The old town of Tbilisi

I love wandering the streets of the old town in Tbilisi. Not the streets which have been smartly renovated, and are now crammed with cafés. Rather those that have not been renovated, with their uniquely Georgian style and charm. With their often brightly coloured facades and balconies, sometimes going right the way round the building, and the colourful plants that twine among them, they give the streets a feel of romance. Many of the streets are shabby and dilapidated, the houses cracked and broken, beyond repair in some cases. If to the outside visitor they appear picturesque, to the residents they probably seem draughty and uncomfortable, images of poverty rather than of charm.

I find it peculiar that these beautiful, albeit rundown streets of central Tbilisi are not more attractive to better-off residents of the city. Rather, it is the Vera, Vake and Saburtalo districts, with their modern apartment blocks, that are favoured by the smart Tbilisi elite. In some cities, such as Zagreb, it has been the newly prosperous, the advertising executives and bankers, moving into the older central districts, buying up from impoverished residents who could not afford the maintenance or renovation of their buildings, that has been an important dynamo for restoration and repair. Not so Tbilisi.

For all the charm of the ramshackle dwellings in Tbilisi’s old town, they must of course be renovated, and in some cases, unfortunately, the only solution is to tear them down. The main hope is that the rebuilding will be done sensitively, in keeping with the style and traditions of these neighbourhoods; that there will be the same attention to detail, for example in the often ornate trellises around the balconies.

Some recent constructions give cause for concern about the aesthetic taste of the current leadership. The gaudy footbridge over the Mt'k'vari river is placed right next to the old town, below the castle, and surrounded on all sides by fine old churches. Some modern constructions built among older buildings, such as the pyramid at the Louvre, seem inspired. This bridge seems horribly out of place. When I first saw it, I thought it looked like a sea monster, or a giant slug. More disrespectful Tbilisi residents dubbed it “the tampon”. And then there is the president’s residence, a rip-off of the Reichstag. Perhaps the policeman who tried to stop me photographing the residence was actually motivated by embarrassment.

The president's residence, behind the giant slug bridge

There is a place in Tbilisi for larger, more monumental buildings, around Rustaveli and the squares at either end. The beauty of the narrow streets of the old town is in their small-scale simplicity. For now, I am grateful I can enjoy walking those streets, aware that they will not for long be as are now.