The next morning, I set out to visit the medieval cave city of Vardzia. My hotel, the Taoskari, was just across the river from the site, so it was a simple matter of crossing the bridge and walking a few hundred metres to the entrance.
There is apparently a minibus that can take you up the hill to the level of the caves, but since I skipped the parking lot, I didn’t discover it until later. Instead, as I climbed the hill, I found myself among a busload of energetic German seniors. They had brought along their own tour guide, a very knowledgeable and enthusiastic Georgian woman who spoke German. I ended up tagging along with them and benefiting from their high quality tour.
As our guide explained, Vardzia was originally built by the twelfth-century king Giorgi III as a military garrison. The Mtkvari river valley below the walls was one of the main routes that an invading army of Turks could take into Georgia. The cave complex was built to house soldiers who were there to prevent that from happening. Although Vardzia is often described as a cave city or a monastery, it never housed more than a few hundred people, mostly soldiers.
The story goes that Vardzia got its name when a search party went looking for the young Princess Tamar (later Queen Tamar), who got lost in the caves. She called out Var, dzia! or “[Here] I am, uncle!” However, our guide pointed out that a more likely etymology derives from the word vardzi, which means tool. The name may have come about because the site was constantly under construction.
The seniors were all enthusiastic travellers who had no trouble tackling the complex’s many stairs. The original staircases often had stairs of variable heights, to trip up invaders, and some of the indoor passages required you to bend over in a narrow space while ascending and descending. Only a few of the indoor tunnels are open to the public, as earthquakes over the centuries have made the others unsafe.
At the end of the tour, our guide sang us a Georgian battle song. I wish I knew what the tour company was, so I could give her a five star review. All I know is that they’re a German outfit who show up at Vardzia late in the morning on a Friday, after visiting Uplitsikhe the previous day.
The Germans hurried back to their bus, and I lingered on the cliff side a little longer before descending to the parking lot cafe and finding myself a much-needed lemonade.
Kartvelian Adventures 