Lisi Lake Guide: History, Nature & Things to Do on Lisi

Lisi Lake (Georgian: ლისის ტბა, Lisis Tba) is a small natural lake on the north-western edge of Tbilisi, sitting at around 624 metres above sea level in the Kura River valley and ringed by a three-kilometre walking and cycling path. It is where the capital comes to breathe: runners at dawn, families on the pebble beach in August, cyclists circling the water at sunset, and - increasingly, a neighbourhood being rebuilt around it.

Most visitors to Lisi Lake, Tbilisi arrive knowing only that it is “the lake near Saburtalo.” Far fewer know that it nearly disappeared in the 1990s, that its recreation area was laid out under Soviet planners in 1937, or that it is currently at the centre of the most ambitious residential development in the city.

This guide covers all of it: where the lake came from, what it looks like today, how to get there, what to do season by season, and what is being built next.

Lisi Lake is a natural body of water, not a reservoir, a distinction worth making, since so much of Tbilisi’s other “lake,” the Tbilisi Sea, is engineered. It sits in a shallow depression within the Tbilisi basin, part of the wider Kura (Mtkvari) valley system, and is fed by precipitation, groundwater, and a handful of small streams and channels rather than by a river.

The basin is usually described as tectonic in origin, formed by the same geological movements that shaped the ridges around the city. The land surrounding it is rocky, arid and steppe-like closer to dry grassland than to forest, which explains both the lake’s exposed, wide-sky character and the long history of people trying to plant trees around it.
 

The most commonly repeated explanation is botanical: a marsh and steppe grass known locally as lisi once grew thickly along the shoreline, and the lake took its name from the plant. It is a plausible and widely cited etymology, though not one that has been settled academically - treat it as local tradition rather than documented fact.
 

Lisi’s modern life as a leisure destination began in the 1930s. According to Georgia’s national tourism authority, construction of the recreation area around the lake started in 1937, and roughly 1,400 plants were put into the ground in an effort to green an environment that was, by nature, dry and bare.

The intent was recognisably Soviet: turn an unremarkable body of water on the city’s edge into public infrastructure for rest and health. In practice it worked. Generations of Tbilisi residents came to treat Lisi as a free, open-air alternative to a sanatorium, mineral-rich water, clean air, no ticket required. That role has never really changed.
 

The most dramatic chapter in Lisi Lake’s history is also the least told. After Georgian independence, with maintenance systems collapsing and water management neglected, the lake began to shrink badly.

Georgian business outlet BM.ge documented the episode in its reporting on the “Lisi challenge.” Environmental expert Nino Chkhobadze recalled the water level dropping to roughly 20 centimetres before a city commission stepped in. Ramaz Akhvlediani, who operated the complex, described the solution: groundwater was drilled on the Nutsubidze Plateau, a pumping station was built, and a pipeline running some three kilometres began delivering around 500 cubic metres of water a day to refill the basin.

In other words, the Lisi Lake that people swim in today is not simply a survivor. It was deliberately brought back.

The single most-used feature at Lisi Lake is the paved loop around it roughly three kilometres, flat, and busy from early morning until well after dark. It is arguably Tbilisi’s default running route, and it doubles as a cycling and walking circuit. Bikes are available to rent on site, as are kayaks and pedal boats for getting out onto the water itself.

A children’s playground sits near the main entrance, and there is a climbing wall on the shore, reported at around 9.2 metres with eight top-rope routes.
 

Yes, people swim at Lisi Lake, and summer is when the place is fullest. The lake is shallow with a pebble and rocky bottom, and the water warms up considerably. Georgia’s tourism board cites around 28 °C at the height of summer. Sun loungers can be rented along the small beach.

Two practical notes. There are no lifeguards, so swimming is at your own risk. And the shallowness that makes Lisi less impressive than the Tbilisi Sea is exactly what makes it a calmer choice for families with young children.

For a lake inside a capital city, Lisi supports a surprising amount of life. The surrounding steppe and rocky slopes host ducks, herons, birds of prey, turtles, foxes and hares, and the area is a genuinely good birdwatching spot during migration seasons. Snakes live in the surrounding hills, which is a reason to stay on marked paths if you wander uphill.

It would be dishonest to present the ecology as untroubled. Water levels still fluctuate, and runoff pressure from construction in the surrounding hills remains a live concern raised by environmental specialists. The lake’s health is actively managed rather than automatic - something the 1990s made unmistakable.

There is also a dog shelter on site, where visitors can take rescue dogs out for a walk around the loop.
 

The dry hillsides that Soviet planners once struggled to green are now among the most sought-after addresses in Tbilisi. 

Among the newest is The Lake by Placemakers, a community of 90 villas and houses spread across 14 hectares overlooking the water, roughly 7 km from the city centre. Villas in the scheme run from around 500 to 800 m², with smaller houses in the 200–400 m² range.

For visitors, this matters less as a property story than as a signal: the infrastructure around Lisi roads, cafés, services, footpaths - is being rebuilt at speed, and the lake you visit in three years will not look like the one you visit today.

Summer (June–August) is swimming season and peak crowds. Go early in the morning or in the hour before sunset - midday brings both heat and traffic. There is very little natural shade on the loop, so bring a hat, sunglasses and water.

Spring (April–May) may be the prettiest window: the slopes green up, wildflowers and poppy fields appear, and temperatures stay comfortable for the full 3 km circuit.

Autumn (September–October) is the quiet favourite - warm water lingering into September, thinner crowds, and cheaper bike rental.

Winter turns Lisi minimalist: bare hills, low light, and mostly runners and walkers. The sulfur bath and several cafés stay open, which makes a cold-weather visit surprisingly appealing.

One practical warning year-round: some of the clay path sections off the paved loop get genuinely slippery after rain.

If you have one afternoon, Lisi offers the best balance of space, activity and quiet. If you want forest and a cable car, choose Turtle Lake. If you want to actually swim distances, the Tbilisi Sea is the only real option - though it is deeper and choppier, and less suitable for children.

Nearby, you can pair a Lisi visit with Vake Park, Mtatsminda, or the Open Air Museum of Ethnography.

Lisi Lake has been re-made roughly once a generation - planted in 1937, rescued in the 1990s, developed from 2007. The current chapter is the most visible yet.

The centrepiece is The Lakehouse, a social hub being designed by the Norwegian architecture practice Snøhetta in collaboration with developer Placemakers and operator Salt. At around 4,000 m², the building is planned to hold high-end restaurants, a pool, a spa and wellness facility, a fitness centre and office space.

The detail that makes it relevant to ordinary lake visitors, rather than just to residents, is that it is being designed to serve external guests as well - meaning that a walk around the loop may eventually end with a swim, a sauna or dinner in a Snøhetta-designed building on the shore.
 

The scale is substantial: Placemakers has reported raising a US$50 million investment for the project, with partners including TBC Bank. Per the developer’s own timeline, the first phase of infrastructure construction is scheduled for completion in Spring 2026, with residents expected to begin moving in from 2029.

These are stated plans rather than finished facts, and construction timelines in Tbilisi have a habit of moving. But the direction is clear enough: the arid hillside that once needed 1,400 hand-planted saplings to look green is becoming one of the most designed pieces of land in Georgia.

 

Yes. Swimming is popular through the summer, and the shallow water warms to around 28 °C on hot days. There are no lifeguards, so swim at your own risk, and note the pebble and rocky bottom.

The fastest way is a taxi or Bolt - 15–20 minutes, roughly 8 GEL from Freedom Square. The budget route is metro to Delisi, then a bus or marshrutka (routes such as 329, 332 or 388) plus a short walk.

No. Entry is free. Parking is paid at around 3 GEL and fills up on summer weekends.

Yes, recreational fishing is popular here, with carp, bream and catfish among the common catches.

It depends what you want. Lisi is larger and less cramped than Turtle Lake and safer for children than the deep Tbilisi Sea, but the Tbilisi Sea is the better choice for genuine open-water swimming.

Walk or run the 3 km loop, visit the Lisi sulfur bath, and use the cafés that stay open. Winter is the calmest, least crowded time to visit.

The paved loop is approximately 3 kilometres, which takes most people 35–45 minutes at a walking pace.