Everyone raves about Bali. The beaches, the vibes, the endless smoothie bowls. But after a month there last year, dealing with scooter traffic jams and spotty Wi-Fi in my villa, I was ready for something different. 

Something cheaper, more reliable, and way off the beaten path for remote workers.

Enter Tbilisi, Georgia—the capital of a country sandwiched between Europe and Asia that most people couldn’t point to on a map. I stumbled upon it while scrolling through underrated nomad forums, lured by promises of living costs half that of Bali and infrastructure that doesn’t crumble under a rainstorm. 

Skeptical? So was I. But after three months there this spring, I’m hooked. Here’s my honest take.

Why Tbilisi? My Accidental Discovery

It started with burnout in Bali. I’d splurged $1,800 a month on a basic setup—rent, food, co-working passes—and still fought daily power outages. A Reddit thread mentioned Tbilisi as a “secret hub” with Soviet-era charm meets modern perks. Flights from Istanbul were dirt cheap, so I booked a one-way ticket.

Landing at the airport felt like stepping into a time warp. The terminal was sleek, with free Wi-Fi that actually worked. My taxi driver, a chatty guy named Giorgi, blasted Georgian folk music while navigating smooth highways into the city. No potholes, no cows blocking the road like in Ubud. That first night, I crashed in a $25 Airbnb overlooking the Mtkvari River, wondering if I’d found nomad nirvana.

One anecdote stands out: My first grocery run at a local Carrefour. I loaded up on fresh khachapuri (cheese bread heaven) and local wine for under $10. In Bali, a similar haul would’ve cost double, plus the hassle of bargaining at markets. Tbilisi felt immediately livable—no tourist traps, just real life.

Breaking Down the Costs: Half the Price, Double the Value

Let’s talk numbers. In Bali, my monthly budget hovered around $1,500–2,000 for a decent life. Rent for a one-bedroom in Canggu? Easily $800. Co-working? $200. Food and transport? Another $500, if you avoided overpriced cafes.

Tbilisi slashed that in half. I rented a cozy, furnished apartment in the trendy Vake neighborhood for $400 a month—central heating included, which Bali villas often lack. Groceries ran $150–200; think seasonal produce, meats, and that addictive Georgian bread. Eating out? A full meal with wine at a traditional supra (feast) spot cost $5–10 per person.

Transport was a steal too. The metro and buses are efficient and cheap—$0.20 a ride—versus Bali’s $50 monthly scooter rental plus gas. Internet? Unlimited fiber-optic for $10/month, faster than Bali’s average 20Mbps. My total spend? Around $800–1,000 monthly, leaving room for weekend trips to the Caucasus Mountains.

Personally, this freed me up big time. In Bali, I skimped on experiences to afford basics. In Tbilisi, I treated myself to a $20 cooking class where I learned to make khinkali dumplings. The savings let me extend my stay without dipping into savings—pure nomad bliss.

Infrastructure That Doesn’t Let You Down

Bali’s infrastructure is a mixed bag. Great beaches, but expect gridlocked roads, unreliable power, and Wi-Fi that drops during monsoons. Tbilisi? It’s built like a tank. The city’s Soviet legacy means sturdy grids—electricity and water are reliable 99% of the time. I never once lost power mid-Zoom call.

Internet speeds averaged 100–300Mbps in my apartment and cafes, thanks to widespread fiber. Co-working spaces like Impact Hub charge $100/month for 24/7 access with ergonomic setups—cheaper and more professional than Bali’s beachside spots.

Public transport shines too. The metro is clean, air-conditioned, and runs on time, connecting the airport to downtown in 30 minutes. Buses and marshrutkas (minivans) cover everywhere else affordably. No need for a scooter; I walked or hopped on for errands.

A funny story: During a rare snowstorm (Tbilisi gets real winters), I worried about work. But the city plowed roads overnight, and my internet held steady. In Bali, a light rain once flooded my street, stranding me for hours. Tbilisi’s resilience made remote work feel seamless, not stressful.

Daily Life and Hidden Gems: Beyond the Work Grind

Tbilisi isn’t just cheap—it’s soulful. The old town, with its colorful balconies and sulfur baths, feels like a fairy tale. I spent mornings at Fabrika, a hip co-working hostel in a former Soviet factory, surrounded by artists and entrepreneurs.

Food is a highlight. Georgian cuisine is hearty and wine-focused—the country claims to have invented wine 8,000 years ago. I joined a supra dinner with locals, toasting with homemade chacha (grappa) while debating politics. Cost? $15, including endless food.

Nature calls too. A $10 bus ride gets you to Kazbegi for hiking in snow-capped peaks—fresher air than Bali’s humid jungles. I met fellow nomads at wine bars, swapping stories over qvevri-aged reds.

One personal gem: Exploring the Dry Bridge flea market. I haggled for a vintage Soviet camera for $20, then photographed street art in the New Tiflis district. It’s these unscripted moments that made Tbilisi feel authentic, not Instagram-curated like Bali.

Weekends offered balance. I hiked to ancient monasteries or soaked in hot springs—rejuvenating after long coding sessions. The expat community is small but welcoming; I connected with Russians, Ukrainians, and Europeans fleeing pricier spots.

The Challenges: It’s Not All Perfect, But Worth It

No paradise is flawless. Tbilisi’s winters are cold—down to freezing—and summers hit 95°F. Language barriers exist; Georgian script looks alien, though most young people speak English or Russian.

Visa-wise, Georgia offers a one-year stay for many nationalities, but bureaucracy can be slow. Air quality dips in winter from heating, and the nightlife skews boozy—not everyone’s vibe.

I faced a hiccup when my apartment’s heater broke during a cold snap. But the landlord fixed it same-day, unlike Bali’s “island time” delays. Politically, Georgia’s tensions with Russia add edge, but the city felt safe—safer than Bali’s petty theft risks.

Despite this, the pros dominate. Half Bali’s cost, superior infrastructure, and genuine culture make it a winner. I left refreshed, with new friends and skills (like basic Georgian phrases).

If you’re tired of overhyped spots, give Tbilisi a shot. It’s the digital nomad paradise no one talks about—for good reason. They want to keep it secret. Pack your bags; you won’t regret it.