There is an unmistakable feeling of spring here in Tbilisi, and that makes me antsy.
Due to another project–writing a new cozy mystery series set in Colorado–I haven’t had the chance to aimlessly wander around since Corie and I returned from London.
I’ve started nearly every day with the best of intentions: spend my morning and afternoon writing then jump on the metro and find a new neighborhood to explore.
Then the evening would roll around and I had somehow transformed into an immovable blob, content to settle into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.
I would be omitting part of the story if I didn’t admit to feeling a little photographically uninspired. We have been in Tbilisi for almost a year now, and the novelty felt like it had diminished a little bit.
That changed this past Tuesday. The day was warm, and the sky was blue. It wasn’t the best of conditions for my tastes in photographs, but it wasn’t the best conditions to sit in front of a computer all day, either, making up stories until my brain turned into a hard-boiled turnip.
My original idea was to go to the edge of town and explore a church ruin I had seen on the map. The journey would be a rattling hour ride on Tbilisi’s metro, a fifteen-minute bus ride from the northern most metro stop, then a ten-minute walk to the church.
I had timed everything to avoid the busy times on the metro.
Or so I had thought. When I arrived at the connecting metro station, the platform was packed with people. My timing was way off. I wanted to spend the day exploring, not being a human sardine.
The platform for the southbound metro was considerably less crowded. I decided to go to Old Town, a place I’ve wandered through several times this past year.
When I got off the metro, habit almost forced me to follow the uneven cobblestone street down a steep, narrow road toward Old Town. I turned left instead, walking toward a group of nondescript Soviet-era apartment buildings. I might not come back with interesting photographs, I thought, but the walk would be nice.
What I found was quite different, starting with a small park overlooking the Mtkvari River and Old Town, where I watched several couples on the park benches enjoying each other’s company along with the view. Continuing along, I wandered along winding streets, weaving through neighborhoods humming with spring activity. As a bonus, I found several more doors to continue filling out my 100 Doors of Tbilisi project.
Our human brains are funny, programmed to adapt. As novelty transforms to normal, it can be far to easy to be blind to the world around us. When those days happen, it’s good to turn left.
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