
Day one and Tbilisi already smells like qvevri-aged dreams. We weave past the ancient sulfur baths, then roll east toward sun-drenched Kakheti: 612 km of vineyard-laced roads and village toasts ahead.
First stop, Khashmi. The morning air tastes of newly pressed Rkatsiteli, and a cellar master thumps his chest as he pours the amber wine straight from clay. Manavi greets us with green hills and a tangy Mtsvane that snaps awake the palate. By sunset the cobbled lanes of Sighnaghi glow rose-gold; we clink glasses of local champagne above the Alazani Valley until church bells drown our laughter.
Day three, Vazisubani. An old-school distiller fires his copper still, sliding crystal streams of brandy into oak barrels. One sip—warm vanilla, roasted figs—and the group cheers “Gaumarjos!” louder than the roosters outside. Akhalsopeli answers with a feast: khachapuri oozing cheese, herbs picked moments ago, and Kindzmarauli so velvety it feels like standing under summer rain.
Kvareli’s vast tunnel cellar awaits on day five. We wander 7 km of candlelit limestone, tasting vintage after vintage while ancient jazz echoes off the walls. Last village, Shilda: a family presses Saperavi by foot, music blasting, kids dancing between the vines. They hand us dusty bottles labeled only with a year and a smile; we sign the corks and promise to return.
Back in Tbilisi on day six, our suitcases rattle with clinking souvenirs and our hearts beat in Kakhetian tempo. Six sun-soaked days, countless toasts, and the sure knowledge that Georgia’s greatest treasure ages quietly beneath its clay and stone.
Pack an open mind and leave room for bottles—your wine adventure begins now.