It’s time to move on to a country where alcohol is not such a part of everyday culture as it is in Georgia. In my homestay in Kutaissi, I pour wine into myself from drinking horns, our arms intertwined and then smacks on the cheek. Friendship forever and all that, a toast to world peace…. I suspect that almost every evening here turns into such a binge.
In Batumi, we just wanted breakfast and sat down in a chic Art Nouveau pavilion in the middle of the green main square. Inside, some men who looked like sailors or proletarians were having a beer. Even before our coffee arrived, two steins of beer handed out by the neighbouring table were in front of us. Good morning….