Five days in Georgia reminded me why I love football so much

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Dispatch: a series dedicated to immersive storytelling, where our photographers and writers journey to chosen places, combining evocative imagery with long-form editorials to uncover and share unique football cultures.

Five days in Georgia reminded me why I love football so much

WORDS AND PHOTOGRAPHY Akis Katsoudas

February 11 2026

DAY ONE: PRESIDENT OF ARIS MALESIADA, WELCOME

The plane lands in Georgia’s capital late at night. Normally, I walk out of the arrivals gate alone. This time, though, someone is there waiting for me. It’s Dito, a work contact who ended up becoming a very good friend. He’s right on time. In his hands, he’s holding one of those classic signs with the names of tourists waiting for taxis. On his sign it says “President of Aris Malesiada”, a playful jab at the football team from my village back home. The one that wins a match maybe once a year, if that.

I met Dito in a rather unusual way. It all started one afternoon at Naples airport. I had fallen asleep and missed my morning flight to Athens, so I stayed for the next one, which connected through Istanbul. I had been in Naples to cover the celebrations of the Neapolitans for their third Scudetto in history, and their first since the days of the great Diego.

Just when I was bracing myself for being fired from the Greek outlet I was working for at the time, the good Lord placed Khvicha Kvaratskhelia right in front of me. This isn’t a metaphor or some poetic expression. He literally appeared before my eyes. Well, not exactly in front of me, more towards the edge of the gate, where he stood with the rest of his family, hood up to avoid recognition, waiting to board his flight back home to Tbilisi.

I approached him carefully and discreetly. The first thing I did was ask for a selfie, mostly so I could tell the story to my boss and friends and have proof that I hadn’t gone completely mad. He was very open and approachable. That gave me the courage to ask for a quick interview. But his father, standing next to him, explained that this probably wouldn’t be possible — the club’s approval would be needed first.

Back in Athens, I wrote a piece titled: “I Missed My Flight from Naples and on the Next One I Ran into Khvicha Kvaratskhelia.” A few hours later, without me even realising it, my Instagram started filling up with comments from Georgians. Something was happening, and I had no idea what. Soon, the mystery was solved: belive, one of the biggest sports outlets in Georgia, had picked up my story. The first person to see it there was Dito.

Tbilisi is a beautiful city, even more so late at night, when you’re looking at it through a car window. I reached my hotel room at around four in the morning, grabbed a quick fast-food meal, and went straight to bed. My journey in Georgia had just begun.

DAY TWO: SAKARTVELO! SAKARTVELO!

In Georgia, the summer sun rises very early. Having only slept a few hours, I step outside for a short morning walk. The Airbnb building is beautiful, one of those old-style blocks with a shared courtyard, where you might see laundry hanging from balconies and children playing football. Just like we used to, before the invasion of Instagram and TikTok.

Just around the corner lies one of Tbilisi’s largest open-air markets, where you can find anything from onions and eggs to replica football shirts and miniature Lada Nivas, the iconic car of the former Soviet Union. In recent years, these have begun to disappear from the Georgian capital, replaced mostly by newer Japanese models, many of them right-hand drive.

But I’m not here to cover the city’s car scene. My mind is already on the evening ahead. Tonight will be my first full night in town, and I’m headed to a stadium. Not for football, but for rugby, which the locals love just as much.

The weather, however, doesn’t cooperate. By late afternoon, the rain is pouring down. Still, this doesn’t seem to bother the fans, who fill the stadium well before kick-off. It’s going to be a tough game. The opponents are the mighty Ireland, ranked third in the world. Georgia, though, are no pushovers either, sitting just a few places behind in 11th.

My other Georgian friend, Levan, a fellow journalist who specialises in rugby, believes it will be extremely difficult, if not impossible, for Georgia to win. “It’s not like football,” he says. “In rugby, you rarely see upsets.” His prediction proves correct. But despite the defeat, every Georgian stays behind, chanting in unison: “Sakartvelo! Sakartvelo!” – Georgia’s name in their own language.

After the match, I manage to get onto the pitch with Levan, Dito, and the other journalists. Everyone, fans and reporters alike, rushes towards Davit Niniashvili, the 22-year-old star who plays in France and is often dubbed the “Kvaratskhelia of rugby.”

From the stands, a supporter points to a tattoo of Niniashvili’s face on his arm and is rewarded with the player’s shirt. Another fan walks away with his shorts, sprinting towards the dressing room wearing nothing but boots and underwear. We leave with all our clothes still on. We’ll be back at the stadium on the final day, but there’s a long way to go before that.

DAY THREE: ΤHE WOMEN’S DERBY

Something unique happens in Georgia. Although it’s not a Northern European country, it follows the football calendar typical of those nations. In simple terms, all football competitions -men’s and women’s leagues, cups- continue normally through the summer and pause around November, restarting in spring.

The Georgian Football Federation has adopted this system for several reasons. The two main ones are: most stadiums, especially outside Tbilisi, are old and poorly maintained, so they can’t withstand the harsh winter; and secondly, by playing through the summer, Georgian teams stay in good shape and thus improve their chances of qualifying for the group stages of the Champions League, Europa League, or Conference League.

However, this approach hasn’t brought much success so far. The last time a Georgian team made it to the group stages was back in 2004, when Dinamo Tbilisi competed in the UEFA Cup, finishing last with zero points after losing all four matches against Newcastle, Sochaux, Sporting Lisbon, and Panionios. A tough group by any standard.

So, summer in Georgia means football. And we weren’t going to miss the chance to catch a game. We were also lucky because that weekend featured the big women’s league top-of-the-table derby, with Nike Lusso, the league leaders, hosting second-place Lantchkhouti.

Looking at the standings, it’s clear the league has two speeds: these two top teams who regularly score double-digit wins against opponents and dominate the table, and then the rest.

The match was scheduled for Sunday, July 6th, at the Didi Dighomi Sports Complex, a modern sports center on the outskirts of the city. At its heart stands a beautiful football stadium overlooking massive old apartment blocks, from whose balconies you can see the entire city, and maybe even the match if you have good binoculars.

The stadium has stands only on one side; the other two sides are fenced, with small parks behind them where locals can watch the game for free, though nothing much seems to happen there.

What struck me most were the Nike Lusso fans. They gathered in one corner of the stands, constantly singing and waving flags of both the team and Georgia. The atmosphere became even more impressive as the match kicked off and the stadium sky filled with green smoke flares, the team’s colors.

The game was exactly as expected: a tight derby. Despite a strong comeback in the second half, the hosts ultimately won 3-2. What followed after the final whistle was unforgettable: the players ran toward the fans and threw a full-on celebration. Holding flares, chanting slogans, hugging each other. They all knew that with this victory they had become the clear favorites to win the championship.

I took a taxi back to the city center. One more thing you should know about Georgian taxi drivers, as my friend Dito says: they drive as if trying out for a Formula 1 race. The day ended with traditional Georgian barbecue at Honore, one of the city’s best bar-restaurants.

DAY FOUR: THE STADIUM INSIDE THE CASTLE

Today is a trip to the mountains of Georgia, perhaps some of the most beautiful mountains in the world. Dito has a very specific travel plan. We head east of the capital toward Kakheti, a region especially famous for its stunning nature, vast vineyards that produce the world’s oldest wine (some dating back 8,000 years), and its towering churches and monasteries.

But the ultimate destination is something even more special. The football stadium in Kvareli, a small town of about 7,000 residents nestled at the foot of the Caucasus Mountains, very close to the Russian border. What makes it truly unique is that the pitch lies literally inside a castle.

When we arrive, the gates are closed. Inside the stadium, only two people are tending the pitch, which is in exceptional condition. One of them approaches us, and Dito takes on the role of translator. The man seems genuinely excited when he finds out I’m Greek and starts telling me a few words in my language. These are some of the few words he remembers from the hard years when he had to leave his home, homeland, and family to immigrate to Greece in search of a better life. Eventually, he returned, because, as he explains, this castle is his home.

But what do we really know about this stadium, so rare in the world? The medieval fortress is estimated to have been built between the 17th and 19th centuries and was declared a cultural heritage monument in 2018.

It’s also worth noting that the fortress played a significant role during the 1755 war when 20,000 Avar soldiers attacked Kakheti hoping to conquer it. But the fortress’s thick walls and the Georgian soldiers manning its battlements repelled the assault.

As for its football history, the more recent story, the stadium was the historic home of FC Duruji Kvareli, which even played in Georgia’s top division for two seasons, 1994/95 and 1995/96. That means that thirty years ago, professional matches took place inside this castle. Unique. However, the club declined over the years and was eventually dissolved a few years ago.

Yet the stadium never stopped functioning, thanks to Davit Baidoshvili, a veteran goalkeeper who now coaches the children of this small town eager to learn football. Training begins in the afternoon. Kids arrive wearing their own football shirts. Some with Napoli jerseys, some Paris Saint-Germain, some the Georgian national team, others Valencia. On the back, you can spot the names Kvaratskhelia and Mamardashvili, the two stars of Georgia’s national team who led the country to its first-ever Euro 2024 last summer.

The influence of the goalkeeper, who will wear Liverpool’s shirt starting this season, is so great that many children, the coach explains, don’t want to play outfield but prefer to put on the gloves and guard the goal. A rarity for anyone who played football as a child and thought goalkeeping was the least attractive position. In Georgia, things are different.

“These kids were born in 2015 and 2016. They’ve been training together for the last two or three years and play in the local Kakheti league. They’re now starting to operate under the Dinamo Tbilisi Academy, which also produced Kvicha Kvaratskhelia. A few months ago, they played friendlies against teams from Tbilisi and won all of them. It’s a big success for us. I hope some of these academy kids will play at a high level,” the coach explains.

He made his name playing for the town’s team during its heyday in the top division. “All the big teams in the country came here to play, Dinamo Tbilisi included. The stadium was packed then, even on the walls,” he recalls. Today, his academy is the only football club in Kvareli.

The difficulties are significant, especially given the town’s proximity to the border. “The location is a problem for us. For example, to play many of our matches, we have to travel to Tbilisi. But playing here is really something special. Even if the ball sometimes goes outside, the neighbors pick it up. They are our friends,” he says laughing.

Our conversation ends here as Davit must return to training, which lasts until sunset. We take the road back to Tbilisi. In a small village nearby, a horse grazes inside a pitch. Close by, children play football. Paradise.

DAY FIVE: CHAMPIONS LEAGUE KICKS OFF IN GEORGIA

A few days ago, I stumbled upon an Instagram reel mocking how fans from Balkan and Eastern European teams celebrate just qualifying for the «first of potentially 1,420 qualifying rounds» in the Champions League and other European competitions.

For most fans of the big Western European clubs, reaching the league phase is a given. But that’s not the case for everyone. Especially for supporters of Georgian teams, who must start competing in early July for what often seems an impossible task: getting through four qualifying rounds. This year, it’s the turn of FC Iberia 1999, a Tbilisi-based club that replaced Dinamo Tbilisi, the country’s biggest and most historic team.

While Dinamo might be out of title contention today, they remain the only Georgian club to have won a European trophy: the Cup Winners’ Cup in 1981, beating Carl Zeiss Jena from East Germany. No one in the country will ever forget that success. Videos of heroes’ welcomes at the airport and Dinamo Arena still circulate online.

“My father used to go to the stadium and watch the team. It must have held 100,000 spectators back then. There were no seats like today,” says Dito. Yet, interest in Georgian football isn’t what it used to be. Amiran, a football journalist and passionate Georgian football fan, tells me, “We need a big European success by our clubs to increase interest. Just like the national team did.” We walk downhill toward the stadium, where a rugby match was played a few days ago.

But the challenge remains tough. Iberia must overcome the formidable Malmö from Sweden in the first Champions League qualifying round. The stadium is packed. Not everyone here supports Iberia; many Georgians are just curious to watch the game. In one corner sits the blue stand with Swedish fans who traveled all this way to support their team and to witness the first match of the new Champions League season. It’s no small thing.

Despite some chances in the first half, Malmö wins 3-1, largely deciding the tie in the first leg. The stadium is built right next to the mountain. Many locals watch the match from the slopes, hidden among the trees. Two elderly men, who don’t speak any English, try to ask me the score. I show them with my fingers. Then they turn their gaze to the stadium and laugh while sipping their beers. In the end, football truly is a universal language.

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