1786-1846), son of Georgia's first ambassador to Russia and godson of Catherine the Great - though he became an anti-tsarist activist and poet.

Tsinindali Palace on the Chavchavadze Estate

Photographs were not permitted inside the house, but in the literary salon where he entertained Dumas and Pushkin you can step out onto the balcony and obey the letter, if not the spirit of the law.

Lynne and Dinara in the 'Literary Salon' Tsinindali Palace

The house passed to Alexander’s son David Chavchavadze, but the good fortune of the family came to a shuddering halt in 1854 when tribesmen from Dagestan ransacked the house, kidnapping 23 women and children, including David’s wife. To pay the substantial ransom demand, David borrowed money from the Tsar. When he could not manage the repayments the house passed to Tsar Alexander III, and the Russian royal family frequently spent their summers here. Despite this misfortune, the Chavchavadze family*[update at end] have continued to play a prominent role in Georgian life and politics.

The house is set in a garden in the ‘English Style'. At the end of the Garden is a winery built by Alexander's father. Beneath the house is a tasting room where we were offered a glass of Tsinandali wine (see Tasting Georgian Wines).

The 'English Garden' and the winery, Tsinandali Palace

Sighnaghi

Saint Nino and the Bodbe Nunnery

Sighnaghi

A little further east, near the small town of Sighnaghi is the Bodbe nunnery, the burial place of Saint Nino. St Georgia may be the Patron Saint of Georgia, but St Nino, is perhaps, even more important to Georgoan national identity. She is believed to have been a Greek speaking Roman from Cappadocia, and possibly a relative of St George, who arrived in Georgia ca 320 intent on converting the country to Christianity. Requiring a cross for her work she entered a nearby vineyard - there is usually one handy in Georgia - picked up a couple of vine twigs, tied them together with a lock of her hair and so invented the distinctive Georgian Grapevine Cross.

Nino's original Grapevine (allegedly), Tbilisi Sioni Cathedral, (thanks, Wikipedia)

She first converted King Merian III of Iberia (Iberia here meaning central Georgia, not Spain and Portugal) followed by the rest of the country, making Georgia the second country (after Armenia) to adopt Christianity as the state religion. Her work done, she retired to Bodbe and died there in 332, 338 or 340 depending on which source you read. The main church is 9th century though it has endured many makeovers, most notably in the 17th century. The detached bell tower is 18th century.

The old church, Bodbe Nunnery, Sighnaghi

A striking feature of Georgian (and Armenian) Christianity is that one church is never enough, and a second one is currently being built next to it. Wealthy people who want to show their piety and gratitude for their success build a church to the glory of God. Fair enough, but when there is already one perfectly adequate church why build another next-door? Could their piety be better shown by using the same money for good works? Do Georgians want a lesson in morality from me? No. At the bottom of the hill below the new church is a spring which miraculously appeared when Nino prayed at that spot and its waters are alleged to cure a variety of ailments.

The new church, Bodbe Nunnery, Sighnaghi

The Pheasant's Tears Winery

Sighnaghi itself is dramatically placed on a bluff above the wide Alazani Valley, but before taking a look around we had lunch at the Pheasant's Tears Winery. This Georgian-Swedish-American concern aims to produce wines so rare and beautiful you would think you were drinking pheasant's tears.

Sighnaghi

After a brief glance at the cellar and a look at more qvervis we sat down to eat. When the Russian market dried up after the 2008 war the owners of Pheasant's Tears decided that for export purposes their USP was that Georgian wine was different, so they have concentrated on making organic Georgian style wines as well as they possibly can be made. Like many wineries Pheasant’s Tears is run by enthusiasts, and their enthusiasm is infectious. I wish them well with their endeavour.

Lynne, me, qvervis (at our feet) and some bottles

To say that we had a different wine with every course would be true if Georgian food came in courses. We ate bread and cheese, aubergine purée, a chard/spinach dish, green salad, a melange of wild mushrooms, beef patties (do I mean burgers?) and chips. We drank four different wines - see my Georgian wine notes (Tasting Georgian wine) - ranging from good to excellent and finished with a glass of chacha, the Georgian version of grappa. We immediately felt the need to part with 30 Laris (£10.50) for a half litre bottle.

Well fed, we staggered out onto Sighnaghi's main drag where Lynne attempted to get run over by a man apparently unaware of the difference between a hill start and vertical take-off.

Sighnaghi City Wall and The Alazani Valley

Driving through the town and out to the end of the bluff we reached one of the 23 watch towers on Erekle II’s 4 km long encircling wall.

Watchtowers on Sighnaghi city wall

Perched high above the Alazani Valley, I find it hard to imagine any attacker even getting as far as the wall.

Sighnaghi city wall above the Alazani Valley

Central Sighnaghi

Back in town we dropped in on St George’s church, one of two Georgian Orthodox churches within the city walls. It is not particularly old, Sighnaghi was an 18th century new town, but it looks older.

St George's Church, Sighnaghi

We walked through the pleasant streets of the small town pausing at the war memorial, which has far too many names for such a small place.

Just part of Sighnaghi War Memorial - so many names for such a small town

We had by now travelled 50km in the wrong direction, so the journey back to Tbilisi took a couple of hours. The roads were good, though perhaps not quite as good as in Azerbaijan and the driving was a little wilder. We left the Alazani valley and crossed rich agricultural country - with the inevitable sprinkling of vineyards.

Leaving Sighnaghi

Tbilisi: Arrival and First Impressions

Tbilisi

We seemed to drop into Tbilisi. One minute the city was not there, then we dipped down, rounded a hairpin went back under the road and there it was. Eastern Tbilisi and the 'old town' are situated along a valley, in places almost a gorge.

Across the bridge to the old town, Tbilisi

Our hotel was near the old town and after settling in we took a walk past the bars and cafés that make up this area and continued past the Sioni Cathedral (of which more in the next post), which is built in a depression. Saturday evening mass was well attended with queues outside the door.....

Queue for Saturday Mass, Sioni Cathedral, Tbilisi

...and confession being heard in the precinct.

Hearing confession in the precinct, Sioni Cathedral, Tbilisi

Konka Station

We stopped to rehydrate at a bar called the Konka Station. The Konka was Tbilisi's old tram system and a retired tram car was parked outside. As the intense heat of the day began to wane and we became more and more comfortable where we were, the thought of walking back to the hotel and then coming out later to find dinner became increasingly unattractive. We called for the menu and another beer and ordered a khachapuri (cheese pie) and a toasted ham and cheese sandwich. Although the Georgians are great wine drinkers, they brew a decent lager and eat an immense amount of their distinctively flavoured cheese. Norma and Wilson, whom we met in North Korea, have travelled extensively in the former Soviet republics. It is their opinion that khachapuri is actually addictive. They may be right.

*The family remains prominent and not just in Georgia. In October 2014 I spotted a newspaper obituary of David Chavchavadze. Born in London 1922, he moved to America in 1943. He was a writer and musician and for two decades a CIA officer in the Soviet Union division.