From Tbilisi to Mestia by plane.

Tuesday arrived and with it my third goodbye to Tbilisi. This time, though, it didn't coincide with a goodbye to Georgia. After two times fruitlessly trying to go to Svaneti, but put down by the 9-10 hours of bus needed, I found a quick and cheap way. For 60 Lari (a bit more than 20 €) you can fly to Mestia from Tbilisi on a Let L-410 Turbolet, a small turbine-propelled short-range airplane. I remember seeing this also last time, but I found no feedback online and some websites even disagreed on whether the fleet was operating or not. So I simply wrote them from Italy, they confirmed they were operating, and I booked a one-way flight.

 

The morning of the flight I reached the rendez-vous point, near the Rustaveli Metro station. A minivan drove us to Natakhtari, a village out of Tbilisi where there is a small civilian airfield, and after some check about the weather in the Svaneti check-in started. Of course, the presence of the oscilloscope in my backpack didn't pass unnoticed and a few alarmed men asked me what it was. I showed it, handed over the Russian manual, but they were puzzled, mostly because they probably didn't see such a device in their whole life. They asked me what it was for, and I realised it's not easy to quickly explain what an oscilloscope does, especially to a worried person with a better grasp of Russian than English. Finally, another man came, checked it out and gave his blessing. He probably eats Soviet oscilloscopes for breakfast.

 

Best thing in this is that, during the whole oscilloscope fuss, one of my bags didn't go through the scanner. Good job, tovarisch.

 

After all else was done, and the good weather was confirmed, we could board the craft.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The pilot looked (and spoke) Russian, and had a rather friendly face and attitude. He explained us the usual drill in English and Russian, and then we where ready to take off. I never flew in such a small plane before, especially never in a turbine-propelled one. I was rightly excited, and had my camera ready.

 

 

 

 

 

To be honest, the first part was nice but nothing special. The weather was cloudy, so everything appeared grey, and when proper clouds showed up, they were cool to look at, but not for more than 10 minutes. Plus, I though I got the short end of the stick, as I sat on the left side, and going westbound the best landscape appeared to be visible from the right seats.

Then we got close to the mountainous area and the magic began.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After almost 30 minutes of such incredible landscape, we finally reached Mestia. It's characteristic defensive towers, dating back to IX Century and called koshki, were clearly visible from above.

 

 

 

One thing I didn't know of such small aircraft is that because they are relatively slow (slower than jets) are much more manoeuvrable and, as such, don't need a long landing approach. This thing almost dived once we were in range of the landing strip, going from a discrete altitude to the ground in a very little time. Got surely surprised!

By the way, you cannot possibly understand how cute the Queen Tamar airport is. It's the size of a large bar and brand new. A stark contrast with the rural surroundings.

 

 

 

Anyway, here's another step of the trip. The sun was shining, the temperature very pleasant yet cold (around 4/5° only). It was time to reach the guesthouse, put my things down and explore Mestia with the remaining hours of sunlight.

Budapest... again.

Seems like I can’t really do a trip without something embarrassing. Yesterday, after spending a nice afternoon with Anna and her friend Judit taking pictures in a park, I headed for the airport, next destination: Kutaisi, Georgia. Little I knew my actual next destination was Dumbasstan. Once in the airport terminal I checked the board and didn’t see my flight to Kutaisi. Weird. I checked again, then checked the boarding pass. And well, here we go. My well documented fear of missing flights, that usually makes me arrive quite earlier, did the trick.

I went to the airport day one day before.

That’s some earlier. So, after a quiet retreat from the airport, I took the bus to Budapest again, and the fun began. Anna had to wake up very early the day after, so she went full-scale Defcon 1 emergency mode. Attempt to calm here proved rather useless, until Adrienn kindly took me in. After another hour-long trip from the airport to the city, I met her and we went drinking, to say goodbye to a long day (for both) and to forget my utter dumbness.

The day after, Adrienn kindly showed me around, starting from an awesome food joint with delicious soups and sandwiches, Bors. Then we went to Buda, where the citadella, the castle and Saint Mathias church (Mátyás-templom) are. The church itself is absolutely beautiful, shame for the Hilton built next to it, although I have to say that the church reflection in the large glass windows offers a pleasant sight.

Other than the church, the hilltop site provides a wonderful view of the Danube river and the Palace of Parliament, one of the most beautiful buildings in Budapest, built in gothic and renaissance revival style. Its dark red dome dominates the white stone of the structures, as well as the innumerable spires.

The citadella and castle area is also a repository or beautiful sights. Smaller churches, beautiful palaces with detailed sculptures. One example is Mary Magdalene church (Mária Magdolna-templom). Of which just the tower remains. During the Ottoman Occupation of Hungary, it was the only functioning Christian church in the country, until its transformation to a mosque in the 16th century. Its original function was later restored and it served as the coronation venue for Franz I of Hungary. It suffered severe damage throughout the World Wars, and it was almost completely destroyed during the Communist Era - with the exception of its Gothic belfry and some minor sections. Today, its ruins serve as a memento of the unpardonable cultural destruction of Communist times.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Truly Budapest is a sight to behold. After this long and tiring walk, we went back home, crossing the Danube, which offered the expect magnificent sight, and we passed close to Saint Stephen's Basilica (Szent István-bazilika). At 96 meters, it's one of the two tallest building of Budapest (it's equal to the Palace of the Parliament, symbolisying that worldly and spiritual thinking have the same importance).

After resting a bit I finally gathered my stuff and went out, this time the right day to take off to Georgia. Once in the terminal I made myself recognisable again queuing for a brief moment on the check-in for Tel Aviv, but I soon realised the mistake and very naturally pretended I was just loitering around, slowly and indifferently moving away. The Mossad probably kept an eye on me. Shalom! Once I found the right line, however, and heard Georgian being spoken, I relaxed.

Highlight of the evening: the actual gate, a makeshift prefab room much closer to the actual landing strips.

Well, who cares. საქართველო, მოვდივარ!

 

(The highlight of the evening was actually one of the two Hungarian hostesses. Schicchi wasn't a fool, after all!)

Here we go again

- "Don't you feel lonely when you travel alone?"

All solo travellers heard this at least once, asked by friends, relatives, or simple people you talk to. That mix of doubt, suspect and pity in their eyes. But nothing can explain the feel of being out there in the world, alone but never really lonely, because hey, it's a busy planet.

Not tonight.

Not in the bus.

Well, it's 05:20am, so no wonder there's little company around. My trip starts now. First stop, Budapest. Than back to my beloved Georgia, where I'll finally be able to eat khachapuri again and to show the world I didn't learn much language-wise. Also, this time I'm not only going to export, but also import, as my friend Tiko entrusted me with some goods. Well, we have a long merchant tradition, after all.

I'm also quite excited to see Budapest again, though. I visited it years ago, but this time, when I say "years ago" I mean it. We're talking 25 years ago or something... guess this counts as the first time again, right?

And speaking of first times, this is the first time I use the electronic boarding pass. All wonderfully smooth. Also, first time they don't ask me to remove shoes. Unfortunately no first time without assholes in the airport. There's never shortage of those.

The trip has been remarkably smooth. There was, of course, an infant, but he cried during landing only, understandably, as pressure change is always annoying. The hostess spoke an unintelligible mix of English, Hungarian, parseltongue and Epson printer noises. All went according to plans. Well, almost everything. As another "first", I got my first outbound flight without applauses at the end. As I don't believe in human evolution, I can only thing that some extremely popular comedian made fun of the practice, enough to make people realise it's stupid.

Budapest welcomed me with rain, a bomb alert in the airport and an ATM that proposed me to withdraw 1000 €.

Not bad for a start. Not bad.

Please, follow us...

...and they never saw him again.

OK, it didn't actually happen, but the 15 minutes at Yerevan passport control, against the 15/20 seconds of everyone else, have been... harrowing. The officer kept looking at the first page through some small magnifying glass, he called two other officers and a guard, kept looking at me, looked through the magnifying glass again, asked to see both boarding passes (Milan>Moscow and Moscow>Yerevan) and if I had another document with me, which I didn't. Then he used the magnifying glass again and passed it to the other officer so he could do the same. Then looked at me again, at which point I was genuinely scared, but then he let me go. Seems like Armenia doesn't love me as much as I love it, judging by how troublesome are my border affairs.

In the end everything was OK, and as soon as I got to the baggage claim I spotted my backpack on the belt, which greatly improved my mood, as I was a bit worried by the short layover in Moscow. I didn't have the guts to check if the gods of travellers kept my treats safe from harm, though.

I then met the awesome Tatev and her awesome friends, who awesomely picked me up (at damn 02:00am) and awesomely drove me to the hostel. Apparently, when I was out of the car to withdraw money, a famous Armenian soap opera actor offered his help to park the car. Why do I miss all the funny bits? And the ATM didn't even work! Anyway, time to call it a night and considering it's 03:40am, no truer words were spoken.

Cacasian Walk - part II

Seems like I cannot really stay away from Armenia and Georgia. Maybe it for this reason that I am on a Transaero flight heading to Yerevan, through Moscow, where I am now. Next to me, on the first flight, sat two of the most Russian men I ever seen. I would like to continue with a long series of stereotypes (vodka, bears, annexions), but the seat is narrow and typing is difficult, so I will abstain, I will just mention that my iPad, which I clumsily dropped some weeks ago, has now some sort of seemingly permanent colour display damage, which could prove an issue when editing photos. Yesterday the problem disappeared, to appear again today. Damn. But now I know it's only half-permanent, so I will try to find a solution.

Last flight - Istanbul to Orio al Serio

Pegasus Airlines really know how to break a man. No waterboarding or other forms of physical torture. No, five hours of layover at this time (08:00am), in an airport without free wifi, will really bend a man's will.

After a hour you resist. After two you start obsessively checking hotspots, hoping that some free ones will miraculously appear. After three hours you'd do anything, like buying a watered down cappuccino and a cardboard cake, just 'cause they'll magnanimously concede a hour of wifi.

Anyway, for one of the last entries in my Caucasian Walk travelog I want to thank Gaga and Zon, the best guys at the Grand Theft Hostel in Tbilsi.

Gaga

Zon

Hope to see you soon somewhere! Possibly Milan, I can't take another Pegasus torture anytime soon!

Last day in Tbilisi

My last Caucasian day has been as I had assumed. Tiresome. I woke up well intentioned to buy a chokha, but fate conspired against me, under the guise of a damn debit card which claimed I had insufficient funds. I immediately checked and no, I had more than enough funds. Dammit, Unicredit! You and your stupid foreign limit! I had already tried it and it was amazing!

It didn't matter though, I just spent the rest of the day wandering the Old Town, retaking pictures (there was the sun this time!) and eating. Eating a lot!

Coming back to the hostel I noticed that not far from Marjanishvili square there was an art exhibit, the personal of painter Kakha Khinveli (http://www.artvladis.com/khinveli/). I, of course, had no idea what to expect, but I was captured by his almost comic-like approach to scenes and dynamics.

After that, it was time for the CouchSurfing meeting. Actually called "The BIG CS Meeting", with 109 alleged partecipants and more or less 30 actually bothering to show up. I knew CouchSurfing meetings are extra boring, after all, which is the reason I left with a couple of other dudes and went to the Canudos. And there is where I finally realised I am an EXTRA BORING person, as they both vanished while I was at the toilette. Way to end a great vacation!

Anyway, here I am, at the Tbilisi International Airport, waiting to be embarked and with a kid already crying in the lounge.

It will be a loooooong way home...

Flight 1 - Bergamo to Istanbul

I will summarise the flight to Istanbul with a few simple and short concepts. Kids never ever shutting up, large men (who could be extras in some Balkan crime movie) becoming all sweaty and squeamish for a couple of drops and final applauses. Fortunately, all of them are staying here. Especially the applauses.

Also, there is not a single proper Turkish food joint in this zone of the airport. But there's plenty of McDonald's, Burger King, Trattoria Milano, Starbucks, Sbarro (please...), you have really everything you like.

If you're a white trash tourist, that's it.