Ashes in the Light

After two peaceful nights in Kakheti, it was time to leave wine country behind and begin the journey north towards Kazbegi.

The drive would take around four hours, and we set off at about 10 in the morning.

This time, we had a different driver.

As it turned out, he worked for the driver who had brought us to Kakheti a few days earlier. Before we left, our previous driver had thoughtfully mentioned to him that Daniel was prone to motion sickness and suggested that he sit in the front passenger seat for the journey.

It was one of those small acts of kindness that stayed with me.

Later, we learnt that our driver’s name was Ash, or at least that was how it sounded to us.

Although his English was limited, we still managed to chat throughout the drive. He introduced us to a few Georgian songs that became the soundtrack to our journey through the mountains, and even taught us a couple of simple Georgian phrases.

“Gamarjoba,” meaning hello.

“Madloba,” meaning thank you.

By the end of the drive, we were happily repeating the words back to him, probably with terrible pronunciation, but he laughed and patiently corrected us anyway.

It was another small reminder of the warmth and kindness we had experienced throughout Georgia.

The weather was pleasantly cool, though still warm enough to enjoy having the windows down from time to time.

Our first stop was at a small roadside market.

Like many roadside stops in Georgia, it was more than just a place to stretch our legs.

There were local stalls, a small café, and a viewpoint overlooking the surrounding landscape.

After a short break, we continued our journey.

Not long afterwards, the scenery began to change.

The rolling vineyards of Kakheti gradually disappeared behind us, replaced by winding mountain roads and increasingly dramatic landscapes.

And then…

We saw snow.

For the first time on the trip, the mountain peaks ahead were dusted with white.

Even from inside the car, the view was breathtaking.

The bright snow against the deep blue sky somehow made everything feel even more majestic.

Along the way, we passed countless sheep grazing beside the roads and even a few donkeys wandering nearby.

It felt wonderfully rural, a reminder of just how diverse Georgia’s landscapes are.

We also drove past the Russia–Georgia Friendship Monument.

Although it had been on our original list of places to stop, the area was packed with tourists that afternoon. Our driver suggested we continue instead, as there was a possibility of traffic delays and temporary road closures further ahead.

Looking back, I think it was the right decision.

Sometimes the journey itself is enough.

By the time we reached Rooms Hotel Kazbegi, the air had become noticeably cooler.

The hotel had been on my wishlist long before the trip, and seeing it in person somehow exceeded my expectations.

The reception area was simple and understated, but the moment we looked out towards the mountains, none of that mattered anymore.

The view was absolutely breathtaking.

Our room wasn’t particularly large, but it was comfortable, thoughtfully designed, and easily spacious enough for the two of us.

More importantly, every window seemed to frame the mountains like a painting.

Looking back now, I think Kazbegi became my favourite place in Georgia.

Kakheti had been peaceful.

But Kazbegi felt different.

Slower.

Quieter.

More dramatic.

It was the kind of place that made you pause without even realising it.

And as I stood looking out towards the mountains that first afternoon, I had a feeling the next couple of days were going to be something special.