The Republic of Georgia’s on My Mind © 2012 Thomas G. Tait

Georgia, Georgia,

The whole day through

Just an old sweet song

Keeps Georgia on my mind

Other arms reach out to me

Other eyes smile tenderly,

Still in peaceful dreams I see

The road leads back to you. 

  
 Ray Charles

This accounting is dedicated to my dear friend and sometimes long-distance traveling companion, Nevada State Senator Bill Raggio.   He was a kind intellectual who believed in the power of synergy, more perhaps than anyone I have ever had the pleasure to befriend.  Rest in peace, Senator.  We will miss you!

Chapters One and Two

In November 2006, through invitation by the United States Community Connections Program and Dr. Carina Black, director of the International Center of the University of Nevada in Reno, I found myself lecturing to a group of tourism professionals from the Republic of Georgia, a country little known to me located on the eastern shore of the Black Sea.  I had visited Turkey, Bulgaria, Romania and Ukraine on that so-called dark sea’s southern, western and northern coasts, but I knew next to nothing about its sunrise attributes.

It’s not really a black sea per se, nor even a dark one, but it had a reputation in more ancient times as a treacherous waterway, difficult to navigate even on days whose beginnings were mostly tranquil. Storm clouds assembled quickly and loomed over the horizon to give an ominous mood of blackness to this substantial inland body of water.  As though the ghastly mentor of the Bermuda Triangle, a great number of vessels were lost without trace of survival.  

Today its waters gently lap against the shorelines of six nations on two continents while providing a breeding ground for innumerable fish species and a tanning zone for pigment-challenged humans throughout its 4,350 mile circumference.  It welcomes over 55,000 ships per year through the Bosporus Straight, which divides Europe from Asia at Istanbul.

Twenty-five practiced and inquisitive professionals from Georgia were conveyed to Reno, Nevada for three weeks of concentrated indoctrination in all things touristic.  This was occasioned by site visits with notable, interesting and agreeable experts in eco-tourism, brand marketing, resort operations, agriculture, sports, history, and the medico-spa fields.  And, they had to sit through, sequestered at the university, two days of a half-vast lecture by me on ‘best practices in the tourism craft’ and ‘how to fashion positive first-time visitor impressions’.

I was fortunate to have served as the executive director of the Nevada Commission on Tourism, the organization charged with the responsibility to market Brand-Nevada domestically and to the world.  I had occasion, during my twelve years with the Commission, to collaborate with global tour operators, international airline executives, the United States and foreign governments to attain increased air service, swifter visa approvals and more robust customer itineraries.  

Mid-term, I was asked by our State Department to conduct a tourism survey of Bulgaria -- a survey that attracted the attention of President Stoyanov of that nation.  From those early days, a respectful and caring relationship has developed between me and the people of Eastern Europe, Central and Eastern Asia – a bond of respect and trust.

The audience in Reno appeared to be a tough one at first glance.  Not many smiles were observed even after applying the tried and true Eastern European Anecdotal Humor (EEAH) method of warming them up.  I’d used this tactic before, calling out an inbred sense of humor.  Eastern Europeans are no strangers to this form of humor.  In fact, they probably have many more anecdotes to call upon than anyone else; for under the totalitarian regime in the Soviet Union numerous bon mots circulating in society were the only way to reveal and denounce vices of the political system and its leaders.

EEAH was coined by me after several visits to Gabrovo, Bulgaria’s comedy capital located pretty much in the center of that country.  Not only is it the slenderest city I’ve ever seen (at many points about two blocks wide), it spans almost eleven miles in length.  Gabrovo enjoys ownership of The Bulgarian House of Humor and Satire (photos below) dedicated to hubris, lampoon and self-deprecating funniness; its inhabitants are notorious throughout Eastern Europe for being skinflints, dubbed as even more thrifty than the Scots.  Hailing my ancestry from Scotland, I initially took offense at that notion – but quickly assuaged my pique when I remembered that the Scots are cheapskates, but THEY don’t possess a sense of humor at all.    

                         

   

I reasoned that if I could entice this herd of skeptics into learning waters through a laugh or two, getting them to do an upstream backstroke using academic homily would be a piece of cake.  Not!  I think their hesitance in warming up to me was a frosty knowledge that they had to spend two days confined to a classroom.  Let’s face it, Reno has casinos, entertainment, Lake Tahoe next door, and lots of interesting places to visit; and I’d seen and done all those things numerous times, so temptation wasn’t pulling at MY drawstrings.  But then, when I engaged them in conversation about their responsibilities and what tourism meant to them, they chimed in, and by ten a.m. on the first day, they had warmed right up.  

For the next two days we learned from each other about the nature of tourism in the world today and the lay of the land in Georgia.  As a Community Connections Program should resolve to connect, we connected.  (I’m proud to say that I’ve developed with more than a few of these delegates a lasting friendship, and not just on Facebook!)

Jump ahead, please, to July 2007.  

Barbara Durant, the State Department’s project manager for Eastern Europe and Central Asia (with whom I had often communicated) called me to request an eleven-day countrywide site inspection of the Democratic Republic of Georgia the upcoming September.  She also extended a similar invitation to my partner, former Nevada Governor Bob Miller, who, as it turned out, would only be able to accommodate her request for four of the eleven days.  I cleared the specified dates and supplied my preferred routing to Barbara through Amsterdam and Istanbul.  The good folks who attended the Reno lecture had requested of our Embassy in Tbilisi a site visit and sermon in Georgia’s capital, and also in Batumi, its largest resort community on the Black Sea coast.  I was flattered and honored to oblige.

I understood that no visa was required to enter this historic territory of Silk Route traders — the site at which the oldest known wine vessels were unearthed (example below); the country of Stalin’s birth and formative years (I thought that point worthy of a moment’s reflection); and the land of the legendary 2003 Rose Revolution.  The U.S. Embassy staff in Tbilisi had prepared a comprehensive program for me for the first week, followed by four days of ample exploration and instruction with my partner Bob and our guest lecturer, Dr. Todor Radev of Dobrich, Bulgaria.  

Bob, the former 10-year Governor of Nevada, couldn’t arrange his schedule to accommodate the entire technical assistance assignment, but I was pleased, as was U.S. Ambassador John Tefft and our gracious Georgian hosts, that he could squeeze any time for this mission at all.  After all, it did take about 26 hours to trek to Georgia and a like amount was consumed on the home leg.

Todor is the rector of the Bulgarian International College, a tourism training institute whose main campus is in a community not far from the Bulgarian coast of the Black Sea. He was conferred a Ph.D. in economics from the distinguished St. Petersburg State University of Economics and Finance (photo below).  

Todor’s Achilles' heel in the late-80s was that he never eschewed obfuscation.  When he let it slip to the Party ne’er-do-wells that the Marxist economic system was rightly doomed to failure, he was spurned by the Communist superintendents in Bulgaria and sent packing.  He then, miraculously (and thankfully) was allowed to pursue his love for educating and tourism — combining the two disciplines and opening his own college in 1992.   

During this visit to Georgia in 2007, Todor celebrated his fifteenth year of successfully training future tourism professionals in the fine arts and sciences of travel, lodging, food and beverage, and attraction management.

I arrived on a mid-September Saturday evening at the newly constructed Tbilisi airport and stepped into the border inspection zone for passport clearance.  I joined a short line in a clean, modern, well-lit facility (below) and was shortly summoned to the window by a smiling, attractive, female Georgian border control officer.

She greeted me and asked if I was visiting Georgia on business or pleasure.  I said a little of both and she smiled a tad more openly and uttered eight magic words, “Well, welcome to Georgia, we’re glad you’re here.”  Whereupon she stamped my passport, returned it to me, and wished me a good stay.  I had never heard that phrase before by an official at a border control station, anywhere.  I felt as though when I went through the exit door, Mickey & Minnie Mouse would be waiting and the Magic Kingdom would be laid out in front of me on the other side.

So, I stopped after I had passed through the checkpoint counters and loitered for a while to make sure that my greeting experience wasn’t a fluke.  It wasn’t!  Every border patrol officer had the same demeanor with people who possessed a foreign passport.  I couldn’t tell what they were saying to their comrades from Georgia, not understanding for that matter, either their patois or any other language from east of the U.K., west of Hawaii, or south of San Diego.  (It has become well-known in some circles that I speak only enough of a foreign tongue to get myself into very serious trouble.)

That said, I was warmly greeted by English-speaking U.S. Embassy staff outside of the customs inspection station and transported to the newish Sheraton Hotel, sitting atop a hill with a view of historic Tbilisi (below photo).  I relaxed for a while and met my two Georgian hosts, Dimitri Rempel (who was a key participant in Reno) and Zviad Elizani, in the lobby before heading to a very comfortable Sheraton room (unfortunately sans Sheraton Sweet Sleeper bed). 

Zviad and Dimitri and I spent most of the following day together, wandering through the city while getting to know more about each other and learning from them what they and the other Georgian participants would like to see accomplished through our visit.  Tbilisi is a great walking city with plentiful points of interest and romantic overlooks.  I wished my sweetie was with me during this expedition.  (More photos of Tbilisi in Chapter Two).

Georgia has embraced the West as trading partners, as mentee or mentor depending on the type of advice sought and by whom.  As noted, I was staying at a Sheraton hotel — and there were two Marriott hotels in the center of the city.  Today there is also a Radisson Blu and a Holiday Inn, as well as several other brands that are headquartered in various countries. There are also a growing number of boutique properties with a unique Georgian quality in the décor and amenities that sets them apart from other stately and compact hostelries.  The country is casino-friendly, its signage is translated using Roman characters, and the parts of the city I visited were well maintained and litter-free.

On Monday I spent the morning at the brand new, ultra secure U.S. Embassy (below) just outside the central core of the capital. I met the team of commercial and public affairs professionals, thanked profusely those folks that aided in my visit, examined the agenda for the coming week, and benefited from a comprehensive in-country briefing by the kindly and well-informed Chargé d’Affaires.

We adjourned for lunch and journeyed to a very old wooden restaurant positioned just beyond the banks of the Mt'k'vari (Kura) River (below).  It was here I had my first serious taste of Georgian cuisine and wine and learned the tradition of toasting.

The excesses of the Georgian tamada, or toastmaster, are legendary - long flowing speeches on life, love, and family often washed down with copious quantities of fine Georgian wine - but the quality of the Georgian cuisine is also celebrated; hosts outdoing each other with exotic dish after dish lavished upon moaning foodies. A native restaurant experience can be indescribable, but I will endeavor through this story to give you some hint of the extraordinary nature of Georgian gastronome.  

The venue chosen for my first meal was an open pit, grill-style riverfront cafe in a historic building with captivating views of the uncompromised water and city beyond.  Its specialty was grilled meats, poultry as well as fresh- and saltwater fish.  

Some of the delicacies were prepared en marinade but all were served with a variety of pottages on the side, finished separately or occasionally blended with one or more of the following: pomegranates, walnuts, cherries, mushrooms, peppers, peaches, kiwi (really!), beet juice, currant, garlic, aubergine caviar, and many, many other amazingly subtle, sometimes spicy, and consistently delicious ingredients.  The freshly baked breads were, in a word, todiefor.  While meals may appear to be ‘casual,’ they are anything but.

After an enjoyable lunch, we were off to the American Chamber of Commerce for a get-together with their management team and briefing on the state of American investment in Georgia, and then to an anticipated meeting with the senior staff of the Georgian National Tourism Agency. They were likeable gents, but appeared a bit put off by my visit and credentials.  Apparently they weren’t brought into the loop when the invitation for me to evaluate Tourism-Georgia was extended.  

I used a little EEAH and also sincerely complimented them on the border inspection process I witnessed.   I let them know honestly how much I admired the numerous well-maintained historic and cultural icons and attractions that were evident in Tbilisi.  They advised me that the border control officers were trained in greeting guests hospitably by a consulting company from the U.S.A.  I wondered out loud why we (the U.S.A.) had never taken advantage of that service.  They further proudly enlightened me about the capital improvements that were in process in Mtskheta on the road to the wine country (we were to visit that ethnographically revitalized area in about a week).  

I asked them about the level of support Batumi received from their agency, noting that it earned only a minuscule mention in the printed brochures about Tourism-Georgia I had reviewed.  After all, wasn’t the coast the most popular tourist destination in the country, I inquired?  The response pointed to the autonomous relationship the coastal region and the federal government shared; something about the professionals in Batumi marketing the region on their own.  I followed up with a few questions but was not gaining much satisfaction that there was anything but “official” communication between the two offices.  I promised them a copy of my report.  After that discussion we parted company warmly if not quite Facebook-friendly.  I was looking forward to seeing them again after my visit to Batumi.

Dimitri, Zviad, and I then adjourned to the Sheraton and consumed Georgian wine while watching rugby match-ups on the lounge’s big screen, including a particularly brutal bout between New Zealand and South Africa (just kidding: it was Ireland vs. Namibia, replayed from the night before).  After a light supper in the hotel, we were picked up and taken to the Tbilisi railway station (photo left) to board the Midnight Train to Georgia – no, actually it was the 22:30 overnight train to Batumi, Georgia (photo below)

Over the ten years prior to this visit, I had grown edgy when driving across a foreign country.  My first visit to Bulgaria in 1997 found me in a taxi in which I traversed the 325 miles from Burgas to Sofia in a dense fog (for that account please see Establishing a 1st Impression, posted to this site in November 2011).  I had experienced other driving experiences worthy of note but none as alarming as a 300-mile transit I made with my partner and Dr. Radev, from Bratsk to Irkutsk, Siberia in June 2003.  

On that death-defying journey, our taxi was entombed by 60-70 foot flames swallowing up the forest immediately proximate to the roadway – for almost two-thirds of the expedition – and seemed hotter than Lucifer and a furie fornicating in a furnace!  That trip is chronicled in Friday the Thirteenth, Part 13, Chapter Two, also on this site.  I really didn’t need any more hair-graying experiences, honestly.  I wanted to inspect the train system anyway, why not start out with an overnight trip in one direction and a daylight return?

Our clean and comfortable train arrived in Batumi (photo left) right on time; the station was modern and immaculately clean.  It was only a few minutes from the center of Batumi, so transfer to my beachfront hotel, the Intourist Palace (below), was a snap. 

         

A “beachfront hotel” in the meticulously thought-out coastal community of Batumi is a misnomer.  There is a ‘buffer zone’ of forest, pathways, gardens and entry colonnades dotted with cafes and bars, extending along pretty much the entire river-rock covered but enormously popular beach (all photos below).  

The Intourist Palace was (and is) a full-service property with attractive, large rooms and a friendly, knowledgeable staff.  The hotel team, like the border control agents, appeared to have been trained by the same hospitality consultants!  I especially liked being next to the soon-to-be Turkish Consulate, a historic building undergoing massive reconstruction and renovation.  It was a bit noisy, but I appreciated being able to witness munificent touristic work in process.

 

 Batumi is the principal city in the Autonomous Republic of Adjara, a part of Colchis and Caucasian
Iberia since ancient times. Colonized by Greeks in the 5th Century B.C., the region fell under Rome in the 2nd Century B.C. It became part of the region of Egrisi before being incorporated into the unified Georgian Kingdom in the 9th Century A.D. The Ottomans conquered the area in 1614 and the inhabitants of Adjara converted to Islam. The Ottomans were forced to cede Adjara to the expanding Russian Empire in 1878.

The status of the Adjaran Autonomous Republic today is defined by Georgian law and the region's new constitution, adopted in 2004. The legislative body of the Republic is Parliament. The head of the Republic’s government—the Council of Ministers of Adjara—is nominated by the President of Georgia who also has powers to dissolve the assembly and government as well as  to overrule local authorities on issues where the constitution of Georgia is contravened. 

The fact that Adjara is autonomous posed some perplexing questions with respect to funding and support for tourism brand promotion by the federal budget.  As I stated earlier, while in Tbilisi, I asked the representatives of the Georgian National Tourism Agency what level of support their office provided to Batumi as the primary leisure destination in his country.  The response, although forthright, missed the synergy mark required for successful tourism promotion.

I came to the supposition that autonomy in Georgia was a double-edged sword.  On one side, the autonomous region has the power to say no to embracing a tourism initiative proposed in the capital; On the other side, federal officials can place your needs at the bottom of the list of requests for support.  I knew I would have to make this dysfunctional relationship a key part of my report.

In July 2007, the seat of the Georgian Constitutional Court was moved from Tbilisi to Batumi, while unrelated to tourism development, it does demonstrate a commitment by the federal officials to embrace Adjara, if occasionally.  

 

A large part of Adjara is sub-tropical, where flora including banana, kiwi, and palms are in abundance.  The ruins of a Roman fortress at Gonio near the Turkish border are beautifully maintained and serve as the site of many weddings and very special events (photos above and right).

My mission in the Adjara Region was to observe, inquire, inspect, collect data, and provide a best practices / 1st Impression lecture for the inaugural members of the Adjara Tourism Association (in development at that time).  

I also met with Temur Diasamidze, then head of the Department of Tourism and Resorts of Adjara (regretfully, he was replaced as the director a little over a year ago and that position has again been vacated and re-filled).  I further visited with the senior management of the Silk Road Group (the pre-eminent Georgian investment consortium) in addition to venturing to many of the area attractions.  

My lecture was scheduled for the better part of a day at a venue not far from the Intourist Palace.  Upwards of forty tourism providers were present, most of them spoke pretty good English, and those that didn’t brought an interpreter who would whisper in their ear simultaneous to my discussion.  My talk was essentially a condensed version of the presentation in Reno, but there were several people who were in attendance in Reno and now had several months to masticate and regurgitate my rantings from that session.

During the lecture in Batumi, I was pleased to be able to re-establish contact with another of the people who attended the session in Reno, Dr. Gogi Gogitidze (with yours truly, left).

Gogi was born in Kobuleti, then a very small Soviet-inspired health spa destination; now a quaint full-service resort community that is located just about 15 miles north of Batumi.  He attended primary and secondary school in his home district and was then admitted to Kabardino-Balkaria State University in North Ossetia, Russian Federation, to study medicine.  He specialized in internal medicine and ultimately became the director of a medical spa resort on the Georgian Black Sea.  

According to Gogi, a tragic event occurred January 23, 1985 in Moscow, when Coca-Cola was granted a license to sell its products in the then-Soviet Union.  Up to that point, vodka was far and away the drink of preference, and Gogi, a learned as well as practical man, wasn’t categorically opposed to providing that particular beverage on a complimentary basis to his more comely guests. When the world’s leading soft drink brand was allowed entry into the Eastern Bloc, everyone wanted to drink Coke and nothing else.  Gogi is the single greatest detractor of Coca-Cola in the world today!

I suspect that Gogi left medicine to join the lodging industry after Perestroika, a causative agent affecting so many fine physicians and educators – there simply was not enough money to pay them all.  I clearly remember my sadness when, during a site inspection in Odessa, Ukraine, I learned that my driver had been a respected cardiovascular surgeon who simply couldn’t afford to care for his wife and three young children, so he took a position with the U.S .Embassy as a pool driver to survive. 

Dimitri, Zviad and I ventured north after the lecture and meetings to Kobuleti, intending to visit the guest house Gogi had created, taking in more spectacular Roman ruins along the way.   We stopped at an amazing hilltop restaurant overlooking the Georgian coastline whose sightlines were bereft of any construction north or south.  The food, of course, was extraordinary - Georgians consider their cuisine to be on a par with that of France, Italy, and Spain, and I’m not going to argue with them on that point. 

Gogi met us for an early supper at that café and brought about ten close friends with him.  After numerous toasts by our gracious and laudatory host, as well as some twelve different food offerings and a fair amount of superb Georgian wine, we continued on to Gogi’s guest lodge.

Driving in Georgia was a challenge, not that I had to get behind a wheel; the U.S. Embassy was kind in the provision of a car and driver for my entire visit.  But, I think I can say without qualification, that Georgians are singularly and collectively the very worst drivers in the world.  And they consider pedestrians to be marked as ripe for disassembly.  

Add to that the considerable number of farm animals that roamed all of the roadways with impunity, resulting in a heart-palpitating, terrifying experience. (In fairness, in recent years, the roaming free animal policy in the country has been modified to restrict farm livestock on main routes – now you can only find them running free on the heavily forested and winding mountain roads!).

Gogi’s labor of affection is a guest house that has seen a keen amount of tender loving care in its re-birth and upkeep.  It is a family-style destination, very close to the sea, and possessing a wonderful kitchen and bar.  

The nature within and across from the property is peaceful, the staff is helpful, and the fare accommodates the purses of a variety of travelers.  We enjoyed visiting with Gogi, his family and friends very much; we look forward to many future opportunities to do so again.

 

Chapter Two

Zviad, Dimitri and I paid our gracious respects to Gogi and family for their kind hospitality, and we headed, with our driver, back to Batumi.  It was my conclusive night in that attractive Black Sea coastal community.   On the following day, we would be journeying 230 miles to Tbilisi.   

I let it be known my discomfort at being a passenger in a car whizzing along in an unfamiliar territory, having lived through palpitating near-miss experiences in Bulgaria, Russia, and Serbia.   Our driver informed us that reaching our destination in Tbilisi the following day would take just over four hours depending on the number and length of the diversions we allowed.

Along the route from Kobuleti to Batumi, the region’s principal city, we passed through the periphery of the Adjara Botanical Gardens, the most extensive collection of flora in all the former Soviet Union (photo).  

We glided by numerous colorful bungalows, each with sheet or corrugated roofing set upon a wood frame, which appeared to be crafted in the early to mid-part of the 20th Century.  Their hues were brilliant, luxurious pastels reminiscent of similarly-aged enclosures in the Caribbean Islands and south Florida.  As far as I knew, there were no expeditions from earlier Adjara into the West Indies or vice versa.   How then, would this curiosity be explained?  

At the Port of Batumi, there is a café with a nautical theme, Sanapiro, possessing sea views that inspire lackadaisicalness, ennui, and abstraction (photo).  I noshed there with Zviad, Dimitri, and Temur, the director of the Adjara Tourism and Resorts Department two days prior, and appreciated both its epicure and the ambience of the setting.  

It didn’t help my mental state that the night sky over Batumi was perfectly clear and balmy, the company jovial, and the Georgian wine, well; it was inebriating!  We ordered the local catch of the day and let the chef surprise us with his or her selection of sauces to consort with the poisson (photo) and the distinctive vegetable side dishes.

After dinner, we adjourned to the Intourist Palace Hotel (photo) to lounge at the poolside patio and watch tourists and locals saunter by.  Our discussion focused on Zviad’s involvement in the Batumi International Art-House Film Festival (BIAFF), then in its second year, and coincidently, was concluding at the exact same time as my visit!       

Zviad was a founder of BIAFF, and it must have taken a consignment of mettle for him to abandon his obligations at the festival to shepherd me from hither to yon.  I noticed that he was taking an extraordinary number of calls on his mobile phone.   I thought that was simply the moniker of a wildly popular guy.   He is very well-liked, but his gracious management of this collision in his professional schedule demonstrated his elevated principles, and tenacity.    

We hurriedly said goodnight; thus allowing time for Zviad to, at the very least, attend the BIAFF closing ceremonies and celebrate its success with his colleagues.

The following morning we were to depart for Tbilisi at 9:00, allocating enough time for a leisurely drive to the capital.  This routing included a stop-off for lunch in the city of Kutaisi, about halfway through the journey.  It was essential that we arrive at the Sheraton by 17:00 or before as Bob and Todor would be inbound at that time.   All of us were joining U.S. Ambassador Tefft and his management team for dinner in the old city at 19:00.

Starting out in a northerly direction, we ventured through Kobuleti and a bit later turned east onto the main thruway to Tbilisi.  Livestock of every variety, from fowl to horses – hogs to sheep – goats to donkeys, were on the road along with us (photo). Zviad announced they were either walking off their breakfast or working up an appetite for lunch.  

Dimitri stated that the cattle and pigs on the road were called Shaslik, a spicy meat grilled sausage favored throughout Eastern Europe.  As we were moving forward at the breakneck speed of about thirty miles per hour, I muttered something like, “This will be the longest four-hour-plus drive in the history of travel.”    

We tried to keep our en-route pauses to a minimum, stopping only for necessity while purchasing some ‘drinking horns,’ a truly fascinating concept (photo). The horn, once filled with your favorite libation, cannot be docked with any flat surface without spilling its contents.  Horns can be elaborate or simple, real or synthetic. They all share one common cultural trait; one must drink from them until the bottom of the horn is dry.

The terrain was abundant with foliage of an iridescent green reminiscent of the Emerald City and conjuring a vision of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s color-wise symbol for growth, nature and spring in Gatsby’s new world.  The Caucasus Mountains to the north were splendidly rugged (photo), and the air was as translucent as my mother’s treasured Wedgewood goblets.  Other than the livestock, it was a good day to travel.  

Just short of reaching our luncheon destination, Kutaisi, I requested our driver brake the car.  Dimitri and Zviad were appropriately concerned because there was nothing on or alongside the roadway to warrant a stop (we had used the facilities at our drinking horn stop).  I told my hosts that I wished a moment to take in the peaceful vision before us – a plethora of livestock grazing ON its host’s fenced farmland, and not meandering along the roadway!  LOL.

We entered Kutaisi and were directed by Dimitri to the restaurant Hari Harale (photo) near the center of that historic city.  The café was of brick construction and upon entering, we took stairs downwards to the seating area and kitchen underground.  All the chairs were empty; the receptionist suggested we sit anywhere we wished.    

A pleasant looking man of middle age and wearing a long white apron was standing next to the kitchen doorway smoking a cigarette and sizing up his new customers.  Zviad, concerned because there were no other diners present, approached him and asked simply and to the point, “Does this restaurant serve tasty food?” (Or something to that affect…I told you in Chapter One that I didn't speak Georgian!)

The proprietor smiled at Zviad and told him not to worry – we would enjoy our meal.  And enjoy it, we did!

This was a meal so memorable that I have exhausted the maximum number of word-of-mouth commentaries (25) allowed by the American Marketing Association (AMA).  I’m just kidding; the actual number of mentions has been increased to 27 after a feisty debate by the AMA proletariat over the efficacy and endurance of the MySpace social network.

After we settled our account, we sincerely thanked the chef, waitress and receptionist and headed in an easterly direction once again.  Arriving in the town of Gori a little over an hour later and we paused briefly at the birthplace of Josef Stalin.   Born in that community on December 21, 1879, his simple house had been protected tomblike (photo) to ensure it would withstand all natural elements, possibly including a direct strike by a tornado.

Later during my visit, I was asked whether or not it was a sage idea to showcase the town of Gori and Stalin’s childhood home as a tourist attraction.  I answered by recalling what another colleague had asked me me regarding the naming of his soon-to-open nightclub, ‘Caligula’.    

In response to my colleague, I asked, “You wish to name a nightclub in honor of a psychotic fiend who impregnated his sister against her will, believing the offspring would become a god.   When he postulated that this new god would surely have superior powers to his, he killed his expectant sister and consumed her fetus to assimilate its supremacy!”  “What are you planning to do at this nightclub?”

I added, “Natural or man-made tragedies or the people that are responsible for them are not celebratory; great tact should be observed in respecting the victims and families of both tyrants and tsunamis.  There is no acceptable mechanism in our industry to justify or exemplify ‘Calamity Tourism.’”

In short, I advised my inquirer in Tbilisi, to “Show where Stalin was born and where he lived.  Make available his truthful biography for those who wish to learn more about him.  However, also pay honor to those who were terrorized under his hand and do not commercialize his early life in Georgia, benign or not.”

We continued on to Tbilisi, arriving at the Sheraton (photo) with plenty of time to spare before Bob and Todor arrived.  We returned to the front of the hotel when the car transporting them pulled to the curb.  Todor climbed out, was introduced to Zviad and Dimitri, shook hands all around and with a wide grin, asked me, “So, how do you like the food?”  Apparently, everyone knew of Georgia’s unblemished reputation for superlative comestibles but me.

Bob claimed his luggage from the car and greeted our hosts.  As a group, we entered the hotel lobby exchanging pleasantries, catching up on important news, and managing the registration errands.  After a few more moments of polite conversation, we ventured to our respective rooms to freshen up before dinner with Ambassador Tefft and his party.

The venue selected for that night’s reception, and dinner was the restaurant Kopala in Tbilisi’s old city (photo).  A more spectacular location could not have existed.  Upon arrival, the ambassador and his director of communications, Cynthia Whittlesey, greeted us warmly. 

They introduced to us several U.S. and Georgian government officials invited to help us more fully understand the spirit of Caucasian political, economic, and social fiber.  The dinner menu was, likewise, splendid, one that possibly bettered my glorification of this country's cuisine.  It was an excellent inaugural meal for Bob and reaffirmation of its quality for Todor.

Bob was the first (and only) ten-year governor of Nevada.  While he speaks many business tongues pretty fluently (gaming, law, mining, insurance, manufacturing), he is perhaps most persuasive in discussion and passionate about tourism. Visitation is the economic engine that propels Nevada, transforming it from a desert wasteland in the early 1900s into one of the top three tourist destinations on the planet, with 50-plus million inbound travelers in 2007.  

Bob’s tourism focus throughout his terms in office was to diversify the visitor-generated economy of the state.  That translated to mean re-shaping it from a dominant leisure (vacation) destination to one that embraced business, convention, retail, epicure, medico-spa, and recreational travelers as well as those who wished to explore the bountiful public lands' offerings prevalent in the state.  His specialty for this visit was governance and fabricating strong public-private partnerships.

Todor was the 15-year rector of the International University College in Dobrich, Bulgaria, a hospitality training institute that educated thousands of young people seeking advancement in an industry that is destined to become the primary employer in most nations on Earth (photo).  Todor earned his Ph.D. in economics before Glasnost and founded his institution in 1992.  His specialty for this assignment was forging human capital into effective weaponry used to deflect and defeat mounting competition.

I was the executive director of the Nevada Commission on Tourism until 2001, when I joined the management team at the $1.8 billion Lake Las Vegas Resort.  I also was a 10-year executive consultant to the State Department focusing on tourism development in Eastern European and Central and Eastern Asian countries.  

My recurring specialty was Best Global Tourism Practices, and Preparing the Infrastructure, Tourism Staff and Management to Achieve Positive First Visitor Impressions.  I also attempt to provide reasonable answers to intractable technical assistance questions regarding brand development and general organization.

Following dinner we returned to the hotel – Bob had traveled for approximately 26 hours, so he bid his farewell to us all and retired for the night; Todor, Dimitri, Zviad and I watched the rugby competition in the hotel lounge.  Wine anyone?

We were excited about the subsequent day’s activities.  We ramped up in the late morning to allow Bob additional time to adjust to the Georgian time zone (PDT +11).    

After an early lunch, Bob and I participated in a video-taped interview by a local business journalist for his nightly telecast.   We then visited, toured and observed the procedures of the Georgian Tourism Academy staff.    

Later, we attended a development briefing by the Silk Road Investment Group advancing its future projects in Tbilisi and Adjara.   Convening with Minister George Arveladze and Deputy Minister Vano Nakashidze from the Ministry of Economic Development, (both highly regarded advisors to President Saakashvili and considered by the US Embassy team as talented professionals), we delved full force into the meat of the day.

Our meeting with the minister focused on several key international investment points of interest, including: 

• Transparency in all domestic and foreign transactions, 

• Timeliness and necessity of application and permits processes, 

• Anti-corruption detection and enforcement,

• Applying standards of performance by permitting and inspection staff,

• Measuring veracity and employee competency,

• Examining the appropriateness of taxation / fee levels periodically, 

• Measuring customer satisfaction.

We were genuinely pleased with the dialogue, as we firmly shored up our confidence in the Saakashvili administration’s course to permeate the competitive barriers erected by western markets.  We expected the meeting to be relatively brief – but after almost two hours, we exchanged goodwill and farewells, tired but pleased with the interchange.  It was a good day!

The next day, Saturday, was seminar day.  Our presentations were scheduled from 10:00 to 16:00 at the Georgian American University (photo).  Fifty tourism executives, managers and entrepreneurs from Georgia forewent valuable time that could be spent in other pursuits to be brow-beaten by two Yankees and a clean-cut dissident Bulgarian intellectual.  

It was a spirited and engaging session. The audience spoke Georgian, Russian, and English (and likely other languages).  They were eager to grasp onto suggested public-private solutions to infrastructure, marketing, and promotional challenges.

We spent some time discussing the two autonomous regions in the northwest and north of Georgia, Abkhazia and South Ossetia, respectively.  At issue was the residual impact a continuing separatist dispute could have on inbound foreign tourism.  Each of us contributed to the response, with assistance from Zviad and Dimitri.

Georgia is a nation of proud people that remains in political transition, as do many of the former Soviet nations following 1989.  Strained relations between Georgia and Russia have been ongoing for centuries, principally because of the importance of the Caucasus Mountains for strategic defense. Imperial Russia likewise lusted to control the commercial ports along the Black Sea coast.  These magnets resulted in Czar Paul the First, declaring Georgia to be a part of his empire in 1801.  

    

Georgia ultimately proclaimed its independence from Russia in 1918, at the demise of the empire. Bolshevik forces invaded Georgian territory in 1921 and assimilated the country into the Soviet Union in 1922.   Prior to Perestroika, the Communist Party crafted an inspired ’system of autonomy,' resulting in the birth of three autonomous regions in Georgia: Abkhazia, South Ossetia and Adjara.  Some scholars suggest that this autonomous system was fashioned by the Communist Party leadership to threaten Georgians away from gravitating toward independence.                

Georgia did acknowledge this encumbrance when, reluctantly, it became a member of the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) in 1993.  The Rose Revolution, however, concluded its peaceful upheaval with the election of pro-western Georgian leadership in 2004.   

This became the lightening rod for striking new friendships with the United States, the European Union and ultimately NATO.  In retaliation for these friendly gestures and stating that Georgia could serve only one military, Russia blocked its market to Georgian exports in 2006.  

Later that year, Russia barricaded its border with Georgia. Russia's young allies, the separatist, autonomous and ethnic Caucasus regions of South Ossetia and Abkhazia, shortly thereafter followed suit by excluding Georgian’s entrance or passage.  

In 2008, Georgia withdrew from the CIS and entered into armed conflict with Russia over South Ossetia.  Facing a far superior force, the Georgians lay down their arms within days, signaling their willingness to end the confrontation.  

The after-effect of this military action was Georgia’s forfeit of 17% of its territory.  Russia and Nicaragua have since diplomatically recognized both separatist regions while the majority of world governments remain antithetical to that idea.

A negotiated compromise settlement appears to be in the best interests of the autonomous republics and Georgia.  This, before the republics lose their ethnic majority through emigration to safer havens, and the Caucasus lifestyle will be forever changed.

Unquestionably, the economic reality of an embargoed border closure with a once manifest trading partner is catastrophically debilitating.   Its adjuncts may not relent in exercising their evil intent to disrupt trade, commerce and tourism with even the friendliest of nations.       

While tension exists with any geo-political conflict, it is crucial in those times to demonstrate to both Georgia’s trading partners and prospective travelers the stability of the country’s infrastructure. Likewise, it is important for Georgia to showcase its ability to provide for the health and safety of its residents and guests. 

Demonstrating the logistical competence needed to successfully manage transportation systems and move people and goods is a critical step toward normalcy.  Lastly, the shoring up and adhering to contractual agreements with air carriers, passenger and freight ship lines, multi-national railways, motor coach operators, and forwarders should be given high priority.

As we all have learned in the past decade, no nation is safe at either the threat or reality of terrorism and malevolence.  The hallmark stabilities of a country’s leaders are measured by their skill at mitigating those abrogating circumstances that caused the conflict in the first place.  This must occur in tandem with the restoration of essential services and reclaiming of normal communication with its citizenry.

Bob echoed that if there exists a true partnership between the leaders in government (e.g., national, regional and local) and the suppliers of tourism (e.g., hoteliers, restaurateurs, airlines, and tour operators), the public is more accepting as genuine any published or spoken assurances of safety, access, and reliability.  

In these circumstances, public-private partnerships are mightily functional – enough so to restart a damaged economy in the least aggregate time. Numerous examples of this paradigm are readily available from powerful tourism producing states, many of which have recently undergone trauma and recovered from tragic circumstances.

It was for this reason that I raised the issue to the Georgia National Tourism Agency regarding it not collaborating closely with the Adjara Department of Tourism and Resorts.   An effective approach to brand marketing and promotion of the Georgian tourism experience cannot exist without that synergy.

Following the seminar, two reporters from the Georgia Today newspaper interviewed Bob and I to follow up on the synergistic aspects of effective tourism management.  We then toured the city before a light supper and more wine-spirited rugby match-ups.

On Sunday, we were off to wine country, ultimately to arrive at Telavi for a late luncheon at a featured winery.  Transiting to wine country in Georgia is a lengthy process, but an informative and culturally informative one.  

We passed through the town of Sighnaghi (photos), which was mid-stream in the process of a major renaissance aided by the State Tourism Department.  The remains of decay accumulated from 1918 were being ripped out and carted away, to be replaced with residences, shops, hotels, offices, parks and public spaces.  We spent time amidst the various township elevations to get a sense for the architects’ inspiration and energy; all in all, it was an impressive project.  

We then drove on to Telavi for a wine-country briefing, tasting, winery tour, tasting, snacks, tasting, luncheon, and some additional tasting!  Did I mention tasting?

The Georgian wine industry has a long tradition of producing delicate beverages from many of the more than 500 varieties of grapes it produces. This tradition dates back to a time before recorded history.  Evidence in archeological records, however, places Georgia as possibly the first wine-producing region in the world around 5,000 B.C.

About 12.5 million cases of wine are produced in Georgia each year, through approximately 174 square miles of vineyards under cultivation.   There are eighteen Specific Viticulture Areas (a local analogy of the Controlled Appellations of Origin) where the grape variety, planting density, and yield is strictly controlled.  By far, the most important of this is Kakheti, which produces 70% of all Georgian wine.

Grapes in Georgia are organically grown, and the wine is naturally produced.  Wines range from full-bodied to easy-to-drink, complex to simple, dry to semi-sweet, and vintage types vary from light whites to heady reds.  The names of the origin grapes are uniquely Georgian, making for an interesting and intoxicating tasting experience.  

The slippery slope came from competitive Western markets that selfishly and pompously disparaged Eastern European wines as not possessing a comparable production finesse to their own; refinements unabashedly bred from nurturing the palates of Royals and aristocrats for generations. 

Georgian wines, like those from other Soviet Bloc nations, were simply classified by international wine traders as ‘acceptable’ for ready consumption.   Party leaders never expected (or likely intended) the grape yield of Comrade Vintners to rise and be in direct competition with their Capitalist counterparts.  The loftiest of the Party elite had ready access to French, Italian and Spanish vintages.  Consequently, there was no investment in Georgian or Bulgarian oenology.                  

If one could, however, adjust the price-point barriers of unsullied international distribution, an effective return on investment could be plausible; alas, even though these were wholesome vineyards, they were without fine production distinctions; their owners did not possess new-market experience or have crafted relationships with investors who were willing to drive the placement of their product into regional and world markets.

Russia annually purchased 90% of the wines produced in Georgia and Bulgaria. Strained relationships between Russia and its former allies escalated in direct proportion to their embrace of Western European ideologies.  

The prevailing Georgian and Bulgarian wine export market was effectively terminated.   Georgia vintners rushed to advance new international sales, a thorny task under the best of circumstances, but especially daunting in light of the global financial crisis in which we have all become accidental tourists.

Following our briefing, tasting, and luncheon, we drove easily and somberly back to Tbilisi to consummate Bob, Todor’s and my final few hours in Georgia.  Zviad, Dimitri, and I shared a last supper in a uniquely reconstructed restaurant (formerly a 19th century river-barge warehouse) elevated slightly above the rhapsodic Karu River (photo).  It was an enjoyable meal, as was every meal in this country of gastronomic pleasures.  The camaraderie was inspirational.    

The optimism and strength of purpose exhibited by my colleagues Dimitri and Zviad were moving.  Even through economic and political difficulty, they embraced the future of Georgia with the gentle affection a parent gives to a newborn and the resolve of Michael Phelps aspiring for Gold.   At that moment and until I next set foot on Georgian soil, I anticipated future visits to this wonderful land – to re-establish direct contact with my friends and to continue absorption of its heritage.

Acknowledgements:  A special vote of thanks to my dear friends Zviad Elizani and Dimitri Rempel for organizing and orchestrating our visit.  Furthermore, to Gogi Gogitidze and his son Ruslan, a hearty thank you for providing so much of your time to assure our comfort and familiarity with Georgian customs.  

I thank Dr. Carina Black of the Northern Nevada International Center for introducing me to Dimitri and Gogi and other wonderful colleagues from Georgia.  Thank you also to Ambassador John Tefft for arranging the visit and to Christine Whittlesey for overseeing its agenda and all meetings.  Lastly, but not at all least, thank you to my partner Bob Miller and Dr. Todor Radev for placing this consult above so many other responsibilities on their respective plates. 


Zviad Elizani is the president of the Adjara Tourism Association, the co-founder and marketing manager of the Batumi International Art House Film Festival ( now in its seventh year), a consultant to the United NationDevelopment Program’s International Trade Promotion Center in Batumi, and a lecturer on marketing and tourism at the business college of Batumi State University. I’m proud to say that he remains my friend and colleague.

Today Dimitri Rempel lives in Berlin, where he is an independent marketing professional advising start-up firms and companies in need of his particular financial and market-development expertise.  He is also preparing to launch a socially ethical project focusing on social media and online business activities.  

When we renewed our pleasant acquaintanceship from Reno on Georgian soil, Dimitri was the vice chairman at International Business Development and Investment Promotion Center in Batumi.  I’m grateful that Dimitri and I have remained in close contact over the past five years and look forward to a continuing professional association.

Both of these gentlemen have and continue to contribute to the health of the Georgian economy and its cultural development and acceptance as a globally appreciated and respected tourism destination.