In three years I've run more than 500 tours and watched the same mistakes play out again and again. Not because tourists are careless — but because nobody warns them. Here are the 10 things that genuinely damage a trip to Tbilisi, and exactly how to sidestep each one.
Tbilisi is one of those rare cities where you can do almost everything wrong and still have a good time. But do it right — and it becomes a trip you're still telling people about a year later.
Shardeni is a beautiful street. A great spot for an evening stroll, a photo, or a glass of wine on an open terrace. A terrible place to discover Georgian food. Prices here run 2–3 times higher than non-tourist venues, portions are smaller, and the kitchen knows you'll come once and leave. There's no incentive to try harder.
I've watched visitors pay 25 GEL for khinkali that cost 8 GEL two blocks away. Then say: "Khinkali? Yeah, it's alright." No. Khinkali is extraordinary. They just had it in the wrong place.
What to do instead: Head to Machakhela (a local chain, fair prices, consistent quality) or Racha on Lermontov Street — a neighbourhood dumpling house with zero tourist markup. The districts of Chugureti and Avlabari are where locals actually eat lunch. That's where you'll find the best Georgian food in the city.
More details in our guide: Best restaurants in Tbilisi 2026.
Mount Kazbek is visible roughly 50% of days — even in summer. Clouds roll in and cover the peak, and you've just driven 3 hours each way for a wall of grey fog. Not a disaster, but a disappointment that's completely avoidable.
The classic scenario: a group leaves Tbilisi at 9 AM without checking conditions. They arrive to find the mountain completely hidden. Photos with clouds, a bowl of khinkali, turn around. "Kazbegi was kind of underwhelming." No — Kazbegi is breathtaking. Just not that day.
What to do instead: The evening before, check meteo.ge — Georgia's official weather service. Search Google for "webcam Stepantsminda" and look at live cameras showing actual conditions right now. If cloud cover is above 80%, move your trip by a day.
The currency exchange desk at Tbilisi International Airport is the first trap waiting for fresh arrivals. The rate is 10–15% below the market rate. On €200 you lose €20–30 the moment you land. Not a great start to a holiday.
I'm not exaggerating — I once calculated this with a group right in the terminal: they would have received 22 GEL more had they waited 30 minutes and exchanged in the city centre.
What to do instead: Change a small amount at the airport (enough for a taxi and a coffee — around €15–20). Exchange the rest in the city. The best rates are at currency offices in the Didube district (near the bus station) and around Freedom Square in the centre. A Bank of Georgia or TBC Bank ATM with a zero-commission card is also a solid option.
Dezerter Bazaar is not a supermarket. It's a bazaar in the original sense — vendors name an opening price with room to negotiate, and they're expecting a counter-offer. If you pay the first price in silence, they accept it. But they're a little surprised, and a little disappointed.
The same applies to street taxis. Not Bolt or Yandex Go — those have metered prices. But the men standing outside hotels and tourist sites offering rides: they have no meter, just an instinct for what a tourist will pay.
What to do instead: At Dezerter Bazaar, start at 60–70% of the asking price — perfectly normal, nobody takes offence. With street taxis, agree on a price before you get in, and negotiate. The easiest solution: use Bolt or Yandex Go — fixed prices, no surprises. For short central journeys: 3–7 GEL.
"Timur warned us about every one of these traps right at the start of the tour — the Shardeni restaurants, the airport exchange, the weather thing with Kazbegi. We saved so much stress and money that the tour paid for itself on the first day. Especially grateful for the list of places where locals actually eat."
Tbilisi is a great city. But Georgia is not just Tbilisi. People arrive for a week, spend seven days in the capital, and fly home. Then they find out that Kakheti's vineyards were two hours away, Kazbegi's mountains three hours, the ancient capital Mtskheta just 20 minutes. A mild sense of horror sets in.
One day out of the city is an entirely different Georgia. Not better or worse — just a completely different world.
What to do instead: If you have 4 or more days, set aside at least one or two for day trips. Kazbegi — mountains and a medieval church above the clouds. Kakheti — vineyards, a family wine tasting in a real marani, Bodbe Monastery. Mtskheta — 20 minutes from the city, 15 centuries of history.
Many visitors to Tbilisi buy bottled water throughout their entire stay — based on the assumption that tap water in Georgia is unsafe. In Tbilisi, that's a myth. The tap water in the capital is safe, and plenty of locals drink it daily without any problems.
This isn't a call to take risks with your health — it's just a fact: in central Tbilisi districts the water is fine. Spending money on plastic bottles for the whole trip is unnecessary.
What to do instead: In Tbilisi — tap water is safe, especially in good hotels. In the regions (Kazbegi, villages, smaller towns) — stick to bottled or filtered water. If you have a sensitive stomach, play it safe for the first couple of days and then reassess.
Georgians are wonderfully photogenic. Elderly men in cafes, market vendors, priests at churches — it all begs to be captured. And many tourists just shoot without asking. That's a breach of etiquette that gets noticed and remembered here.
The situation is especially sensitive inside Orthodox churches and at monasteries. Photography is often restricted there, and the congregants take their religion seriously.
What to do instead: Simply ask. You don't need Georgian — just hold up your phone with a questioning look. Nine times out of ten you'll not only get a yes, but the person will pose enthusiastically. Georgians genuinely like being noticed. At churches, check with a priest or church attendant before shooting.
Georgia is a deeply Orthodox country with a living, breathing religion — not a museum version. Monasteries and churches are active: services happen there, monks live there. Tourists in shorts and sleeveless tops aren't cut slack for being tourists. It's disrespect, and it's noticed.
The most visited sites — Svetitskhoveli in Mtskheta, Gergeti Trinity Church in Kazbegi, Alaverdi in Kakheti — all have rules worth following.
What to do instead:
- Women — headscarf, shoulders covered, skirt or trousers below the knee
- Men — long trousers (no shorts), shoulders preferably covered
- Many monasteries provide free wraps and headscarves at the entrance for visitors
- Phone on silent, no loud conversation inside
This isn't a strict European museum dress code — it's just basic respect for the place.
A tour bus with a flag and 40 passengers is a particular kind of travel experience. Not a bad one — just a very specific one. The guide speaks into a microphone, the crowd moves to a schedule, photos happen at designated spots, questions wait for the break. You see Georgia from the outside.
A private tour is different. The route adjusts to you. You can stop at a random village. Ask anything. Talk to locals because your guide translates. Step into that bakery with the smell of fresh shoti that the bus drove past without stopping.
Comparison:
- Group tour (40 people): €15–25 per person, fixed schedule, one guide for everyone
- Private tour (2–7 people): €45–70 per person, flexible route, guide is entirely yours
The per-person price is often comparable — especially if there are two or three of you. But the experience isn't close. All my tours are groups of seven or fewer. See tours →
Georgia is the birthplace of wine — literally. 8,000 years of winemaking, and the qvevri method (fermentation in clay vessels buried underground) exists nowhere else in the world at this scale. Amber wine — what the rest of the world now calls "orange wine" — is a Georgian invention. And most visitors fly home having drunk nothing beyond a bottle of Kindzmarauli from a supermarket.
Qvevri wine is something else entirely. It's tannic, alive, sometimes with sediment, sometimes with an aroma that surprises on the first sip. But it's what makes Georgian wine unique. Going to Tbilisi and skipping qvevri wine is like going to Naples and ordering a frozen pizza.
Where to try it in Tbilisi:
- Wine Underground (15 Tabukashvili St) — natural wines from small Georgian producers, cellar atmosphere, 8–15 GEL per glass
- g.Vino (1 Bambi St) — more contemporary format, good food, excellent natural wine list
- In Kakheti — the best way to try qvevri wine is straight from the marani (family wine cellar). Our Kakheti tour includes a proper tasting.