FWT Chronicles – Georgia Edition #1 – Lost in the Caucasus

დაკარგული კავკასიაში [dakar'guli kavk'asiashi]

For the fourth event of the season, we travel to the most remote destination of the tour: Mestia, Georgia. The journey promises to be long and full of emotions. We invite you to join us on these Georgian adventures and hope that our words will convey our experience as vividly as possible.

Arrival in Tbilisi

It is 4:30 AM when we land at Tbilisi International Airport. Two planes have just arrived simultaneously, one from Munich, the other from Istanbul. The airport is buzzing with warm reunions among the video production team. Among the arrivals, a few riders stand out, notably Britta Winnans and Chloe Hehir, two American rookies coming straight from Canada.

In the baggage claim area, our group is easy to spot: we are the only ones retrieving a mountain of ski bags. The atmosphere is lively for such an early hour.

As we step into the arrival hall, we are greeted by David, our local guide, whose bright smile warms the atmosphere despite the -10 degrees Celsius outside. "Welcome to Georgia, my friends, good to see you back! We are so lucky to have you here," he says with a thick Eastern European accent.

Before setting off, we take care of some logistical details: adjusting our watches to local time (three hours ahead of Switzerland), collecting SIM cards, and withdrawing the local currency, GEL. A small hiccup: Britta's bank card gets swallowed by the ATM. Potentially a major problem for the next fifteen days… Luckily, David pulls out his phone and, after a few calls, reassures us: the card can be retrieved, but it will take some patience.

On the Road to Mestia

Eight of us squeeze into a van that struggles to fit all our gear. The ski bags double as armrests for the eleven-hour journey ahead. Exhaustion quickly takes over, and we drift off to sleep.

An hour later, we wake up at a roadside stop. A multi-purpose convenience store—gas station, bakery, café, and ATM—stands out in front of us. The first aisle upon entering: alcohol. The tone is set. We discover two-liter bottles of beer, an intriguing local eccentricity.

It is also our first taste of Georgian cuisine. We buy khachapuri, ხაჭაპური in Georgian, bread filled with various ingredients: cheese, ham, mushrooms, meat, or onions. I opt for the potato version.

Back on the road, darkness surrounds us. Our driver, a true rally pilot, speeds down bumpy roads. Sleep takes over again.

When I open my eyes, everything is covered in a thick layer of snow: houses, cars, sidewalks. The landscape is picturesque, dotted with abandoned buildings, skeletal concrete structures, and rusting power lines. A surprising detail: palm trees in many gardens, now blanketed in snow. A surreal sight.

We drive on until lunchtime. The restaurant, lost amidst former sawmills, is run by a mother and daughter. A recently lit stove struggles to warm the spartan interior. A framed picture of Paris hangs on the wall, oddly out of place in this remote setting. A quick restroom break leads me through a snowy backyard to a set of basic Turkish toilets—no surprises there.

Our drivers are served tea and khachapuri, while we watch, amused, as they quickly devour their meal. The mood is lighthearted, filled with the wonder of our new surroundings.

Back on the road, we enter the mountains. We follow a snow-covered river, passing a few 4x4s but mostly stray dogs and wandering cow herds. Jonas, our Swiss digital manager, observes the snow and comments in his distinct accent: "It’s very white." Federico, our graphic designer, is as excited as a child on Christmas Eve, thrilled by the winter scenery. We need a name for this Georgian powder snow—Geopow?

The kilometers and hours pass slowly as anticipation builds.

Arrival in Mestia

Finally, after an endless series of curves, Mestia emerges. Its iconic Svan towers, dating back to the 10th century, appear through the snowstorm. The town is more lively than expected. Unlike the lonely road behind us, here, everything is bustling with preparations for the event. The central square, Seti Square, is abuzz with activity: green and red Freeride World Tour banners line the streets.

With 55 members from the organization, 50 riders, their coaches, media teams, and journalists, we form an invading army. The town seems ready for us.

The hotel is a welcome refuge. Under the falling snow, we unload our bags and rush into our rooms—warm islands in the Georgian blizzard.

First Evening in Mestia

After settling in, we head to our temporary office for a meeting with the local team. The mood is upbeat despite the unpredictable weather, which might extend our stay.

Then, it’s off to the welcome dinner. In a local restaurant, two long tables await us, filled with traditional dishes: meat stews, beets, and other specialties. A Georgian folk band livens up the evening.

Toast time arrives. Nicolas Hale-Woods, CEO of the FWT, and Irakli Burthculadze, Director of Georgia’s ski resorts, raise their glasses with a shot of tchatcha, ჭაჭა, the local spirit. Not for the faint-hearted!

Leaving the restaurant, we walk through the village under the glow of the illuminated Svan towers. A magical sight.

The first day comes to an end. After 24 hours of travel and nearly 5,000 km covered, our Georgian adventure begins on the best possible note.