Georgia teaches one important lesson—everything is relative. This was especially true during the last weekend of August. Following the trend of getting out of Tbilisi, we decided to book a hotel in the remote village of Napareuli (about 20 km from Telavi). On Saturday morning, we planned to take a marshrutka to Telavi and then a taxi from there.
First things first—I found out that marshrutkas to Telavi leave from Samgori. We took a taxi to the station, but the driver insisted we needed to go to Isani instead.
At Isani, there were no marshrutkas going to Telavi. After advising the taxi driver not to be a smart-ass, we finally drove to Samgori.
Unfortunately, we missed the 11:00 marshrutka and had to wait another 45 minutes. No way were we going to do that. Instead, we quickly found another marshrutka going to Sighnaghi.
My Georgian geography is above average, but not quite good enough to realize that Sighnaghi was not where we needed to go.
Still, we headed to Sighnaghi, as the driver assured us there would definitely be another marshrutka from there to Telavi. So wrong. Never trust Georgian drivers—I confirmed that twice that day.
Sighnaghi Town Square
Sighnaghi was eerily empty. It was already 1:00 PM when we arrived, yet there were hardly any people on the streets.
Tower in Sighnaghi
View from Sighnaghi tower
While some might see Sighnaghi as a charming provincial town, to me, it felt like part of Georgia’s "façade democracy." The town underwent a complete reconstruction, giving it a picturesque, postcard-perfect look. If you only focus on the rooftops, you might think—what a wonderful city. You might even assume people live happily and prosperously there. Wrong! I do believe every Georgian is naturally happy, but when it comes to wealth, that’s a different story.
Inside the Tower
What looks lovely from a distance might not be so appealing up close. In the picture above, you see the same tower—but from the inside, it looks more like a dog shelter.
Speaking of dogs, the animals in Sighnaghi seemed very friendly. We met many of them, and they happily accompanied us throughout our trip. They weren’t afraid of people, which made me think that locals in Sighnaghi must really love animals.
After taking a few city shots, we headed straight to a restaurant for supper. We found a place called Nikala.
Nikala Restaurant Sighnaghi
The restaurant was completely empty, and the hostess was eager to find out where we were from. When I answered "Tbilisi," she seemed unsatisfied, even though I spoke to her in a mix of 50% Georgian and 50% English. After we ordered dolma, I asked her whether it was traditional Georgian dolma or Armenian tolma. She took pity on me and said, "It’s Georgian traditional dolma." Then she asked, "Are you Armenian?" I replied, "Do I look Armenian?" She said, "I don’t know—maybe!" I smiled and said, "Then I’m Armenian."
Georgian Traditional Dolma
We also ordered pork barbecue, some salads, coffee, and lemonade. The hostess was so eager to figure out where I was originally from that she continued speaking to me in Georgian. Fortunately, I can speak Restaurant Georgian quite well, so I understood her without trouble.
Our total bill was 27 GEL. I must admit, the food at Nikala was excellent.
We made a few weak attempts to negotiate a taxi to Napareuli, but none of the drivers would agree to take us for 40 GEL. They all asked for 70 GEL or more.
OK, screw you, Napareuli. We decided to stay in Sighnaghi. Soon, a lady approached us and, after a few polite exchanges, offered us an apartment for 10 GEL. I told her, "We are interested, but definitely not for such a low price." I mean, what can you get for 10 GEL? A place to pitch a tent?
She then offered a room for 30 GEL with Wi-Fi and TV, which sounded tempting, so we agreed to take a look. Damn. The same Soviet-style beds, and the shower was outside. No way—I avoid such places. I may not be wealthy, but I have my standards, and having a shower inside my apartment is one of them.
A few meters away, we found a hotel/restaurant and asked if they had rooms. They offered one for 30 GEL, but it had no windows and no air circulation. No, NO, No. This wasn’t a hotel—it was a homeless shelter.
Eventually, they showed us another room for 50 GEL with a shower inside. Although it still had no windows, it had garage doors. (Yeah, as I later realized, we were staying in a garage.)
Our "hotel’s" garage doors
Despite all that, we made the best of our time in Sighnaghi, enjoying the food, exploring the town, and ending the night with a Turkish coffee on the sidewalk next to our "hotel."
Next morning, we headed back to Tbilisi.
So, in brief, that was my one-day travel guide to Sighnaghi. I’ll say this—Sighnaghi is a lovely town, but there isn’t much to do there except eat a lot of delicious Kakhetian food.