Yerevan to Tbilisi: An Epic Journey, Wild Adventures, and the Magic of Georgia” 🚀
“The best journeys are the ones that challenge you, surprise you, and leave you with stories you’ll be telling for a lifetime.” 🚀✨
For the longest time, Armenia was just a mysterious dot on the map for me — kind of like that one distant cousin you always hear about but never actually meet. But that all changed after UFC 311. I had bets on both Merab Dvalishvili and Arman Tsarukyan, and when Merab won, I figured, why not celebrate by visiting his country? Then I realized Armenia — Arman’s homeland — was right next door. Perfect. Two birds, one stone.
Even though Arman had to pull out of his last fight, he’s still one of my favorite fighters (alongside Merab, of course), so with some of my winnings, I thought — what better way to pay tribute than by seeing where he grew up? And honestly, this trip? Pure magic. Snowboarding in the mountains, crossing snowy borders like I was on a real-life Skyrim quest, and somehow ending up in one of Europe’s most famous clubs — it had everything.
If Tbilisi has been on your radar, you’ve got excellent taste. And today, I’ve got all the tips to help you experience it like a pro. Let’s dive in!
History of Georgia
Nestled in the heart of the Caucasus, Georgia is a country where history, culture, and geography intertwine in fascinating ways. Bordered by Armenia, Azerbaijan, Turkey, and Russia, it has long been a crossroads between Europe and Asia, shaping a unique identity that blends influences from both worlds. While the majority of Georgians follow Orthodox Christianity, the presence of Catholic, Muslim, and Jewish communities adds to the country’s rich religious tapestry.
This was one of the first things that struck me upon arriving in Georgia. Coming from Yerevan, Armenia, and having visited Azerbaijan, I was fascinated by how openly diverse Tbilisi felt — especially when it came to religious expression and gender representation. Compared to the rest of the region, Georgia had a different kind of energy, one that felt both deeply traditional and refreshingly modern.
Georgia’s history is as dramatic as its mountainous landscapes. From the ancient kingdom of Colchis — yes, the legendary land where Jason sought the Golden Fleece — to the medieval Georgian Kingdom under the iconic Queen Tamar, the country has witnessed waves of conquest and resilience. Persian invasions, Mongol raids, Ottoman expansion, Russian rule — Georgia has faced them all while fiercely preserving its language, traditions, and national identity.
Religion and Cultural Identity
As one of the world’s oldest Christian nations, Georgia adopted Christianity in 337 AD, just a few decades after Armenia. The Georgian Orthodox Church remains deeply woven into the fabric of national identity, with breathtaking monasteries like Jvari and Gelati standing as testaments to this enduring faith. Yet, Georgia is also a land of coexistence. Walking through Tbilisi, you’ll find synagogues, mosques, and Catholic churches standing alongside Orthodox cathedrals — an incredible reflection of the country’s layered history.
Fast forward to today, and Tbilisi is where the past and present waltz together in perfect rhythm. The Old Town, with its labyrinth of cobblestone streets, carved wooden balconies, and centuries-old churches, feels like something out of a medieval fairytale. But venture deeper into the city, and you’ll find a thriving contemporary scene — electric nightlife, world-class dining, and clubs like Bassiani, which has cemented Tbilisi’s reputation as one of Europe’s top destinations for electronic music.
Georgia is a country that surprises you at every turn, where ancient traditions meet modern innovation, and where history isn’t just something to be remembered — it’s something that still breathes in the streets, the mountains, and the people.
The food? Unreal. Think freshly baked khachapuri (cheese-filled bread that will ruin all other bread for you), juicy khinkali (dumplings that are basically a sport to eat), and legendary Georgian wine — because this is the birthplace of winemaking, dating back over 8,000 years.
How Did We Get There?
This was, without a doubt, the most chaotic, nerve-wracking, and downright ridiculous part of our trip. Leaving Yerevan, my friends and I were buzzing with excitement about escaping the city before the weekend — blissfully unaware that Mother Nature had other plans. What we did not anticipate was a full-blown blizzard swallowing the entire road to Georgia, with snow so deep it looked like something out of an apocalyptic survival movie.
Still, the guy at our hostel, who was clearly way too optimistic for his own good, insisted we head to the bus station and “find a ride.” We should’ve known we were in for trouble when we arrived, only to find the main station completely shut down. Instead, we were shuffled off to a tiny, sketchy-looking waiting room behind the terminal, which, in hindsight, felt more like the setup to a crime documentary than the start of an international journey.
As we hesitated at the door, I glanced at my two friends — one from Italy, the other from Lebanon — and their expressions mirrored my own: this had “bad idea” written all over it. When it was my turn to go inside, I stepped into a cramped room where at least 20 older Armenian men sat in silence, staring me down. The atmosphere? Uncomfortably intense. One of them motioned for me to come forward and pay. They didn’t exactly seem thrilled to be there, but honestly? If I had to work in these conditions, I wouldn’t be friendly either. What I didn’t realize at the time was just how true those words would be — because, my God, this journey was about to be a disaster.
The Bus Ride From Hell
The shuttle was jam-packed. My friends and I were crammed in the back, ahead of us sat a group of Ukrainian women, and in the front seat was a young Serbian girl next to the driver. Now, at first glance, the driver seemed calm, collected, and totally in control. That illusion lasted exactly until we hit the mountain pass.
As soon as we reached the Armenia-Georgia border, the road turned into a death trap. Thick snow, steep inclines, and an ungodly amount of ice. Every turn had the shuttle skidding, sliding, and threatening to tip over. We were terrified — clutching our seats, white-knuckled, exchanging panicked glances. The only thing more unnerving than the road itself? The driver’s absolute refusal to acknowledge our collective fear.
No reassurance. No music. Not even a half-hearted “We’ll be fine, guys.” Nothing. The only way we knew he was just as scared as we were? His reflection in the rearview mirror. And let me tell you — his face? Pure, unfiltered terror. At one point, the shuttle got completely stuck in the snow, and I swear, if there weren’t women in the van, he 100% would’ve made us get out and push.
After what felt like an eternity — and an unnecessarily long border crossing — we finally made it into Georgia. And let me tell you… every second of suffering was worth it.
Never in my life have I arrived in a city that looked this breathtaking at first glance. Snow-covered rooftops, warm golden lights glowing against the winter air, and an energy that felt immediately electric. We were exhausted, freezing, and slightly traumatized, but the moment we stepped out of that van, one thought crossed my mind:
Damn. We made it. And this place is going to be incredible.
What Did We Do?
While in Georgia, we stayed at Mmoosica Hostel — a small, cozy, and ridiculously affordable spot right in the heart of the city. From the moment we walked in, we were greeted with warm smiles, loud laughter, and the kind of hugs that make you feel like you’ve just reunited with long-lost family. It didn’t take long to realize that this place wasn’t just a hostel — it was a home.
The first thing that stood out to me? The sheer number of young Russians staying there. And you know what I came to realize? A lot of them had left Russia because they disagreed with the war. Many had family members caught up in it, and hearing their perspectives — their frustrations, their fears, their hopes — was eye-opening in a way I never expected. Conversations over cheap wine and late-night beers turned into something deeper. Over the next week, these strangers became my closest friends — the kind of people you laugh with, debate with, and somehow miss the second they step out of the room.
Every day, we roamed the streets of Tbilisi, drinking wine, trying incredible food, and stumbling upon hidden gems. And every night, we returned to the hostel to more laughter, more hugs, and the unmistakable feeling of being missed. If you’re ever in Georgia, Mmoosica Hostel is a must.
