This City Stands Upon A Hill, At The Foot Of Which Runs The River _Tigre_, And It Is Defended By A Good Castle On The Summit Of An Eminence.

It was formerly a celebrated place, but is at present almost utterly ruined, though beginning to revive, and contains many good catholics.

In this place we took up our lodgings with a person named Arminius, of the catholic faith. In travelling through Georgia, we found a few villages composed of huts, and some castles among the mountains, but these were rare and distant.

On the 19th of July, being near the frontiers of Mingrelia, we chanced to meet with Pangratius, king of Georgia, in the midst of a forest surrounded by mountains, and went to pay our respects to him, when he invited us to dinner. We had to sit on the ground, having a skin spread before us instead of a table-cloth, and were served with roasted meat and fowls, very ill dressed; but, by way of making amends, they frequently presented us with large goblets of wine, as they seem to place all dignity and merit in deep drinking. For this reason it is their custom, at the conclusion of their meals, to challenge one another to drink, and he who empties the greatest number of goblets, is held in highest esteem. As the Turks drink no wine, their presence was some restraint that day on their usual bacchanalian contests, and as we neither could nor would compete with them, we were held in great contempt.

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