The moon shines into the airplane's window. Yellow and old.
Tbilisi from above looks like some giant Christmas decoration.
We hit the ground pretty roughly. No-one can beat the pilots of Estonian Air, the landing in Kiev was more like sitting on a soft cushion.
"Welcome to Tbilisi" says the stewardess then there's a bang and silence. Hopefully nothing bad happened to her.
The business in the airport is swift. Most time takes it for the border guard to find an empty page in my passport. There's David as well as the luggage. In the city the police stop us because the car has no lights on. We don't get fined. Police are friendly. The police stations and the Ministry of Home Affairs have glass walls to symbolize transparency and zero-tolerance towards corruption.
The hotel looks at the first glance..., well, maybe I would not go in if I was alone. On a narrow street in the old town, the house has no sign of a hotel and looks rather deserted. On the second floor is a nice inner balcony and friendly host. The room is big and lovely.
Morning is misty, no one moves in the house. I boil coffee in the kitchen and enjoy walking barefoot on the balcony. The view is to the inner courtyard of several houses which look like they're about to collapse. Looks picturesque. This part of the old town should be under UNESCO protection as an endangered object, as far as I know. They haven't turned it into a museum yet.
On one table a cell phone rings for some time before sleepy host in underwear appears and answers it.
Neighborhood wakes up. A woman in the opposite house is brushing her teeth. She has a plastic curtain.
I have enough time to take pictures of the surroundings and type an sms until a familiar black Huyndai comes into view. Somehow me and David cannot call each other. In the car a song is playing and it says that it doesn't matter if the sun is shining or it's raining or snowing, it's still a morning of freedom. A wake-up song. We look at the puppet theater's clock, the tower is leaning and colorful, Sioni cathedral is no longer the head church of Tbilisi because a new and bigger one was built. The chair of the patriarch is still in the middle of the room.
All cafés are closed but the 24h khachapuri place is open. The Georgians patented sulguni cheese lately but only on the Georgian territory that doesn't make much sense.
Next we look to the baths. Most of them are bumps, only the Orbeliani sauna has a facade in Persian style with blue tiles. Inside it smells of rotten egg. There's some action, the mayor of Tbilisi is present. He could be the next president of Georgia. Prince Albert should be arriving. Good, I didn't see him in Tallinn. Albert comes and together with him also the president's car. But no president. Later we see on TV that he's already in New York.
Fellow tourists are mostly from Iran and India.
New modern pedestrians' bridge really looks like a giant sanitary towel, especially from below.
We hike to the new cathedral Tsminda Sameba that towers over the city like a giant. It smells of honey inside. The candles are of honey wax. Back we take a taxi because David hasn't been forced to walk that much since Albania.
It's exactly 12 when we arrive back to the puppet theater. There's an angel and a little show of the circle of life. Albert is there also.
I manage to get my hands on an ATM and stuff my pockets with some laris. These haven't got their name after Mart Laar but mean "scales". Consist of tetris. "Tetri" means "white".
Visit to the bookstore ends with David buying me Shota Rustaveli's "Knight in Tiger-skin" that is supposed to be the bible of Georgians.
A circle through the Ethnographical Museum where houses from all over Georgia are gathered. In one there's a man who can say some words in Estonian. He has had a few girlfriends from Estonia.
The wish to see Pantheon gets us to an empty amusement park. In the weekends people come here to get married. In Signagi and Batumi it is also possible to get married in Las Vegas style. That means 24h and right away. Somehow they can not get divorced like this.
On the top of a mountain stands Mother Georgia, with a bowl and a sword. It means hospitality and when needed, the readiness to defend the country. Some time ago the statue was replaced with a copy and for a while there were two statutes up there. This evening there were many drunk and worried people in hospitals because they believed something is wrong with their heads - they see two Mother Georgias.
We drive out of town to have dinner. The road goes up and the temperature down, from 20 to 11 degrees. Entering into a cloud means no views. The soldiers make exercises by the road.
The food is awesome, hinkali and stuff.
I like the etno disco that is playing in the car and David promises to give me this CD. Ups, I forgot. If you like something, the Georgian wants to give it to you. It's safer to like landscape and weather.
Some walking in the city and it's dark. Tbilisi goes to sleep early.
We hit the ground pretty roughly. No-one can beat the pilots of Estonian Air, the landing in Kiev was more like sitting on a soft cushion.
"Welcome to Tbilisi" says the stewardess then there's a bang and silence. Hopefully nothing bad happened to her.
The business in the airport is swift. Most time takes it for the border guard to find an empty page in my passport. There's David as well as the luggage. In the city the police stop us because the car has no lights on. We don't get fined. Police are friendly. The police stations and the Ministry of Home Affairs have glass walls to symbolize transparency and zero-tolerance towards corruption.
The hotel looks at the first glance..., well, maybe I would not go in if I was alone. On a narrow street in the old town, the house has no sign of a hotel and looks rather deserted. On the second floor is a nice inner balcony and friendly host. The room is big and lovely.
Morning is misty, no one moves in the house. I boil coffee in the kitchen and enjoy walking barefoot on the balcony. The view is to the inner courtyard of several houses which look like they're about to collapse. Looks picturesque. This part of the old town should be under UNESCO protection as an endangered object, as far as I know. They haven't turned it into a museum yet.
On one table a cell phone rings for some time before sleepy host in underwear appears and answers it.
Neighborhood wakes up. A woman in the opposite house is brushing her teeth. She has a plastic curtain.
I have enough time to take pictures of the surroundings and type an sms until a familiar black Huyndai comes into view. Somehow me and David cannot call each other. In the car a song is playing and it says that it doesn't matter if the sun is shining or it's raining or snowing, it's still a morning of freedom. A wake-up song. We look at the puppet theater's clock, the tower is leaning and colorful, Sioni cathedral is no longer the head church of Tbilisi because a new and bigger one was built. The chair of the patriarch is still in the middle of the room.
All cafés are closed but the 24h khachapuri place is open. The Georgians patented sulguni cheese lately but only on the Georgian territory that doesn't make much sense.
Next we look to the baths. Most of them are bumps, only the Orbeliani sauna has a facade in Persian style with blue tiles. Inside it smells of rotten egg. There's some action, the mayor of Tbilisi is present. He could be the next president of Georgia. Prince Albert should be arriving. Good, I didn't see him in Tallinn. Albert comes and together with him also the president's car. But no president. Later we see on TV that he's already in New York.
Fellow tourists are mostly from Iran and India.
New modern pedestrians' bridge really looks like a giant sanitary towel, especially from below.
We hike to the new cathedral Tsminda Sameba that towers over the city like a giant. It smells of honey inside. The candles are of honey wax. Back we take a taxi because David hasn't been forced to walk that much since Albania.
It's exactly 12 when we arrive back to the puppet theater. There's an angel and a little show of the circle of life. Albert is there also.
I manage to get my hands on an ATM and stuff my pockets with some laris. These haven't got their name after Mart Laar but mean "scales". Consist of tetris. "Tetri" means "white".
Visit to the bookstore ends with David buying me Shota Rustaveli's "Knight in Tiger-skin" that is supposed to be the bible of Georgians.
A circle through the Ethnographical Museum where houses from all over Georgia are gathered. In one there's a man who can say some words in Estonian. He has had a few girlfriends from Estonia.
The wish to see Pantheon gets us to an empty amusement park. In the weekends people come here to get married. In Signagi and Batumi it is also possible to get married in Las Vegas style. That means 24h and right away. Somehow they can not get divorced like this.
On the top of a mountain stands Mother Georgia, with a bowl and a sword. It means hospitality and when needed, the readiness to defend the country. Some time ago the statue was replaced with a copy and for a while there were two statutes up there. This evening there were many drunk and worried people in hospitals because they believed something is wrong with their heads - they see two Mother Georgias.
We drive out of town to have dinner. The road goes up and the temperature down, from 20 to 11 degrees. Entering into a cloud means no views. The soldiers make exercises by the road.
The food is awesome, hinkali and stuff.
I like the etno disco that is playing in the car and David promises to give me this CD. Ups, I forgot. If you like something, the Georgian wants to give it to you. It's safer to like landscape and weather.
Some walking in the city and it's dark. Tbilisi goes to sleep early.
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