1. The Qvevri Wine Immersion: Tasting History in a Glass

Okay, so first things first, you can’t talk about this region without talking about wine. But this is sort of a whole other level. I walked into a family’s marani, which is basically their wine cellar, and the air was just different. It was cool and smelled of damp earth and something sweet and fermenting. The owner, an older gentleman with really kind eyes, pointed to these huge clay pots sunk into the ground. Those are qvevri, and apparently, they’ve been making wine this way for literally 8,000 years. He explained that everything goes in—the grapes, skins, stems—and then nature just does its thing. It’s a pretty wild process, to be honest.

You know, he told me, “We don’t make the wine. We just watch it make itself.” And that really stuck with me.

Then came the tasting. This amber-colored wine, you see, is completely unlike anything I’d had before. It has a structure and a body that’s very complex. It’s slightly tannic from the skins, with notes of dried apricot, walnuts, and a little bit of honey. Each sip sort of tells a story of the soil and the sun of that year. I was just sitting there, swirling this glass of living history. It’s an experience that’s arguably more about connection than just about drinking. At the end of the day, you really feel you’re tasting something ancient and real.

2. The Village Culinary Walk: More Than Just Khachapuri

Everyone knows about Georgian food, like khachapuri and khinkali, right? But going on a culinary walk through Velistsikhe showed me so much more. One of my favorite stops was a tiny local bakery where a woman was making shoti bread. It’s this long, canoe-shaped bread that’s slapped onto the side of a massive, round clay oven called a tone. You can literally feel the wave of heat when she opens it. The smell of the baking bread was absolutely everywhere, and frankly, I could have just stood there all day. She let me try to slap the dough onto the wall, and I mean, it’s a lot harder than it looks. Mine pretty much just fell into the fire.

Later, we sat down with a family to make churchkhela. These are those things that look like candles, made of walnuts threaded onto a string and dipped over and over in thickened grape juice. It’s kind of a slow and very deliberate process. We sat around a big table, stringing nuts and dipping them, while the grandmother told stories. The whole thing was just so communal and warm. You realize that, for them, food is basically the center of everything. It’s about bringing people together and sharing what you have, which is a pretty beautiful way to live, I think.

3. Echoes of the Past: A Walk Among Velistsikhe’s Historic Stones

Velistsikhe is, as a matter of fact, one of the older settlements in the area. Walking through it, you can feel the layers of time. The main church, the Church of the All-Holy Mother of God, is just stunning in its simplicity. It’s a basilica from the 9th century, built from these really weathered, almost gray cobblestones. Inside, it’s just so quiet and still. You can see remnants of old frescoes on the walls, faint but still there. There’s a particular feeling you get in a place that has been a center of faith for over a thousand years; it’s just very powerful.

There are also pieces of old defensive walls around the village. It’s sort of a quiet reminder that this beautiful, peaceful place had to defend itself for centuries. It’s that strength, you know, that really defines the character of the people here. It’s not a museum, though. People still live in these old houses with their wooden balconies and grapevines crawling up the walls. The history here is a living thing, something you see and feel with every step you take. It kind of gives you a different perspective on things, to be honest.

4. The Art of the Georgian Feast: A True Supra Experience

I was lucky enough to be invited to a supra, a traditional Georgian feast, and seriously, it’s an event. It is so much more than just a big dinner. Our host chose a tamada, or a toastmaster, who is basically the leader of the entire evening. He was an amazing storyteller, and with each glass of wine, he would propose a toast. But these aren’t just simple “cheers.” They are almost like little speeches, you know? Toasts to peace, to the guests, to the ancestors, to the children. And after each toast, everyone sings these beautiful, polyphonic songs. The harmonies were just incredible and gave me goosebumps.

And the food, oh my gosh, the food. The table was literally groaning under the weight of it all. Plates upon plates of salads with walnut dressing, grilled meats, cheeses, and of course, endless bread and wine. What I really loved, though, was the feeling of warmth and inclusion. As a guest, you are treated with so much honor and generosity. By the end of the night, you honestly feel like you’ve known these people your whole life. It’s pretty much the best expression of Georgian hospitality you could ever imagine.

5. Hands of the Village: The Artisans and Craftspeople Trail

Away from the food and wine, there’s this whole other side to Velistsikhe’s culture that is just so fascinating. I sought out a few local artisans to see what they do. I found a man in a small, dusty workshop who was carving wood. He was making these special drinking vessels and small decorative items, all by hand. Watching him work was kind of mesmerizing. His movements were so practiced and sure, and he clearly took so much pride in what he was creating. He didn’t speak much English, but he really didn’t have to. You could just see the tradition in his hands.

I also met a woman who was weaving textiles on an old loom. The patterns were really intricate, with deep, rich colors. She showed me how the different designs represented different regions or families. It’s sort of a hidden language that is passed down from mother to daughter. This part of the experience was a bit quieter, more introspective, I suppose. It just shows you that culture isn’t always a big celebration. Sometimes, it’s in the quiet, focused work of a single person carrying on a legacy. At the end of the day, that’s just as powerful.