What happened to my wedding ring?

Copyright Susanna Melo, 2011

Susanna and I visited the bath district near the Mtkvari (Kura) River in Old Tbilisi. The three baths were built between the 17^th and 19^th centuries. We first looked at the Royal Baths and then the Sulfur Baths, which from the outside look like small domes at ground level. We decided to give our business to Orbeliani Baths, which are located in a building that resembles a Turkish mosque. It is is decorated on the outside with beautiful blue tiles and has minarets on top. We paid for one hour’s worth of time in a private area. Before entering the bathing area, we removed and hung our clothes in a steamy wet area with a plastic table and two chairs. Then we climbed into a waist-high tub of hot mineral water. Of course, instead of hiring a room, you can use the larger public area for less money. In the public room, people not only go to wash themselves, but they also socialize.

Susanna and I enjoy our bath.

The tub was full of water that came from hot sulfur springs deep in the earth. Sulfur, of course, smells bad—think rotten eggs—but for some reason it didn’t bother me at all after the first minute. The water was hot—38-40C (100-104F), and it felt invigorating.

I paid for a scrub (massages are also available). As I laid on a tiled elevated massage “table,” a man used two coarse mitts to scrape away any dirt and dead skin from my body. Then he used a bag of soapsuds to wash me.

In the 5th century, Georgian King Vakhtang Gorgasali was hunting and shot a pheasant, which fell into a warm spring and was boiled. The king decided to found a city on this site and he called it Tbilisi. Tbili means “warm” in Georgian.

And my wedding ring? My silver ring was badly tarnished by the sulfur, but two days later it has almost recovered its original shine. I’ve heard it will return to normal in two more days.