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August 17, 2025Wine, Peaks & Design: A Journey Through Georgia
From the moment you land in Tbilisi, Georgia reveals itself not in grand declarations, but in subtle, intoxicating layers. A street corner hums with café chatter beside a crumbling Art Nouveau balcony. The air is perfumed with fresh tarragon and woodsmoke. Somewhere, a qvevri of amber wine rests underground, quietly completing a ritual that has endured for eight millennia.
This is a country where design hotels rise from the bones of Soviet industry, where snow-dusted peaks of the Caucasus stand watch over medieval churches, and where the simple act of pouring wine is elevated into a ceremony of poetry and toasts. It is a place that rewards lingering — drifting from Tbilisi’s creative enclaves to the vineyard-draped valleys of Kakheti, and onward to mountain lodges where the horizon feels endless.
In Georgia, luxury is never ostentatious. It’s found in the weight of a hand-thrown clay cup, the patina of a centuries-old wine cellar, and the way a hotel’s window frames a view like a perfectly composed photograph. It’s the kind of journey that stays with you — not because of the things you see, but because of how the place makes you feel.
Tbilisi — The Capital as a Living Canvas
There’s a moment, standing on a balcony in Tbilisi’s Vera district, when the whole city seems to breathe at once. You can see the patchwork roofs, the domes of ancient churches, the cable car inching its way to the Narikala Fortress. Down below, street cafés hum with conversation, while jazz drifts from an open window.
This city isn’t shy about its contradictions — a single street might carry the scent of freshly baked khachapuri from a tiny bakery, the glint of a modern glass façade, and the shadow of a crumbling Art Nouveau balcony.

The Stamba Hotel is the ideal place to begin such a journey. Once a Soviet-era printing house, it wears its history in exposed brick walls and steel beams, softened by velvet chairs, lush potted palms, and warm brass lighting. The lobby feels like a modern salon — designers sketch in Moleskines over flat whites, a couple leafs through vintage photography books, a lone traveler types at a reclaimed oak desk as if it were the most natural office in the world.
A few blocks away, Rooms Tbilisi offers another version of the city’s creative pulse — this time with loft-style rooms, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a courtyard that feels like a film set from the 1960s. In both, you’re not simply staying in a hotel; you’re inhabiting a carefully curated space that tells the story of Georgia’s design renaissance.
By night, the city leans into its role as a culinary storyteller. At Café Littera, chef Tekuna Gachechiladze reimagines traditional Georgian dishes with contemporary elegance: duck breast with blackberry sauce, trout bathed in tarragon cream, a glass of qvevri-aged Rkatsiteli that glows like molten gold in the candlelight. Across town, Shavi Lomi takes a more rustic approach, serving lamb slow-cooked in clay pots under an open sky.
The Road to Kakheti — Georgia’s Liquid Soul
Eastward from Tbilisi, the landscape begins to soften. Hills rise gently, vineyards stripe the valleys, and the light turns that particular shade of honey that makes you understand why poets once compared wine to the sun’s own blood.
This is Kakheti, the country’s foremost wine region and the beating heart of an 8,000-year-old vinicultural tradition. Here, wine is not merely an agricultural product; it is an inheritance, a living history preserved in clay vessels called qvevri, buried beneath the earth in cellars that smell faintly of time itself.

The Tsinandali Estate is a fitting base for immersion. Once the home of Prince Alexander Chavchavadze — poet, statesman, and bon vivant — the estate’s gardens bloom with roses, and its 19th-century cellars hold bottles dating back to 1814. The Radisson Collection has transformed the estate into a hotel that blends neoclassical elegance with modern comfort: picture marble staircases, deep leather armchairs, a library for rainy afternoons, and terraces overlooking the Alazani Valley.
In nearby Telavi, Marani Elizbar 1918 offers a more intimate experience: a six-room boutique property where every detail — from the handwoven rugs to the locally sourced breakfasts — feels personal. Here, evenings might begin with a glass of Kisi or Mtsvane on the patio, as swallows loop overhead and the sun dips behind the Caucasus in the distance.
Days in Kakheti unfold slowly. You might spend the morning at Pheasant’s Tears, a winery and restaurant in Sighnaghi, where each course arrives with a story — about the grape, the soil, the harvest, the family who coaxed it into being. In the afternoon, you stroll through Sighnaghi itself, the “City of Love,” with its pastel façades and cobbled lanes, pausing for views that stretch across the valley to the snow-capped mountains beyond.
The region’s rhythm is as intoxicating as its wines — generous, unhurried, full of toasts and laughter. Every meal feels like a celebration; every glass, a chapter in a story still being written.
The Mountains — Where Silence Becomes the View
From the soft gold of Kakheti’s vineyards, the road north pulls you into a different world altogether. The air sharpens; the hills grow into peaks. You pass through the Georgian Military Highway, winding between cliffs and rivers, until finally the great spine of the Caucasus comes into view.
Stepantsminda — still called Kazbegi by most — is a small town dwarfed by the mountains around it. And here, like a modernist refuge for travelers and dreamers, stands Rooms Hotel Kazbegi.

Its story mirrors the country’s transformation: once a Soviet resort for the political elite, it is now a masterpiece of alpine chic. Vast windows frame Mount Kazbek like a living painting. The scent of cedar and stone fills the air. Chairs are upholstered in earthy wools, coffee tables stacked with art monographs, the bar serving Negronis beside roaring fireplaces.
From here, adventure is only ever a step away. You might hike to Gergeti Trinity Church, perched alone on a hill with the mountains as its eternal guardians. Or simply watch the shifting weather from your terrace — clouds curling over the peaks, a sudden break revealing sunlight like a divine spotlight.
And yet, there’s a stillness here that feels like its own form of indulgence. In the heated pool, you float with the mountains at eye level. In the evenings, you sip Georgian red in the lounge as dusk turns the landscape from silver to indigo.
A Journey in Ten Days
While Georgia can be tasted in a weekend, it’s only in lingering that its true depth emerges. A ten-day arc allows for both movement and stillness — the perfect pace for a country that excels in both.
Days 1–3 — Tbilisi
Arrive, exhale, and immerse yourself in the capital’s layered personality. Stay at Stamba or Rooms Tbilisi, dine at Café Littera and Shavi Lomi, wander the Old Town, and let curiosity guide you.
Days 4–6 — Kakheti
Drive east to Tsinandali or Marani Elizbar 1918. Visit Pheasant’s Tears, explore Sighnaghi, and take private tours of family wineries, where tastings might happen in kitchens or under walnut trees.
Days 7–9 — Kazbegi
Head north into the mountains, base yourself at Rooms Hotel Kazbegi, and spend your days balancing light adventure with long hours of alpine contemplation.
Day 10 — Return to Tbilisi
End as you began — in the city — with a final meal, perhaps a rooftop toast over the river, the city lights reflected in your glass.

The Shape of Memory
Luxury in Georgia is not the gilt-edged excess of some destinations. It is quieter, subtler — a thing of authenticity and design, of landscapes that seem to rearrange your sense of scale, of food and wine served with the kind of warmth that can’t be bought.
By the time you leave, you will carry with you the color of the Kakheti light, the sharp air of the Kazbegi mornings, and the taste of a wine that has been waiting eight millennia to meet you.
And you will know that the true measure of this country is not in what it shows you, but in how it makes you feel — seen, welcomed, and gently, irrevocably changed.
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