The Bridge of Peace
Best for a first orientation to the city
Completed in 2010 to a design by Italian architect Michele De Lucchi, the Bridge of Peace curves 150 metres across the Mtkvari on twin boomerang-shaped steel supports that never touch the water, roofed in a glass canopy strung with roughly 1,240 LED lights. It was commissioned in the aftermath of the 2008 war as a literal and symbolic reconciliation of the two riverbanks, and locals nicknamed it — not always kindly — for its sanitary-pad silhouette. The nickname stuck, and so, eventually, did affection for the bridge itself. Cross it at blue hour, when the internal lighting turns the glass into a floating ribbon, and the view does the explaining: Narikala Fortress rises on one bank, the Presidential Palace's glass dome catches the last light on the other, and the Old Town's tiled roofs run down to the water between them. It is the clearest single vantage point on what this walk is about.
Rike Park
Best for families and evening strolls
Rike Park is the flat, landscaped riverside ground the Bridge of Peace lands on, part of the same wave of 2010s civic redevelopment that gave Tbilisi its cable car and much of its contemporary skyline. It functions less as a manicured showpiece than as a working public space: skateboarders use its ramps, families use its open lawns, and chess players use its fixed tables most afternoons. What makes it worth pausing in rather than just crossing is the sightline it offers back toward the bridge and the Old Town rising behind it — a view that reverses the one you get standing on the bridge itself, and at night, with the bridge lit and Narikala floodlit above the rooftops, it's one of the more striking free views in the city.
Narikala Fortress and the Rike cable car
Best for panoramic views
From Rike Park, a cable car (2.5 GEL) lifts you in minutes to Narikala Fortress, a citadel with roots as a 4th-century Persian stronghold, expanded over seventeen centuries by Arab, Mongol, and Georgian rulers before an 1827 munitions explosion shattered much of its structure. What survives commands one of the region's great urban views: the Mtkvari bending below, the domed roofs of the Abanotubani bath district, and the gold-domed Holy Trinity Cathedral rising on the opposite hill. The rebuilt St. Nicholas Church inside the fortress walls (1996, replacing a version demolished under Soviet rule) is worth the short walk up, but the real reason to make this leg of the trip is the vantage: this is where the whole logic of the walk — old citadel, new bridge, riverside park — resolves into a single view.
Metekhi Church and cliff terrace
Best for history and quiet
Across the river and a short walk upstream from the bridge, Metekhi Church has stood on its sheer cliff above the Mtkvari since the 13th century, built by King Demetrius II as both sanctuary and stronghold. It survived Mongol and Persian destruction and a Soviet-era plan to raze it for a theatre. The interior is modest, holding fragments of original frescoes and a revered copy of the Metekhi Icon of the Virgin, but the terrace outside is the point: standing here, with the equestrian statue of Tbilisi's founder King Vakhtang Gorgasali behind you, you see exactly why the city grew where it did — river below, Old Town climbing the opposite bank, Narikala watching from above. It's a five-minute stop that quietly explains the geography everything else on this walk depends on.
Holy Trinity Cathedral (Sameba)
Best for understanding modern Georgian identity
Visible from the bridge as a gold dome on the eastern skyline, Sameba is worth the detour up Elia Hill on its own terms. Consecrated in 2004 after a decade of construction, it was built to mark 1,500 years of Georgian autocephaly and to answer, in stone, the thousands of churches destroyed under Soviet rule. Its 87-metre central dome was gilded using traditional Georgian methods, and the complex — cathedral, monastery, seminary, and the Patriarch's residence — was built to hold 15,000 worshippers. The underground Chapel of St. King David the Builder, with frescoes of Georgia's nine martyred kings, and the bronze doors depicting the life of Christ are the details worth seeking out. Dress modestly; services are most active on Sunday mornings.
The Presidential Palace and Public Service Hall
Best for spotting how 'new Tbilisi' actually looks
Two buildings, best seen rather than entered, sum up the architectural ambition behind this whole district. The Presidential Palace, completed in 2009 with a glass dome added by the same architect who designed the Bridge of Peace, sits on the left bank near Avlabari and is visible — deliberately — from the bridge itself; it is not open to the public, but the exterior view from the riverside path is the intended one. Nearby, the Public Service Hall's cluster of glass, mushroom-shaped pavilions houses multiple government agencies under one transparent roof, a literal architectural argument for administrative openness. Neither building rewards a special trip on its own, but glimpsed together from the bridge or the riverside path, they're the clearest evidence of what Tbilisi's post-2000s planners were trying to say with glass and steel.
Old Town and Abanotubani sulfur baths
Best way to end the walk
Finish by walking back across the bridge into the Old Town proper, where the contrast the whole route has been building toward pays off. Tbilisi's oldest quarter takes its name and its founding legend from the Abanotubani bath district, where a falcon belonging to King Vakhtang Gorgasali is said to have fallen into a hot spring in the 5th century, revealing the sulfur waters that gave the city its name — 'warm place.' The brick-domed bathhouses, most visibly the blue-tiled Orbeliani Baths, still channel 40°C mineral water into private and shared rooms, a ritual that drew Pushkin and Dumas and still draws Tbilisi residents on any given evening. After an afternoon spent looking at glass and steel, ending in centuries-old stone and steam is the point.
