I’d heard several times that Batumi is the Dubai of Georgia. And a couple of other times the Las Vegas of the Black Sea. My jaw sure drop to the ground as we turned a corner in full view of the peninsula that the resort city of Batumi sat, a skyline like nothing else in Georgia, or most of the world for that matter.

The 2nd largest city in Georgia, its shocking to learn this playground for the countries wealthy only started in 2010, prior to that it was (and still is) a major port city on the Black Sea. Hotels like the Radisson and the Sheraton sprung up as skyscrapers, and casinos (a major economic cash cow) are littered throughout the city.

But at closer inspection, you find a city still being built and reinventing itself, as scaffolding lines street after street, the old town being morphed into flashy cocktail bars and restaurants. Walk down an old street and admire the old architecture, only to find the next street along is blocked off as new scaffolding is being brought in and it’s this streets turn for a glitzy makeover.

I find this both sad and utterly interesting. It’s so strange to see a chalk white casino tower, with its own gold gilded Ferris wheel built halfway up into the structure, towering in the background of the traditional apartment blocks of modest design that have cloths hanging out to dry on balconies.

It would be wild to return here in ten years and try to remember what it used to look like. I would expect it to be unrecognisable (except for that white casino and weird giant ball structure).

When you look at the map of Batumi, the entire northern side peninsula is a giant beach. I naturally had preconceived ideas what this would look like, and envisioned myself lying around on a beach side at the end days of this trip, sipping on some boozy frosty drink.

Therefore I found being asked an off question on the ride here by the taxi driver. What colour is the sand in Australia? This raised some flags, was I about to be told by a proud Georgian that the sand in Batumi was more beautiful than any sand in Oz? Or was I, as it would turn out, about to be warned to lower my expectations.

The beach stretches kilometres, throngs of people were making their way toward to beach front filled with people sun bathing and swimming – and it looks like a volcano had recently erupted nearby.The sand is charcoal in colour, and completely covered in rocks. Wooden walkways protect the feet of beach goers entering the main beach areas, then it’s up to you to clear rocks away to sit along the water. On ugly grey sand.

I stood on the wooden sidewalk for a minute looking left and right across the beach, despite knowing what to expect, it was had not to be disappointed. I even found it a little sad that this passed as a beach, and the scale of it. But people flock here, and resort level bars and restaurants line the boulevard. I guess you take what you have.

I did find myself a nice tiny cocktail bar across the road from the guesthouse I was staying in. The Meow Bar, yes a cat themed cocktail bar, was run by a truly brilliant cocktail maker, who made a truly smashing Negroni. A nightcap here really ended the day nicely, and they’d throw in some shot concoction they were experimenting with to top it off.

Alas sure enough the days ran out for this Caucasus holiday and I had booked a ticket from Batumi to Tbilisi on the only modern train in the country, leaving at an annoying 8am. From Tbilisi it was a flight back to Yerevan, and then the long haul back home. The last day in Batumi was raining, and the perfect primer to return to a rain drenched Sydney.

I’ve definitely loved this trip, the area and history is so fascinating, and the people genuinely hospitable and great to have a chat with. I won’t miss, however, the long waits in cafes and restaurants – if you had to wait 10mins for a coffee in Sydney there’d be rioting!