Kakheti & David Gareja: Private Wine Tour with Lunch & Rainbow Mountains

4.98

(147 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

“Try this one — it’s stronger than it looks,” our guide Nino grinned, holding up a tiny glass of chacha at the Manavi store. I’d barely finished my first bite of churchkhela (that chewy grape candy) and already felt like I was being welcomed into someone’s family kitchen. The morning air outside smelled faintly sweet from the bakery next door, and I could hear a rooster somewhere behind the shop. We’d left Tbilisi just after nine, still half awake, but the drive toward Kakheti shook that off pretty quick — hills rolling by, sunlight flickering through the windows.

I didn’t expect to care so much about bread until we stopped in Badiauri. The woman at the bakery pulled hot shoti straight from the clay oven with her bare hands — honestly, I flinched just watching. She tore it open and steam hit my face; we ate it with salty cheese right there on the curb. It’s such a simple thing but I swear I still think about that taste. Afterward, we drove out past Bodbe Convent — Nino told us stories about Saint Nino (I kept mixing up their names), and we walked through gardens that smelled like wild herbs and wet stone. The view over Alazani valley was wide and green and just... quiet.

Sighnaghi looked almost painted, all those pastel houses stacked on the hill with 23 old towers poking up along the wall. People call it “the city of love” — not sure if that’s for couples or just because everyone seems to linger there longer than they mean to. We wandered through narrow streets while an old man sold walnuts from a bucket, then headed out again toward David Gareja Monastery. That place is something else: carved right into rainbow-striped rock, silent except for wind and maybe a bird or two. Walking up there in the late afternoon sun made me feel small in a good way.

The last stop was an organic wine cellar where we tried five different wines (plus more chacha — dangerous). Dinner was heavy and loud: barbecue sizzling, clinking glasses, someone playing music on their phone in the corner. Nino kept translating jokes between us and the winemaker; sometimes she gave up and just laughed instead. We got back to Tbilisi late and tired but kind of wired too — you know when your head is full but your stomach is even fuller? Still can’t decide if my favorite part was that first bite of bread or watching sunset colors spill over those strange mountains.