Why western Georgia is Europe’s epicentre of self-sustainable living

In the continent’s highest inhabited region, Simon Parker finds potent liquor and the warmest hospitality he’s ever encountered

Svaneti in Georgia's wild west (Georgian Tourist Board)

Of course, you’ve no obligation to drink these,” says my host, Maizer, as he pours our second quadruple shot of homebrewed moonshine and begins raising a toast to new friendships. “But I’m sure you’ll sink at least three.”

Egged on by peer pressure and a desire to not offend, I chug down the glass goblet of golden wheat spirit, before letting out an involuntary, hoarse roar. The inside of my cheeks itch and twitch from the 50 per cent proof liquor – and once washed through my quaking oesophagus, the fiery liquid creates a scorching hotspot in the pit of my stomach. I feel like a kerosene lamp waiting for a wick.

Thankfully, as Maizer begins pouring our third shot, his wife, Mimosa, arrives from the kitchen – somewhere in the now foggy middle distance, grappling a vast tray of food. “Everything we eat here, we’ve grown ourselves,” she tells me, as my inebriated eyes bulge at the prospect of Kubdari (oven-fresh bread stuffed with beef mince, onion, garlic, coriander, chilli and wild dill) – homegrown beef tomatoes swimming in sweet vinegar – and foraged field mushrooms layered with thick slivers of salty Sulguni cheese.