GNOMES OF WANDER: Georgian Hospitality

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Georgian Hospitality - Marina's Guesthouse

Hospitality can come in many forms, but for us it came in a glass jar.

Coming from Turkey, where everything was high energy and long distances, we were looking forward to a little down time when we crossed into Georgia. But unfortunately, when we hit our first city – Zugdidi – we didn’t quite get the rest we were hoping for. Although the mosquito net Matt had been carrying in his pack for the past 3 months finally got a chance to make its debut, it still didn’t alleviate the puddles of sweat forming in every crevice of our bodies while we tossed during the night.

Zugdidi Hostel

When we reached Borjomi, it was a pleasant town with a relaxing atmosphere – humid-free, with various carnival rides and an outdoor café in the park, a cable car, even a Ferris wheel overlooking the mineral water park that Borjomi is so famous for. But, these are not what made our stay here so memorable. It’s not so much a matter of what, but rather who it was that made all the difference.

When we arrived at the front door step of Marina’s Guesthouse, we weren't quite sure of what to expect – would she even have availability? We were aching for a place to just sit and catch up on blog posts, phone calls, and any other odds and ends that needed mending – like Matt’s ripped Jeans. As soon as we stepped over the threshold, we knew we had found our sanctuary.

Not only did we have exceptional accommodations, like a sparkling bathroom (with hot water), baby soft sheets and our very own living quarters, but Marina herself was all around pleasant. One of the first things she mentioned was how her children both met Americans teaching English in Georgia, and are now married, living abroad. As we struggled to ask questions sprinkled with Georgian, she handed us a book, “English to Georgian Easy Phrases,” that her daughter had given her.

During our 5 days there, we did some laundry (rather, she did for us), uploaded some pictures and had some of the most delicious jam one would every lick off a spoon. Every morning, we would get giddy waiting to glob it over every edible surface that could withstand the weight. It was that good, and it was homemade by Marina and her mom right in that very kitchen.

We were only supposed to stay for 2 nights, but she just made us feel so welcome in her home that we didn’t want to leave. (Meanwhile, we counted the people that had come and gone during our stay.) When we came down for our final breakfast, we were genuinely sad to go. We did our best to memorize the flavor profile of her signature jam, but just as we were finishing our final bite, a sizeable jar of this deliciousness appeared next to me on the table. Marina smiled and said, “It’s to take with you.”

That did it. My jar of jam runneth over.

Before we left, she gave us one of those “mom” hugs – you know, where you just feel loved, and we did our best to thank her for making us feel so at home – a home away from home if you will. We hope to one day meet again in Georgia or even the States when she’s visiting her daughter. For now, we’ll just have to make due with scraping the bottom of the jam jar.