Three Months in Tbilisi: First Impressions

Tbilisi has a way of drawing you in from the moment you arrive. The enchanting capital of Georgia greets visitors with an immediate sense of livability—welcoming, as if it has been waiting to be explored. Narrow, winding streets weave through cobblestone alleys, running alongside a mix of Soviet-era housing and stunning stone buildings adorned with intricate ornamentation. Greenery spills over balconies, trees line the streets, and the crisp air carries a medley of aromas—fresh bread, streamed dumplings, citrus and spice, and the occasional waft of coffee from a hidden café.

The city’s geography adds to its magic. Hugged by the Caucasus Mountains and smaller hills, Tbilisi feels both expansive and intimate, its landscape dramatic yet inviting. The Kura River winds through, naturally dividing the city into distinct neighborhoods, each offering its own discoveries—small shops tucked within residential areas, charming cafes, and unexpected pockets of history. Walkable and pedestrian-friendly, the city pulses with vibrancy yet seems to bask in a permanent twilight, exuding a quiet romance even in broad daylight. Every turn holds something new, making the simple act of wandering an adventure in itself.

Getting In

Arrival was smooth—immigration, quick and efficient. No hassle, no complications. That changed the moment we stepped outside. A swarm of taxi drivers descended, eager for business, while we tried to arrange a ride through Bolt. Within five minutes, our car arrived, and we were off to Vake for just $14—far better than the 35 euros the Airbnb had quoted for an airport taxi. It’s always worth checking multiple options—just because you’re visiting doesn’t mean you have to pay inflated tourism prices. One of the best things about Tbilisi is how easy it is to live like a local, and with the exchange rate in our favor, everything felt incredibly affordable.

One of my favorite parts of arriving in a new city is finding a place to stay that feels like home. Tbilisi makes that easy. It’s a city bursting with life, yet it has a way of welcoming visitors into real neighborhoods rather than boxing them into tourist zones. We chose Vake, staying in an apartment perched on the hills—but not too far up. It was exactly what I hoped for: a cozy neighborhood with plenty of cafes, a fruit and vegetable vendor, local shops, and a few parks where people gathered. There was a rhythm to the area—lively but not overwhelming—and I loved that we were close to the UN residences, adding an interesting mix of locals and expats.

The apartment? Lovely. Modern, well-kept, and comfortable. After settling in, we made our first grocery run. The store was clean, well-stocked, and had plenty of variety. The grocery selection at GoodWill on Ilia Chavchavadze Avenue was great and the value–approximately $90 for the week–was totally manageable. And having a well-equipped kitchen meant we could easily balance eating out and cooking at home.

Settling In

On our first full day, we set out to explore and found street art everywhere—bold, expressive, and seamlessly woven into the city’s fabric. Its quirky, raw energy captivates me. Graffiti splashes across walls, mostly tasteful, showcasing the talent and unfiltered voices of the youth. I quickly learn that the art embodies the city’s hustle culture and unmatched energy.

As we walked through the city in those first few days, something stood out to me. Tbilisi has a certain formality to it—a kind of vanity, but in the most charming and respectable way. People are always dressed like they’re headed to a dinner, a spontaneous gathering, or a girls' night out for some wine. Even the students at Tbilisi University enter the gates every morning looking polished—something I can’t help but compare to my college days when I’d roll out of bed in sweats and a T-shirt. Here, the women are impeccably styled, and a signature perfume is a must. The men, always formal yet approachable, seem to be scanning for a potential companion at all times (at least that’s the vibe I get from the intense glances I observe). It’s a flirtatious, somewhat snobbish energy, and I can’t help but absolutely love it. I start to feel a bit self-conscious in my casual clothes, but my wardrobe is sparse as we travel full time—about 20 pieces of clothing, including gym wear.

One of our first priorities is always finding a gym, and Tbilisi didn’t disappoint—the gym culture here is real. We had no trouble finding fully equipped spots with the types of equipment we use most. Our first weekend, we walked the city, hopping from gym to gym. Some were close to our apartment, others a little farther, but the walk is always easy and delightful. During one scouting mission, we passed through a charming park with an outdoor theatre vibe—statues, a stage, a space full of stories. It was lovely!

As we exited the park, we arrived at a busy street with no clear pedestrian crossing. Here. We. Go. We held our breath and ran. The gym was nice, but not really our style. We don’t need spas or misted changing rooms. We’re there to sweat, not to be seen. Fortunately, right next door was a tennis club. By chance, the Davis Cup World Championship was going on. We slipped into the bleachers to watch Georgia play Mexico. Mexico won. D encouraged me to shout congratulatory remarks in Spanish, but the crowd was definitely rooting for Georgia, and I wasn’t about to push my luck with friendly sportsmanship.

Exploring the gyms became one of my favorite parts of settling in. Each place had its own charm, but eventually, we landed on Champions—a four-story gym with almost everything we need. It became part of our daily routine, something I looked forward to—and I think D did too.

Pottery

My main mission was to find a co-working pottery studio, and, oh my goodness, I found the best place, MODI Ceramic. (It has two locations, with a shop to buy supplies near the Old Town district.) It was everything I could have hoped for and more. The studio was calm, bathed in natural light, and had a peaceful atmosphere that instantly put me at ease.

What truly set it apart was how affordable it was—without sacrificing quality or experience. The price for a four-hour co-working session was only 30 GEL (around $11), an absolute steal by any standard, especially compared to other studios I've visited. On top of that, the cost for glazes, bisque firing, and glaze firing was incredibly low, making it one of the most budget-friendly places I've practiced pottery to date. In fact, it's definitely in my top three pottery studios from all our travels, and I couldn’t have been happier to stumble upon it on Rustaveli Avenue. The best part? I started at 2 days/week and ended up going 4 days/week, fully immersed in the creative process without worrying about breaking the bank.

This hidden gem added a whole new layer of joy to our time in Tbilisi. (More to come for a sneak-peek at all the pottery that was made!)

The Gastronomy

We're not foodies. We like food, of course, but I don't take photos of it or talk about it. But D said I needed to "give to the people what they want"—food talk. Here goes my feeble attempt at drawing in the foodies. Dinners were simple but fresh. We mostly cooked at home—salads, sweet potato fries, broccoli, and burgers. Bread made occasional appearances, and we treated ourselves to nights out with steamed dumplings and khachapuri which is impossible to resist. My favorite restaurant, Amo Rame, had the most delicious dumplings, drinks, and bread*. We dined inside and out, given our multiple trips to the restaurant. And the Georigian red wine–to die for!

Sweets were everywhere, tempting at every turn, but we managed to avoid overindulging—though in a city so rich in culinary delights, it would’ve been easy. Instead, I indulged in a coffee here and there, and it never disappointed!

*The traditional bread is khachapuri, a round, cheesy bread. The most popular version is Adjarian khachapuri, shaped like a boat and filled with cheese, eggs, and butter. Warm, gooey, and delicious, it’s a must-try in Tbilisi. But we often opted for the simpler Imeretian khachapuri—round flatbread filled with melted cheese. It’s like a sophisticated grilled cheese sandwich: indulgent, comforting, and central to Georgian cuisine.