There I was, breaking Georgian bread and dunking it into warm chicken soup, solo inside a hotel that once dispatched public mails and telegrams..
Tbilisi is not a city that rushes to impress you. It leaves the discovery up to you; as you like, when you like, between its abundance of Soviet-era buildings, graffiti walls, balconies laden with colourful laundry, orthodox churches, ornate period-style theatres and cultural centres, pomegranate trees, troops of friendly street cats, antique flea markets, lanes dotted with pubs and wine bars, sulfur bathhouses, concealed underpasses, cable cars, the (Mtatsminda) mountains and more. And so, between arriving and settling into the city for the opening of The Telegraph Hotel, which was once a Post & Telegraph building in the 1960s’ Soviet Georgia, I soon realise that first impressions are rarely final.
We often carry a somewhat imagined reality for destinations we have yet to see. This imagination either comes alive or disappears once we really visit the place, peeling off a reality both familiar and unfamiliar. Travelling to Tbilisi is such. What I had once heard and later confirmed on the map — Georgia’s geography shares not one but two continents, privy to a dual identity of being West Asian as well as Eastern European.
“Our transformation and the transformative intervention (of the hotel) is not an act of restoration but a critical reinterpretation”
- Lyndon Neri, Neri&Hu























