In which Layla and Roz embark upon a Georgia/Ukraine/Portugal holiday and see many sophisticated views...

by Layla

The decision of where to go on holiday has been rather... frustrating. We started off with Japan. But, having bought the tickets and started to get very excited, the earthquake, tsunami and nuclear dramas meant that would not have been a great plan. So we managed to cancel our tickets and get our money back. For hours we scrutinised our travel books: where would the perfect place be to go on holiday at the end of April? We almost chose Uzbekistan but then, at the last minute decided on Armenia. Until our friend told us that Georgia was a cooler place, and sure enough the travel books did seem to say it was excellent. Much musing later, we booked a flight in to Tbilisi, Georgia, and out of Yerevan, Armenia, two weeks later. And then we realised that April is the month of rain in the Caucusus, and furthermore most entertainments were of the outdoorsy walking variety. The thought of two weeks huddled in the rain made us feel miserable as we watched raindrops dominate the weather forecasts of both capitals, til we could bear it no more. We cancelled the flight home from Yerevan and, since we couldn't cancel the Tbilisi flight, planned a deranged combination of flying in to Tbilisi, staying for 5 nights, flying to Kiev for the day, then flying to Lisbon (which had lots of big suns on its weather forecast) for ten nights, before flying back to London. Simple!

And so on Sunday (me having been to a wedding in Glasgow the night before), I met Roz at Gatwick airport and we boarded a flight to Tbilisi. We arrived after 11pm and noted that it was in fact not raining. Having taken a taxi to our hotel, Citadines Apartments, just on Freedom Square, a handy location halfway between the old and new town, we dumped our suitcases and headed out. We walked along Rustaveli, the Champs Elysee of Tbilisi, with its wide streets and beautiful parliament and theatre buildings, in search of a late night drink. We ended up in 'Cafe Near Opera' which was very attractive, but somewhat deserted - which was perhaps unsurprising for 1am on a Sunday night... but they served us G&Ts and we settled down to read the very informative Georgian newspaper cheerily before I started to yawn and we headed for home.

The next day we awoke in dismay to the sight of raindrops, all too similar to those promised on the weather forecast. Donning our coats and clutching a black and pink spotty umbrella, we braved the deluge. By the time we reached Entree - an upscale Georgian chain bakery, we were wet and hungry. Fortunately, a pain au chocolat, a pain aux raisins, and some coffee and juice later, the rain had stopped, we were cheerily sated, and we ventured out into the now-dry street. We decided to follow the Lonely Planet's city walking tour, and set off back down Rustaveli, around Freedom Square and into the Old Town. We walked through streets of very ramshackle homes, and popped out near the river on a pretty pedestrianised street where we spotted a cafe and decided it was high time for lunch! The restaurant, which was probably Sans Souci, was rather sweet, with the bonus of a menu translated into English, and the flaw of having three English men at the table next to us. We contemplated what their relationship might be, while picking our food - assorted Georgian cheeses and bread for Roz, and a sort of kidney bean stew type item for me. Both options were delicious, particularly washed down with local beer as we watched the Georgian locals go by.

After lunch, the walking tour route was disturbed by the whole road being dug up, so we took a detour along by the river, stopped for drinks at another little random cafe where we whipped out our Kindles and had a little read, marvelled at a second batch of three male tourists, then continued the tour, got a little lost, and a random Georgian man came to our rescue, though it turned out we had two quite different destinations in mind. Roz and I were aiming for the famous Tbilisi sulphur baths; this man assumed we were going to Narikala Fortress. By the time he had walked us part of the way up the hill, pointed to a near-vertical road disappearing into the clouds and insisted 'there is a most sophisticated view', there was no polite way to extricate ourselves... so we decided to go in search of the promised sophisticated view. Up and up we climbed til we were at the fortress, which was fun and allowed us to climb right along the walls with a beautiful view of Tbilisi and, one imagines, of the Caucasus mountains if there was less mist.

Having taken in what was we could not deny was indeed a sophisticated view, we descended and found the Orbeliani Baths, a beautiful Portugese-style tiled building with both communal and private baths. In our confusion about what to do and our lack of Georgian language skills, we found ourselves in a private bath. Essentially this meant a little room in which to get changed, a bathroom, and a large, steamy room with a very hot, deep sulphur water bath at one end. We sank into this bath which was quite pleasant, though rather toasty, and soon I was feeling dizzy from the heat. We weren't quite sure what to do, but we stayed a while, and then got out, at which point I realised the folly of wearing a silver ring in a sulphur bath - the silver had turned completely... well, sort of purpley-gold. And not in a good way! Alas... Luckily our wedding rings emerged unscathed!

We were exhausted and wanted to take a taxi home, but failed to explain where we wanted to go, so found ourselves walking home past big old churches and a tempting ice cream shop (where I possibly had an ice cream cone... and Roz had a coffee). And then collapsed exhausted on the bed. At which point I decided to be a hero and go out in search of plug adapters. We'd foolishly only brought American adapters and as girls trialling a Kindle-dependent holiday, a lack of charger (and thus a lack of reading materials) was a fate worse than death! Thank goodness, having crossed the giant road by way of an underpass filled with people selling random stuff and a heavy metal band, I eventually located a shop and invested in two chargers. Back at the hotel, Roz's phone spluttered gratefully back into life, and we gasped in relief as our book life seemed now assured.

We settled down to watch one of the many DVDs we'd bought in case of non-stop rain - on this occasion I Do, which was a very charming and appealing French romcom, and scrutinised our guidebooks for dinner options. We settled on Dzveli Sakhli, down by the river and just one terrifying multi-lane motorway to dash across. One alarming thing about Tbilisi is its massive roads, with only an occasional underpass to enable crossing them. No such luck last night! We eventually reached the restaurant, gasping with relief, and were placed directly in front of a little band playing and singing Georgian music at quite a volume. Luckily my back was to them - Roz spent much of our dinner having to make eye contact with the clarinet player... And we marveled at our third batch of three male tourists that day.

Our hopes of delicious Georgian food have not yet absolutely lived up to expectations, but we are managing to find plenty to eat. We ordered a Georgian classic, khachapuri, essentially a big cheese pie with cheese on top. Also lobiani, which was a pie with beans in it, pkhali, which involved vegetables and walnuts in some sort of dip, and tasty corn bread. Tasty. If excessive... After dinner we walked home via Caravan, a nice little quirky bar/restaurant with a literary theme, where Roz had some local beer and I had some local wine... and a large plate of pancakes and cream. Ahem. Followed by a stroll home through the pretty streets of Tbilisi, feeling very fond of the city.

This morning we awoke to blue skies (and a weather forecast for Lisbon of torrential rain). We hopped out of bed and back to Entree for breakfast, before setting off on a long walk up Rustaveli, with its glamorous shops, little metal figurine street art, beautiful buildings and at the top, a large McDonalds. Then we went through a poorer area where there were quite a few beggars (Roz admonished me for physically removing a little girl whose hands were going into her pocket in search of money), and onwards to the poshest area, Vake, home to the university and a few chain stores popular in the UK such as Next and Accessorize. We walked all the way to the park, where I'd hoped to take the cable car to the top. But alas the cable car was stationary and deserted, and so we retraced our steps to a random (and very popular with locals) cafe for some lobiani and bean stew based lunch, and then caught a taxi to halfway up the park's hill where we went into the outdoor ethnographic museum. After Borneo and Romania, we are getting familiar with these museums that essentially involve transplanting old houses from various parts of the country to an open air park, where signs are affixed to describe the sort of time they were built and who lived in them. This version was perhaps the shabbiest we've seen but still quite nice, with a 'sophisticated view' too. We went into a few of the houses, where unusually there was a person awaiting us to tell us about the history of the house and its contents. In one there was an odd man with a cat enthusiasm - he introduced us to his many cats. Random. But rather pleasing.

After viewing a sufficient number of houses, which were really quite interesting, we caught a taxi back into town, booked a tour out of the city for tomorrow, and settled down with coffee (Roz) and milkshake (the little girl Layla) in the courtyard of a lovely English-language bookstore (Prospero's Books) and cafe (Caliban's Coffee).

And now we are back in our hotel room having a pre-dinner siesta and wondering what version of cheese and beans we'll be eating tonight. And trying not to look at the Portugal weather forecast...