It’s official — our Euro Summer has started. After chasing summer throughout Asia, we high-tailed it to Europe, just narrowly escaping before the big bad monsoon season hit. I have never been more thankful to be out of the wet-towel humidity blanket we endured. We started out in Istanbul for 48 hours before heading to Georgia. We had a plan that we needed to make a plan. We were planning to do some planning — but after Istanbul.
Europe, America’s Playground, has many, many benefits and three big cons: cost, competition, and air conditioning. The first two can be easily solved for most vacations with time and by choosing one’s location carefully. While Ryker and I can be choosy about our locations, time in this sense is not something we have. We have settled into an operating rhythm of booking our accommodations, transport, and activities about 48 hours before we need them. This is not possible in Europe — the closer to the date of arrival, the higher the costs, and the more tourists, and therefore higher prices (that Intro to Econ course coming in handy). It turns out when constantly traveling the world, there are no breaks and no time to plan what to do next. That time needs to be carefully carved out into our daily schedule. We knew we needed to dedicate time in Georgia to planning ahead.
Georgia has been on my list for a while now, after my best friend Sofia went in 2018. It also doubles as one of the least expensive, least touristed places in Europe — by this I mean all the tourists are Russian. Ok yes, Georgia is technically on the continent of Asia, and is technically not Europe, or the Middle East, or Asia. It is its own distinct region: the Caucasus. But you get my grouping. It was the perfect place to explore and get some chill time in to plan.
Our second hurdle: air conditioning. AC has become very near and dear to my little American heart. In Asia it was needed to survive, and everyone has it. The $20-a-night hotel? They have AC. It might be tiny and 20 years old, but it cools down the room in 20 minutes flat. Europe, for some godforsaken reason, has a massive stick up its ass about how they are “better” than us Americans and how they “don’t need AC” because this is the natural way their ancestors lived. However, global warming is kicking European ass, and fun fact: more Europeans die each year from heat stroke (175,000 annually) than Americans die from gun violence. That’s right — the Americans and our right to bear arms may cause death in South Chicago, but European snobby stubbornness and superiority complex causes mass death that’s solvable with a technology that’s existed for decades. It doesn’t help that they shut down all their nuclear energy plants and divorced themselves from their ability to generate their own energy, especially shooting themselves in the foot — which they managed to do without guns. Now the great and powerful empires of Europe keep whining about how mean Russia is and how they’re being bullied by Russian oil oligarchs. I don’t feel bad for them at all. Heat stroke is way more preventable than gun death. I mean, America’s right to bear arms is in our Constitution (hard to revoke) and the European right to not adopt new technologies is not enshrined in any governmental document — it’s just a social norm, and a stupid one.
BUT but but but but — this stupid European norm now affects me and my delicate little princess self that needs a cool 64 to 67°F room to promote optimal sleep. My sleep is very important to me. We found out in our first couple of days in Georgia (which is getting lumped into the EU for the AC thing) that people LOVE to lie about having AC. We filter our accommodations and all the Airbnb overlords say they have AC and don’t — or worse, they do have it, but it’s in the living room or bathroom or the freaking porch, not the bedroom. Why, and I mean WHY, would I care about AC in the living room and not the bedroom? What backwards thinking. But that is the great evolved European mind for you.
Anyways, I am very grateful for my life. It’s a privilege to travel around the world with the love of my life and I have no real problems. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, all that. I will stop complaining and limit my jabs and tell you, dear reader, about what we got up to this month.
Istanbul
We went to Istanbul for one reason and one reason only. Ryker found business class tickets from South Korea to Turkey for a reasonable point redemption. We didn’t care where in Europe we ended up post-Korea, and Istanbul was as good a spot as any. I’ll fly wherever if it’s in business class. You could probably ship me off to Iran if you tempted me with first class.
Sadly — it’s true — business class was everything I thought it would be and more. We were treated like humans. Given goodie bags. Treated to multiple multi-course meals. Unlimited access to alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. The flight attendants acted like they were happy we were there and even smiled at us and cracked a few jokes, instead of treating us like annoying slugs taking up space and getting in their way, as is the normal treatment in economy. We actually arrived rested and ready to start the day after 17 hours of flying, instead of sad little shrimp timidly recovering from the horrors of being sardined in. I never want to go back to economy, but I will — I’m not made of money. This experience did give me something to strive for though. A reason to make those cold calls when I get back to work.
Our goal in Istanbul was not to speed-run the city (as we did in Hong Kong) but to get a taste of Turkey and whet our palates for a future trip. Ryker worked his magic and sold his soul to the Amex devil to score us a stay at a Hilton that had opened only four months prior. After getting edged by the front desk woman we settled into our room. (She said she was giving us a free upgrade, showed us the fanciest room, and then said it cost money. We declined, and she kept asking our budget and lowering the price. Also, the whole time we stayed it looked like timeshare presentations were happening in the lobby. They even let a tour group into the sauna while I was in my birthday suit. Having Russians gawk at me was not on my bingo card.)
We wandered the streets. We met many cats and kittens and drank way too much coffee. We toured the Blue Mosque and strolled through the Grand Bazaar. We ate at a Sofia-referred, Anthony Bourdain-recommended restaurant — the lamb kebab plate was divine. We rode the ferry back and forth from the European to the Asian side, just because it was beautiful. We ate manti — tiny ravioli covered in yogurt sauce. We avoided being scammed when buying our transit cards. It was a great time.
I am very happy with the amount of time we dedicated to the city. After visiting, it’s clear to me that a proper Turkey trip needs more research time, dedication, and funds than are currently at my disposal. But now I know I want to go back, which was worthwhile knowledge to acquire.
Georgia Part 1: Wine & More Wine
We arrived in Georgia’s capital Tbilisi in perfect weather: soft sunshine. Say what you will, but first impressions of a place stick, and this one stuck. We left the airport with our noses pressed to the glass of our cab, watching hills roll by and vast stretches of green fade into mountains. The capital itself seems to drip out of the mountainous cliffs that support the southern side. A river splits the city in two — all winding streets and glass bridges.
We had an ideal first day touring the hit list that all cities have of “must see” and “life changing” sites. We marched up to bear witness to the Sameba Cathedral, a massive church overlooking the city from the northern side. A beautiful work of architecture that performs the church-like feat of always looking much more massive on the inside than the outside. We walked across the Bridge of Peace and people-watched. Russians are such a joy to observe — the women are all beautiful, in expensive dresses and high heels, paired with the most average-looking men in too-tight jeans and t-shirts that hug all the wrong places.
We completed our night-one walk at the Clock Tower, which showcases the smallest and largest clocks in Georgia. The draw was not the clocks but the Anthony Bourdain-visited restaurant next door, housed next to a puppet theater. We got our first taste of Georgian wine, Georgian cheese, and lamb ribs. Did you know that you can make wine from raisins, and it’s super sweet?
This wine knowledge was a precursor to our next 48 hours. We stretched our budget and booked a semi-private two-day wine tour in the Kakheti region of Georgia. Our pickup was scheduled for the next morning.
The Wine Tour
Georgia is known to many as the birthplace of wine, having the oldest evidence of winemaking in the world, dating back 8,000 years. Naturally, wine is a big part of Georgian culture, and Kakheti — one of the major wine regions — bubbled up to the top of my list for places to visit.
Wine is also one of the most gatekept industries ever. You’ve got to know somebody to tour a vineyard, or dedicate lots of time to learning about wine and the winemakers of a region, pick from thousands where you want to go, and then somehow contact them to schedule a visit. We chose the easier route: have enough money to pay the person who knows someone, and then you too can be in the know.
We toured with “Eat This!” — a tour company I found via a blog called Wander-Lush. (Side note: this blog was my holy grail for planning Georgia and Armenia.) Our group consisted of us, a retired Australian couple who themselves owned a vineyard, and our tour guide, translator, and driver. We quickly got on very well with our partners in drinking, and like most Australians we’ve met, they were incredibly well traveled, so we had lots to talk about. We drove through a picturesque valley — cows roaming, vast green fields, and snow-topped Caucasus Mountains framing the distance.
We arrived at our first of three wineries and started our journey of learning about wine. Most of my actual learning came from our fellow tourists. Over the next two days they helped me understand tannins (the stuff that gets into wine when it’s made with grape skins on) and why they are more oriented toward an older palate. The difference between white wine and red wine is that red is usually made with the skins on, and the color difference comes from the skins — not from green versus purple grapes. But not in Georgia. In Georgia there is white, amber, and black wine. White is the usual. Amber is made from green grapes but with the skin left on. Black is red. Georgians also uniquely age wine in giant underground clay vessels called qvevri, and they leave the skins on during this process.
Anyways, we also learned there are no alcoholics in Georgia, because everyone is — you know — not crossing that line, but getting real close. Safe to say the wines we tried were poured with a heavy hand. By the time we made it to the third winery we had already been drinking for hours, and not just wine. After the grape skins are used to make the wine, they are separated out and further distilled to make chacha, a hard liqueur closer to 40 to 50% ABV. Our final stop included a Supra — a Georgian feast in a family home — where many toasts are made by the toastmaster, and it’s customary to finish your glass after each toast. None of that cheers-and-one-sip business. I’m talking cheers and chug. Naturally Ryker and I enjoyed much merriment, much to the chagrin of our future selves.
We woke up in the most beautiful place on earth: a modernly renovated shipping container facing the Caucasus Mountains, which were out and about in all their glory on an incredible sunny, clear day. We sat on the porch in hungover silence, waiting to be picked up for another day of drinking.
I have never wanted to drink less in my life, but sometimes you’ve got to suck it up. Turns out Ryker was much better at sucking it up than I was — he even managed a shot of chacha at both lunch and dinner. I didn’t finish a full glass of wine the entire second day, only a sip to taste and another so as not to offend the winemaker. You’d think the Australians would be in a similar boat, but no. Those sneaky bastards had a tolerance like I’d never seen. We even found out they left the Supra and had a beer AND a scotch at the bar. They were thriving. I was doing my best not to order an Uber to the nearest hotel and sleep it off. There really is no pain like the consequences of one’s own actions.
Tbilisi
After our romp in wine country, we chilled out and slowed down. We got an Airbnb for five nights. It turned out to be a massive former Soviet-style apartment — three huge rooms, little to no furniture, a tiny kitchen and bathroom. I had fun. I walked around in my robe and drank kombucha from a wine glass, feeling very classy in the massive empty space.
We explored Tbilisi to the fullest, getting in our 10,000 steps each and every day and exploring a new nook of the city. We hiked up the mountains to the south, walked through the old sulfur bathhouse district, watched beautiful sunsets, and ate some amazing food. Seriously, not a single miss on the food in Tbilisi. Everything we had hit. My favorite was shkmeruli — chicken in a very garlicky cream sauce that paired perfectly with Georgian bread.
The big thing we did was sit on opposite sides of a massive dining table in the middle of a massive room with only one working chair in the whole apartment. We pulled the couch up to the other side and discussed our future plans. We got a rough itinerary for Euro Summer down, got Janine to commit to a date and place to come see us, and created a framework for our plan to re-enter the workforce. All very fascinating and interesting stuff for Ryker and I, and I’m sure very boring to you, dear reader, so you shall be spared the details.
Armenia
Being in the area and all, we decided to make a quick five-day jaunt down to Armenia. Given the proximity of the countries, we decided to try something new: a land crossing. We hired a driver for the four-hour drive and programmed in about four stops at famous bluffs and monasteries.
Our first stop was the border. Which, unlike the USA/Canada crossing, is actually two different borders. We first exited Georgia — getting out of the car, standing in line, answering questions — then got back in the car and drove 500 feet. Got back out of the car and entered Armenia, where we were asked about our relationship to Azerbaijan. We have never been, and now cannot go until we get new passports. Neighbors Armenia and Azerbaijan hate each other and are at war over disputed territory. The tea is that both are former Soviet states, and rumor has it the beef was instigated by the Soviets — with Russia now fanning the flames.
The rest of our journey was beautiful and uneventful. We saw some really old churches, some beautiful scenery, and laid eyes on the majestic Lake Sevan.
We settled into Yerevan for four glorious days of doing very little. We got our 10,000 steps in each day. Ate at the same restaurant — which was amazing — and tried everything on their menu. Had coffee at the same coffee shop every morning and spent the time journaling, writing postcards, and planning for the summer to come. We are speeding up from a country every three-ish weeks to a new country every week. We have already changed our minds twice on where to go.
Yerevan was lovely to walk around. Ryker’s favorite thing was the water fountains called Pulpulaks that are on almost every corner, pulling up fresh, cold spring water that’s delicious. We were very well hydrated. Our Airbnb host was also so kind and brought us some fresh BBQ, which we ate in the dark like gremlins while watching Modern Family.
On our final day we took an eventful taxi ride that involved negotiating, bartering, two phone calls, and re-checking addresses multiple times — but we arrived at a horse ranch ready for our afternoon ride. We had done this type of thing once before in Arizona. There was no horse-riding skill involved, just jump on and the horses know the way. That was our expectation. So we prepared appropriately by splitting a bottle of wine. Little did we know this was a full-on equestrian lesson. Whip in hand, we learned how to trot and steer the horse before being taken on an hour-long ride through the countryside. I think we did a rather good job given the circumstances.
Georgia Part 2: Cheating on Ocha with a New (to Us) RAV4
Fun fact: if you go to Georgia and ask the internet whether you should rent a car, you will get a resounding answer of “hell no.” Apparently the roads are bad, the drivers are crazy, and Google Maps is unreliable. I file this advice into the general complaining that everyone has about literally every place. Did you know that every city has the “worst drivers,” the “worst traffic,” and also the “best food” and is the most “gastronomical city in X country”? Brother, if I have to hear that one more time. Can we all just agree that humans in general are bad drivers — I can even hold your hand when I tell you AI will be and already is better — and that all cities generally have pretty good food? So with all our travel wisdom, we still rented a car. And… it was totally normal. A couple of cows here and there, Google Maps worked mostly, and drivers behaved better than average in our opinion. We would HIGHLY recommend renting a car in Georgia. I have a conspiracy theory that all the fear-mongering online about Georgian driving is actually peddled by the taxi drivers of Georgia.
We landed back in Tbilisi ready for our road trip. We had booked a car and expected to pick it up at the airport. Sadly, the man running the car rental forgot about us, so we sat like sad, forgotten children in the terminal while he sent a taxi to bring us to the car.
We rented a 2016 RAV4 to give us a taste of home — we had been missing our 2024 RAV4 that is currently being babysat by my father. Let me tell you, we had not touched a steering wheel in six months and it felt oh-so-good to be mobile. The world was at our fingertips. We could go anywhere. So naturally we went to the birthplace of Stalin: Gori. Fun fact: Stalin — the Joseph Stalin, mass murderer, socialist, communist, and leader of the Soviet Union — was Georgian. Legend has it that he kept his Georgian accent when speaking Russian because he felt it made him more intimidating. He also read over 20,000 books in his lifetime. We know he actually read them because he annotated each one, and those are only the ones we know about. Assuming he started reading at age six, that’s 294 books a year — five a week. Puts me to shame with my measly one book a week.
After visiting Gori and gaining access to the AUX, naturally we wanted to learn more about Georgian history and started listening to a podcast called Real Dictators. We started with Stalin, but also got through Mao and Lenin during our eight days in the car. There is so much to learn, and it’s wild learning about history in the places where it actually happened. It’s also wild that all the big communist leaders lived at the same time — it’s like a mind virus or something.
We drove the length of the country over four days and landed in a tiny cabin on the shores of the Black Sea, where we swam for another four days before heading off to our next destination.
