Georgia: The crossroads of smoke, spice, and wine

By Anton Constantinou

Novel destinations are hard to find these days. The world might be vast, but with so much of it on social media and in the news, it’s difficult to find places that feel undiscovered or mysterious. Georgia is one of those countries you don’t hear about too often – which, to a Westerner like me, meant little until I visited in October 2025.

A former Soviet country at the crossroads of Eastern Europe and Western Asia, Georgia lies in a part of the world I knew little about, yet is brimming with history, culture, and natural beauty.

My trip took me from the capital, Tbilisi, to the heights of the Caucasus Mountains, and on to the Kakheti wine region – famous for its ancient wine-making traditions. A feast for the senses, it introduced me to not only the sights and sounds of Georgia, but the distinctive aromas that make it such a memorable place.

Cigarette smoke: the first impression

The first thing that hits you when you land in Georgia – or rather, in its capital city, Tbilisi – is the smell of cigarette smoke. Unlike much of the Western world, where smoking indoors is banned or unfashionable, cigarette culture is alive and well in Georgia. Even at the airport, where smoking would be unthinkable in most countries, Georgians light up freely.

My girlfriend, a Lithuanian from another former Soviet country, attributes Georgia’s cigarette love to a mix of Soviet hangover – a habit that persists across the region – and its independence as a country, which has slowed its keeping up with Western declines in smoking. As I would soon discover, cigarettes aren't the only aspect of life here that feel out of step with Western life.

Sweet and fruity notes of the city

Fruity smells are another common aroma in Tbilisi. The city offers a combination of fruit trees and fruit-infused snacks and drinks that give it a distinctly sweet and syrupy smell throughout.

Its fruit trees bear everything from figs to plums and apples, while its fruity snacks include whimsical concoctions like Tklapi (fruit leather made from pureed and dried fruit) and Churchkhela (a sausage-shaped sweet made from nuts and thickened grape juice).

Our apartment had a fig tree nearby, which I discovered late at night on arrival after stepping on some fallen fruit – the fermented aroma was unmistakable, as I have a fig tree near my flat at home and know the smell intimately.

Of course, it’s hard to talk about fruit smells in Georgia without talking about its wine.

Wine in clay: Georgia’s ancient craft

Georgia, as I discovered, is one of the oldest wine regions in the world – with winemaking traditions dating back some 8,000 years. Its unique production of wine involves the use of qvevris (clay vessels) for fermentation and temperature control.

We did two wine tours during our stay: one in Tbilisi, where we explored a small market and sampled some local bottles, and another through the Kakheti region – Georgia’s celebrated wine centre.

The Tbilisi tour introduced us to chacha, a strong Georgian spirit that smells faintly of potatoes and tastes like paint stripper (think strong vodka or rakia), and to Chateau Mukhrani, one of Georgia’s top wine ranges with royal connections to one of its most esteemed families.

Our Kakheti tour took us through rolling hills and up the Caucasus Mountains, to a wine warehouse (KTW – Kakhetian Traditional Winemaking), a magnificent monastery (the Bodbe Monastery of St. Nino), and to the charming town of Sighnaghi.

The journey, as you can imagine, was a proper sensory experience – mountain air, farm smells, pine forests – all mingling with the promise of wine.

Between the two tours, we sampled 10 to 15 wines, ranging from dry whites to sweet reds. Since the tastings required us to drink rather than spit, there was potential to get very hammered, but we managed to keep our cool (just).

The green breath of trees

While urban and polluted, Tbilisi is a remarkably green city, with parks on virtually every corner – home to an abundant array of evergreen and deciduous trees. Many of these trees – some soaring up to 50 meters – fill the air with a rich, resinous scent that follows you throughout the city.

Cypress trees are especially noticeable and lend the city a crisp evergreen aroma. I also noticed juniper trees, whose fragrant, gin-like aroma made me feel oddly at home.

Market aromas and urban life

Tbilisi’s markets feel a bit like Istanbul’s: a mix of indoor and outdoor stalls selling everything from sweets to spices to bric-a-brac. As you wander them, you’re hit with the most colourful array of smells – spices, herbs, fish, fruits, vegetables, even leather goods.

Its spices and herbs smell strongly and take many forms, combining pungent notes of clove and cinnamon with greener wafts of parsley, tarragon and coriander. Tarragon, I discovered, is one of Georgia’s main herbs and is used extensively in Georgian cuisine. Known for its licorice-like smell, it brings an anisic sharpness to the nation’s dishes, elevating them in the most unexpected way.

With many of its markets running riverside (Tbilisi is bounded by the Kura River), they also carry a damp urban water smell. As a Londoner, I was instantly reminded of how the Thames smells on a cloudy day.

Smoke and spice: the scent of shashlik

Like many barbecue-loving nations, Georgians are passionate about shashlik – marinated and grilled skewered meat – and cook it all over the country, including in Tbilisi.

A common aroma in most Georgian restaurants, shashlik can be smelt all over the city and brings a smoky familiarity – a culinary reminder that the best dishes are often simple and born of fire and patience.

Roses by the monastery

One of the best aromas we encountered in Georgia was that of Rambling Roses. These colourful roses have a spicy fruitiness to them that smells like a cross between apple and clove.

We discovered them in the gardens of the Bodbe Monastery of St. Nino – a stunning religious site overlooking both the Caucasus Mountains and Georgia’s Alazani Valley – and were instantly taken by their vibrance. The flowers came in two shades, purple and peach, and looked incredible up close.

Like most sensory delights we came across on the trip, the roses were a fragrant reminder that Georgia, while beautiful to look at and listen to, is also a country defined by smells.

Final thoughts

So, there you have it – my smellscape of Georgia (or at least some of the country). Have you visited Georgia? If so, how does it smell to you? Are there aromas you’ve encountered there that I didn’t mention? If so, what are they?

Leave a comment below and let me know your thoughts.