Tusheti

It might seem that there’s nothing new left to discover about Georgia. This land of generous sunshine, towering mountains, and heady wines has long since revealed its charms to travelers. Its winding roads and alpine paths have been thoroughly explored, its iconic landmarks — the cliffside monasteries and ancient cave dwellings — are etched into every guidebook. Add to that the famously warm-hearted people and sumptuous cuisine, and you have a country that appears to have no more secrets to unveil.

And yet, there exists a place in Georgia where the familiar tropes of travel vanish. No domed monasteries perched on hillsides. No wineries greeting you at every bend. No mustachioed Georgian beckoning you into a restaurant to sample khinkali. Getting here is difficult — and dangerous. For nine months of the year, the road is impassable. Those who live here are cut off from the amenities of modern life, still building their homes from stone, as their ancestors did for centuries.

Welcome to Tusheti — the most remote and enigmatic region of Georgia. Perched high in the Caucasus, near the border with Dagestan and Chechnya, Tusheti is a land apart. Reaching it is no small feat, but for those who make the journey, the hardships melt away in the face of breathtaking beauty.

The gateway to Tusheti is the village of Pshaveli, the last settlement before the ascent begins. Here, you can hire a jeep or book a guided tour with a local driver. While it’s technically possible to complete the trip there and back in two days, be prepared for a demanding ride: the 70-kilometer route takes around six hours — one way. The road is a narrow, serpentine track, often without guardrails. Only the first 15 kilometers retain any trace of asphalt, and even that is frequently eroded by mountain streams. Beyond that, the terrain turns to raw earth, littered with tight hairpin turns. It’s a treacherous path best navigated by locals familiar with every twist and landslide-prone curve.

As you make your way to Omalo — Tusheti’s main village — every kilometer is a spectacle. Here, nature reigns, unspoiled by human interference. Waterfalls cascade right onto the road. Rockfalls are common, often requiring you to step out and clear the way by hand. On the high mountain passes, snow lingers well into August. Raging alpine rivers still overflow their banks late into the summer. This is why there are no paved roads here. This is why access is cut off from October to June.

And this is exactly why Tusheti is so mesmerizing — for nine months of the year, there is almost no one here.

Due to its isolation and harsh climate, Tusheti is only truly habitable during summer. In winter, most Tushetians descend to the Alazani Valley and Shiraki Plain. Only about 30 families remain in Omalo; in the villages of Shenako and Dartlo, just two and one, respectively, endure the cold.

So, what is it about Tusheti that justifies the long and perilous journey?

First, it is the feeling of complete disconnection from civilization. For a modern city dweller — someone more accustomed to viewing the world through a monitor than through their own eyes — this is a jarring but exhilarating return to reality. You witness people living, quite literally, as if it were the Middle Ages — and doing so with contentment, even joy.

It is a rare chance to be alone with your thoughts. Here, distractions are few, and silence reigns.

Second, there is the untamed grandeur of the natural world. Towering 4,000-meter peaks capped in snow, endless rock ridges, thunderous waterfalls, and swift, ice-cold blue rivers stretch in every direction. Adventure abounds: horseback rides, ATV excursions, and trekking tours lead into the uncharted wilderness.

And third — perhaps most awe-inspiring of all — is the architecture. In this remote terrain, the people of Tusheti constructed their famed defensive towers as early as the Middle Ages. These robust, soaring stone structures still stand as testaments to human perseverance, engineering genius, and artistry. Built without mortar, yet enduring centuries of wind, rain, and isolation, they speak to a people who have never lost their connection to the mountains — or their pride.

The Tushetian tower rises like a sentinel of stone, its tapered roof giving the illusion of both elegance and strength. These architectural marvels often reach heights of 10 to 15 meters, and what makes them truly extraordinary is that they are built entirely of stone. Local blue slate, abundant in the surrounding mountains, served as the sole building material—replacing bricks, concrete, and even mortar. Georgian craftsmen, with a meticulousness that borders on artistry, hand-selected each piece of slate, shaping it when necessary to fit perfectly like a puzzle piece. The stones were laid with such precision that no binding agent was needed—their weight and placement alone hold the structure together. Imagine the sheer craftsmanship required to build such a home from practically nothing—a process so delicate it borders on the work of a jeweler.

The function of Tushetian towers parallels that of the famed Svan towers of Svaneti. Both are defensive structures, yet the Tushetian ones were crafted with unmatched care. Their primary role was to serve as an early-warning system. When a watchman in the tallest tower spotted enemy forces, he would light a fire whose glow would signal other towers across the valleys. Without telecommunication or modern alarms, entire communities could be alerted in minutes through this ancient chain of fire—a testament to the ingenuity of those who lived in these remote highlands.

Today, a few of these towers in Tusheti have been opened to visitors. Climbing inside, one can witness firsthand how life unfolded within these walls. The interior living quarters are surprisingly compact—roughly three by three meters on each floor. The ground floor typically served as a stable, housing sheep or cattle, while the second and third floors were designated as living spaces.

What’s remarkable is how, despite their medieval setting, the Tushetians have embraced fragments of modern technology. While no power lines stretch into these parts and no power stations exist, and generators are prohibitively expensive, solar panels have made a quiet entrance into Tushetian life. Though costly to install, they offer a practical energy solution. Nevertheless, refrigerators are rare, and one should not expect stable access to the internet. Occasionally, a faint mobile data signal from Georgian providers appears, but it is fickle, easily disrupted by weather and limited infrastructure. Mobile service, too, is erratic at best.

Yet, isn’t that the beauty of it? To step away from the noise and conveniences of modernity, to venture far beyond the comfort zone and find peace in simplicity. To dwell in a place that feels timeless, a place that forces reflection on everything we often take for granted—solid walls, running water, the flick of a light switch. It’s here, amid the echoes of a nearly medieval lifestyle, that one begins to truly appreciate the luxuries of the present. And perhaps that is life’s greatest lesson—recognizing the value in what we already have.

Tusheti is not for the faint-hearted. But for those who dare to venture into its highlands, the reward is an encounter with something pure, elemental, and timeless — Georgia, as it once was, and perhaps as it was always meant to be.

But Tusheti offers more than stone towers and solitude. It is also a land rich in traditional crafts and flavors. The region is famed for its woolen goods—burki (felt cloaks), bashlyki (woolen hoods), and chita (hand-knitted slippers adorned with colorful patterns). And then there’s the cuisine. Tushetian khinkali, infused with mountain herbs, are considered among the tastiest in all of Georgia. No visit is complete without sampling Guda, the local sheep’s cheese aged in sheepskin, and Aluda, a traditional Tushetian beer with a taste reminiscent of fermented bread or kvass.

The tourist season in Tusheti begins in late May and lasts until the end of September, coinciding with the period when the Abano Pass remains open. Beyond these months, access to Omalo—the heart of Tusheti—is cut off, as the pass becomes impassable under deep snow. The most favorable weather for hiking in Tusheti typically falls between June and mid-August, offering mild temperatures and clear skies ideal for trekking across the region’s rugged terrain.

If your time is limited, it’s technically possible to complete a round trip to Tusheti’s capital in just two days. Although the distance from Kvemo Alvani to Omalo is only around 70 kilometers, this journey can take a minimum of six hours one way. And what a journey it is—one that’s likely to remain etched in your memory for years to come. However, to truly savor what Tusheti has to offer, plan to stay at least three to four days. This way, you’ll have time to explore the ancient Keselo Fortress and visit other captivating villages such as Shenako, Dartlo, and Kvavlo—each steeped in history and traditional Tushetian charm.

Getting to Tusheti is no small feat. To begin with, there are no paved highways leading into the region, nor is there any regular public transportation service—no buses or minibuses connect Tbilisi or Telavi directly with Omalo.

The only existing road into Tusheti was carved out in 1975: a gravel and dirt track winding over the Abano Pass (2,850 meters above sea level), linking the Kakhetian village of Pshaveli with Omalo. Today, it remains the sole motorable route into the region.

For the adventurous, there is an alternative: a marked trekking trail that leads into Tusheti from neighboring Khevsureti. This demanding hike begins in the Khevsur village of Shatili and ends in Omalo, taking five to six days to complete. Though challenging, it is widely regarded as one of the most beautiful long-distance trails in Georgia.

Returning to the Pshaveli–Omalo road—also known colloquially as the “Tusheti Highway”—it is a dramatic 70-kilometer stretch of narrow mountain serpentine. The road features no guardrails, and in many places, it is eroded by landslides, rain, and seasonal floods.

Breathtakingly scenic yet undeniably perilous, this route has gained global notoriety: a BBC documentary once ranked it among the ten most dangerous roads in the world. Moreover, the road is generally passable only from mid-May through the end of September, when snow conditions at Abano Pass are manageable. For the rest of the year, Tusheti is effectively sealed off from the outside world.

A word of caution: it is strongly discouraged to attempt this road in your own vehicle, no matter how rugged your SUV may be or how confident you are behind the wheel. The risks are real and significant. A safer and far wiser option is to hire a local driver—usually for around 50 GEL—who knows every twist and turn of the road. Should you choose to drive yourself, be aware that there are no fuel stations on the route, so you’ll need to bring extra gasoline in canisters, ideally filled in Telavi.

If you’re traveling independently from Tbilisi, start by taking a marshrutka (minibus) from Ortachala Bus Station to the Kakhetian village of Kvemo Alvani. From there, shared taxis operated by local residents can take you to Omalo. Marshrutkas to Kvemo Alvani typically run three times a day—at 9:10 AM, 1:40 PM, and 4:10 PM. Note, however, that due to rockslides, floods, or avalanches, the mountain section of the road may occasionally be closed. It is best to check road conditions in advance by calling the following numbers:
0322457494 (Kakheti ticket office, Ortachala Bus Station) and
0322753433 / 579551120 (Ortachala central information desk).

Another viable option is to travel to Telavi and inquire at your guesthouse or hotel. In 9 out of 10 cases, they’ll immediately recommend a trusted local driver with a 4×4 who regularly transports tourists to Omalo. The cost from Telavi is generally the same as from Kvemo Alvani. Alternatively, you can take a marshrutka from Telavi to Kvemo Alvani and arrange transport on-site. If you’re traveling solo or as a pair, be prepared to wait a bit, as the driver may want to fill the vehicle with other passengers before departing.

Each major village in Tusheti has at least one or two guesthouses—small, family-run accommodations that welcome travelers with warm, down-to-earth hospitality. Some of these guesthouses are located within historic Tushetian towers, offering an authentic, if somewhat spartan, lodging experience. Others are set in traditional local homes, where owners rent out several rooms to visitors. This option tends to be more comfortable and better equipped with modern conveniences.

While amenities in Tusheti are basic, staying in a guesthouse gives you an unmatched opportunity to immerse yourself in the region’s culture, enjoy homemade Georgian meals, and experience life in one of the most remote and enchanting parts of the Caucasus.