New wine in old barrels

Georgia | Anno 2017

 

Monday, July 24 | Tbilisi – Bodbe – Signagi – Chavchavadze – Telavi

Tuesday, July 25 | Telavi – Gremi – Kvareli – Alaverdi – Ikalto – Tbilisi

 

 

Monday, July 24 | Tbilisi – Bodbe – Signagi – Chavchavadze – Telavi

Through a vast, gently rolling landscape, driver Jimmy takes us eastward. We’re leaving Tbilisi behind for a couple of days to head toward Kakheti.

Kakheti is sometimes called The Cradle of Wine

Here and there, a lone pumpjack, a nodding donkey as it’s sometimes called, extracts some oil, but that's an illusion. This fertile region doesn’t thrive on oil, but on agriculture. Sixty percent of Georgian wines are produced in Kakheti. The region is sometimes called The Cradle of Wine. This is even reflected in the terminology, as guide Rati explains. Words like wine, vin, Wein, vino... all trace their roots through the Latin vinum to the Georgian word ღვინო, which you can pronounce as ghvino.

 

Here and there, a lone pumpjack extracts some oil, but that's an illusion. This fertile region doesn’t thrive on oil, but on agriculture

The love for wine didn’t prevent the Kakhetians from being a fierce and warlike people. If an enemy army came storming, they would fight each other first so that they could be in the front row themselves. Stubbornness is another defining trait of the Kakhetians – exceptionally so. Rati calls them donkeys or, on second thought, a cross between donkeys and Iranians. That stubbornness is apparent in the women too – they always get their way, he grumbles. Whether that's unique to Kakheti is something we doubt.

It must have been that very stubbornness that helped the Kakhetians rebuild their land time and time again. The Persians often cast greedy eyes on this fertile region, and its flat, treeless landscape offered no obstacles to their armies.

The most recent invasion was in 1795. At the time, the Georgians had cozied up to the Russians, believing that was the only way to fend off the Persians. The Persians, however, felt the unruly Georgians needed to be taught a lesson. They invaded, defeated the Georgian army, and destroyed the capital, Tbilisi. Throughout this ordeal, the Russians stubbornly looked the other way, knowing that once Georgia was defeated by the Persians, it would fall into their hands like a ripe fruit.

Words like wine, vin, Wein, vino... all trace their roots through the Latin vinum to the Georgian word ღვინო, which you can pronounce as ghvino

But that was nothing compared to what Shah Abbas I had inflicted nearly two centuries earlier. The Persians, under his personal command, invaded Kakheti four times, levelling cities and beheading anyone who stood in their way – fighters, civilians, and monks alike. He ordered the complete uprooting of vineyards and mulberry trees to permanently put an end to the production of wine and silk in the region.

 

Signagi

Shah Abbas I also took tens of thousands of Georgians as prisoners to Persia to turn them into ghulams – military slaves. This was a deliberate policy, as the existing Persian military elite was a significant power base. With his army of ghulams, the shah could build a loyal counterforce to the native military, one entirely dependent on him for survival, as these foreign captives had no other allies in a hostile land. Even today, the descendants of these ghulams form a vibrant community in Iran. They speak Old Georgian and have, voluntarily or not, converted to Islam. Rati finds this deeply painful, a source of melancholic reflection whenever he sees them on TV.

As the sun shines brightly in the blue sky, with a few clouds lingering on the horizon, our gaze shifts to the expansive vineyards around Manavi. Here, nearly every family is involved in winemaking. Only one grape variety thrives in this microclimate, Rati explains – the green Manavi grape.

We leave the vast plains behind and begin our ascent into the hills. Suddenly, through the foliage, there's a glimpse of the village of Signagi. From a densely wooded ridge, the white houses with red roofs overlook the wide Alazani Valley.

Nearby lies the Bodbe Monastery, the place where Saint Nino retreated at the end of her life, died, and was buried. Just as Gregory the Illuminator did for Armenia, Saint Nino played a key role in establishing Christianity in Georgia. Her life story reads like a blend of half-truths and entire fabrications.

Just as Gregory the Illuminator did for Armenia, Saint Nino played a key role in establishing Christianity in Georgia

Signagi – Bodbe Monastery – New Church

Nino is said to have hailed from Cappadocia, now part of modern-day Turkey, and lived in Jerusalem for much of her life. Her father, in turn, was a general in the Roman army charged with subduing the French – by which Rati may mean the Gauls. His zeal for converting conquered peoples to Christianity evidently ran in the family.

As often happens with saints in the making, Nino received a vision one day. The Virgin Mary herself appeared, asking Nino to undertake the mission of converting Georgia to Christianity. Understandably, Nino found this a daunting task for a young girl. However, Mary reassured her and gave her two vine branches. Nino used strands of her own hair to bind them together into a cross, a symbol that would become forever associated with her – always depicted with slightly drooping horizontal arms.

And so, Nino embarked on her journey, accompanied by Hripsime and her 35 nuns. Along the way, they encountered King Trdat III in Armenia, an encounter that proved fatal for all but Nino. As we learned during our visit to the Armenian monastery of Khor Virap last Tuesday, the massacre wiped out the others, but Nino miraculously survived.

Nino miraculously healed the king, prompting his conversion to Christianity

Bodbe – New church under construction

Around 320, Nino likely reached present-day Georgia, probably following the same route we’ve been taking, from the south via Brava. The name of the local town, Ninotsminda, not far from Brava, still bears witness to her journey. Local shepherds provided the political refugee with food and shelter.

True to her mission, Nino began preaching about Christianity in pagan Georgia. In response, pagan statues were supposedly destroyed by wind, rain, and hail – the Virgin Mary fulfilling her promise to Nino. However, it didn't have much effect. For six years, Nino was little more than a voice crying in the wilderness.

Things changed when her words caught the attention of Queen Nana, who converted to Christianity. But King Mirian remained stubborn. His defiance had consequences when he was struck blind – again, with the Virgin Mary playing a starring role. Nino miraculously healed the king, prompting his conversion to Christianity. With him, all of Georgia converted. It was the year 326, about a quarter of a century after Armenia’s conversion.

Soon after, King Mirian sent an envoy to Emperor Constantine the Great in Rome, seeking priests and bishops to help spread Christianity on a larger scale in Georgia. His request was well-received, and the returning envoys even brought back a precious relic – two nails said to have been used in the crucifixion of Jesus. One nail was lost, but the other remains in the possession of the Patriarch in Tbilisi.

However, this story is diametrically opposed to that of Saint Andrew the First-Called, who, according to tradition, founded the first church in Georgia, specifically in Atskuri, as we learned yesterday. The Georgian clergy was well aware of this conflict. The story of Saint Andrew legitimized the Georgian Orthodox Church as an autocephalous church, a status that the Patriarchate of Antioch had challenged, claiming the Georgian church should be subordinate to it. By tracing their church’s founding directly to one of Jesus’ apostles, namely Saint Andrew, the Georgians could easily dismiss Antioch’s claims. So the story of Saint Andrew was important.

Yet distancing themselves from the story of Saint Nino wasn’t an option either. Nino was extremely popular and a central figure in local devotion. Ignoring her would have been unthinkable.

Reconciling the ambition for autocephaly with popular devotion to Nino, and uniting the stories of Saint Andrew and Nino into one narrative, was a task that fell to a theologian named Ephrem Mtsire. He skilfully bridged this theological gap, and his synthesis was made canonical in 1103. The result was a carefully balanced union of both traditions. Christianity in the Middle East, it turns out, is a marvellously complex web of faith, history, and power.

The story of Saint Nino is diametrically opposed to that of Saint Andrew the First-Called

Bodge – Old church

Nun

Nuns still hold sway at the Bodbe Monastery, and it's immediately noticeable as soon as we step into the meticulously maintained garden. The recently restored church looks brand new, with a bell tower that seems as if it was plucked straight from a Protestant country in the West. Further on, a new, larger church is under construction.

 

Iconostasis

Entering the old church isn’t something you do lightly – ladies are expected to don skirts and scarves, while men must cover their shoulders and calves. Inside, the walls and ceilings are adorned with beautiful frescoes, including scenes of Adam and Eve and the Last Judgment. On a side wall, the gilded icons of Saint George and Saint Nino are displayed. Above the door of the iconostasis, the Last Supper is depicted.

The importance that Georgians attach to the grave of Saint Nino cannot be overstated

Church interior

Gilded portrait of Saint Nino with the typical cross

Further to the right lies the grave of Saint Nino. The importance that Georgians attach to her grave cannot be overstated, Rati explains. He even likes to compare it to the significance of the Prophet Muhammad's grave in Medina.

 

Stairs from the Holy Spring

Chapel of the Holy Spring

Where Saint Nino once prayed to God, a spring later emerged – a Holy Spring. It is located in a small valley, about a hundred meters below. A steep path leads us down, 767 steps deep. Directly above the Holy Spring, a newly built structure has been erected. Around ten people stand in line under the trees, each holding a white tunic over their arm. These tunics can be rented from a nun waiting behind a small window kiosk.

 

Queuing in front of the chapel of the Holy Spring

One by one, people disappear behind a curtain. There they completely undress, don the white tunic, and immerse themselves three times in the icy spring water. This ritual not only cleanses their bodies but also their souls. It takes time, but everyone remains calm, including the last person in line, who has to wait through nine more costume changes before it's finally their turn.

 

Signagi

People have inhabited Signagi since the 3rd millennium BCE, but it only became a proper city in the 18th century. King Erekle II commissioned the construction of a long wall around the city, hoping to fend off attacks from the Lezgins and the Persians. Although this ultimately proved to be a futile effort, the wall, with its 23 towers, still stands largely intact.

The fortress on the hilltop is rather modest; it likely didn’t instil much fear in the Persians. From one of the towers, we look out over the town and the plain. Inside the tower is a tiny church. The famous wall stretches in a long, straight line across the ridge. Where it makes a turn, a tower rises. For a brief moment, the play of shadows from the clouds reveals the vague silhouettes of the Greater Caucasus, over 30 kilometres to the north.

 

Many family names are identical, sometimes appearing dozens of times in a row

 

They have erected a war monument in the square for the fallen soldiers, with their names engraved in the tiles. We don’t understand a word of the Georgian script, but it’s noticeable that many family names are identical, sometimes appearing dozens of times in a row. Rati confirms this, noting that many families in these villages share the same surname.

Delicious churchkhela, homemade! a woman proclaims as she showcases her products in the square. These are walnuts on a stick, dipped in a thick syrup and then dried into a long, thick candy. The syrup can be made from grapes, kiwis, melons, plums, cherries, pomegranates – you name it. If there’s sugar in it, this lady can make churchkhela from it. Thankfully, she provides a napkin when you buy one of these sticky treats.

What Armenians call sujukh is nothing more than plain imitation of the Georgian churchkhela

Churchkhelas

Armenian Snickers, they call that in Armenia, we suggest to Rati, slightly teasingly. If you want to ruffle a Georgian’s feathers, this is the perfect setup, as it turns out. Rati is infuriated. How dare they! A churchkhela has nothing Armenian about it; it’s an authentic Georgian product. What Armenians call sujukh is nothing more than plain imitation. Whether he sometimes puts an Armenian in between his sandwiches for breakfast, we ask him. He grins.

 

Alazani Valley

We stroll down the cobblestone streets of the town. Some houses have been renovated, while others sport peeling facades. Nevertheless, there’s a historical charm to the place, even with a hint of Italian influence. However, calling it the City of Love or even Little Paris in their promotional material seems a bit of an exaggeration to us. The noisy quads that some tourists use to tear through the streets do nothing to change our minds – in fact, quite the opposite.

Kakheti is renowned primarily for its wines, and we haven’t yet paid any homage to that

We almost forgot – Kakheti is renowned primarily for its wines, and we haven’t yet paid any homage to that. In Tsinandali, we can still make up for it. Bus driver Jimmy drops us off at the Home Museum of Alexander Chavchavadze.

 

Tsinandali – Home Museum of Alexander Chavchavadze

It’s just before four when we enter the estate with the famous Italian-style palace. Classical music fills the beautiful, somewhat neglected park. Our guide, accompanied by her eight-year-old daughter, doesn’t shy away from grand statements. One of the most important and versatile personalities in 19th-century Georgia was the man who built this palace – both an aristocrat and a rebel, a poet and a politician.

He was a Georgian through and through but was born in 1786 in Russia, specifically in St. Petersburg, where his father was the ambassador of King Erekle II. As a teenager, Alexander Chavchavadze rebelled against the Russian occupiers, which resulted in a year of exile. This did not stop him from fighting alongside the Russians against Napoleon in 1814. In 1832, a conspiracy against the same Russians ended in failure, leading to another five-year exile.

Despite all this turmoil, he blossomed into one of Georgia’s greatest poets. He was an erudite man, speaking seven languages and translating numerous works from Russian and Western European languages into Georgian. Promoting Georgian culture was his great passion, particularly Georgian romantic literature.

In his salon in the capital, Tbilisi, he hosted the crème de la crème of Georgian and Russian society. He also took the upliftment of the people to heart. It is thanks to him that Georgia became aware of the existence of exotic items such as pianos, horse-drawn carriages, and billiard tables.

He had his estate in Tsinandali built in 1818. We are shown half a dozen rooms – a dining room with Limoges porcelain, a study, a bedroom, and more. The furniture and paintings often bear silent witness to the influence of the court in St. Petersburg.

Thanks to Chavchavadze Georgia became aware of the existence of exotic items such as pianos, horse-drawn carriages, and billiard tables

Alexander Chavchavadze – Study		Relaxation room
Dining room		Bedroom and bathroom (back left)

That fairy tale came to an end in 1848. A certain Imam Shamil, the emir of Dagestan and Chechnya, had managed to establish himself as a self-proclaimed, God-inspired religious leader. His lofty intention was to unite the Caucasus under his authority, establish an Islamic state with Tbilisi as its capital, and impose sharia law everywhere. To finance this, he regularly carried out raids in Georgia. Kidnapping people to secure the release of fellow fighters proved to be a particularly effective method. Nothing new under the sun, then.

The estate stood no chance against such a threat, especially when Shamil arrived with an army of ten thousand men. The costs to ransom the family and rebuild the estate to its current condition ruined the Chavchavadzes. Thus, the estate fell into the hands of the Russian Romanovs in 1886. The wines from that time still gather dust in the cellar, with the oldest bottle dating back to 1841. Impressive, but that's not the wine we came for.

We taste five wines, including the famous dry white Tsinandali and a sweeter red Saperavi. But ultimately, it's the excellent chacha that captures the most interest. This is a brandy distilled from the pomace left over after the aging process. It has a production process similar to Italian grappa, and it does have a somewhat similar taste.

 

Caucasus

It's just a fifteen-minute drive to Telavi, the largest city in Kakheti. To the right, the Caucasus now boldly rises above the clouds. Later in the evening, lightning strikes and thunder announce a heavy storm. Like a mountain river, the rainwater rushes down the sloping streets, creating gentle ripples. Only a few vehicles dare to brave the tempest, with high curtains of splashing water fanning out around their wheels.

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Tuesday, July 25 | Telavi – Gremi – Kvareli – Alaverdi – Ikalto – Tbilisi

The remnants of last night’s deluge have all but vanished, save for a handful of stubborn puddles. It's sunny with a few clouds. It seems to be shaping up to be a radiant day.

That Kakheti is an important wine producer, we should know by now. If for some reason we have missed it, there is no reason to despair. With a few wine tastings ahead of us, we can easily catch up.

But first, we have other activities waiting for us. A stroll through Telavi, to begin with. The name of the city is said to be derived from the word tela, meaning elm. However, Ptolemy does not mention this when he refers to Telavi in his writings from the 2nd century CE.

Over time, the place developed into a rich and cultured city. So much so that during the Golden Age, it became one of the most important cities in the united Georgia under King David the Builder.

From the 15th century onward, that empire fragmented. The local principality of Kakheti was established, with Gremi as its capital. It wasn’t until the 17th century that King Erekle II was able to restore some unity to the fragmented Georgia.

This quickly benefited his birthplace, Telavi. It grew into an important centre, both strategically and culturally. Today, while still an important centre with its twenty thousand inhabitants, it serves primarily as an administrative hub.

During the Golden Age, Telavi became one of the most important cities in the united Georgia under King David the Builder

Telavi – Gate of Batonis Tsiche

We ascend along Erekle II Street towards the fortress that has dominated the city since the 17th century. Batonis Tsikhe is its name, or Palace of the Lord. In the 18th century, this was the permanent residence of King Erekle II. Even today, the fortress towers over the city with its imposing castle walls and watchtowers. The castle also houses a museum, but it has been closed for renovations for quite some time. Whether that renovation will ever come to an end, and if so, when, remains a mystery to everyone, according to Rati.

‘Winter in Kakheti’ inevitably brings to mind the winter landscapes of the Flemish painter Pieter Bruegel the Elder

Winter in Kakheti (Elene Akhvlediani, 1924)

Equestrian statue of Erekle II

A few panels at the foot of the castle wall catch our attention. They feature paintings by Elene Akhvlediani, a popular artist from the early 20th century. One of her early works, Winter in Kakheti from 1924, inevitably brings to mind the winter landscapes of the Flemish painter Pieter Bruegel the Elder.

 

Telavi, Alazani Valley, Caucasus

With the city at our feet, we gaze over the Alazani Valley. In the distance, the Caucasus dominates the entire northern horizon.

Erekle II is still celebrated as one of the bravest kings of Georgia, as evidenced by his equestrian statue. Yet, he must have been a tragic figure. Implementing reforms, modernizing the country, and curbing the power of the feudal aristocracy came easily to him. However, keeping the Persians at bay was a different challenge altogether.

For over 900 years, the oriental plane has gazed out over the Alazani Plain

Oriental plane

Barely had Erekle passed away when Georgia was annexed in 1800. Not by the Persians, but by the Russians. It happened overnight, with a simple stroke of the tsar's pen, as Rati puts it. The Georgians learned of their new Russian identity from the pulpit in church.

The massive oriental plane in the square opposite the castle has witnessed all of this and much more. For over 900 years, it has gazed out over the Alazani Plain – though its best years seem to be behind it. The fact that the tree still stands is solely thanks to the straps that hold its vertically split trunk together.

From afar, the imposing silhouette of the Gremi citadel announces itself

Gremi Citadel

In search of what remains of the former capital of Kakheti, we cross the wide Alazani Plain. From afar, the imposing silhouette of the Gremi citadel announces itself. It dominates the surroundings from a foothill of the Caucasus, right where the Biola flows into the Intsobi. Two insignificant streams in a bed that seems far too wide, or so it appears. But that's just an illusion. When the melting snow from the Caucasus rushes down in spring, the Intsobi can overflow its banks and flood the village of Eniseli. Just three days ago, the Georgian Minister of the Environment visited here to inspect the works on the raised river banks.

 

Gremi Citadel

It was King Levan who founded Gremi and made it his capital. For five years, he had managed to hide in the mountains while his father was held captive by a rival prince. After yet another invasion by the Persians, he saw his chance in 1518 to seize power in the desolate Kakheti.

 

Apricot tree

Ultimately, this led to a period of relative calm and peace. Levan sought an alliance with the Russians to counterbalance the encroaching Persians. Gremi developed into an important trading centre on the Silk Road.

However, more was needed to curb Shah Abbas I. In 1616, he ordered Gremi to be destroyed and thousands of prisoners of war to be taken to Persia. Gremi never recovered from that blow, and Telavi became the new capital of Kakheti.

The influence of ancient Persia is evident here, as we notice some typical arches

Gremi – Small brick church

Rati leads us to an abandoned church in a corner of the estate. The influence of ancient Persia is evident here, as we notice some typical arches. Above the entrance, there’s an inscription written not only in Georgian and Armenian but also in Farsi – written in Arabic script, to be precise.

 

The restrained beauty reaches its peak in the elegant dome

It’s a small brick church that rises high above the surrounding fruit trees. Its simplicity lends it an unmistakable charm. Inside, the austerity reigns, with a restrained beauty that reaches its peak in the elegant dome.

 

Gremi – Gate of the citadel

Church of the Archangels – Frescoes in side chapel

It must have been a bustling place, the commercial district of Gremi located a bit further away. Archaeologists have uncovered around thirty market squares, each enclosed by the rooms of a caravanserai. These little inns must have been in operation year-round, as they discovered hearths for heating and cellars that served as cooling spaces. Shops, workshops, and even a goldsmith's atelier have been found there. A public bathhouse was also available, heated by a hypocaust system.

 

 

In the distance, on the hillside, stands a watchtower, again featuring a small church, much like in Signagi. However, the focus here is primarily on the citadel. It lies high on a hill, intact and well-maintained, surrounded by a robust fortress wall with towers and arrow slits. We ascend through the gate.

 

King Levan with model of the Church of the Archangels

The centrepiece here is the Church of the Archangels, built in 1565. This brick structure was constructed under King Levan, proudly holding a model of the church on one of the many frescoes from 1577.

 

Fresco with canopy

Royal toilet

Things were likely much less formal in the small room at the back of the bell tower, which served as the royal toilet. Sitting on a freezing cold stone with his bare bottom must not have been a pleasant experience for King Levan.

 

Church of the Archangels

A panoramic view of the fertile Alazani Valley awaits us at the top of the bell tower. It’s a peaceful scene, this open plain with its green fields and vineyards, and the Alazani River flowing slowly between the trees. It’s almost unimaginable that armies once stormed through this valley in ruthless fury.

 

Alazani Valley

Now we head to Kvareli, about twenty kilometres east in the Alazani Valley. This is the heart of the wine region – the name Kvareli is almost synonymous with wine. We know for certain a winery must be approaching.

It’s almost unimaginable that armies once stormed through this valley in ruthless fury

Alazani Valley

But that is a mistaken thought. Jimmy drops us off in a sprawling, well-maintained garden at the foot of a vertical rock face, far from any vineyards or wineries. A broad tunnel has been drilled into this vertical rock, an outcrop of the Caucasus. A cold wind greets us as we approach. We can't help but notice that warm blankets are within reach and ready for use. That does not bode well

Then Giorgi appears and welcomes us to the Chareba winery. So there is a winery after all. They have a thousand hectares of vineyards, but those are located elsewhere. The production also takes place off-site. What happens here is simply storage.

If this seems like an unusual place for aging wine, Giorgi fully understands. Originally, this was a military shelter. The world was still under the shadow of the Cold War back then.

In 2004, once they deemed all danger had passed, they converted the shelters into wine cellars. The conditions for storing wine here are indeed ideal: a constant temperature of 10 to 11 °C (50 to 52 °F) year-round, a humidity level of 70 %, and excellent ventilation – though we would rather call that a chilly draft.

Thus, the largest wine cellar in Georgia was born, housing thirty types of wine and an impressive 26 000 bottles. The oldest of these, Giorgi calculates for us, is thirteen years old.

Originally, this was a military shelter. The world was still under the shadow of the Cold War back then

Kvareli – Chareba Winery

As we enter one of the main tunnels with a slight shiver, Giorgi points to a spot where a section of the granite, which makes up the mountain, is still visible. Dynamite was used back in the day to excavate a total of 7,7 kilometres of tunnels. Two parallel main tunnels extend 800 meters deep into the mountain, interconnected by 13 smaller tunnels, each about 500 meters long. Everywhere we look, wine barrels are stacked high.

Georgians have been making wine for eight thousand years, but in their own traditional way. This means they ferment the whole grape – not just the juice like in Europe. Moreover, they don’t age the wine in wooden barrels but in kvevri. These are earthenware vessels that are entirely buried in the ground. Fermentation also occurs in these kvevri.

Despite the high quality of these traditional Georgian wines, they struggle to make a mark in the European market. Therefore, they also began producing wine using what they refer to as the European method. This strategy has proven fruitful; they have won 47 gold medals for their new wines, including one in Brussels at the Concours Mondial Bruxelles 2013 for a Saperavi Premium 2010.

So cosy they think this underground is, that they have set up their tasting room in one of the cross tunnels. With scientific seriousness, we compare a traditional dry white Mtsvane from the warmer climate of Eastern Georgia with a Krakhuna from the cooler west. Not surprisingly, the former has more sugar and less tannin. We round off our tasting with a red Saperavi.

Georgians have been making wine for eight thousand years. They don’t age the wine in wooden barrels but in kvevri. Fermentation also occurs in these kvevri

Kvareli – Kindzmarauli Corporation – Kvevris

In Kvareli, they must have thought you can't stand on one leg. So, after lunch, we head down to Kindzmarauli Corporation, our second winery in three hours. It's quite busy there, so busy that they flip our schedule – first we taste the wines, then we visit the facilities. As far as we still will see the difference between a fermentation vat and a haystack after the tasting.

Traditional Georgian white wines are always dry, Mari explains as she pours the first glasses. It takes some getting used to for us, a wine aged in clay. Meanwhile, its European counterpart has already appeared on the table. Things move along at a scorching pace now – thanks to the crowd, you know – starting with a traditional red wine made from the Saperavi grape, quickly followed by two European red wines. We especially note that the latter are quite sweet, so sweet that they remind us of port.

While Mari seeks out a new tasting audience, Natia takes over. The way she praises the wines, with her high, shrill voice, gives her an ecstatic quality – as if she has had more of the wine than we have.

The corporation has clearly grown organically from its artisanal roots

Transport in wine bags …

… and wine jars

As we learn, the royal family was already operating a winery here in the 16th century. However, it wasn’t until 1990 that the first private winemakers got to work. Today, this corporation is supported by four companies, collectively managing 300 hectares (740 acres) of vineyards, producing two million bottles a year. That’s 40 different wines, based on 15 grape varieties, exported to 19 countries.

Perhaps the estate looks a bit messy, and the buildings somewhat worn – this is no sleek, modern production facility. But the authenticity is undeniable. The corporation has clearly grown organically from its artisanal roots. In fact, nearly every family in this region now produces their own homemade wine.

 

Dozens of kvevris are buried in the ground, their round openings sealed with lids featuring air holes

A great opportunity for us, because we can finally set foot in a traditional production house. Dozens of kvevris – large clay vessels – are buried in the ground, their round openings sealed with lids featuring air holes. Be careful not to step on a lid, we're warned, you might fall through. The underground temperature remains a constant 14 °C (57 °F), perfect for aging wine.

The wine in these clay vats is stirred four times a day for two weeks. Red wine ages for seven months, while white wine needs nine months. The sediment left behind is distilled into chacha, a process we’re already familiar with.

A single improperly cleaned vat could ruin 5 000 litres of wine, so meticulous cleaning is essential before reuse. They use an unusual kind of brush, made from strips of cherry wood, which Natia assures us works excellently – even against bacteria.

Natia then points out a wooden box once used for pressing grapes by foot – only children's and men's feet, she giggles, never women's. But those days are gone, with modern wine presses now the standard. Bacteria, it seems, are no longer a concern.

When it comes to investments, they’re clearly on top of things. Natia proudly shows us their brand-new stainless steel fermentation vats, installed just last week to increase European wine production. That would not have been possible with the old fermentation vats standing outside.

Part of the European method involves oak barrels, which are also brand new and made from Hungarian oak. Aging wine in clay gives a rougher flavour, Natia explains, while oak barrels produce a rounder, softer taste. However, new barrels must be kept constantly moist to prevent excessive wine evaporation during the initial aging process.

 

The brand-new stainless steel fermentation vats were installed just last week to increase European wine production

Every year, activity picks up in February and continues until November. For now, the flashy equipment in the bottling plant is still idle. Later in the year, the corks and labels will be put on the bottles – Portuguese cork, Natia adds in conclusion.

But winemaking isn't solely the domain of modern enterprises. Monks, too, are well-versed in this ancient craft. This becomes evident at the Alaverdi Monastery, where we can witness firsthand how deeply this tradition is rooted. In the 6th century, this location, nestled in a wide bend of the Alazani River, was a desolate place. A perfect spot for a hermit, thought Yoseb Alaverdeli, a monk who had journeyed inland from Antioch. And there, he set himself to meditate.

 

Alaverdi Monastery

As is common in legends, one day a nobleman passed by. He was so impressed by the courage of the solitary monk that he immediately had a church built, dedicated to Saint George.

Many years later, during the golden eleventh century, they set to work again. The small church would be replaced by a cathedral. And what a cathedral it was. Until 2004, this was the tallest church in Georgia, with a spire that rises 55 meters above the ground.

 

Alaverdi Monastery

Vineyards surround the renovated monastery building on the bank of a small river. Imposing outer walls remind us that in this plain, you always had to fear enemies. Satellite dishes, on the other hand, seem to suggest that the monks no longer perceive the outside world as hostile.

 

When it comes to making wine, monks also know their stuff

Suddenly, a woman comes running after us. But it's not the men she's after, it's the women. They are required to put on a skirt over their long pants before entering the monastery.

 

Alaverdi Monastery, Caucasus

Within the monastery walls, well-maintained vineyards have also been established. The cathedral that rises before us is an impressive building – still the second-largest church in Georgia. The exterior walls are simple, unintentionally highlighting the striking mix of construction materials. That sometimes happens when building the cathedral takes many years.

 

Alaverdi – Church portal, Saint George with the dragon

Monks prepare for the service

Above the portal, we notice a fresco of Saint George spearing a dragon with his lance – a reference to the original church. The space we now enter is immense, with three high, vaulted naves and a dome with tall, narrow windows through which sunlight streams in. It's rather strange, such a gigantic church standing in the middle of the fields.

Until 2004, this was the tallest church in Georgia, with a spire that rises 55 meters above the ground

Monumental church interior

Apse – Fresco of Mother of God with Jesus

At the front, two solemn monks in black robes are bent over a lectern with holy books, likely preparing for a service. On the curved vault of the apse, we recognize the Virgin Mary, with a young Jesus as a baby on her lap. Other frescoes have not withstood the centuries as well. Noble families also attended mass here, watching from the high balcony at the back of the church.

The church is dedicated to the transfiguration of Jesus on Mount Tabor

Ikalto Monastery

Monasteries in Georgia were generally founded by monks from the Mediterranean region. An exception to this rule is the Ikalto Monastery, as Saint Zenon had Assyrian roots and thus came from the east.

Beyond that, not much is known about this figure, Rati readily admits. Initially, Zenon must have lived in the mountains. Later, he descended to this remote place to found the monastery, and it is here in Ikalto that he is also buried.

In the 9th century, his modest church was replaced by the larger Church of the Transfiguration, dedicated to the transfiguration of Jesus on Mount Tabor. Rati points out the pediments, which were introduced during a 17th-century renovation. He refers to them as Western influences, not without a hint of disdain.

The fact that the building still stands so well today, amid the graceful cypress trees, is thanks to a telecommunications company. They were willing to finance a fine renovation, at least until 2010. After that, the funding stopped.

 

Ikalto – Church interior with wooden iconostasis

It’s a modest little church, though without frescoes. On the weathered, pockmarked walls and the wooden iconostasis, they’ve hung religious paintings instead. Against the right sidewall, we notice the tomb of Saint Zenon. The step in front of the stone tomb is smoothly polished, suggesting that many believers have knelt there in reverence.

The step in front of the stone tomb is smoothly polished, suggesting that many believers have knelt there in reverence

Holy Zenon

Tomb of Saint Zenon

Overgrown grass between bare walls is all that remains of the famous Ikalto Academy since Shah Abbas ravaged the area in 1616. This building was only added in the 12th century, during Georgia’s Golden Age under David the Builder. Education was highly valued at that time. Unlike the Catholic Church, the Georgian Church never hindered education and science, Rati notes with a touch of subtle pride.

The Ikalto Academy came close to rivalling even the renowned Gelati Academy

Ikalto – Academy

The Ikalto Academy came close to rivalling even the renowned Gelati Academy. Georgia's greatest poet, Rustaveli, is said to have studied here. The curriculum included theology, rhetoric, astronomy, philosophy, geography, and geometry, but also more practical skills like pharmacology, pottery, and metalwork.

 

Ikalto – Empty wine barrels

And viticulture, of course. This is evidenced by the many empty earthenware barrels scattered haphazardly throughout the garden. The monks even had an open-air wine press made of stone, measuring no less than eight meters in length.

 

Ikalto – Wine press

A smaller church is dedicated to the Holy Trinity. Three stone arches in a horseshoe shape form the iconostasis there. There you notice the influence of Assyria at that time, Rati points out.

 

The Holy Trinity is represented by three angelic figures that seem interchangeable. Who's who?

A God the Father with a long grey beard, a crucified Jesus, and a white dove fluttering above – that’s the familiar image that Western Christians have of the Holy Trinity. But that’s not how it works in an Orthodox church. Instead, you find three angelic figures that seem interchangeable. Who is who? Is God the Father in the middle? Is Jesus at His right hand? We can't figure it out.

 

Ikalto Monastery

As driver Jimmy sets off on our way back to Tbilisi, Rati wants to elaborate on modern Georgia instead of focusing on its history from centuries ago.

 

Georgia is one of the 29 countries that signed the Bologna Declaration of 1999

To begin with education, Georgia is one of the 29 countries that signed the Bologna Declaration of 1999, which created a European higher education area. Bachelor’s degrees, master’s degrees, credit points, and Erasmus programs are all familiar here. In that regard, Georgia can indeed consider itself part of Europe, which is not surprising given the numerous EU flags you find throughout the country.

Compulsory schooling starts at age six and ends at eighteen. Along the way, students can switch to a form of vocational training after nine years, although this means they forfeit their chances of attending university. If they successfully complete twelve years of schooling, they become eligible for university, provided they pass an exam on three subjects: grammar and literature, mathematics and logic, and a foreign language – usually English.

Compulsory education is free, and textbooks are also provided at no cost, at least for those from low-income families. Private education exists as well, but it is very expensive. Attending university costs about 2 250 lari per year – just over eight euros.

This is incredibly cheap, except when you realize that a teacher earns only 215 lari per month – ten years ago, it was even just 50 lari. That is a significant improvement, to be sure, but still far from enough, according to Rati.

 

The brain drain even exceeds the birth rate – Georgia is gradually depopulating

It’s clear that a large number of highly educated individuals are leaving the country. Russia alone has welcomed around 800 000 Georgians. This brain drain even exceeds the birth rate – Georgia is gradually depopulating.

Military service is mandatory – at least for the male population – and lasts 18 months. If you are an only child, you are exempt from serving. University students can defer their service until they finish their studies.

In addition, there is also a professional army. Maintaining good relations with the West is very important to Georgia. Because with a bold neighbour like Russia, you never know. So Georgia is always one of the best students in the class when troops have to be sent to foreign places like Iraq and Afghanistan, Rati concludes not without a hint of bitterness.

Regarding healthcare, access to health insurance only came about when Saakashvili came to power. Since then, most citizens have insurance through employer contributions.

It's half-past eight when we arrive in Tbilisi. We check in for three nights.

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Jaak Palmans
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