아자라 자치 공화국 최고의 워킹 & 하이킹 경로

Beautiful figures on the promenade

Very nice promenade

Anyone strolling along the waterfront in Batumi will at some point encounter two steel figures moving slowly – toward each other, through each other, and away from each other. Their names are Ali and Nino. And although they consist of nothing but horizontally layered steel ribs, they tell one of the most touching stories this city has to offer. The sculpture was created in 2010 by the Georgian artists Tamar Kvesitadze and Paata Sanaia and is based on the novel of the same name by Kurban Said. It is about an impossible love: He, a Muslim Azeri from Baku. She, a Georgian Christian from Tbilisi. Between them: history, religion, war. And yet also closeness, tenderness – and the attempt to build bridges. That is precisely what this sculpture does: It brings the two together – and then separates them again, in an endless mechanical cycle. The spectacle lasts around ten minutes, but in motion, it feels like an entire film. A visit at dusk is particularly impressive: the sculpture then glows in changing colors, while behind it the Black Sea slowly disappears into the darkness.

In the middle of Batumi's waterfront promenade, a structure stretches into the sky, oscillating somewhere between a space radar, a DNA double helix, and an LED art object: the Alphabet Tower. Anyone approaching the 130-meter-high steel giant must first orient themselves – and perhaps ask themselves: Is this art, science, or an oversized jumble of letters? The tower is indeed a homage to the Georgian alphabet – one of the oldest and most independent writing systems in the world. The 33 illuminated letters spiral around the tower's skeleton, reminiscent of a DNA helix. A clear message: language and identity are inextricably linked. The fact that this message is presented here in neon and glass is typical of Batumi – a place that likes to make everything a bit more colorful, garish, and spectacular. At the top of the tower is a glass sphere with an observation deck and – at least temporarily – a café. The elevator takes visitors comfortably to the top, but service is not guaranteed. Those who dare to climb (and are lucky with the opening times) will be rewarded with a magnificent panoramic view of the Black Sea coast, the promenade and the playful urban chaos of the city.

You don't necessarily come to Batumi to admire bronze. And yet, you'll want to pause here: Two slender figures, almost as if fashioned from wire, lean toward each other. Between them: no words, just a shared heart made of hands. The sculpture "First Love" stands directly on the pebble beach—where the wooden plank path out of the city ends and the Black Sea begins. It's a simple yet powerful image. Especially backlit—when the sun sets exactly where the fingers touch—the motif becomes a true postcard image. No pomp, no pathos, no bronze glory. Simply two people truly seeing each other for the first time. No Instagram filters.

If you're looking for a place where you can capture Georgia's contradictions in a photograph, this is the place. The Black Sea stretches out before you, calm or turbulent, depending on the day. Behind it, the skyline of Batumi rises, as if Las Vegas had married an architectural firm from Baku. In front of it: the wooden pier. Simple, functional, weathered at the edges, but solidly built. It leads a short distance out onto the water—not far, but far enough to leave everything behind for a few minutes. The shore is lined with umbrellas, beach bars, and stalls selling beer, roasted corn on the cob, sunscreen, and unicorn-shaped inflatable rings. If you prefer a quieter setting, it's best to come in the morning or off-season. The view of the city is particularly clear then, and the light plays off the facades of the high-rise buildings, as if it briefly forgets that most of them are still under construction.

A narrow path winds through lush green hillside vegetation, along the steep coast, and ends in a view almost worthy of a film. The view sweeps from dense walls of foliage down to the Black Sea, which stretches in endless tranquility along the Georgian coastline. Below, the railway line winds its way, and with a little luck, a train might glide through the landscape – like something out of an old travel brochure. The viewpoint is somewhat hidden, but it's signposted and easily accessible. Especially in the morning or late afternoon, when the light is slanted, this place unfolds its full magic. Ideal for a short break – with a bench, camera, or just some time. Tip: Sturdy shoes are helpful; the path can be slippery, especially in wet weather. And those interested in geology, vegetation, or the romance of railways will be doubly rewarded here.

Anyone who wants to not only breathe deeply but also reflect in the Batumi Botanical Garden should take time for a detour to the Red List Plant Trail. This small, unpretentious path is slightly hidden in the upper part of the garden – and leads right into the quiet urgency of nature conservation. Along the narrow path, discreet signs not only name plants, but also tell stories: of rare plants, of habitats that are disappearing, and of attempts to counteract their disappearance. Over 150 endemic plant species in Georgia are considered endangered – here, the abstract term "Red List" suddenly takes on very concrete leaves, colors, and shapes. What can I expect? A simple, easy-to-follow nature trail with explanatory stations. The plants seem unspectacular – but if you read up on them, you'll quickly realize: Something precious is growing here. Species such as Daphne adenantha and rare ferns are not only botanically fascinating, but also symbolic of what's at stake. Practical Information The path is part of a signposted network of paths in the garden and can easily be integrated into a 1.5- to 2-hour circular walk. Sturdy footwear is recommended, especially after rain. Shade is plentiful, and seating is scarce – but not necessary: the path thrives on slow walking.