Tim recounts a tale from a three-week hike in Adjara last year when Georgian hospitality rescued him from bad weather. During his stay with a local family, he drank many cups of wild blueberry leaf tea, gathered in the surrounding mountains.

One of my favorite memories connected to Georgian hospitality – and to our delicious tea – happened in July 2020. I was towards the end of a three-week hiking trip through the Adjara-Meskheti Range, the rolling green mountains which spread across the southwest of Georgia. Although remote and alpine, this area is actually relatively populated in the summer months, as the rainy, tropical maritime climate and easy terrain create excellent pasture for livestock.

The locals have constructed extensive summer villages all throughout these mountains. They spend months of the year living at high elevations with their whole families (kids not being in school during the summer) and their large herds of cattle, producing high-quality milk, cheese, cream, butter, and yogurt all summer long.

Besides cows and cowboys, these mountains are full of wild blueberry bushes. It was likely here that fermented wild blueberry leaf tea was first invented. Adjarian mountaineers have been enjoying blueberry leaf tea for countless generations.

The rainy, tropical conditions that make this range of mountains so good for cattle make it just as challenging for hiking, although the terrain is easy and non-technical; simply, if you go hiking here, you must expect that your days of trudging through a dreamy, damp cloud, only able to see the luscious green grass a few metres ahead of you, will certainly outnumber the days of the fantastic fairytale views that this region can offer on clear days. 

In my three weeks of hiking, I had been relatively lucky. I walked through quite a number of showers but also enjoyed plenty of sun mixed up with the rain. As I started the last leg of my hike, making the crossing from Bakhmaro to Gomismta, I observed that we were due for several days of quite heavy rain. Not entirely sure what I was planning, I made my camp only half a day's hike from my final destination at Chinchao Lake, and waited for the storm.

The next day, I sat in my tent as it poured outside and contemplated my options. I wasn't too keen on walking the last eight miles to Gomismta in such drenching conditions. Staying in my tent for a few days was doable - I had plenty of food - but I knew I would become bored and restless. I had noticed that a small summer village was located on the other side of the hill from the lake - so I decided that it was an appropriate moment to claim traditional hospitality.

Although all Georgians are renowned for their welcome of guests, there is something really special about the kindness of the Adjarian highlanders: they have some secret way of making a guest truly feel at home instantly. So it was without much trepidation that I slogged my way over the hill and down to the collection of houses on the other side. I made my way to the one that had smoke rising from its chimney and climbed the stairs to knock on the door. (In these mountains, families live on the second floor of the house, while their animals live below them on the first floor). 

The door was opened to me by a young family: a man, his wife, their three kids, and his wife's sister. Why had it taken me so long to arrive, they asked? They had seen me making the camp the night before and scolded me for being shy to come by. They seated me directly on a stool in the warmest part of the room - the tiny corner space between the huge iron stove and the wall, and I quickly began to dry out and warm up. Pots and pans emerged and within minutes a thick, sweet Turkish coffee was bubbling on the stovetop, next to a sizzling dish of borano, a true local specialty -- fresh cheese cooked in melted butter.

So began two days up in the cabin with an exceedingly kind family. I played games with the kids and chatted about life with the adults as the rain fell steadily. Alongside endless cups of Turkish coffee, they also brewed blueberry leaf tea which they had personally gathered from the mountainside and prepared with the traditional recipe. Although blueberry leaf tea is delicious in any circumstance, there is something really special about drinking it at 2,400 metres of elevation on the very mountain that it was picked from. The clarity of the flavour was accentuated by the rich pureness of the fresh bread, cheese, and butter that constituted the bulk of every meal

After two days the rain let up, although a cloud still hung over the mountain, wrapping the horizons in mystery. I said goodbye to my new friends, to the kids and the cows and the warm stove which kept the house so cosy and walked back over the hill to pack up my sodden tent. New adventures await...