Georgia

I planned my trip to Georgia to overlap with a friend from Instagram, Vahab, who happened to be there too. An Iranian computer science professor at the University of San Francisco, Vahab was in the country for a research talk and, like me, on his own mission to visit every country in the world. Two strangers with the same obsession, coordinating schedules to explore Georgia together.

Over the next several days, we covered a lot of ground. At Uplistsikhe, we wandered through a rock-hewn city carved into the hillside more than 3,000 years ago, its rooms and staircases still cut into the stone. In Gori, we stood in the shadow of Stalin's birthplace, a strange, heavy kind of tourism. And in Mtskheta, Georgia's ancient capital, we found ourselves at the religious heart of the country, where the nation's Christian roots trace back over a thousand years.

But Kazbegi was the highlight. Driving into the Caucasus Mountains, the scenery grew more dramatic with every switchback until towering peaks closed in around us on all sides. It was there, of all places, that I ran into former NBA champion and Georgian basketball legend Zaza Pachulia. He'd started his own hotel in the capital, Tbilisi, the very one I was staying at. I went up to say hi, and at 6'11", he somehow made me, at 6'3", look small, which isn't an easy thing to do. Kazbegi wasn't done making connections. Walking through town, I struck up a conversation with Bhavik and his wife, Samyu, a couple from New York traveling through the Caucasus. It turned out they were heading to Armenia next too, my own next stop, so we made plans to explore it together.

Back in Tbilisi, the charm of the city took over: colorful balconies, winding streets, lively cafés, a kind of restless modern energy layered over centuries of history. And once again, the country found a way to hand me a friend. Vijay, who I'd met the year before in Guinea-Bissau, was getting married in Tbilisi the same week I was passing through. Catching up with him there, of all places, felt like proof of something I'd started to notice everywhere I went: no matter where I landed, someone was always waiting to turn the place into something more personal.