Why this works, and what it costs you
Georgia is one of the few countries where travelling without a car is a real choice and not a penance. The state railway links Tbilisi to Batumi on the Black Sea and to Zugdidi at the foot of Svaneti, twenty-seat marshrutka vans cover everything else for single-digit lari, and half a day of a negotiated taxi costs less than a rental car for the same period. Nothing in the eight days below needs a vehicle of your own.
What it costs is time and slack. Where a hired driver leaves at eight, a van leaves in the morning — which means when the last seat sells, somewhere between the hour you were told and ninety minutes later. Across eight days that adds up to about two half-days of standing around, and it removes the option of stopping wherever the light is good. Plan few, long legs and it barely hurts; plan three hops a day and the logistics become the holiday.
What it buys is money and wine. All the movement on this route — one Batumi train, one sleeper, five vans, city buses and two short taxis — comes to roughly GEL 200–240 per person (2025), against GEL 100–160 a day for a rental plus fuel and the parking problem in Tbilisi, Batumi and Mestia. It also means everyone at the table can drink.
And the honest limit, stated up front rather than buried: three things on most Georgia wish lists do not work carless. Tusheti, Vardzia and a proper day of Kakheti cellars all need a driver. They get their own section below, with prices, instead of a pretend bus.
The four ways you actually move
Four modes, and the skill is knowing which one each leg wants. Rail for the long runs west, because it is the only thing in the country with a published timetable. Vans for the mountains, because there is no alternative. A negotiated taxi for the last twenty kilometres no van serves. Metro and your feet in Tbilisi, where a car is a liability.
The trains are Swiss-built Stadler sets on the Batumi line: about 5 h 20 min, two to three departures a day, second class GEL 25–30 and first around GEL 45–55 (2025). The Zugdidi line looks minor and is not — the overnight service converts a dead evening into the first half of a Svaneti day.
Marshrutkas are the real national network. They cost GEL 2–30 by distance, run from separate yards rather than a single bus station, and take cash. Nobody sells you a ticket in advance: you find the van with the right sign on the windscreen, tell the driver where you are going, and wait for the seats to fill.
Buying tickets, and where the money changes hands
Only the trains are bookable, and they are bookable properly. Both tkt.ge and the railway's own site sell seats against a passport number, and a screenshot of the QR code satisfies the conductor. Sales open a few weeks ahead; in July and August the Batumi trains do sell out, and the Zugdidi sleeper fills on Friday nights.
Everything else is cash on the day. Vans take lari in the hand, ideally small notes, because drivers rarely have change for a fifty and never for a hundred. No cards, no apps, no seat numbers. The fare quoted at the yard is the fare — on scheduled routes this is not a haggling culture, and being quoted the same price as the locals is normal.
Taxis are the opposite: fix the number before the doors close, in lari, for the whole car, the whole trip and any waiting time. In Tbilisi, Batumi and Kutaisi, Bolt does that conversation for you and is worth using even for a two-kilometre hop.
Days 1–3 · Tbilisi, then up to Kazbegi by van
Land, and do not go anywhere. Bus 337 runs from the airport to Station Square and on along Rustaveli for GEL 1 and takes 40–50 minutes; Bolt is GEL 25–35 and takes 25. Sleep near Station Square or any metro stop on line 1 — for a carless week, walking distance to the metro is worth more than a balcony.
Day two is the Kazbegi leg, from Didube, the yard for everything north and west. Vans to Stepantsminda go from around 07:00 until mid-afternoon, cost GEL 15–20, and take 3–3.5 hours over the Jvari pass at 2,379 m. Be there by nine: morning vans fill in minutes, afternoon ones sometimes never fill, and you want the pass in daylight.
Day three is Gergeti, and it is the day the van trip repays itself. Ninety minutes on foot from the village to the church at 2,170 m, or GEL 50–70 for a 4x4 return if the legs vote against it. Leave by eight and you are up there before the day-trip fleet grinds in from Tbilisi around eleven.
Days 4–6 · The sleeper to Zugdidi and the Mestia van
Day four is a travel day used well. A van back down from Stepantsminda to Didube takes 3–3.5 hours and runs from early morning; be on one by nine, leave your bag at the guesthouse you have booked for the last night, spend the afternoon in Tbilisi, and board the overnight train to Zugdidi at about ten at night.
That sleeper is the single best trick of the carless version. It departs around 22:00, arrives around 06:00, costs about GEL 25–35 in a four-berth compartment, and saves both a hotel night and a whole daylight transfer. Vans to Mestia wait in the station forecourt for exactly this train, which is why the connection works without any planning on your part.
Zugdidi–Mestia is three hours and GEL 25–30, climbing the Enguri gorge past the dam. It is paved and it is still a mountain road: rockfall and snow shut it, and after heavy weather the van becomes a shared 4x4 at a higher price. Two nights in Mestia at 1,500 m buys one full day — Chalaadi glacier is a walk from town, Koruldi lakes need a hired jeep.
Days 7–8 · Down to the coast and home by rail
Day seven is two vans and no drama, provided you start early. Mestia to Zugdidi leaves mostly between seven and nine, three hours down the gorge; from the same forecourt vans to Batumi run through the day, another three hours across the coastal plain for GEL 15–20. Late starts are how people end up sleeping in Zugdidi, which nobody plans on purpose.
Batumi is the reward for a week of vans: sea, palms, a walkable centre and Adjaran khachapuri the size of a rowing boat. City buses cost GEL 1, and everything worth seeing — the boulevard, the old town, the bus out to the botanical garden — is either on foot or one ride away.
Home is by rail. Batumi's station is Makhinjauri, six kilometres north of the centre: local bus for GEL 1 or a taxi for GEL 10–15, and do not cut it fine. The evening train reaches Tbilisi around 22:30. If you are flying out of Kutaisi instead, buses from Batumi reach the airport in about two hours — cheaper flights, worse timings.
The stations and the yards
There is no central bus station in Tbilisi, and that is the single most confusing thing about travelling here without a car. Vans depart from four separate yards on the edges of the city, each serving its own direction, each hung off a metro stop. Work out which yard your leg leaves from the day before you need it, not the morning of.
Rail is simpler. Tbilisi Central sits on Station Square above a market and a shopping floor, on metro line 1; everything heading west leaves from there, the ticket hall is upstairs and the platforms are below the shops, which catches people out with ten minutes to spare.
In the regions the geography is friendly. Zugdidi's vans park in front of the station and are timed to the trains; Batumi's trains stop at Makhinjauri six kilometres north of town; Mestia's departures gather on the main square and can be arranged the night before by any guesthouse.
Where a driver is genuinely unavoidable
Some places do not work on public transport, and pretending otherwise wastes other people's holidays. The pattern is the same in each case: the road is unpaved, the demand is seasonal, and nobody runs a scheduled service because there is nobody to carry.
The honest fix is to buy a driver for one day rather than a car for eight. A car with a driver runs GEL 150–250 a day (2025) depending on the road; split three or four ways it still undercuts a rental, and you keep the trains for the long legs where they are unbeatable.
Tusheti is the hardest case in the country. The only road crosses the Abano pass at 2,850 m, it is unpaved, it opens roughly from June to early October, and it is shared 4x4 or nothing. No marshrutka has ever served it and none ever will.
What the carless week actually costs
Per person, per day, in 2025 lari, excluding international flights: a bed, three meals, all internal transport, entry fees and the odd tasting. The transport line is the only one that shrinks — food and beds cost the same whether or not there is a car outside.
All eight days of movement — one Batumi train, one sleeper, five vans, city buses and two short taxis — comes to roughly GEL 200–240 a head. A rental for the same eight days is GEL 800–1,300 before fuel at GEL 40–70 a day, and before the parking problem in Tbilisi, Batumi and Mestia.
The real price is measured in days, not lari. Two of the eight are mostly movement; with a car they would be half-days each, which is the honest arithmetic of going carless. If your trip is only five days long this is the wrong approach — hire a driver for the mountain legs and keep the train for Batumi.
Rhythm, luggage and the small print
Two habits separate a smooth carless week from a frustrating one: travel in the morning, and travel light. Vans fill and leave earliest between seven and ten; by three in the afternoon you are gambling on strangers wanting the same road as you on the same day.
Luggage is a negotiation, not a right. A twenty-seat van has a boot the size of a hatchback's, so big cases end up on the back seat, in the aisle or on the roof, and on a full van the driver decides. A forty-litre soft bag travels free and without discussion; a hard case with wheels may cost GEL 5–10 and a certain look.
The rest is small print. Cash in small notes, an offline map so you know when to ask for your stop, and the knowledge that a three-hour leg gets one break, at a moment and a roadside cafe of the driver's choosing.
The six mistakes
All six come from treating a van network as a timetable. Four of them we have made, and the third one cost us a night in Zugdidi.
The questions that always come
Six that reach us every week, answered without hedging.