A mix of traditional, Soviet and modern styles, Georgia is a tricky place to pin down. But that’s half the fun of it for Suzanne Moore and her friend We are on the midnight plane to Georgia. In various stages of inebriation, me and Dave WhatsApp this to our grown-up children. It’s not our fault. Nothing ever is. Our Georgian Airways flight, the last one out of Gatwick, is delayed. What else is there to do but dutiful duty free? Dave is my compadre, the finest travelling companion a woman could wish for. The best thing about her is that she will go absolutely anywhere but also has no idea where anywhere is. Except France – which she has taken against to such an extent that even French people speaking French near her makes her extremely annoyed. She can sniff out pretension at 100km, not that she knows what a kilometre is. And God help anyone she calls “piss-elegant”.
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