Chateau Dio in Ambrolauri

If the place looks nice, in a pretty garden surrounded by vineyards, don't be fooled: the owner is the most unpleasant person we met in Georgia. The welcome: not a word, not a smile, not a glance, not an explanation about how the place works. At most, a conversation about meal times via a translator: I ask for 7:30 p.m., it will be 8 p.m., no discussion. We arrive at our stiflingly hot chalet. There is air conditioning, but the remote control doesn't work. When it's time for dinner, we head to the garden where a few tables are set up in the shade of the vines. Let's be positive, it'll be nice. The cook points to a door at the back of her kitchen. We enter, and the place is freezing, both in temperature and atmosphere. A large room lit by harsh white halogen lights, a single small window with a bush blocking the view, and two place settings. The cook closes the door behind us. The feeling of being punished... My partner goes back out to ask if we can have dinner outside, like the other guests, and comes face to face with the owner. His response is final: he shakes his head, still without a smile or a word, and closes the door on her. We're stuck for good, and all we can do is tell ourselves that we've had the worst hotel experience of our live.