The Abanotubani Sulphur Baths

Tbilisi exists because of these springs. The story goes that a king hunting here in the fifth century found his wounded falcon healed in a hot pool, and named the city he founded on the spot Tbilisi, from the Georgian for warm. The bath quarter still works: the bathhouses are built into the hillside so that only their low brick domes emerge at street level, with the sulphur water piped up hot and faintly eggy from below. The usual way to use them is to hire a private room by the hour, which comes with a hot pool, a cold plunge and, for an extra fee, a kisi scrub from an attendant who removes several layers of you with a rough mitt. The blue-tiled Orbeliani bathhouse has the most photographed facade, and Pushkin, who bathed here, left a note calling them the best he had known.

What you actually see

• The brick domes - the low bath roofs emerging at street level in the quarter.
• The Orbeliani facade - the blue-tiled front, the quarter's landmark.
• A private room - hot sulphur pool, cold plunge and marble slab by the hour.
• The kisi scrub - the vigorous exfoliation by an attendant.

When to go

Year-round; winter is arguably the best time, when the steam rises off the quarter and coming out into cold air is the point. Baths open early and late, and going in the morning avoids the evening rush. Book a private room ahead at the more popular houses.

Honest expectations

The sulphur smell is strong and clings to hair and swimwear afterwards. Standards vary a great deal between bathhouses, from tiled and immaculate to distinctly worn, so it is worth looking at a room before paying. The kisi scrub is much rougher than a spa treatment and leaves skin pink. Public baths are single-sex and often nude, which catches some visitors unprepared.

Nearby

Narikala fortress and the old town are directly above; the Bridge of Peace is a short walk.