The old man’s face, rosy with the glow of alcoholism broke into a big smile as he saluted in greeting, then clasped his hands in a prayer like display of welcome and promptly dragged me into the cellar. Immediately a traditional drinking horn of wine was thrust into my hands, his stream of speech easily outpacing my mental dictionary of a dozen words in Georgian, but I grasped enough to say, “English” back to him. Effusive but unintelligible praise of unknown English things follow, along with another horn of wine which must be downed in seconds to keep up with his years of undoubted dedication to piss artistry. I was then hurriedly whisked off to the back room where two plastic barrels, each big enough to drown a fat teenager in, had their lids whipped off with a flourish to reveal, surprise surprise, wine up to the brim. As one contained a sweeter red that we had not yet tasted, another horn’s load was dutifully required. By this time my nationality had obviously slipped through both his remaining brain cells and he was heaping copious praise on Italy. Somehow I managed to extricate myself without causing offence and wobble out into the sunshine.
Mediko Gvetadze in her kitchen in Kutaisi – the epitome of Georgian hospitality
So began my introduction to the concept of the homestay in Georgia, a sort of informal Bed and Breakfast arrangement. Beds are crammed into a bedroom or two in a dorm like fashion and Mediko, the lady of the house heaps never-ending piles of delicious home-made food in front of you at breakfast and dinner time, with as much wine as you can possibly pour down your throat. All this for the outrageous sum of twelve english pounds – no more than $18. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any more generous, out came the home distilled chacha, a grape based spirit often exceeding 60% alcohol when it’s not purchased from more reputable vendors.
I slept well the first night.
Mediko puts many hours in each day to keep her guests happy and ate with us, happy to entertain, inform and demonstrate why I will never master pronunciation of her language, where English transliteration will never do justice to it’s selection of clucks, clicks and throat manglings. It would be wrong to describe her and her husband Suliko, the sozzled pensioner in the cellar, as a team, since his passionate commitment to the task of wine tasting precludes much other activity and by the evening the handful of cellar stairs are an Alpine obstruction to his movement. The most eloquent testimony to the man came from a japanese visitor’s remarks in the guest book:
“You are a very problem man!
but very very lovely man!
No more drink! Little little”
On the following page read a guest’s simple epitaph, “my memory”, followed only by a drawing of a drinking horn.
Haha! Wow, you had me at “the glow of alcoholism”! Hilarious post and sounds like a great trip so far.
Thanks Roy. I am working my way through the Georgian beer selection (there’s quite a lot of it) and will send you a round up of the region’s booze at the end of Oct, once I have sampled Azerbaijan and Armenia’s offerings. Off to Azerbaijan tomorrow but imagine being muslim the alcohol range will be rather narrower than Georgias.
Nice. Keep me posted, as I can honestly say I know nothing about Georgian beer.
Have you been to Baku yet? I’ve heard mixed things…
Nevermind. Just read your Baku post, lol.
Haha! Wow, you had me at “the glow of alcoholism”! Hilarious post and sounds like a great trip so far
cool to read that nothing had changed with mediko and suliko in the last 12 years!
stayed at their place back in september 2001… arrived in the evening, met mediko, who told me that her husband was drunk and therefore already sleeping. but, she added, the next evening we could drink together… i had little idea what drinking actually means in that familiy! when we started suliko definitely wasn’t sober, but still he was easily drinking me under the tabel… yeah, and already back then, the horns were suliko’s favourite wine drinking utensils. …still don’t remember how i made it in time / at all to catch the tbilissi bound train. didn’t make the best impression in the train …and for some reason ended up sleeping in the conducter’s compartment who twice tried to empty my moneybelt. i was just too relaxed to get angry about such minor offences and slept till tbilissi… was an awesome night!
will be in kutaisi again in two weeks time and most likely stay with them again – for a barrel or two 😉
btw. suliko is the brother of nasi (a retired german teacher) who back then was about the first to run a homestay in tbilissi.
tom, from austria
I suspect there are probably 1000’s of great drinking tales from their place but I got the impression that after all this time his drinking exploits with the guests, when he is capable of showing up, are getting on mediko’s nerves, she must be fed up of his routine to entertain the guests. He seemed to be capable of making more of an effort when young japanese women turn up???? May well be stopping by myself in a week or so. Enjoy your stay
how u book a room over there?
Hi sorry for the late reply but had limited internet recently in Myanmar. If you Google gvetadze homestay lonely planet it will give you the address and phone number, but it would be best to get someone who speaks Georgian or Russian to call. I just turned up as there were several dorm beds
I have spent alltogther 3 weeks on four visits at this homestay, and it is now my sekund home. Nest wedensday I have invited the family on a 60 yers party.
That’s great to hear. Not surprised you keep going back. Enjoy the party