Between Past and Present. A Trip down the Nostalgia Lane

 

We left Tallinn right on schedule - 9pm on Monday with the plan of spending the night on airplanes, in airports, and yet still wake up in Tbilisi like functional human beings.

By the time we landed at 5am, we had fully transcended normal human needs like comfort, and proper sleep. Immigration was quick, efficient, and delivered with just the expected amount of emotional warmth - meaning none at all. A masterclass in “you may enter, but don’t expect a smile.”

Outside, a swarm of taxi drivers greeted us like long-lost relatives. After some light dodging and polite refusals, our app ordered ride arrived and by 6am, miraculously, we were already in our hotel room.

Breakfast started at 7am. We decided instead to proceed with a nap. At 10am, feeling like semi-reassembled human, I headed down (Scott decided to skip breakfast) for what I assumed would be a glorious 5-star breakfast experience.

What it wasn’t, was a 5-star experience. Let’s just say expectations were high, and the buffet was… not. A polite disappointment. The kind where you eat anyway but silently judge every croissant.

Refueled (emotionally if not gastronomically), we stepped into the city.

First stop: Liberty Square - grand, open, and a perfect introduction to Tbilisi’s personality. Then another square (names blurred slightly), followed by streets that felt like stepping into two different worlds at once.

On one side: stunning wooden houses with delicate lace-like balconies.

On the other: completely abandoned buildings, slowly surrendering to time.

The contrast was striking - beautiful and crumbling, alive and forgotten - all in the same glance.

Hunger hit quickly, and we answered with a proper Georgian introduction: kharcho and khinkali. Rich, hearty, and flavorful. From there, we wandered toward the Bridge of Love, drifting into the famous sulfur bath district. Nearby, a waterfall appeared in the middle of downtown like the city just casually decided nature should be part of the architecture.

Then came the real cultural highlights:

• Wine ice cream (yes, it exists, yes, it’s amazing)
• Oily donuts that tasted exactly like childhood nostalgia

We crossed the futuristic Bridge of Peace - a glowing contrast to the old town - and eventually admitted defeat to our energy levels.

After a short recharge at the hotel, we headed out again for dinner. More kharcho (no regrets), eggplants with walnuts, trout - each dish better than the last. Georgian cuisine was quickly establishing dominance over our entire trip.

A quick stop at a shopping mall followed - because nothing says “cultural immersion” like chocolate browsing and staring at home goods while half-asleep.

And then… to the pillow issue. Earlier in the hotel, we encountered what might have been the most unexpected challenge of the day: the pillows. They were enormous. Dense. Unyielding. Like sleeping on stacked concrete blocks - specifically, Narva cinder blocks for those who know.

We had checked with the reception:

“Do you have thinner pillows?”

→ No.

“Maybe something softer?”

→ No.

“Children’s pillows?”

→ No.

“For babies?”

→ Still no.

At this point, we had decided to take matters into our own hands.

Right before heading back to the hotel, we made a quick stop in Jysk and two pillows later, we returned victorious, ready to finally sleep like civilized people.