Literal paradise.

Ushguli is a small cluster of towns that sits right on the Georgia-Russia border in the mountainous northerly region of Svaneti. It’s remote, difficult to access, and it’s got a population of less than 250 people. And yet, a quick Google image search for Georgia (the country of Georgia) will often return images of Ushguli even above images of the capital city. Clearly there is something special about this place.

I’d argue that there is something special about the entire province of Svaneti—it’s a magical region! However, Ushguli is the poster child for what makes this region so incredible. It’s not entirely unique from the many small towns that surround it, but its location and its purity definitely set it apart. This place is truly a step back in time. It is quite isolated and has incredible views of snowcapped mountains and dramatic glaciers off in the distance. I have no idea how this town has managed to remain so unchanged, even as Georgia’s ever-expanding crowds of tourists visit each day, but I’m not complaining.

Ushguli is the last installment on our Georgian odyssey for a reason—I was saving the best for last. Today we’re going join those tourists and see what all the fuss is about.

Getting From Mestia to Ushguli

If the trip from Zugdidi up into Svaneti’s mountains to get to Mestia was bad, this was about to be rough. Nobody is going to vomit into their own lap this time around… but it won’t be comfortable. We set out from Mestia early in the morning with a gruff, bearded Georgian driver that our Airbnb host Dato had arranged for us. Our driver turned out to be a very cool guy—he spoke great English as well. We were joined on our route by an assortment of Italians who were also traveling through the region.

The drive out of Mestia was, initially, quite smooth. The roads were paved and smooth, and the scenery was incredible. As we wound upwards into the mountains above Mestia, a striking feature came into view. Across the valley, on this clear morning, we had a perfect view of the famous double-summit of Mount Ushba. This is one of the most notable mountains in the entire Caucasus region, including Russia’s massive swathes of territory as well. The double-summit is not a commonly occuring feature; I learned from my little brother, who is very into rockclimbing, that there are only a couple hundred mountains in the world that have this. I also learned from him that, within the climbing community, Ushba is widely considered to be the most difficult mountain to summit within this range. Apparently they call it “the Matterhorn of the Caucasus.” You can see its unmistakable profile in the gallery below.

I should note that it’s actually a popular trekking route to hike from Mestia to Ushguli. It’s a challenging, mountainous trail, and it generally takes about a week to complete. We didn’t have enough time to do that, and I’m not big into hiking, but as we made the 2-ish hour drive, I was really starting to wish we had made the time. This hike would have been INCREDIBLE. As we came over the crest of the ridge we had been climbing, we descended into a breathtaking maze of mountain villages scattered across the unforgiving terrain. I had assumed that Ushguli was an exception to the rule, but if this drive showed me anything, it’s that Ushguli is just a drop in the bucket. On this hike, people just walk from town to town, finding guesthouses and local food along the way. As I write this, I’m really have FOMO that I didn’t get the opportunity to do this. Every once in a while I would catch a glimpse of hikers through the thick layers of spruce trees and think to myself, “That looks awesome. I should have done this!”

As the ridges enclosing the valley we were winding through grew closer on each side, the pavement quickly ended and we found ourselves rocketing along a poorly maintained dirt road. Off to our right side, a cliff emerged with a drop ranging from 10 to 50 feet down to a small river below. I snapped a few pictures from the backseat as we thundered along. I’ve tried to doctor up those photos to give you an idea of what this drive was like. I had been wise in taking a double-dose of my Georgian dramamine before we departed. On our way back we picked up some hikers who needed to get a lift back to Mestia and we had to pull over for them multiple times. These roads are not easy on the stomach.

Eventually the canyon walls fell away revealing lush, green rolling hills. We were getting close to Ushguli. As we drove, we would often have to stop to allow herds of cows to cross the road. We began seeing smaller, poorer Svan towns pop up around us. Still, in spite of their poor upkeep, their stone towers stood as a proud, unmistakable beacon of Svan culture. Clearly we had gotten ourselves pretty far off the reservation. The next town down from Ushguli is called Chazhashi. We passed through this town slowly, and eventually rolled to a stop at our final destination. Here are a few iPhone pictures from the drive:

Exploring Ushguli

We started with some lunch. Our driver dropped us off next to a restaurant that served a hearty plate of Khachapuri (which is like a robust, cheesy Georgian version of a quesadilla). Honestly it felt pretty 3rd world out here (excuse my use of a dated term) but the apparent lack of amenities had not compromised their ability to cook up these tasty Georgian dishes in the least. This was the final nail in the coffin of my regret for not having made the time to hike here from Mestia. Knowing that I could have been eating food as good as this the whole way makes the prospect a lot less intimidating. Oh well.

Stepping out into this village, I wasn’t sure where to begin, so I just started walking. With each turned corner and bend in the road, Ushguli unfurled before me like some sort of surreal dreamscape. The details were all so intricate and perfect that there was a lot to take in with every step. At the beginning of this walk, I remember experiencing something akin to a lag-time, as if the town was rendering around me as my brain struggled to take in all the information.

The roads were dirt and often had large areas of mud left over from rains that had since passed through. Hugging the road closely on each side were weathered fences and ancient stone walls, overflowing with bright green grass and colorful arrays of wildflowers. These wildflowers would usually be spilling out of fields that looked like they—at one time—had been used for agriculture. Likewise, there were lots of old-world farming tools visible in every available piece of negative space. Most of them looked as if they had not been used in decades. Still, there were signs that this town was actively dependent on their own agricultural means. Livestock, such as cows and horses, wandered the streets of Ushguli freely. On the sloping green hills surrounding the village, there was crude fencing visible, inside of which groups of horses grazed. Oh, and there were lots of friendly dogs and puppies running around as well.

Continuing my walk through Ushguli, I was having trouble discerning which structures had been abandoned, and which structures still had people living in them. There was quite a wide spectrum of disrepair at play. Many of these structures were literally falling apart, but others were solid enough that I found myself wondering if anybody in Georgia was really THAT poor. I mean, I’ve seen people live like this in various parts of Asia and Latin America… but Georgia had seemed to be a couple levels above those places economically. But even here, I know there are people living below the poverty line. Georgia has had a rough go of things since the collapse of the Soviet Union, and its economic outlook, though already vastly improved, is still a work in progress. SO I DUNNO. There’s definitely some poverty out here. But there are also nice houses. But the economics of this place is a footnote. The aura and surroundings of Usghuli is the real story. Here are some photos from the earlier parts of my wanderings…

Continuing my walk northeast, the town quickly gave way to an endless landscape of bright green grass, swaying softly against a temperate summer mountain wind. Winding off into the distance was a lonely dirt road. The scene was silent and inviting. I mean, how do you not walk down this road a ways? It looked like something out of a fairy tale. I followed it over a hill and around a bend until I could see straight down the canyon to the snowcapped mountains at the far end. The snowcaps at the end of this canyon marked the Russian border, which is pretty cool. I’ve seen Russia now. Eventually I’ll actually go there. But in the foreground of this epic scenery—it was almost too good to be true—was a white stallion, grazing in the field. Quickly but cautiously, I started edging my way closer to line up the perfect shot.

“Are you kidding me?” I muttered to myself, “This is TOO perfect.”

Off in the distance I could see the dirt road continuing along the banks of a river. This was the same river that would eventually wind its way through Ushguli: the Patara Enguri. Hundreds of meters above that road, on the rugged green slopes of this canyon, bands of wild horses graze happily. It was quite a view. Here are some of my favorite pictures from this place.

Those snowcapped mountains off in the distance that straddle the Georgia-Russia border are actually home to yet another glacier. As such, this dirt road continued a few miles to the foot of what is sure to have been some spectacular hiking. But I couldn’t walk much farther. I had to turn back and see more of Ushguli. The next townlet down the river is called Chazhashi, so I decided to double back that way.

There wasn’t a paved road for at least 100 km in any direction, and sometimes the dirt roads in these town would turn into mud pits so formidable that small cars would have had a difficult time making it through. So, at times, these roads became obstacle courses. As a result, I was on the lookout for alternative routes that would require me to hurdle these giant cesspools less often. This led me up small paths, through old wooden gates, and through large areas of gardens sometimes. Clearly the people still living in Ushguli were growing the lion’s share of their vegetables right here. And oh my god, the FLOWERS! Filling every available piece of negative space there were colorful wildflowers swaying in the breeze. And in place of the flies you might imagine gathering in mud pits, instead there were literal swarms of butterflies. There were everywhere, but they especially liked to gather on wet earth. You’ll see them flying around in some of the shots below. Oh, and dogs, There continued to be lots of very friendly dogs trotting around the area, a few of whom are also pictured below.

Of all these pictures, there was one that really sticks out in my mind. As I was walking down the muddy road, weaving between crumbling brick structures, I came into view of a group of young kids yelling to each other in Georgian… or maybe it was Svan? I don’t know how to tell the difference in these languages, but I was able to tell that they were getting ready to play hide and seek. As I continued my walk towards them on the road, they all ran off to find hiding places while on of them closed their eyes and began to count. I just walked on by, and for the next 10 or 15 minutes of my walk, I kept seeing little heads poking out from cracks and crevices in the decaying stone structures that made up Ushguli. It was pretty funny and cute. These kids were goofballs. I had stopped at one corner to take a picture of something, when one of the children stepped into view on the lower section of a house’s roof. I think I actually saw her step into view through my lens. Recognizing the potentially perfect composition of this frame, I quickly adjusted and snapped a picture of her instead. By the time I took my camera away from my eye, she had already disappeared.

I LOVE seeing photos of people from other places and cultures. Obviously places like Ushguli are incredibly beautiful, but it’s the human element that is really compelling to me. Photographers like Steve McCurry have really set the bar for this type of photojournalistic portrait. But how do you actually get these pictures? Steve often goes so far as to pose a lot of them and does full-on photoshoots with his subjects, but he’s also done some incredible work capturing real, candid moments out there in the world. I have always been mystified by how well he is able to do this. In my own attempts to recreate this, I’ve learned that it’s pretty awkward to ask people if you can take their picture… especially when you don’t speak their language. And when it’s a child it can feel especially weird. You really just need to learn how to be observant, “skate where the puck is going,” and be ready to take a well-composed, technically solid photo within a 1-second window. These shots only exist in the real world for a very short amount of time, and if you blink, you can miss them. The photo below really fell into my lap, and I think it’s one of the better “People” shots I’ve taken. Thanks Ushguli.

One important dimension to Ushguli that I should highlight is the against-all-odds sense of homeostasis this place maintains. It was perfect here. It struck me as being a bit fragile, but still, undeniably perfect. And in spite of that sense of fragility, clearly this place had weathered quite a lot out here in the remote reaches of the Caucasus mountain range. The snowcaps in the distance served as a powerful reminder that winter had only recently and temporarily relinquished its grip on this place. It had just moved a few kilometers down the valley, and was still very much in plain sight. How could it still be winter there, but summer here in Ushguli?

One I had completed a long, thorough lap around the area, I sat my butt down on the side of a hill looking out towards the snowy Russian border. And, as luck would have it, I realized that this exact spot was the quintessential photo of Ushguli that you’ll see all over the internet. If you Google Ushguli, this shot will be the first 10 search results. So let me throw my own version of this into the running.

I confess that I wasn’t entirely “present” on this trip. There was a lot to worry about on the home front, and I knew I’d be headed back there in just a few days, so I might not have bonded with Georgia in the way I have with other countries. But Ushguli was an exception. It really stopped me in my tracks and pushed all swirling thoughts and anxieties from my mind. Walking around this town, I kept coming back to the reality that this would be the most beautiful thing I’d see for at least another calendar year. Any further in the future was a total mystery, but I knew I had to open up my mind and savor this place.

So that’s what I did.

With the mountain wind softly blowing all around me, I just sat there and looked.

What a beautiful country Georgia turned out to be.