Part 2

Mestia - a mountain town where time learned to move more slowly. Tucked high in Upper Svaneti, surrounded by jagged Caucasus peaks and guarded by centuries-old stone towers, this small town feels less like a destination and more like a state of mind.

The iconic Svan towers, rising 20–25 meters beside family homes, were built between the 9th and 13th centuries. Each family had one. Each tower told the same story: protection, independence, and an understanding that life in the mountains requires preparation.

For centuries, Svaneti was effectively unreachable for much of the year. That isolation shaped everything. It was never fully conquered by invading empires, medieval Georgian kings sent treasures here for safekeeping. Blood feuds existed, but so did strong communal law and Mestia became a kind of mountain vault, preserving artifacts, manuscripts, and traditions that disappeared elsewhere.

Today, the town balances carefully between preservation and progress—modern guesthouses stand beside stone towers older than most countries.

Nearby Mountains Tetnuldi (4,858 m) and Ushba (4900 m) rise up and dominate the skyline.

After dark, Mestia slows to a near standstill, the towers fading into shadow as livestock curl up on the edges of the road, turning the streets into shared space where night traffic yields to animals and the village runs on its own unspoken rules.

From Mestia, a short walk brings you to the Hatsvali cable car, which lifts you quietly above the town and into open mountain space. The ride is brief but transformative: rooftops and Svan towers drop away, replaced by forests, ridgelines, and a widening horizon. Even outside ski season, the cable car runs as a gentle shortcut into the high ground, saving both time and elevation.

At the top station, the atmosphere shifts immediately. The air is cooler, the light sharper, and the sense of distance more pronounced. From here, an easy stroll heads east, following open slopes and soft ridgelines rather than a strict trail. The path is intuitive, inviting wandering rather than directing it.

To the north, the Zuruldi ridge stretches out in layered contours, its long ridge catching light and shadow as clouds move overhead. To the south, the mountains above Mestia rise in quiet succession—less dramatic than the high glaciers, but no less absorbing. The town itself feels far away from up here, reduced to a suggestion in the valley below.

The stroll requires little effort and offers much in return: space, perspective, and time to linger. You can turn back whenever the view feels complete. Like much in Svaneti, this is not about reaching a destination, but about letting the landscape unfold at its own pace.

Chvabiani is a small village in Upper Svaneti, located just east of Mestia in a broad, open valley framed by the Caucasus Mountains. It’s part of the Latali community, one of the oldest settled areas in the region, and while it sits close to Svaneti’s main hub, it remains notably low-key and residential.

The village feels practical rather than picturesque—working farmland, grazing livestock, and clusters of stone houses define the landscape more than souvenir shops or tour infrastructure.

Historically, Chvabiani reflects the defensive and communal structure typical of Svan settlements. Several Svan towers still stand throughout the village, built between the 9th and 13th centuries as family fortifications during periods of inter-clan conflict and external threat.

The village is also part of a region where the Svan language—distinct from Georgian—has survived as a spoken language into the present day.

From a tourism perspective, Chvabiani is not a destination in itself so much as a base for exploring Upper Svaneti. Its location makes it convenient for hiking routes toward Ushguli, Zhabeshi, and the surrounding mountain passes.

Fun facts tend to be understated here—such as the fact that many footpaths still follow medieval routes, or that some families can trace their presence in the village back for centuries.

Tsvirmi is a compact Svan village perched high above the Enguri valley, southwest of Mestia, and immediately feels more remote than its distance on a map suggests. Reached by a steep road that climbs quickly from the main valley, the village sits on a hillside with wide views toward Tetnuldi and the surrounding peaks. Its elevated position has shaped both daily life and its historical role in Upper Svaneti, giving Tsvirmi a sense of separation from the busier transit routes below.

The village itself is small enough to explore on foot in a short time, but its real draw lies in its setting: access to forest trails, high pastures, and panoramic viewpoints rather than marked attractions. Because of its altitude and exposure, Tsvirmi often feels cooler and windier than the valley below.

At night, Mestia settles into a soft, practical quiet—streetlights catching the outlines of Svan towers while cows and horses lie sleeping along the roadside, unbothered by the occasional passing car, as if the village has agreed that darkness belongs to them first.

A hike to the Koruldi Lakes is a gentle yet rewarding mountain walk that balances open alpine landscapes with rugged, working terrain.

Koruldi Lakes are commonly reached on foot from Mestia or by 4x4, and conditions depend heavily on recent rainfall and snowmelt. Visitors should expect exposure, wind, and cooler temperatures than in the valley, as well as a setting that feels functional and seasonal rather than scenic in a conventional sense.

This hiking route follows a practical mountain corridor rather than a purpose-built trail, linking villages and pastureland that are still actively used in the warmer months. It begins on a mix of dirt road and worn footpath, gradually gaining elevation above the valley floor.

As the trail climbs, views open steadily toward Mestia and the surrounding ridgelines, offering a clear sense of how settlements sit within the landscape rather than dominating it. The route passes occasional farm structures, fences, and seasonal shelters, reinforcing that this is working land first and a hiking route second.

Much of the route is exposed, with long stretches crossing open meadows and grazing areas where cows and horses roam freely, and bells are often the most consistent background sound. Waymarking is minimal, and the path’s logic comes from terrain and habit rather than signage.

The route mirrors how people have moved through Upper Svaneti for generations—connecting villages, pastures, and resources rather than scenic highlights. It’s common to encounter locals on foot or horseback, especially during summer, using the same path for daily tasks.

There are no services along the way, and water sources are limited and not always reliable, so preparation matters.

Though small and often shallow, the lakes catch the light in ways that make them feel larger than they are, reflecting the sky after rain or narrowing to muddy basins by late summer.

What draws people here isn’t the lakes themselves so much as the position: from this altitude, the views toward Ushba, Tetnuldi, and the surrounding Caucasus peaks are wide and unobstructed - if the fog is on your side😀, giving a clear sense of scale to the landscape below.

The area around the lakes is open and largely treeless, used as summer pasture, with livestock often grazing nearby. There is no infrastructure at the site—no shelters, no services, and no defined walking loop—just open ground and weather that can shift quickly.

Every step offers a little more of the plateau, the peaks, and the lived-in landscape that has guided travelers for centuries.

Koruldi Lakes are commonly reached on foot from Mestia or by 4x4, and conditions depend heavily on recent rainfall and snowmelt. Visitors should expect exposure, wind, and cooler temperatures than in the valley, as well as a setting that feels functional and seasonal rather than scenic in a conventional sense.

The hike between Chvabiani and Adishi is a highland trek through classic Upper Svaneti terrain—steep valleys, open pastures, and rugged mountain trails. It’s not a formal path in the sense of a marked tourist trail, but rather a series of old tracks that locals and shepherds have used for generations. Footing varies from compacted dirt to loose stones, with occasional muddy or slippery sections after rain. Proper boots and attention to footing are essential.

The stroll started from the village of Chvabiani following the route through the open fields and through the forest towards Tetnulti ski resort.

Visitors can expect a practical, unpolished mountain experience: limited services, strong winds, and long daylight hours in summer.

The Tetnulti ski resort sits on the northern slopes of Tetnuldi, Upper Svaneti’s iconic snow-capped peak, at an altitude that allows long ski seasons and reliable snow cover. From the base, the mountain rises sharply, its glaciers and jagged ridges forming a rugged backdrop to the resort’s more structured runs.

Adishi is a remote highland village in Upper Svaneti, sitting at roughly 2,040 meters (6,700 feet) above sea level, on the northern slopes of the Caucasus. Its position makes it one of the gateways to the Tetnuldi massif, with sweeping views of glaciers, sharp ridges, and snowfields that dominate the horizon.

Adishi has historically been a seasonal settlement, used both for summer pastures and as a defensive refuge during centuries of clan conflicts, and many of the traditional Svan towers here still stand, stone sentinels overlooking the valley.

The village itself is small and largely untouched by modern tourism, with a handful of guesthouses serving hikers and mountaineers heading toward Tetnuldi or the surrounding glaciers. Houses are built in classic Svan style—compact stone structures with slate roofs, often clustered around the towers and the small church that marks the village center.

Life in Adishi is slow and tied to the rhythms of the land: herding, farming, and seasonal movement remain central, and visitors are often struck by how little has changed over the centuries.

The village rewards patience and observation with encounters with local culture, centuries-old architecture, and a front-row view of one of Svaneti’s most striking peaks. It’s a place where the mountain feels alive, shaping daily life as much now as it did in the past.

Views from the resort are expansive. On clear days, you can see across Upper Svaneti’s valleys to villages like Mestia and Adishi, and across ridges toward neighboring peaks such as Shkhara and Ushba. Wildlife is present but elusive—chamois and birds of prey navigate the higher slopes, while livestock graze in the lower pastures during summer months.

In the afternoon sun, the route back toward Chvabiani village unfolds in a symphony of colors, with herds of horses grazing peacefully, inviting admiration along the way.