Kakheti: Family Wineries, Village Lunch & Sighnaghi Day Trip

5.00

(146 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

We left Tbilisi behind just after breakfast — I remember the way the city’s sulfur baths faded in the rearview mirror as our driver (Giorgi, who has this easy laugh) pointed out which hills meant we’d crossed into Kakheti. The road wound through sleepy villages and endless vines; I could smell wet earth from last night’s rain. Our first stop was Manavi fortress, perched above the valley. Giorgi told us stories about Georgian wine history — honestly, I only caught half because I was distracted by that view: green patchwork fields and mountains that look like they belong in a painting. Not sure if it was the altitude or just excitement, but my stomach did a little flip.

After that came my favorite bit: a small family winery where we met Irakli, the winemaker. He handed me a glass of amber wine before we even finished introductions. We followed him into his cellar — cool air, clay qvevri half-buried in the floor. He explained how his grandfather taught him everything (I tried to say “thank you” in Georgian; everyone laughed). The wine tasting felt different here — less formal, more like being welcomed into someone’s living room. And then chacha — wow. It burned but in a good way. There were homemade cheeses and bread too; warm from the oven and gone in seconds.

Later on we wandered Sighnaghi’s cobbled streets under soft sunlight — couples taking selfies on balconies, old women selling churchkhela at their doors. The city walls are high enough to make your knees wobble if you look down (I did). After that came lunch at a family home: plates kept arriving until I lost count — stews, salads with tarragon, more wine poured by our host’s teenage son who seemed proud but shy about it all. There was something about eating with strangers who felt like friends after an hour or two; maybe it was just the homemade food or maybe Georgia does that to you.

Bodbe Convent was quiet when we arrived — cypress trees moving slightly in the wind and a kind of hush over everything. Giorgi said people come here for peace or prayers or both. I’m not religious but standing there looking out over Alazani Valley, I got why people lingered longer than planned. On the drive back to Tbilisi I realized my clothes smelled faintly of bread and smoke from lunch. Still think about that view from Manavi sometimes… you know?