to love is to suffer
Went to the old town of Tbilisi today. Entered it through a little underpass with some graffiti:
Then I was in the alleys that felt narrow and grey:
I know I keep saying this, but they often reminded me of certain East European capital cities:
Maybe Budapest or Prague:
Before the restorations:
Only some of the non-touristic courtyards looked very different:
And when I lifted my eyes, I could see strange buildings held in place by steel girders:
Either way, Tbilisi was becoming hip:
And it did have some rather thought-provoking graffiti:
I walked around until darkness fell, and the gates to the courtyards became all the more enticing:
There was a school that had a sign in German, designating it as the “sixth authorized school”:
I didn’t try to find out what that meant, though.
Instead, I went back to the Thai restaurant that I liked so much:
To love was to suffer.
Not to love was to suffer.
But to eat pad thai, that was good.
Stéphane
Mon ami,
How about the Georgian food? Could tell us more about it?