They say life begins at 40, and so, during the summer of 2023, I decided to put that old chestnut to the test and mark this milestone year with a monumental challenge: to explore the landscape of Georgia, diving into 40 wild waters in just 40 days.
It was an interesting time to be in Georgia. Geopolitical tensions from the Russia-Ukraine conflict were palpable, and since my last visit, domestic unrest has, if anything, only worsened. Yet Georgia remains a fascinating country—steeped in history, with world-class cuisine, an ancient wine culture, and, as I discovered, some truly beautiful places to swim. What follows are my top picks for the best wild swims from this epic 40-day adventure.
What better way to kick off this adventure than a visit to Tbilisi’s largest body of water: the Tbilisi Sea (actually an enormous reservoir). We set sail on the packraft that morning, only to face strong winds and choppy waters—great for the kite surfers riding the swells, less so for two middle-aged men crammed into an inflatable kayak. There’s a resort on the lake with cafes and diving boards, but for a wilder experience, there are plenty of hidden entry points if you’re determined enough to seek them out. For a wild swim without leaving the city, Tbilisi Sea is the place to be.
In Batumi, Georgia’s second-largest city, my grandfatherly hotel manager, Tamaz, offered to drive me down the coast to Sarpi on the Turkish border. Along the way, we stopped off at ‘Andrew the Apostle,’ a statue next to a small waterfall. Tamaz introduced me to a friend who had set up a stall by the waterfall selling homemade Chacha (a throat-burning grape-based vodka). A free tasting session left me tipsy enough to wade into the water wearing a ‘for photos’ crown. I felt as regal as Neptune, but once the Chacha wore off, the photos told a different story.
Sarpi itself isn’t much to write home about—a pebbled beach beside a perpetual traffic jam of trucks heading to and from Turkey. Its saving grace is a colossal rock daring you to leap into the Black Sea below. After some coaxing from local teenagers (who taught me how to jump without skinning my buttocks on the way down), and after several minutes paralysed with fear, I finally summoned the courage to make the leap. Then, I climbed back up and did it again.
Preparing to jump from Sarpi Rock
Hydrangea is my pick for Georgia’s best beach (although the real gold is said to be in Russian-occupied Abkhazia). If I had to recommend one coastal swim in Georgia, this would be it. Located halfway between Poti and Batumi, Hydrangea sits right beneath the ruins of the ancient Fortress of Petra. Most Georgian beaches are either overcrowded or lack scenic appeal, but Hydrangea strikes a decent balance—not too busy, not deserted, with plenty of shade, a makeshift shower, and a bar offering drinks and ice cream.
In Poti, a northern port city, we took a high-speed motorboat tour of Paliastomi Lake, a sprawling nature reserve teeming with birdlife. Eagles circled overhead, herons rose from the reeds, and flying fish leapt from the dark blue waters. Our boat sped through snaking tributaries and swampy backwaters before docking at a viewing tower. After taking in the view, we dived into the lake. The water was wonderfully warm at the surface, yet bitingly cold beneath, the lakebed a silky mud carpet beneath our toes. It was an extraordinary day, an all-time great wild swim, and for the first time, I started to believe that life really did start at 40.
Wild swimming at Paliastomi Lake
Wild swimming at Paliastomi Lake
Wild swimming at Paliastomi Lake
If you’re stopping off in Kutaisi, this river swim is a no-brainer. It’s easily accessible (just a quick cab ride from downtown), and there’s an ancient stone bridge you can jump from. The area has a very communal vibe, with plenty of locals enjoying the water. Well worth a half-day excursion if you find yourself in this charming little town.
After two days of rain, the weather finally cleared in Martvili, a popular outdoor hotspot northwest of Kutaisi. We wasted no time beelining it to Tsachkuru St. Archangels, a church perched on a mountain with stunning views of the valley.
After a quick dip in the teeth-chattering Tsachkuru waterfall, we hiked to three lakes hidden in a dense forest at the summit. Along the way, we took a detour for a skinny dip in a stream and explored a creepy abandoned farmhouse, then got hopelessly lost. Only after an hour of hacking our way Hiram Bingham-style through the undergrowth did we finally stumble upon the sapphire-blue lakes, by which time we were utterly spent.
That evening, we headed to Nokalakevi Hot Springs on the Tekhuri River. The warm water and steam rolling over white rocks were supremely relaxing, and after a half-hour sweat session, we sprinted into the Tekhuri’s cool waters—the shock immediately washing away all our fatigue.
The Tskaltsitela River, Kutaisi
We hit Markvilli Canyon on Day 18. The south entrance, though undeniably beautiful, has become an overpriced (non-swimming) tourist trap. If you’re bringing small kids, they might get a kick out of it, but if you’re chasing the freedom of a wild swim, give this one a miss.
The good stuff is to the north, at Gachedili Canyon, where you’ll find jade-green waters, large bleached-white rocks for lounging, and ample space for swimming and picnicking. It’s one of Georgia’s best outdoor swims.
Today marked my triumphant 40th swim—17 days ahead of schedule! To celebrate, I set off to find my own oasis on Sioni Dam, which turned out to be easier said than done, as every seemingly unreachable nook from a distance turned out to be someone else’s secret hideaway. I passed families barbecuing, beer-drinking fishermen, and even startled a nude couple scrambling for their towels as I kayaked past—an incident that gave me a brilliant idea. When I eventually found an uninhabited cove, I decided to celebrate in my birthday suit. I stripped off and spent the afternoon swimming and picnicking in the buff by the lake. Then a storm rolled in, cutting short my nudie parade. I sheltered under a tree, but when it became clear the storm meant business, I braved the 30-minute paddle back to the village. Rain pelted my face, lightning flashed, and I shivered the whole way back to Sioni.
Exploring the wild waters of Martvili
This was the day I had the harebrained idea to kayak down a semi-white-water stretch of the Iori River with all our essentials (drones, wallets, phones) packed into dry bags for the ride—absolute lunacy. The first 10 minutes, navigating fast-flowing waters, were chaotic but fun. Then the river narrowed, heading straight for a churning waterfall. We tried frantically to avoid disaster and pull up to the riverbank, but the current was too strong, and we slammed into a thicket, flipping the boat and sending our belongings—and a balding Russian man—into the frigid waters. Pyotr reacted with remarkable wit and courage for a man who had just been thrown overboard, front-crawling downstream to retrieve the dry bags while I battled to steady the ship. By the time we heaved ourselves onto dry land, we were both in shock. Pyotr, typically one of the most tolerant, easy-going travel buddies, was not a happy camper as he collapsed on the embankment in his Y-fronts. Moments later, he was stung by a wasp, which only aggravated him further.
Despite this disastrous start, we salvaged the afternoon after stumbling upon a couple of quiet, grassy banks by the river—perfect for a picnic and a much-needed decompression swim. We spent the rest of the day lounging by the water, cooling off in the river, and unwinding after what had been a rough (if memorable) start to the day.
A convoy of us headed to Borjomi to explore Kakhisi, a mountain lake formed in the crater of an extinct volcano. We grabbed supplies at Borjomi’s central market (cheese, apricots, piping hot bread) and rented a car that looked like the lovechild of a dirt bike and a hummer to take us up the mountain. An awkward exchange with the car owner followed as he quoted a steep 300 Lari fare for the 1-hour trip. We haggled the price down and took a bone-rattling ride up the mountain. As we turned the final rocky corner, Kakhisi Lake came into view, serene and surrounded by pine-forested mountains. After settling into our cabins, we spent the day kayaking and swimming in its deep, dark green waters—easily one of the highlights of the trip.
Kayaking Kakhisi Lake
Located near Lagodeki in the eastern Caucasus Mountains, Ninoskhevi Waterfall is a 3-4-hour hike through some of Georgia’s purest wilderness, including a couple of tricky river crossings. While the spray from the main fall is too intense for a full dip (a quick dunk will suffice), you can scramble down to the lower pools for a more manageable wild swim. Ninoskhevi is one of Georgia’s most spectacular waterfalls, and a perfect example of a journey that’s every bit as rewarding as the destination.
Zhinvali Reservoir is probably the best outdoor swim within spitting distance of Tbilisi. Surrounded by mountains, with Anuri Fortress looming over the dam, the views and photo opportunities are out of this world. It’s a family-friendly spot, with plenty of bars, restaurants and even boat cruises. While the main resort area can get crowded, if you bring your own inflatable kayak or packraft, you’ll easily find some solitude on this vast lake.
Ninoskhevi Waterfall
Good swimmable waterfalls are surprisingly hard to come by in Georgia, but Znakva ticks all the boxes. It’s not overrun with tourists and is just a 20-30 minute drive from Ambrolauri, followed by a short scenic clamber through the forest to reach this multi-tiered waterfall with lush, inviting green pools.
A 30-minute walk from Ambrolauri along the Kirkhula River brings you to Bungalow Changes, a lively spot packed with local families. There’s a bar for snacks and drinks, hammocks swaying under dappled sunlight, and the place buzzes with energy. It’s a bustling contrast to Znavka, but just as much fun.
Hot tip: Five minutes downstream, it’s quieter, with a couple of secluded pools (I even managed a cheeky skinny dip out of sight from the resort).
Bungalow Changes on the Kirkhula River
On the last day of the 40 swims project, I woke up with a hangover from the darkest depths of hell—my head felt like it was dissolving in acid, my stomach host to ravenous leeches.
After two decades of drinking, I’d learned the hard way that prevention is always better than cure, but that ship of wisdom had sailed. Fortunately, I do know one foolproof hangover hack. I found a quiet sandy bank and dived in headfirst. The hangover didn’t stand a chance.
I kayaked to a rocky outcrop then swam out into the middle of the lake. Floating on my back, I listened to Shaori’s gentle gurgling below and gazed up at the grey skies above. As I focused on my breath, a calm reassurance settled in: that in every plunge lay a fresh start. That at 40—or any age—life is a constant series of beginnings and ends. The trip was over, and it felt good.
Celebrating the 40th swim at Sioni Dam
Dominic Horner has been passionate about open water adventures since his mid-20s, when he discovered his love for wild swimming whilst traveling around Europe. Since then, he has explored and sought out some of the best swimming spots across Georgia, Albania, and Myanmar. Now based in Yangon, Myanmar, he runs an outdoor swimming and kayaking company. He has previously written for Lonely Planet, Al Jazeera, Nikkei Asia, Frontier Myanmar, BBC Travel, and PopMatters, among others. You can reach him at domhorner33@gmail.com.