Georgia country - my solo 7 days backpacking experience
Why Georgia ?
"Scared of wide open spaces..." – How one song lyric pushed me to the Caucasus
In the days leading up to this trip, I kept thinking of a line from a song that goes: "But I’d really like to make it to Rostov or maybe Georgia. I’m scared of so much open space—what if I lose my illusions somewhere along the way..." And I thought, well, why not see Georgia for myself? I'd get the chance to see part of the Caucasus (and I’m a huge mountain lover), visit a super remote village called Ushguli, and it seemed like a budget-friendly destination—perfect for solo travel. Plus, since I’m from Virovitica, the same song kept hyping me up with the line: "There’s no pressure in Virovitica, everyone lives like hippies."
So I dove into research, planning, and buying tickets. I travelled in early May (which turned out not to be the best time for the mountains), and the trip lasted 9 days—7 full days in Georgia, and 2 lost to flights.
I landed in Tbilisi and spent 4 days exploring the city. From there, I took a quick day trip to Gori, Stalin’s hometown. I also booked a full-day tour to the mountainous Kazbegi region with a local agency. Then, I took a painfully slow train ride from Tbilisi to Zugdidi, where I caught a marshrutka to Mestia. From there, I finally made it to Ushguli, hiked to the Chalaadi glacier, and did a bit of trekking around Mestia. Getting back to “civilization” from Mestia via Kutaisi and then flying home to Zagreb was a long haul.
Tbilisi – Gori – Kazbegi
Practical tips, market madness and that one time I felt reborn after a scrub
Visa card is all you need for payments—right after landing, you’ll see the airport shuttle bus, and you can pay by just tapping your card on the scanner. Don’t even try to understand the Georgian script—it’s impossible. I used an app that translates text from photos, just snapped what I didn’t understand and let the app do its thing. Worked surprisingly well.
Don’t rent a car. Use public transport. Sometimes you'll get a decent bus, sometimes it’s the legendary marshrutka (a van). I used Google Maps and all the buses were well-marked, so it’s actually hard to mess up and go the wrong way.
There are already tons of travel blogs and guides online, so I won’t waste time giving tips on where to stay, eat, or what to see. My advice is simple: walk as much as possible and use public transport—that’s how you really connect with locals, the culture, and their way of life.
Whenever I visit a city, I go to the market first. In Tbilisi, that was the Dezerter Bazaar—chaotic, colorful, and full of everything from textiles and cheap plastic crap to delicious local fruit, cheese, and veggies.
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Their food? Incredible. Honestly, Georgian cuisine might be the best I’ve ever had—so rich in flavor and colorful dishes, mostly veggie-based (and I’m not vegetarian).
The sulfur bath was amazing—I felt like I got scrubbed clean of all my sins after a young Russian woman gave me a serious exfoliation session.
The tour to Kazbegi was cloudy, rainy, and freezing—so no stunning views or Instagrammable pics, but I met some great people: a few girls from Kenya and a guy from the Philippines. We spent the whole ride laughing. Our guide was around our age and (shockingly) the only Georgian I met who actually spoke English.
For the Kenyans and the Filipino guy, it was the first time seeing snow—their joy was so pure, my brain couldn’t even process it.
Back in Tbilisi, besides wandering around the run-down Soviet-style neighborhoods, I also visited the State Academy of Arts. Super kitschy, but I still enjoyed it.
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Tbilisi is full of second-hand clothing shops, and I spent way too much time treasure-hunting for vintage finds.
Gori, Stalin’s birthplace, was... well, there’s a whole museum glorifying him. Unsurprisingly, no mention of the atrocities.
It rained a lot in Tbilisi, but I came prepared: umbrella, waterproof shoes, and a nerdy amount of pre-trip weather research.
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| Gori, Georgia - Birthplace of Stalin |
Tbilisi – Zugdidi – Mestia
Rural Georgia at its best, and the train ride where time slows down
First-class train ticket to Zugdidi: €16.22 one way. The train was painfully slow—think Croatian Railways levels of slow—and looked familliar. I finished a whole book and stared out the window at beautiful green landscapes, tiny villages, cows and pigs roaming freely like little locals, and kids waving at the train from beside the tracks.
The train took 6 hours.
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In Zugdidi, I hopped in a marshrutka with a bunch of East Asian tourists. The driver tied luggage to the roof, drank a beer, waited until the van was completely full, then got into a yelling match (almost a fistfight) with locals—probably over turf wars or something, who knows.
At that point, I told myself: “Alright, we’re deep in the mountains now. This is going to get wild.”
The ride to Mestia took another 5 hours. The road? Rough, twisty, pure wilderness. But the views were absolutely stunning.
The Mercedes marshrutka even broke down on a hill, but thank God we had locals on board—they got out and pushed the van back to life.
That night in Mestia, I crashed in my guesthouse with a snow-capped mountain view, breathing in the peace and quiet until I fell asleep.
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| Mestia Panorama view from room |
Mestia – Ushguli
Where you arrive exhausted but sleep like a stone under the stars
The sound of a mountain stream, pigs and cows wandering around—total village dream life. Breakfast: cornelian cherry jam. Delicious.
I joined a day trip to Ushguli with the same crowd of East Asians and a local monopolist tour operator.
If you haven’t heard of it—Ushguli is the highest permanently inhabited village in Europe (about 2,100 meters above sea level) and a UNESCO site.
People live here in the rawest way, totally in sync with nature—it felt like I’d walked into a documentary.
Mud up to your knees, pigs wallowing, snowflakes drifting in the air, icy wind blowing, and the air so clean you feel it in your lungs.
The locals speak a different dialect, take huge pride in their traditions, and use this amazing spice called Svaneti salt. I’m tempted to go back just for that salt.
I bought some in a tiny Orthodox church at the top of the village—from the priest himself.
The meals I cooked back home with it? Out of this world.
After freezing my butt off in Ushguli, I couldn’t wait to return to my warm room in Mestia.
Next day, same crew—we did a short hike to Chalaadi Glacier near Mestia.
Sadly, the glacier is shrinking fast—it might soon become just a memory. I thought it would be eternal up here in the mighty Caucasus.
Our driver was in a good mood (probably hoping for extra cash for smokes), so he took us to his favorite scenic spot for a mountain panorama. It was beautiful—no complaints.
Looking back, I came too early in the season—still a lot of snow and pretty cold. But the driver told me I should be glad I came when I did, because later Mestia becomes “little China” with all the tourists.
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| Chalaadi glacier |
Mestia – Kutaisi
Not much to see, but enough cherries, steps and smiles to end the journey right
The ride from Mestia to Kutaisi took 6 hours.
Kutaisi doesn’t have much to offer, but it was nice to stretch my legs and walk after all that sitting.
Of course, I went to the Green Bazaar (another local market), bought some cherries and strawberries, and checked out the cool bas-relief art on the market’s façade.
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| Kutaisi - Green bazaar |
People and impressions: piety, spices, and one big ‘Gamarjoba!’
My general impression of Georgians?
Very religious. Super traditional. One guide even told me that many guys still want to marry a virgin.
They’re polite—several times, men gave up their seats for me on the bus.
They really dislike Russians.
They eat so well and have amazing wine.
A bit lazy—they don’t seem to do anything before 9 or 10 AM.
Maybe they’ve just accepted their fate, geographically stuck between tough neighbors: Turks from below, Russians pressing for centuries from above, Azeris not too friendly either, and not much love lost with the Armenians due to religious differences.
They’re unique—they have their own script and language, and I really hope they preserve it all.
I know I’d go back to the Svaneti region for a full week of hiking, just to catch a glimpse of Mount Ushba and get more of that amazing salt from the priest in Ushguli.
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| Typical traditional house in Georgia |
Gamarjoba, Georgia. 🇬🇪
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