After reviewing the horrendous prices from the travel company, we decided that we had to bite the bullet and just do it. Our options to try to navigate on our own with limited information would have been a disaster. So, we held our nose and took out our credit card. Later, we actually registered at the U.S. Embassy (a first in all of our travels).
A pretty relaxed day, we ended up at the “yellow” recommended restaurant sitting outside in their terrace. We still weren’t sure if this place was really a restaurant or just a front for some other business (Georgian mafia?). We sat and watched the scene in the evening: police arrived and checked out the entire place. Then, “Mr. Pink” arrived with his entourage and his 30-year-old girlfriend dressed in a very revealing black number. The police stood guard outside the entire time.
At another table, there was a group of drunk Georgians all making toasts to “Mr. Big” while he talked on his cell phone. When he stood up to leave, he practically fell over and his buddies helped him stagger to his car. After they left, it was amusing to watch the cleanup crew clearing the table and grazing on the leftover food.
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