Amber-colored wine. In Georgia.

Until I arrived in Georgia, I thought I understood wine.

Wine is either white or red.
In Japan, that is the case.
In Georgia, it was different.

I look at the menu in a restaurant.
"Amber wine," it says, amber-colored wine.
Amber.
Neither white nor red.

I ordered it.

The wine that was brought to me was truly amber.
An orange-tinted golden color.
I tilted the glass and took a sip.
It is unique.

The freshness of a white wine.
But, the astringency of a red wine.
It has tannins.
It is a mysterious taste.

"What is this made from?"
"White grapes. We ferment them with the skins."

White grapes, with the skins.
That is why it becomes amber.

They say it has a history of eight thousand years.
The world's oldest wine-producing region.
Georgia.

I ordered another glass.
Together with roasted meat and cheese.
It goes well with salty dishes.
Delicious.

Georgia is comfortable.
The people are kind.
The food is good.
The wine is amber.
And, it is easy to get a visa.
Japanese people can stay for one year.
I ended up staying a long time.

I intended to stay for a week, but it became two weeks.
I intended to stay for two weeks, but it became a month.
Before I knew it, I had been here the whole time.

Amber wine.
It would probably sell well in Japan, too.

I tilted my glass again.
The amber color, shining through the light, is beautiful.

—Ah, once again, a soliloquy in a strange foreign land.