Tbilisi

What is the first image that comes to mind when you think "Tbilisi"? Some far away city nested in the Caucasus left with the residue of a giant piece of metaphorical Soviet graffiti touting "We were here."?

You wouldn't be far off with that thought. The Soviets were definitely there, but perhaps not to the same extreme as other countries. As any history buff will know Josef Stalin hailed from Georgia. We all know how good political leaders are to their homelands (ask Jean Chretien), so it was no surprise that Mr. Stalin kept Tbilisi in rather original condition. Well, that was until Krushchev came on the scene and scattered apartment block after apartment block on the outskirts of the city. Georgians lined up in droves to thank the late Soviet leader for that, I'm sure.

Tbilisi now represents the Prague of the Caucasus; a dirtier, not-preserved, "I can't get no EU money" version of Prague. Its European "heart" has remained untouched, so there is no evidence of symmetrical Soviet planning. Perhaps the Soviets looked at the hilly nature of the city and decided to give up. If it isn't flat, they thought, why bother? Let's just put up a big unknown soldier monument on the top of the nearest mountain and call it a day. All in agreement, say "Da."

A beautiful river runs right through the middle of the city. It's banks have been developed to include housing in on part that literally leans out over the water. If there is one major difference, however, between Tbilisi and Prague, it's that the former has road on either side of the river, whereas the latter has none (the preferable option, in my opinion).

Where Tbilisi takes Baku and publicly stones it to death is ambience. Baku, pretentious and fake in all its Dubai-esque glory, feels cold and square. Tbilisi, relaxed and modest in its medieval European splendor, tells you "this is who I am. If you don't like it, go somewhere else."

That's my kind of city.