21 June 2026
Summer cooling on a boulevard guesthouse
Split units on every balcony look like comfort. On the incoming meter they look like a second kitchen that never closes.
Adjara summers push humidity into rooms that were built for a milder idea of July. Owners respond with a split unit in each chamber because guests now ask for it in the listing. The outdoor units sit on brackets that drip onto the neighbour’s awning. The indoor units sit on a wall that used to hold a painting.
From the incoming meter, that is a row of compressors that start together when the afternoon sun hits the west wall. A guesthouse with nine rooms can outdraw its small breakfast kitchen for six hours. The bill does not say “west wall.” It says a number in lari.
A walk-through that only names the plant will not catch this; the plant room may hold a water heater and nothing else. The cooling lives on the façades. We count outdoor units, note which rooms they serve, and, on a survey day, watch the incoming register through the hot hours. Shading a west wall is not our trade. Showing that the register climbs with the sun is.