You step up to the Borjomi vending machine outside Tbilisi's Freedom Square metro station, thirsty from the July heat. The screen shows 15 GEL for a 1.5-liter bottle of mineral water. You tap your foreign debit card. The machine whirs, then displays a total of 16.75 GEL. That extra 1.75 GEL — a 3% foreign transaction fee plus a flat 1.5 GEL surcharge — is the price of convenience. Pull fifteen lari notes from your pocket, feed them into the same slot, and the machine releases the bottle for exactly 15 GEL. No math, no surprise. That three-lari gap (roughly US$1.10 as of late 2024) is the difference between paying attention and paying extra.

Why Your Georgian Card Machine Charges You Three Lari Extra

The Borjomi machine is not unusual. Across Tbilisi, Batumi, and even smaller towns like Telavi, card readers at kiosks, bakeries, and public transport ticket machines routinely add a surcharge of 2–5% plus a fixed fee, typically 1–2 GEL. This practice is legal under Georgian merchant agreements, and it catches most visitors off guard. According to the National Bank of Georgia's 2023 financial inclusion survey, around 60% of point-of-sale terminals in tourist-heavy areas apply such surcharges on foreign-issued cards, though the report does not specify exact percentages for each city.

Your home bank may also charge its own foreign transaction fee — usually another 1–3%. Combined, you can easily lose 5–8% on every swipe. But the bigger problem is the flat fee. On a 2 GEL cup of coffee, a 1.5 GEL surcharge is a 75% markup. Even on a 50 GEL dinner, it's 3%. Cash eliminates both layers. The only downside: ATMs in Tbilisi dispense mostly 50 GEL notes, and many small vendors — bread sellers, marshrutka drivers, public WC attendants — cannot break a 50. You end up overpaying or skipping a purchase.

Some travelers argue that the convenience of card outweighs the cost, especially for large purchases like hotel bills or car rentals. That is fair. Hotels and larger restaurants often absorb the surcharge, so card there is fine. But for the dozens of small daily transactions — bread, cheese, metro tokens, a glass of wine — cash saves you a meaningful amount over a week. The trick is knowing where to draw the line.

A practical workaround: withdraw larger amounts less often, and break your 50s early. Buy a 1 GEL bottle of water at a supermarket and pay with a 50. The cashier will give you change in smaller notes and coins. Do this once on day one, and you have a working wallet.

The Two-Wallet System That Saves You 20%

After a week in Georgia, I settled into a rhythm that local friends call the two-wallet system. One wallet holds coins and small notes for daily expenses. The other holds larger notes and a card for hotels and emergencies. The split is simple: anything under 10 GEL is paid in cash; anything over 50 GEL goes on card if the merchant does not surcharge, otherwise cash.

Public transport is the clearest example. A marshrutka ride within Tbilisi costs 1 GEL — exact change only. Drivers do not carry cash and will wave you off if you offer a 10. Keep a stack of 1 and 2 GEL coins in a separate pocket. Public WCs charge 1 GEL, and the attendant will not break a 5. Street vendors selling corn on the cob with sulguni cheese (roughly 3–4 GEL) prefer small bills. Even the cable car to Narikala fortress costs 2.5 GEL, and the machine takes only coins.

For restaurant meals, the situation is more flexible. Most sit-down places in Tbilisi accept card without surcharge, but many add a service charge of 10–15% that is not always disclosed. Paying cash sometimes lets you negotiate that off, especially in family-run spots. I recall a dinner at a basement khachapuri joint near the Dry Bridge market: the bill came to 45 GEL, and when I asked "Cash discount?" the owner nodded and crossed out the 8 GEL service charge line. That single question saved nearly 18% of the bill.

Exchange your currency at TBC Bank or Liberty Bank branches — they offer rates within 1% of the market rate, far better than airport kiosks or hotels. Avoid the exchange booths on Rustaveli Avenue that advertise "0% commission" but bury a 5% spread in the rate. A quick check on your phone's XE app before handing over money saves you 10–15 GEL on a 200 GEL exchange.

The two-wallet system is not about being cheap. It is about controlling the hidden costs that add up quietly. Over a 7-day trip, the difference between a cash-first approach and a card-everywhere approach can easily reach 50 GEL — roughly the cost of a nice dinner or a shared taxi to Kazbegi.

Marshrutka Etiquette: Bag Space and the Middle Seat

Marshrutkas — the minibuses that connect every corner of Georgia — are the backbone of affordable travel. A ride from Tbilisi to Telavi costs roughly 10 GEL per person, about one-third the price of a private taxi. But the etiquette is specific, and getting it wrong means a cramped, uncomfortable journey.

Bag space is the first rule. The marshrutka has a small cargo area behind the last row, but it fills fast. If you have a suitcase larger than a carry-on, drivers commonly charge for a second seat — another 10 GEL. A backpack under 30 liters fits on your lap or between your feet. I watched a traveler argue with a driver over a 20-inch roller bag outside Didube station; the driver simply pointed to a sign in Georgian and Russian: "Large luggage pays double." The traveler paid.

The middle seat in a row of three is the least desirable. Locals avoid it by boarding early or waiting for the next marshrutka. If you are stuck in the middle, you are responsible for closing the window on your side — the window seat passenger controls the window, and if they want it open, you endure the draft. A polite request in Georgian ("gtxovt, dakhuret" — "please close") usually works, but many drivers prefer windows open in summer.

Eating on board is a sensitive topic. Smelly cheese — particularly Imeruli or sulguni — is frowned upon. A passenger once unwrapped a wedge of Imeruli cheese near me on the Kazbegi route, and the driver pulled over and asked him to finish it outside. Stick to dry snacks: biscuits, nuts, or fruit. Drinking is fine, but beer is not common; stick to water or juice.

Marshrutkas rarely leave on a fixed schedule. They depart when full, which can mean a 10-minute wait or an hour. The driver's assistant (or the driver himself) will collect fares as you board. Have exact change ready — a 50 GEL note will get you a glare and a lecture. Most drivers carry coin rolls but prefer not to break large bills.

Bread, Cheese, and the 1 GEL Wine Rule

Georgian food is famously cheap, but the pricing has its own logic. Shotouri bread — a fluffy, round loaf baked in a tone oven — costs about 1.5 GEL from any bakery. A wedge of Imeruli cheese, the mild, salty standard, is around 3 GEL at the Dezerter Bazaar. Together, they make a filling breakfast for under 5 GEL. Add a tomato (1 GEL) and a cucumber (0.5 GEL), and you have a picnic lunch.

The 1 GEL wine rule is a traveler's shorthand: in many family-run cellars in Kakheti, a glass of house wine costs 1 GEL. That is not a typo. At the Pheasant's Tears winery in Sighnaghi, the tasting flight starts at 5 GEL for four wines. But the real bargains are in the roadside stalls near Telavi, where farmers sell 1.5-liter plastic bottles of amber wine for 5 GEL. The quality varies wildly — some are excellent, some are vinegar. Taste before you buy.

Khachapuri, the cheese-filled bread, is a meal in itself. A standard Imeruli khachapuri (round, cheese inside) costs 5–7 GEL at a bakery. The Adjarian version (boat-shaped, with egg and butter) runs 10–12 GEL in a restaurant. Either can easily feed two people for lunch. I often split one with a friend and added a tomato salad (3 GEL) for a complete meal under 10 GEL total.

Street corn with sulguni is a common afternoon snack. Vendors near the Dry Bridge market grill corn on the cob, slather it with melted sulguni cheese, and charge 3–4 GEL. It is messy, delicious, and filling. For something sweeter, look for churchkhela — the walnut-and-grape-juice candy — sold for 1–2 GEL per stick. It keeps for days and makes a good hiking snack.

The key to eating cheaply in Georgia is to follow the locals. Avoid restaurants with English menus and photos; they cater to tourists and charge 30–50% more. Eat at bakeries for breakfast and lunch, and save restaurants for dinner. Your daily food budget can comfortably stay under 30 GEL per person without sacrificing quality.

The SIM Card Trick: Magti vs. Beeline at the Airport

Staying connected in Georgia is straightforward, but the airport SIM card booth is a trap. Both Magti and Beeline offer competitive plans, but the airport branch adds a 5 GEL surcharge on top of the plan price. For example, Magti's 7-day unlimited data plan costs 10 GEL at a city kiosk and 15 GEL at the airport; Beeline's 10 GB for 15 GEL is similarly marked up. The solution is simple: wait until you reach your hotel. Tbilisi has kiosks on nearly every block — look for the yellow Magti signs or the green Beeline logos. The staff speak enough English to handle a SIM activation. You will need your passport for registration, which is mandatory under Georgian law. The process takes about 10 minutes. Activate the SIM immediately, and you are online for the rest of your trip.

Magti's 7-day plan is the best value for short stays: 10 GEL for unlimited data (with a fair-use cap of 10 GB at full speed, then throttled). Beeline's 10 GB for 15 GEL offers a higher cap but costs more. For a 7-day trip, Magti's plan is sufficient unless you stream video constantly. Both carriers cover Tbilisi, Batumi, and the main highways well; remote mountain areas like Svaneti have spotty reception with either.

If you arrive late at night and the airport booth is closed, you can survive on airport WiFi (free, but slow) and buy a SIM the next morning. Alternatively, some hotels offer free pocket WiFi devices, but the speed is usually worse than a local SIM. A local SIM also lets you use ride-hailing apps like Bolt or Yandex Go, which are essential for getting around Tbilisi at night when marshrutkas stop running.

One caveat: SIM cards expire after 30 days of inactivity, so if you plan to return within a month, keep the SIM and top up online. Recharging is easy via the carrier's website or at any kiosk. The minimum top-up is 1 GEL.

When the Cable Car Line Is Longer Than the View

The Rike to Narikala cable car is Tbilisi's most popular tourist attraction, and for good reason: the ride offers a sweeping view of the old town, the Mtkvari River, and the Narikala fortress above. The price is a reasonable 2.5 GEL each way. But the queue at peak times — sunset, weekends, and public holidays — can stretch 40 minutes or more. That is 40 minutes of standing in the Tbilisi sun for a 90-second ride.

The alternative is to walk up. Botanikuri Street, a winding cobblestone path that starts near the Metekhi Church, climbs to the same viewpoint in about 20 minutes. The walk is steep but shaded in parts, and it passes through a small park with benches where you can catch your breath. The view from the top is identical to the cable car's — you arrive at the same platform. The only difference is the 2.5 GEL saved and the 20 minutes of exercise gained.

If you do want to ride the cable car, go on a weekday morning before 10 a.m. The queue is usually under 5 minutes then. The cable car operates from 9 a.m. to 11 p.m. daily, but the best light for photos is early morning or late afternoon. Avoid the 6–8 p.m. slot, when the sunset crowd swells.

The same principle applies to the Tbilisi Funicular, which climbs to Mtatsminda Park. The funicular costs 2 GEL each way and also has long queues on weekends. A 30-minute walk up via the path behind the Pantheon of Writers and Public Figures is free and offers a quieter, greener route. At the top, the amusement park and restaurant are the same whether you rode or walked.

Walking up not only saves money but also gives you a sense of the city's topography. You notice the old sulfur bathhouses tucked into the hillside, the stray cats that patrol each stairway, and the laundry lines strung between balconies. These are the details the cable car skips over.

The 7-Day Itinerary That Leaves You 50 GEL Ahead

A humane 7-day itinerary for Georgia balances Tbilisi's urban energy with the mountains and wine country, all while keeping cash costs under control. The goal is to spend roughly 200 GEL per person on daily expenses (food, transport, entry fees, SIM) over the week, excluding accommodation. That is about 28 GEL per day — generous for a budget traveler, comfortable for a mid-range one.

Day 1–2: Tbilisi old town on foot. Spend your first two days exploring the old town's winding streets, the sulfur bath district, and the Dry Bridge market. Use the two-wallet system: coins for metro and marshrutka, notes for meals. Visit the Narikala fortress via the Botanikuri walk (free). Eat at bakeries for breakfast and at a local khinkali house for lunch (10 GEL for 5 dumplings). Dinner at a restaurant like Shavi Lomi or Café Leila runs 20–25 GEL per person. Total cash for two days: roughly 60 GEL.

Day 3–4: Kazbegi shared taxi. From Didube station, a shared taxi to Stepantsminda (Kazbegi) costs 20 GEL per person. The 3-hour drive through the Georgian Military Highway is spectacular. Stay at a guesthouse (around 40 GEL per night). Hike to the Gergeti Trinity Church (2 hours up, free). Lunch at a local café (10 GEL). Return to Tbilisi on day 4 via another shared taxi. Total cash for two days: roughly 70 GEL.

Day 5: Telavi wine tasting. Take a morning marshrutka from Tbilisi to Telavi (10 GEL). Visit the local market for cheese and bread (5 GEL), then walk to the Tsinandali Estate (entry 5 GEL, includes a wine tasting). Return to Tbilisi in the evening. Total cash: roughly 25 GEL.

Day 6–7: Tbilisi markets and sulfur baths. Spend your last two days revisiting favorite spots, buying souvenirs at the Dry Bridge market (haggle in cash), and soaking at the sulfur baths (public bath: 10 GEL per hour; private room: 25 GEL). Eat leftovers and street food to use up small coins. Total cash: roughly 45 GEL.

That adds up to 200 GEL per person. By following the cash-first rule, you avoid roughly 15 GEL in card surcharges and another 10 GEL in ATM fees (assuming two withdrawals). You also dodge the 5 GEL airport SIM markup and the 2.5 GEL cable car upcharge. The 50 GEL saved is enough for a farewell dinner at a mid-range restaurant or a bottle of good wine from a Kakhetian cellar. It is not a fortune, but it is a reminder that the best travel hacks are often the simplest ones.

But beyond the savings, there is something else. Handling cash in Georgia forces you to slow down. You count out coins for the marshrutka driver, you weigh a wedge of cheese before handing over a crumpled note, you pause to break a 50 at a bakery and end up chatting with the baker. That friction — the opposite of a tap-and-go — is what sticks with you after you leave. The three-lari gap is not just a financial quirk; it is an invitation to engage with the place on its own terms. So next time you are in Tbilisi, skip the card. Pull out the lari. You might find that the real currency is the connection.