The Tbilisi Rain Lets Up: Time for the Ropeway and the Mother of Georgia

Cable cars above the Kura

This is my last full day in Tbilisi.  And time to check off the last must-do item on the Tbilisi agenda:  taking a cable car up to the Mother of Georgia.

As with most of the key tourist sights, the station to catch the cable car up to the Mother of Georgia is a short walk through the Old City from my hotel.  The walk takes me close to the statue of the founding king of Tbilisi and the Metekhi church of the Nativity of the Mother of God.

And right across the Kura River is the cable car station, again, in Tbilisi, the "ropeway" station.

This sculpture is called "The Tree of Life."

Because it is filled with non-living depictions of things alive.  It is mandatory for us tourists to snap a picture or three of it when we're near.  So I did.

Time to hop on board the ropeway and see what is at the top of the hill.

And it's this view:

Left to right:  the Bridge of Peace, that ugly tube-shaped building that once, briefly, was called the Rike Center or something like that -- it doesn't matter because it is closed -- then the Air Balloon Tbilisi -- which only goes up and down -- it doesn't float all around -- and then, finally, on the right, the Holy Trinity Cathedral of Tbilisi, which dominates the skyline on the east bank of the Kura River.

This is the National Botanical Garden, I believe.

The sign said Botanical Garden, but the path led to a closed gate.  So maybe it already had closed for the day.  Or maybe it never opened today because of the deluge of rain in the morning.  Whatever the reason, it was not open for tourism.

From this vantage point, you could see the summit of the funicular at Mtatsminda Park:

Include the mausoleum building, which is the midpoint station on the funicular route.

And there she is:

The Mother of Georgia!

The Mother of Georgia is a giant statue overlooking the city.  She can be reached via ropeway or walking up an extremely long and steep staircase that no human being would ever consider using.  But the locals dogs do.  I seen it.

The day was getting late.  And I was getting hungry.  Time to descend.

Time for some photos featuring cable cars:

That is a cable car with the Mother of Georgia herself in the background.

This one has a cable car and the giant balloon that only goes up and down like a balloon-powered elevator.

And this is a cable car and the Bridge of Peace:

The hour is getting late and the stomach is getting empty.  I did not want much of a supper.  Maybe this would be the night to sample some Georgian dumplings, known as Khinkali.  The hotel door man recommended 2 Tonas, a local brew pub, for the khinkali.  Dumplings seemed like something a brew pub could do well, so off I went.

"2 Tonas" means two tons.

The restaurant was not very crowded, but, once again, the service was indifferent.

It's interesting.  Georgia is a warm, wonderful, welcoming country.  Everywhere.  Everywhere that is but the restaurants.  Then it's a rude indifference that would make a New Yorker proud.  You walk in.  Stand around.  No one wants to seat you.  And when you finally get a seat, you wait an eternity for a menu.  I thought it was me.  I thought I had a bad case of tourist cooties.  But then I saw two attractive young ladies walk in -- the time you would think the male staff would fall all over -- and they received the very same cold shoulder treatment I did.

This is the beer menu, all brews made in house.

I had the pilsener, which I thought would pair well with the dumplings.

The menu listed about seven types of khinkali.  Beef only.  Cheese only.  Mushroom only.  Mountain style, called "Mtiuluri."  And city style, called "qalaquri."  Minimum order size was five, which sounded about what my stomach needed.  I wanted to try a variety.  And I could get any flavor, as long as was Qalaquri, city style.  It was like a homage to Soviet communism.  You can have whatever you want, as long as it is the one style that is available.  Tonight it was qalaquri, which is spicier -- meaning seasoned with herbs, not with heat -- than the other types of khinkali.  Five khinkali hit the spot.

Then it was a short walk back to the hotel.

The Mother of Georgia was watching over us all.

Even lovers in the park:

And that concludes the Tbilisi part of this tour.  Tomorrow I am off to Kutaisi.  Still in Georgia.  Just not Tbilisi.

Tbilisi After Dark: Tourist Quarter Edition

The white vehicles are city tourmobiles.
I'm not much into seeing a new city by being driven around, whether a car or bus,
but those white cars are cool enough to make me reconsider.

After a long day of walking and climbing, I thought that a great way to end the day would be a soak at the sulfur baths of Tbilisi.  The best value among the Tbilisi sulfur baths is the Sulfur Bath No. 5.  It is the only "public bath," meaning everyone is out in the open bathing in the sulfur waters designed for their respective gender.  All the other baths are available only for use by private room, which is a great option for couples (because of the gender segregation).  I'm not half of a couple, so it was the public option for me.

Admission was 10 GEL (Georgian lari) for men.  That's less than three bucks.  Women get in for 6 GEL because there is no sauna on the women's side.  I paid the extra 20 GEL for the full service of scrub, massage, washing, and tea.  Well worth it.  My feet legs feel a little better, but still drained.  No pictures inside allowed.

Then it was time for supper after having not eaten since the hotel breakfast buffet that morning.

By this time, this was a tourist town after dark.

I didn't want to go to any of the restaurants too close to my hotel.  Too touristy!

It's interesting.  All of us current era tourists want to go eat somewhere that is not "touristy."  So we all go the same few non-touristy to be away from the tourists.  Together.

This is a tourist neighborhood.  There is no escaping my kind.

The cable cars, a.k.a., the "ropeway," was still operational.  It does not shut down until the time hits tomorrow, 12 midnight.

There is something about that photo that doesn't look recall, like the cable cars are glued to a sheet of indigo blue cardboard.  But that really is Tbilisi after dark for real.  Trust me.  I know.  I was there.

The non-touristy restaurant in the tourist district that I selected was the Pasanauri.

It actually might have been authentically non-touristy despite the tourist district location.

There were no pictures on the menu.  Hardly any of the staff spoke English.  Service was authentically indifferent.

I had the carrot and walnut salad for a starter.

The carrots are coated in walnut dust, which is why they are not orange.  The scallions actually dominated the flavor more than the carrot or the walnut.

I then had the ostri:

This also is known to the Georgian dining public as chashushuli.  It is a beef stew cooked in a tomato broth.  Despite being authentic -- I like to think that it was because it was authentic -- it was a little bland.  Georgian cuisine is not quite Upper Midwest USA in its flavor profile-- although your average Wisconsinite would appreciate the liberal use of cheese and eggs in Georgian cuisine.  It was, however. thankfully real.  It did not taste like someone opened a Sysco pouch and reheated it.

And with that it was time to go back to the hotel for well-earned night's sleep.

Baku After Dark

 

The Maiden Tower lit up for the evening, with Azerbaijani carpets for sale

I slept through the supper hour yesterday and I was not going to sleep through it again today. The restaurant that was highly recommended both by the food and beverage director of my hotel, and by my walking guide from yesterday, was Qaynana.

Traditional Azerbaijani cuisine on the Old City. And that means: kebab. And "kebab" means barbecue. Skewers optional.

Non-pretentious atmosphere.

My beverage was a pear lemonade. It was good, but it was so sweet it tasted like pear-infused cotton candy. Art cotton candy, I guess.

Prices were ridiculously cheap. Seven manat (about $4.20) for the chicken kebab. At that price, I assumed appetizer-sized portions, so I ordered a main dish.  Here was the chicken kebab:

That's a lot of bird. As is typical for chicken breast meat in other parts of the world, the breast had flavor and, more importantly, did not have the rubberband texture of chicken breast stateside. Seasoned red onion on the side. I was full.

But I had a main course coming.

Azerbaijani style fesenjan. I love fesenjan. It's my "go to" order in a Persian restaurant. The Mediterranean Cafe in Las Vegas makes a particularly tasty version.  Fesenjan is a stew made with chicken meat in a flavorful sauce made from pulverized nuts and a pomegranate.

 

 A couple of interesting things about this fesenjan. First, it was much more "pomegranate forward" than the fesenjan back home in Las Vegas. This is not good or bad. It's just an observation. It did make the dish sweeter. And the rice was served cooked in bread for some delicious starch-on-starch action. All that for 15 manat. In U.S. dollars: $9.00.  It was excellent but, unfortunately, not knowing what the portion size would be, I could not finish it. Ate most of the chicken, a fair amount of rice and sauce were left uneaten. No dessert, of course, even though I am 100 percent certain the dessert options would have been outrageously awesome.

So to walk off all that delicious Azerbaijani food, it was time to walk around the lit-up Old City Baku.

Turn a corner and run into an old friend:

The Flame Towers. Or, a Flame Tower. Lit up in green!

Shall we zoom in closer?

I'm going to go out onto a bit of a limb here, but if the bar/restaurant has the name "Sultan" in it, it's probably not authentic. Might be a tourist magnet, don't you think?

The lights on the Flame Towers kept changing. I was too slow to catch it when it was lit up with the colors of the Azerbaijani flag. But I did catch this:

Even the archaeology is lit up for the night:

And the day (and the night) ends at the Maiden Tower:

Finally, the jet lag is ebbing enough to let me experience Baku After Dark.