The table is full, the wall is painted, the space is filled with voices!' Zurab was talking. We were in a Mexican-Japanese restaurant in Tbilisi, ending a heavy night. Bottles and dishes crowded the table; the diners were even gaudier than the d�cor; over the blast of the band came the voice of Georgia's richest brewer yelling at his bodyguards. 'I'm talking about Georgia,' Zurab shouted. God, not more Kakheti red wine?
Neal Ascherson in Georgia