Mamkoda Monastery

Just beyond the northern outskirts of Tbilisi lies a quiet and picturesque haven—an ideal retreat for those seeking to contemplate nature’s beauty and escape the clamor of city life. Centuries ago, Christian monks came to the same conclusion when they first established a monastery at this tranquil site. This is Mamkoda Monastery, named after the nearby village that shares its name.

Secluded, difficult to reach, and deeply peaceful, the monastery feels purposefully hidden from the world. It sits apart from any major roads, a place you cannot simply stumble upon by chance—it must be sought out with intention. Tourists are rare here. Perhaps this is how a monastery should be: set apart, protected by solitude.

The monastery is enclosed by a sturdy stone wall. Within its grounds stand two churches—one a modest, domeless chapel with a bell tower, the other a domed Church of St. George—as well as a bell house, the monastic quarters, a viewing platform, and several small utility buildings.

The complex comprises the Church of St. George and the Church of the Holy Mother of God. Although these structures were erected in the 19th century, the origins of the monastery date back some sixteen centuries earlier. To this day, remnants of earlier buildings can still be seen scattered across the grounds, silent witnesses to a long and storied past.

The name “Mamkoda” translates to “pain of the heart,” and is forever tied to the memory of King David Agmashenebeli of Georgia. This region suffered repeated invasions over the centuries; its people were brutally tortured and slain, their homes set ablaze. According to legend, when King David arrived and saw the charred remains of the villages, he exclaimed, “Human grief has beheaded my heart.” It is also said that he prayed here on the eve of battle, seeking divine strength.

Before the rise of Soviet power, the monastery operated a hospital within its walls. However, between 1921 and 1924, all of the nuns were forced to relocate to Mtskheta. The monastery fell into a state of abandonment, ravaged by looting and neglect. It remained deserted for decades—until 2006, when a complete restoration began. Today, Mamkoda Monastery stands renewed, with monastic cells built anew and the grounds carefully maintained, paved with tidy stone walkways.

Visitors come to Mamkoda in search of silence and solitude. The atmosphere is deeply calming, as though the very air invites reflection. The carefully tended grounds are perfect for slow, meditative walks, while the surrounding scenery offers vistas of quiet majesty.

From the monastery walls, one can admire sweeping views of the Gldaniskhevi River valley and the verdant hills that rise around it in soft, green waves. Time itself seems to pause here, and you may find yourself wanting to pause with it—sitting at the edge of a slope, letting the warm sunlight brush against your cheeks, drawing a deep breath of the sweet air, and listening… simply listening to the silence.