Discover the best time of year, based on historical climate, temperature, and precipitation.
The best weather in Kutaisi is from April, May, September. — some variation climate
🌧Rainy
| Score | 8 | 18 | 30 | 74 | 71 | 66 | 65 | 61 | 71 | 64 | 46 | 15 |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Climate | Cold | Cold | Cold | Cool & rainy | Rainy | Rainy | Rainy | Hot & rainy | Rainy | Cool & rainy | Cool & rainy | Cold |
| Temperature | 2–9°C | 3–11°C | 5–14°C | 9–19°C | 13–23°C | 18–27°C | 20–28°C | 21–31°C | 18–27°C | 12–21°C | 8–16°C | 4–11°C |
| Feels like | -2–6°C | -1–8°C | 2–11°C | 6–18°C | 12–23°C | 19–30°C | 22–31°C | 23–33°C | 18–27°C | 11–20°C | 4–13°C | 0–8°C |
| Precipitation | 187mm 20 days | 158mm 18 days | 175mm 21 days | 125mm 16 days | 152mm 17 days | 182mm 19 days | 172mm 22 days | 106mm 14 days | 155mm 14 days | 190mm 16 days | 164mm 15 days | 177mm 17 days |
| Sunshine | 4.9h ☀︎ 52% | 6.0h ☀︎ 57% | 6.1h ☀︎ 51% | 9.1h ☀︎ 68% | 9.8h ☀︎ 67% | 11.4h ☀︎ 75% | 11.3h ☀︎ 76% | 11.7h ☀︎ 85% | 10.3h ☀︎ 82% | 7.9h ☀︎ 71% | 6.7h ☀︎ 69% | 5.4h ☀︎ 59% |
| Wind | NE · 20 km/h | NE · 19 km/h | NE · 21 km/h | N · 21 km/h | NW · 19 km/h | W · 18 km/h | W · 18 km/h | W · 19 km/h | NE · 19 km/h | NE · 19 km/h | E · 19 km/h | E · 20 km/h |
| Humidity (%) | 71% | 73% | 72% | 70% | 75% | 78% | 79% | 74% | 70% | 72% | 70% | 70% |
| Day length | 9.5h | 10.6h | 11.9h | 13.4h | 14.6h | 15.2h | 14.9h | 13.9h | 12.5h | 11.1h | 9.8h | 9.1h |
Kutaisi's calendar holds a sharp paradox: its absolute crowd peak arrives in the damp, fading chill of November, while its finest weather unfolds in mid-spring with unhurried streets.
Spanning both banks of the rushing Rioni River in the lush bowl of the Imereti lowlands, Kutaisi carries the unvarnished weight of one of the world's oldest inhabited cities. It does not possess the polished stagecraft of Tbilisi or the high-rise coastal sprawl of Batumi. Instead, it offers tiered streets of peeling 19th-century brick, vine-draped wooden balconies, and the green hills that once anchored the ancient Kingdom of Colchis. People come to touch this deep historic bedrock, gazing across the river gorge toward the hilltop silhouette of Bagrati Cathedral. Yet timing a visit here requires seeing past tourist habits: the city’s crowds inexplicably surge just as the weather turns sour and raw, while the golden window slips by almost unnoticed.
April is the finest moment to walk into Kutaisi, though tourist numbers remain gentle. The fierce mountain run-off swells the turquoise and white rapids beneath the White Bridge, sending cool, fresh drafts into the riverbank streets. Afternoon air settles into an effortless warmth, hovering around eighteen to twenty degrees, where a light sweater is all you will ever need. It is also the driest stretch the valley sees, with rains arriving as brief, crisp interludes rather than the unrelenting grey downpours that define winter.
By May, the surrounding hills of Imereti erupt into vivid, saturated green, and the city’s unhurried rhythm spills into the open air. Planters around Central Square fill with blooms, and the gilded mythological animals of the Colchis Fountain gleam under long afternoons of nine to ten hours of sunlight. The heat begins to build, but it remains buoyant and dry enough for climbing the cobbled lanes up to Bagrati Cathedral without breaking into a heavy sweat.
If you want the version of Kutaisi that invites you to linger on park benches and pace the bridges without fighting umbrellas or dodging sticky heatwaves, this two-month pocket is the only time that delivers on every front.
Summer in Kutaisi is a heavy, languid affair. Sheltered by surrounding mountain ridges, the valley traps heat and moisture, turning midsummer into a greenhouse. Even when afternoon highs register around thirty degrees, the humidity pushes the apparent temperature closer to thirty-three. The stones of the old town radiate warmth long after dusk, and the midday sun drives nearly everyone off the pavements and behind thick curtains.
Tourism climbs toward its high season regardless of the swelter. Tour groups fill the pedestrian zones, and the pace slows to an unavoidable crawl. You do not explore the city at noon in July or August; you retreat indoors until five in the afternoon, emerging only when the sun dips behind the western bluffs and the breeze off the Rioni River offers tentative relief.
Rain still makes frequent appearances, falling in short, sharp cloudbursts that clear quickly under strong eleven-hour sun days but leave the streets steaming. If you find yourself here in late summer, align your day with the local clock: start early, retreat for an afternoon rest, and save your walking for the twilight hours along the water.
September brings an immediate and welcome reprieve. The oppressive summer haze lifts, daytime temperatures drop back into the comfortable mid-twenties, and the surrounding countryside shifts into the energy of the grape harvest. For two or three weeks, the city regains the easygoing charm of late spring, with lively evening strolls around Central Square and golden afternoon light illuminating the limestone facades.
That grace period narrows quickly by October. While temperatures stay mild, hovering around twenty degrees, the autumn storm systems roll in from the Black Sea with real muscle. Rain intensity climbs noticeably, shifting from ambient drizzle into sustained, plan-altering downpours that soak the river basin.
Visiting in October means trading dry walking shoes for an umbrella and accepting that afternoons will often be spent sheltered inside quiet museums or under awnings watching rainwater pour off corrugated tin roofs into the rushing river below.
November presents the city’s strangest dynamic: it is the single most crowded month of the year, despite offering genuinely grim weather. Temperatures slide toward thirteen degrees, cloud cover settles over the valley like a damp blanket, and heavy rainstorms batter the cobbles with regularity. Yet visitors pour in, packing the streets and filling every central thoroughfare.
December continues the damp, bone-chilling pattern while foot traffic remains near peak levels. The air feels raw and clings to your skin at seven or eight degrees, amplified by high humidity and cold winds whistling along the gorge of the Rioni River. Sunlight drops to a meager five hours a day, meaning twilight arrives early and envelopes the old quarters in grey mist.
Traveling here in late autumn or early winter requires stamina and heavy waterproofs. The city takes on a moody, cinematic character when mist cloaks the dome of Bagrati Cathedral, but the sheer volume of other travelers combined with bleak weather makes this the hardest window to navigate comfortably.
Deep winter in Kutaisi is cold, wet, and decidedly quiet. January sits as the most inhospitable month on the calendar, where temperatures rarely climb above nine degrees and apparent chill hovers near freezing. The valley’s signature moisture makes the cold cut deeper than the raw figures suggest, seeping through coats and keeping the riverbanks slick with rain and damp moss.
February brings only minor improvements, though daylight begins a slow recovery. By March, daytime highs push toward fourteen degrees, but rainfall remains stubborn, with drenching showers that leave the city sodden and mud-splattered. The hills remain brown and dormant, and street life is practically nonexistent.
Unless your journey specifically demands an empty, solitary atmosphere where you can stand alone in rain-swept courtyards, save Kutaisi for the turn of the season. The few degrees gained between late March and mid-April make all the difference between enduring the city and savoring it.