http://davide.cassenti.it/2010/09/01/omalo-virtual/tour/

Tusheti 360 degrees panorama

Stalin

Friday, morning. We’re thinking to go to Gori, the town where Stalin was born on December 1878. The town is less than 100km far from Tbilisi and with the new road built it is possible to reach it in less than an hour. Marshrutkas leave the capital from Didube bus station and in the early morning we are there, looking for one of them; however, when we arrive at the station, we immediatly see a car with a sign: Kazbegi.

Despite we are fed up of mountains, Kazbegi sounds really a nice place to visit: there you can find one of the most famous churches in Georgia, Gergeti, located 2170m high on the mountains. The idea looks good, so we are asking the old driver how long and how much would it be to go there: he says 2.5 hours and 120 lari, two ways. Not so much, but the man looks more a zombie than a real person and we are not that confident on his ability to drive there: despite he follows us for 20 minutes, trying to persuade us to go with him, we finally get rid of him and find a marshrutka going to the same destination.

Forgetting about Gori and Stalin museums, we are sitting on a 10 lari marshrutka which will leave soon to Stepantsminda, formerly known as Kazbegi. It’s in this moment that the role play game adventure begins: for those who doesn’t know, an RPG is a game in which players assume the roles of characters in a fictional setting; usually the characters are strange elfs, dwarfs and any kind of mythological creature and the people sitting in the bus with us are not that less strange.

In the first row of the marshrutka there are some georgian girls: I’m surprised to see they are the most normal people around us, so there’s no need to spend that much time to talk about them; probably the only reason why they are here is to translate to the driver what others are telling in english.

Behind them there are four americans: three of them might look normal, if we don’t consider that the girl is going to Kazbegi with her MacBook Pro, but the fourth has the most ugly combination of clothes and mustaches ever; we might give him the nick name Untrendy Stalin, just to remind our initial plan was to visit Gori. We will know later that one of those four – a chinese/american guy – is also an incredibly polite one, working as a volunteer teacher in Georgia.

The third row is not less crazy: there is a guy from Holland who is talking for a mysterious reason in russian with the american teacher; I first thought he didn’t know english, but I then heard him using the language with others in the bus. Next to him, there are two people: a woman and a jewish man: this last one looks kinda normal, with just the traditional kippah on his head and a pray book; however, when he starts to dress up as a priest to read it we begin to be a bit worried about the company in the marshrutka.

Finally, our row: I would not consider me and Mzia that normal, but next to us there is a couple that is absolutely less than us. The girl is georgian, very silent and calm, while the man is a foreigner, with a strange haircut and a terrible english. It is when we are on the road that he shows off his nationality: he’s italian, complaining about the driver. He is probably in Georgia for the first time, since the driver was not that bad – compared with the usual marshrutka ones: while we are going up on the road, very good and safe, this man starts to scream that he wants to stop to the next village to take a taxi; of course, telling the driver all the bad words he knows in the best language in the World.

His terrible and angry english is translated in polite and calm one by the american teacher and this polite translation is once again translated in georgian by the girls in the first row. However, since I am kind, I suggest him to avoid going down and spending money for a taxi, since anyway he wouldn’t have found anyone driving better. His angryness seems to have made the driver being a bit more careful anyway, but the swears go on until the end of the road. Good for Mzia to learn a bit better more bad words.

As I said, the road is one of the most beautiful I’ve seen in Georgia so far: almost completely paved, it goes up on the mountains without giving any sense of fear. When we arrive on Stepantsminda, as soon as the marshrutka stops, some women coming from the town are already opening the door, looking at the strange people inside and screaming “house, house!“: they could at least learn some more word in english, in order to get tourists at their place, but they seem to have a good success; as it is in our tradition, the italian angry man accepts to go with them only when he is sure there is a kitchen where he might cook himself.

The road to Gergeti church

View from Gergeti

Survived at the first trip, we are ready to visit Gergeti: the village – or the church, which is what we are interested in – is about 7km far from Stepantsminda, but is located 500m higher. We ask a taxi driver how to get there and he says the road is broken and he cannot bring us to the top; however, if we pass the broken road by foot, we would be able to find other cars that might do so. We do accept to go there with him, but when he asks us 20 lari for the 2 minutes road we get quite angry and decide that is better to do the last (and longer) part by foot.

The road is nice and calm, even if very tiring: we are not in a hurry, so we calmly go up arriving at the church in about two hours. The view is really amazing: the weather is nice, sun is shining, and you can see the whole Stepantsminda town and beautiful mountains all around. The only problem is that the church is under repairment, but anyway worths to be seen.

Gergeti church

There is a shortcut to go back to the town: taking it going up would be crazy, since it will bee too tiring, but we decide we want to take it to go back. It’s faster indeed: in about one hour we are back where we started to walk; this time we decide we also don’t need a (20 lari) car to the bus stop and we go on by foot.

The marshrutka that goes to Tbilisi looks less strange than before, but again some weird people are with us. There are two girls, with a very british accent, some georgians, two turkish guys. Some minutes before we leave from Tbilisi, one of the british girls goes down, searching some food: as soon as the driver turns on the marshrutka, the other one begins to scream to stop, that her sister is down and she cannot leave her alone; she is really terrified by the idea, but the driver calms her down saying he’s waiting for the missing people.

Along the road, one of the turkish guys is trying his luck with a red-hair georgian girl who is sitting in the first row; without success, he also tries with the british sisters, but considering how polite they are, it seems a battle lost in the beginning. They are so kind that one of them sits on the other one’s knees in order to let another man sitting in the overcrowded marshrutka.

As it happened in Tusheti as well, we need to stop to change a broken wheel: thanks God this time is quicker, but the road back takes longer than the outward. In about three hours we are finally in Tbilisi and, as the tradition says, there is only one thing to do after a trip in the mountain: running to the pizzeria, as fast as possible.

Panorama of Gergeti

The idea is clear: from Tbilisi, the best way to reach Tusheti is by going to Alvani, a town 2 hours far from the capital. Reached the bus station before 8am, we discover the first Marshrutka would leave at 9: too long to wait, the road will be long and tiring, so we decide to find a taxi. The taxi driver is asking 150 lari, a price that looks good for us, but before we can take it, a man is stopping us, telling he could help more: his name is Mamuka and he has a jeep in Alvani and he is available to take us there with his Marshrutka, then go to Omalo with the car: perfect! We just did not know how much hospitable he would have been next.

In Italy I would never trust someone who says this – and nobody would probably offer anyway – but in Georgia seems to be quite common: jump on his Marshrutka, we immediatly start our trip, destination Alvani, where he lives and he will get his car. Along the road, it looks like this man is very kind: he offers us to be our guide around Tusheti – where he has several houses in different villages – and bring us back to Tbilisi the third day, all for 500 lari (a bit more than 200 euro). Everything looks more and more amazing and we accept: we already had booked the hotel, so it seems we have everything.

The road to Alvani is long, but good: in a couple of hours we arrive at his house, where his mother and some other people are taking a cocktail break in the living room; of course, as the georgian tradition wants, we are forced invited to join and take food and drinks as well. The situation was kinda strange, with those quite-old women drinking on the sofa as they were 20 years old, but after half an hour we are ready to take the jeep and go to Omalo. The distance this time is not so long, just 70km, but the road cannot really be defined so: the more you go far from Alvani, the less large and clean the way is, going up around high mountains 200 or 300 meters sheer, without any protection to make you feel at least a bit safe.

The amazing road to Omalo

Car crashing along the road

Anyway, there is not that much time to feel scared, since the landscape is simply astonishing, the best I’ve ever seen: mountains covered with dark green trees, huge fields, rivers and several waterfalls are all around the 5 hours long road. Omalo is 1800 mt above the sea level, but to reach it the highest point is 2900 mt: we have a stop at the peek, eating some watermelon and taking amazing pictures and fresh, but few, air. After that, the last 20km are missing to reach Omalo: our hotel is a couple of km far from the rest of the village, alone in a wonderful green valley; it is made of wood and looks really inviting and beautiful.

Hotel Tusheti

Our driver seems to be very popular: everyone at the hotel knows him and they are all very friendly. We enter the hotel and discover one strange thing: it looks like most of the people are locals, staying at the hotel for god-knows-which reason. Anyway, they assign us one of the rooms and after we put down our stuffs we have the first surprise: there is no toilet inside the hotel. There are two small ones outside in the yard, as I heard only in my granny’s stories; the washbasin is also outside, in the open air: considering we are spending quite a lot, 50 lari per person, we begin to feel disappointed. The shower is even worse: it’s in the third scary bigger building in the yard, it has no electricity and water is warmed by a fire which is tuned on when the owner wakes up – later than guests, probably. Gosh.

The candle light shower

Outside toilets

Trying not to think about the bathroom issue, we wait the lunch: again, disappointment. The food is less, some old bread and not so tasty cheese, some rice with chicken, some vegetables: nothing so special and the price for food only was 25 lari. We are hungry – and angry, actually – so we eat as much as possible, preparing to go out for our first journey around the region. Mamuka will bring us to visit two villages in the afternoon, Shenako and Diklo, few kilometers far from Omalo: and it is now that the hospitality of this Tushetian man begins to be too much.

The roads to go to the villages are not worse than the one to reach Omalo: the small paths made of ground, surrounded by marvellous landscapes, are not a problem for the 4×4 car that we are using and in few minutes we arrive in Shenako. Along the road, every person met looks to be a relative of our driver: we are stopping every 100m to greet someone, who looks to be a cousin, the best friend or the aunt of Mamuka. We also meet some women with lot of kids – again, somehow relatives – that join us in the car to go to Diklo. The car becomes a school bus, with kids screaming and crying: thanks god the road is not too long and we survive.

Diklo

Other than the friendship, something that captured us about Tushetians is the level of superstition that they have: just before reaching Diklo, one of the woman starts to say that they must get down the car, since it is “forbidden” for women to pass there. It looks like the weather would be terrible for three days if a woman does it, and it is clear they really believe it; however, our driver doesn’t really care and we reach the village without stopping. Again, in the village, there are forbidden places for women: one of those is a small church on top of the town – which Mzia visited anyway; some people are even screaming at the women who try to pass in the forbidden places, showing off again how much they believe to these stories.

Dartlo

Church forbidden to women

On the way back we are again carrying kids, back to the village down; when we are back to the hotel, food is not ready yet, even though we alerted them we were coming back at that time. We are again disappointed by the dinner: same things as the lunch, cold, few and not so tasty; also, as the legend says, it starts to rain: maybe women shouldn’t really pass in those forbidden places or, most probably, it is raining so much in Tusheti that men should find someone to blame. The rain is strong and the toilet is in the muddy yard: better to wait the morning to go there. Disappointment.

The following morning me and Mzia are up quite early: outside is cloudy and clouds are at our level. The place seems unreal, as hidden in the fog, beautiful and magic; it’s cold, very cold and nobody is awake yet. Our other fellow traveller, Natia, is also sleeping as a child in her bed. Waiting for the World to wake up, we took a little walk around; breakfast time comes – no need to say we were not so happy – and later our driver arrives, ready to bring us around for the second day of the trip; of course he is late and the reason is simple: he was asleep. Simple and correct. The destination for today are two: Dartlo and Parsma, where there would even be a huge preparation of khinkali for the third day of the khinklaoba festival. Once again, we are stopping every 100 mt to greet some of the driver’s relative or friend.

Behind the clouds

Dartlo is another nice village, with old buildings in a wonderful nature; after the visit to it, it’s time to go to eat khinkali. But this time, hospitality begins to be too much. Parsma is not as nice as other villages: we need to walk a bit to reach it and we are welcome in one of the – ugly – houses; to say the truth, we are not really so welcome, since one of the woman starts to complain – trying not the be heard – that the house is not a restaurant to host everyone. Outside the rain starts again to fall: we begin to be a bit worried, since the road to that village is even worse than the one to Omalo; meanwhile, our driver has disappeared somewhere out with friends and relatives, not caring about us inside; and khinkali are not yet ready.

It looks like the real reason why the man was so kind with us was that he needed – or wanted – to visit all his relatives in all the possible villages in Tusheti: finding someone who would pay for that is even better, and here is when we join the story. The day is really terrible: we have been waiting around 4 hours for the khinkali, doing nothing inside the small kitchen of the strange house in Parsma. When the rain finally stops, we can take a walk outside: the khinkali are made by anyone in the village, in a small gazebo with the photo of Pelè – power of globalization; tens of people, who probably didn’t see a shower for 10 days, are helping the cooks to make the food. Nice. The eating moment is even better: there is no table, plates are put on the ground and people sit there, ready to eat as much as possible. I just have one khinkali – which I admit was good – praying the Lord and all Thy Saints not to get sick for that. Congratulations to Natia who, not to be unpolite, was brave enough to eat 7 of them.

Making khinkali

Preparation of khinkali

Kid eating khinkali

Due the rain the evening looks to be very close: impatient to go back in that awful road, we have again to wait the driver who is thinking about his business, joking and playing with his friends. One of the man at the “table” even says that Georgians are the most polite and hospitable people in the World, who would always invite guests for a dinner: apart that I would also do that, but one thing he is not considering is if the guest does really want to be invited. However, after another hour of doing nothing, the time to go back finally arrives. At the hotel we meet some italian friends, just arrived from a long trekking in the Caucasus mountains, guests in the same hotel (if I can call it so). This is our last night there and we agree with the driver to come at 10:30 in the morning: this time we refuse his offer to visit another village before going back to Tbilisi, fed up to see his family members.

After a better dinner, thanks to Francesco who gave me a fantastic chicken Simmental, me and Mzia decide to take a walk out at night: clouds are surrounding the hotel and with the light we could see the microscopic drops all around us. We are walking inside the clouds, almost in total darkness: very beautiful. After a freezing night, again we wake up early: just to inform, in the hotel the electricity was available only at night, so no possibility to turn on a light at that time. Anyway, we decide to go to the village, Omalo, couple of kilometers far, to buy some food in a shop. It seems incredible, but there is really one market, where we can buy the product of globalization: sneakers, nuts and some buscuits. At the hotel they also gives us some tea and coffee for breakfast – without asking more money – and there we get disappointed for the last time: the other italians there have potatoes and spaghetti, after we’ve been given awful food for three days.

Again, our driver is late, and when he finally arrives there is a news: we are probably going to take some other people in Omalo to bring them to Alvani; he tries to ask us if we want to visit Omalo first, but since we’ve already been we say no need: it seems like he wanted to go just to take them, but thanks God no other passengers in our car. Something else is changed in the plan: he is not going to bring us to Tbilisi, but to Telavi – close to Alvani – where we can take a Marshrutka driven by his friend for free. Not a big deal, maybe even better, but again we are not so happy that someone who is getting money to do a work is doing whatever he wants without even asking us if it is ok.

The road back is terribly stressful: we are stopping every time we find a car to greet someone, the wheel of the car gets broken and we need to replace, we meet other friends of the driver to join, we stop again to help someone else who also has problems with the car. I am mad, but still trying to be calm: it’s nice that nobody understands my nice words in italian, otherwise I would look quite unpolite. When we arrive in Alvani, again we are forced invited to have a drink at the driver’s house; finally, after some time we are in Telavi, sit on the Marshrutka which will bring us in Tbilisi in a couple of hours.

We are stressed, although the place was the most beautiful ever; we are also tired, after a week of mountains – Svaneti and Tusheti in a week, incredible; but me and Mzia cannot avoid to end our day with a great dinner: a huge pizza and a good fruit salad with ice cream bring back the smile in our tired and stressed faces.

An amazing landscape

So we are three, me, Mzia and Zhana, ready to go: the good thing is that there are relatives in Zugdidi, the capital of Samegrelo region and the town where the Marshrutka to Mestia goes from; the even more good thing is that, despite it was late night when we arrived there, a traditional georgian-gaumarjos table was ready to welcome us in the region I like to define the Sicily of Georgia; the bad thing is that, as would happen in Sicily, the food is much, very very much; the worst thing, anyway, is the climate in Zugdidi: hot, hot and more hot, with an humidity probably higher than 100%. My sleep was anyway quite good thanks to the fan that they kindly gave me – as the guest – to refresh a little bit the room. In the morning is time to take the Marshrutka, which should take just 3.5 hours to get to destination.

Along the road I got a bit disappointed: there’s an huge reservoir in Samegrelo, a sort of big lake surrounded by mountains, but after that the panorama is not as good as I expected. It is indeed wonderful, but after my visit to Shatili last year I cannot say that is the best I’ve seen so far. Perfectly on time, about 5 hours later we finally arrive at our destination: Mestia, the capital of Svaneti. It looks like the guesthouse we booked is not in the center, but in the end of Mestia – which sounds like the end of the World: when the Marshrutka stopped in the center we felt like we jumped back in time, 50 years ago without any De Lorean at 88 mph. It was simply awful: I really can’t find any other word to describe the town – or village.

After a 10 minutes stop in the desolated and dusty center, our Marshrutka finally reaches our destination: it sorted out that the end of Mestia was 500m far from the center and thanks God it looked much better and cleaner. Irma, our host, was a nice woman and the guesthouse, at that moment empty, was simply great. Big – even too much – all hand made in wood, it was just perfect for us: we had three meals a day and a huge room for just 25 lari each. With our belly full, we finally go to have a walk in the town: terrible, let me say again. The village with the traditional Svaneti towers is beautiful, can’t say no, but everything else is either under construction, dusty, with a lot of garbage and animals’ “censored„. We have even been in the middle of a sort of sand storm: never ever I would have imagined that in Svaneti, over the Caucasus where you expect fresh and clean air.

A nice view of Mestia

Back home in the evening we got another nice dinner and we got ready for the second day: destination Ushguli, the highest inhabited village in Europe. At 8 in the morning the car – kindly called by Irma – is ready to go: the driver, a Svanetian man, is driving a famous Lada Niva, a car that would be able to go wherever in the planet – and even outside maybe. The 1.5 hours that the driver estimated became 2.5 – as usual here: the road is long and full of holes and inside the Niva is not that comfortable. We stopped few times along the road: first to visit what I would define puddlake, a lake that was more similar to a puddle; then we stopped to see the Tower of Love, a Svanetian tower that was built just on the border of the river because of some love story that ended badly. The panorama along the road was definetly better: totally different from the landscape you can see on the road to Shatili – which I still consider the best – you can see great mountains with lot of trees; far away, the mount Ushba with its particular double summit was looking was cleary visible.

The puddlake

The mount Ushba

Ushguli would make you forget about Mestia: the village is in an amazing area surrounded by the mountains and it is very beautiful. Here you can again see lot of towers, nicely integrated with the village; however, the place is full of tourists – well, not as much as Rome or New York, but still many of them are there – and you can even find a bar and a car washing: impressive.

Ushguli, the highest village in Europe

After the visit of the village and, of course, a huge lunch, our car is ready to go back; however, before going home, the driver suggests to go and visit the source of the river, which is an glacier 30 minutes far from our lovely Mestia. We agree, but as usual the time gets multiplicated by 3: along the road, a jeep is stopped avoiding us to pass, without any driver; we spent half an hour trying to find the owner and even an alternative road in the middle of the trees, when the owner finally appeared and went away: unfortunately we couldn’t see who they were, since we were in that alternative road at that moment, but finally we were able to continue to our destination. The car couldn’t reach the source: when it stopped, we had to pass a scary long bridge over the impetous river and then start walking along a path in the wood. We wondered why the driver didn’t alert us that, after the short drive we had to walk for an hour, up and down, to get there; the most terrible part was even that the last part was on the rocks, hard to walk on. At last, we arrived: the view was quite good, but nothing so special; after some time it was time to go back home before the darkness.

Scary bridge

The source of river Enguri

We planned to stay 4 days, but after we saw Mestia we decided that it was better to go back home one day earlier: taking our bags in the not quite but almost early morning, we headed to the center of Mestia – if we can define it so – waiting for a Marshrutka. Bad news: all of them already left and none will come later; the only way to go home is to find a car that would bring us to Zugdidi. Looking around and asking hundreds people, we finally saw some guys who needed someone to fill a minivan to go there: good, we thought, here we are. Once they asked us and we confirmed our destination, they tried to find the owner of the car, which apparently was sleeping and too lazy to wake up and get some money: mission failed. Thanks God, those guys found out that a Marshrutka was coming from Zugdidi in few minutes and would have taken us back. The Marshrutka driver on the way back was just awful: with a 6m large road, he liked to drive on the left side, just few cm far from the edge – hundreds meters high over the river. Also, he didn’t miss any hole in the 5 hours long road and he probably won a special prize for this.

Despite all, the trip was really nice: Svaneti is indeed a very beautiful place and it looks like Mestia is going to be repaired and turned into a fashion-touristic town. I usually dislike this, but in this case I think it will be a really good decision, considering its conditions right now. I just hope they will make a better system for allowing tourists going up and down: probably the funicolar I heard they are making from Zugdidi to Mestia would be scary, but definetly interesting to take.

It was December 2007 when I first came to Tbilisi: it was cold, my suitcase did not arrive for 2 days – italian mistake, this time – but still I liked the place. It is like coming back in time, when people were less careful about time, deadlines, rules and they were more friendly, especially with guests. This is a really nice thing that I found here and made me come back again and again. Now it’s 2010: almost 3 years have passed and Tbilisi is changed; it’s changed a lot and it is still changing. Somehow this is sad for me, since you never know what can happen next: I hope it won’t lose its good qualities, becoming a normal place as you can find everywhere else.

Making of Ferris Wheel in Mtatsminda

New roads in Heroes Square

TV antenna in Mtatsminda

The government is trying to push hard on tourism: it’s a good move, a great one. I do believe this country has the potential to be a favorite destination for holidays: there is sea - not the best one, but still nice and interesting – there is history with the beautiful buildings from old times, there are amazing mountains with wild nature, good food and everything you might want to find during a vacation. Walking around Tbilisi these days made me notice a lot of under costruction areas and a huge number of new buildings and repaired roads; they are making a new Ferris Wheel on top of Mtatsminda - a park situated on one of the hills within the city – in a place where you would be able to see the panorama of the whole city; they repaired some roads which were totally ugly and broken, built new ones, a new bridge, parks. So far, so good.

Let me open a bracket about the bridge in particular: called Bridge of Peace, it has been designed by an Italian architect and it’s situated over the river Mtkvari which flows along the capital. Of course it is a matter of taste, but I think that the place where they put it is not the most appropriated: I would not define the bridge ugly, it’s even nice, but it is surrounded by several old buildings and I personally believe that it clashes a bit with them. I must admit anyway that in the evening, especially when you admire the city from the top of the hills, it looks more integrated and nicer. They are even building something, probably a park, next to it, so the area might become even better.

The Bridge of Peace

Closing the brackets, it looks like you should run now to book a ticket and come to Tbilisi as soon as possible: yes, perhaps you should, but be ready for the unexpected. Yes, because even if everything is getting better and better to welcome guests and offer the best experience, there is still something missing before Georgia can be considered ready to be a destination for normal tourists. In a word, what is missing here is the planning: if you want to spend a vacation here, you just should hope that everything would be as you planned. And be sure, it won’t be. You still need to be a little adventurous to have a nice holiday in this wonderful country.

We were planning to go to Mestia, a village in the region of Svaneti, where you can find ancient towers and villages – one of them, Ushguli, is even listed as Unesco heritage – that are unique. The road is too long and still not fully repaired – which might be good, since you would feel the nature even more – and it requires several hours to get there. How many? Nobody really knows, since someone says 5, someone else even 10. Voices say that the alternative is an airplane which flies twice a week: sounds good, so we decided to get that. Travel agencies in this case don’t help: they know there is a plane, but no details; we decided then to call some friend-of-friend who lives near the airport to find out some information: the person at airport tells him to call one week in advance to book a seat – perfect!

So where’s the problem? Well, one week is missing to the planned flight, the man calls to book and… surprise: there’s no way to book a seat, first comes, first served is the rule. The last attempt would be to go directly to the airport and see if there is a way to change the situation, but another surprise was waiting for us: of course we could book them, but we had to call three weeks ago. You might imagine how disappointed we became after these answers. Finding a car to get there, without spending a fortune, does not seem easier: in this moment we still don’t have a real solution, although we want very much and, armed with some more patience, we’ll find out one.

Another point – which I also discussed with an Italian working here – is the lack of service in some situations: just as example, if you go to Davit Gareji, a monastry on the border with Azerbaijan very appreciated by visitors, you will find out that, after a two hours long road, you can’t find a toilet nor a place where to buy a drink. If this is supposed to be one of the great sites where people would go, I think something is really missing. The same might be said about roads: even if some have been renewed, again you may spend several hours without the opportunity to find a decent toilet.

There are other problems, maybe nothing so critical, but still something should change in order to make Georgia ready for the big tourism; when those things will change, probably the spirit of the country will also be different; so my suggestion is to find some time and take a two weeks trip here, soon: do not expect to be always on time, to plan everything, to have just a relax; but be sure to find good people, tasty food and an amazingly beautiful country.

Tbilisi by night

Molti penseranno che l’attività migliore alle 8 di mattina sia dormire in un comodo letto; io, invece, tanto per mostrare che non ho nulla di meglio da fare, ho deciso di leggere uno dei temi della prova di Maturità del 2010 e di scrivere qualche parola senza senso in merito.

Trattasi del tema dal titolo “Siamo Soli?”, della tipologia saggio breve e, fortunatamente, nessuno mi darà un voto in quindicesimi. Il testo completo della prova è disponibile qui.

Famosa scena del film E.T.

Il discorso a proposito di forme di vita al di fuori del nostro pianeta è qualcosa che mi ha sempre affascinato in modo particolare: il fatto che questo sia uno dei tanti misteri che ad oggi non siamo ancora in grado di sfatare lo rende un argomento davvero entusiasmante. Sin da piccolo immaginavo di poter un giorno abbandonare la nostra cara Terra, così meravigliosa e grande, ma pur sempre insignificante all’interno dell’immenso Universo; e, sin da allora, pensavo che non fosse possibile che la vita, forse uno dei pochi misteri che mai risolveremo, non avesse trovato il modo di svilupparsi in qualche altro angolo sperduto del cosmo.

Uno degli argomenti più sollevati dagli scettici è il seguente: se davvero esitessero questi fantomatici alieni, perché non si sarebbero fatti vedere? L’argomentazione è, a mio avviso, totalmente insensata: non esistono forse luoghi sul nostro pianeta che sono ancora sconosciuti a noi intelligentissimi esseri umani? Luoghi in cui, nonostante le difficoltà, si è comunque sviluppata la vita?

Ciò che più mi lascia perplesso è la convinzione con cui molte persone negano questa possibilità, quasi come se fosse qualcosa di terribile e spaventoso: esistono forme di vita sulla Terra che ancora non conosciamo, pesci che sono in grado di sopravvivere negli abissi degli oceani, in grotte profonde senza luce né aria, in cima alle montagne più alte; esistono quantità inimmaginabili di pianeti che potrebbero fornire un ambiente perfetto, forse addirittura migliore, per lo sviluppo della vita. Mi trovo in pieno accordo con quanto scritto da Paul C.W. Davies nel 1994 nel suo “Siamo soli? Implicazioni filosofiche della scoperta della vita extraterrestre“: non siamo e non possiamo pensare di essere il centro del creato, così come non siamo presenze insignificanti in questa enorme macchina che chiamiamo Universo. Se la vita ha trovato il modo di nascere qui e trova ogni giorno il modo di resistere, cosa impedisce che questa si sviluppi in qualche lontano pianeta?

UFO è un acronimo che tanto è divenuto di moda nell’ultimo secolo: ormai sinonimo di velivolo alieno, più in particolare si riferisce a qualunque oggetto nel cielo che non siamo in grado di riconoscere. Parlare di questi oggetti non può a mio avviso essere paragonato al discorso sulla vita extraterrestre: credo che vi sia un enorme differenza tra l’escludere categoricamente che altri pianeti possano essere abitati rispetto al pensare che qualche alieno sia in grado di raggiungere la Terra con tecnologie avanzatissime. Non ho un’idea chiara su questo secondo pensiero: non escludo che sia possibile che qualcuno abbia trovato un modo per abbattere le distanze infinite che ci separano, ma, al tempo stesso, la cosa mi lascia alquanto perplesso.

La cosa su cui è forse più interessante riflettere, senza troppo considerare lo scetticismo o la credenza, sono le conseguenze che un simile incontro potrebbe avere: penso ai tanti esperimenti ideati dai nostri scienziati per mettersi in contatto con forme di vita aliena e questi mi lasciano indubbiamente più basito dell’idea che un UFO possa sorvolare le nostre città; le differenze tra le diverse specie animali che popolano la nostra Terra sono alcune volte abissali, quasi incredibili: persino tra esseri umani troppo spesso la comprensione è difficile e non vedo come un ipotetico abitante di un pianeta lontano possa riuscire ad interpretare ciò che vorremmo dirgli. Vengono inviati nello spazio grandi quantità di messaggi, testi, musiche o disegni, nella speranza che qualcuno li possa percepire per mandarci una risposta; tutto questo è basato sull’idea che questi esseri siano simili a noi, cosa che potrebbe non essere effettivamente vera.

Un’ulteriore domanda che nasce al pensiero che, invece, questi alieni riescano a comprendere ciò che vogliamo dirgli è questa: potremmo mai diventare amici? Nonostante le buone intenzioni che gli ideatori ed i sostenitori di questi progetti vogliono far credere di avere, la mia risposta è no. Solitamente i più spaventati all’idea di un incontro ravvicinato del terzo tipo, come un famoso film lo ha un tempo definito, sono convinti che l’unica missione di questi abitanti dello spazio sia raggiungere il nostro pianeta per distruggerlo: non la vedo una possibilità così remota. Non mi viene in mente alcun animale che vive la sua vita senza danneggiare chi è più debole di lui: è una legge della Natura, non una legge terrestre, e come tale posso immaginare che sia valida in tutto l’Universo. Al tempo stesso, però, mi domando cosa faremmo noi, se un giorno dovessimo raggiungere un pianeta alieno: sono convinto che, così come nel XV secolo iniziammo la conquista del Nuovo Mondo, allo stesso modo faremmo con questo nuovo territorio, senza alcuna pietà di coloro che vi abitano; tutto questo soltanto se e perché, per volere di Dio o del Fato, abbiamo avuto la fortuna di essere più forti di loro.

Il punto di vista di Stephen Hawking nel suo “L’universo in un guscio di noce” fa riflettere: possiamo davvero definirci intelligenti? Come possiamo dare una definizione di cosa questo voglia effettivamente significare? Lo sviluppo tecnologico degli ultimi due secoli è stato effettivamente incredibile: tra scoperte ed invenzioni sorprendenti, la vita sul nostro pianeta è cambiata radicalmente, rendendoci incapaci di immaginare persino l’esistenza senza tutto ciò che questa tecnologia ci ha regalato; eppure esistono animali che popolano la Terra da molto più tempo di noi, perfettamente in grado di sopravvivere e che non subirebbero gravi conseguenze nemmeno nell’ipotesi di una catastrofe che annienterebbe il genere umano: il fatto che non sappiano aggiornare il proprio status su un social network li rende forse più stupidi di noi? Probabilmente è una questione di punti di vista.

Lo stesso discorso può essere applicato a questi extraterrestri di cui tanto abbiamo parlato: padroni di tecnologie a noi inimmaginabili oppure semplici esseri viventi che lottano per la sopravvivenza? Probabilmente entrambe le cose: ciò non li renderebbe né più intelligenti né più stupidi di noi, ma soltanto differenti; ciò non fermerebbe una guerra, poiché sono convinto che, se non fossero loro, saremmo comunque noi ad iniziarla. Mi viene in mente a tal proposito una canzone di Fabrizio De André, “Girotondo“: un discorso sulla guerra e sulla povera gente che, rimasta sola dopo che tutto il resto è stato distrutto, può finalmente conquistare la Terra per poi ricominciare una nuova guerra, come in un girotondo. Queste sono parole putroppo verissime, applicabili a tutti gli esseri che popolano il nostro pianeta e, perché no, anche gli altri che potrebbero ospitare la vita.

E così, mentre alla domanda “Siamo soli?” risponderei con un secco no, spero non vi sia un giorno in cui, dopo l’ennesima guerra sul nostro pianeta, questi lontani abitanti dello spazio giunti sulla Terra non si trovino a dover dare una risposta affermativa a questo interrogativo.

Incontrata Anni all’aeroporto – dopo circa 5 mesi – ci dirigiamo in treno verso Leiden, la città dove vive. I treni in Olanda hanno un che di costoso: pensavo che fossero perfetti-e-sempre-in-orario, ma non succede così nemmeno qui. Arriviamo a destinazione in una quindicina di minuti ed impieghiamo lo stesso tempo per una passeggiata dalla stazione a casa: Leiden è una città davvero carina, con centinaia di biciclette e le tipiche case olandesi con il loro particolare tetto appuntito.

Ancora non lo sapevamo, ma la casa di Anni sarebbe presto divenuta il principale problema della vacanza: situata in un sottotetto, la casa ha due stanze, una piccola cucina e un bagno che sarebbe inutilizzabile da persone più pesanti di 80kg; dopo aver piazzato le mie cose nella stanza “libera”, affittata da qualcun altro fino a pochi giorni prima, prepariamo un veloce spuntino e ci dirigiamo a visitare la città. Ora, vi starete probabilmente chiedendo perché la casa fu così problematica, ma ovviamente continuerò il mio racconto in ordine cronologico, così che non smetterete di leggerlo fino alla fine.

Leiden – e come ho potuto notare in seguito anche altre città olandesi – è piena di fast food: ingurgitai hamburger per giorni e non vedevo l’ora di gustare una deliziosa cena italiana a casa. Il primo giorno visitammo di Leiden, mentre Lunedì fù dedicato a L’Aia: avevamo in mente di visitare un mio amico italiano alla sera, in modo da guardare la partita Italia – Paraguay tutti insieme. L’Aia è leggermente differente da Leiden: anch’essa calma e carina, era colma di Olandesi vestiti in arancione per via dell’incontro con la Danimarca; ci avvicinammo agli schermi per vedere il risultato due volte, ed in entrambi i casi l’Olanda segnò un gol: gli olandesi dovrebbero ringraziarci.

Comunque, ci accorgemmo presto che visitare l’Aia dal mattino alla sera è forse troppo, quindi decidemmo di raggiungere un’altra città per qualche ora: la scelta cadde su Delft. Spostarsi da una città all’altra richiede pochissimo tempo ed anche in questo caso non impiegammo più di 15-20 minuti. Anche Delft è particolare, piccola e con una bellissima piazza in cui Anni decise di mostrare al mondo la sua abilità di indossare i collant in pubblico: memorabile il suo “ed ora che faccio?” una volta realizzato che non è certo la cosa più semplice da fare senza che la gente si giri a sbirciare.

Tempo di tornare all’Aia, dove incontammo il mio amico – Luca – e con un altro ci recammo al pub in attesa della partita. Anche se non era un fast food, la mia cena fu un altro hamburger: stile di vita meraviglioso. Meglio non commentare il risultato della partita (e nemmeno la reazione di Luca quando l’Italia segnò).

Amsterdam fu la destinazione per il terzo giorno: immaginavo di trovarmi davanti una città più caotica e confusionaria, ma non fu così; certamente era molto più viva di persone, soprattutto nelle vie principali – piene di coffee e sexy shop, direi – ma non certo comparabile con il casino nelle città che amo di più (qualcuno ha detto Tbilisi?). C’era una mostra fotografica in una chiesa, quindi decidemmo che saremmo dovuti tornare.

Ma spendiamo un paio di parole sulla chiesa; come molte altre in Olanda, anche questa è teatro di mostre e concerti: molto probabilmente il dio olandese ama il divertimento. La seconda cosa simpatica che mi colpì è il luogo in cui si trova: proprio all’inizio del quartiere a luci rosse, circondata da sexy shop che propongono tutto ciò che si ha bisogno per una notte di divertimento. In ogni caso, visitammo il quartiere a luci rosse, a quell’ora (sfortunatamente ) non completamente al lavoro; potete comunque trovare a qualsiasi ora una fanciulla disposta a soddisfarvi – cosa non molto diversa da ciò che accade in altri Paesi, aggiungerei.

Quella sera, Anni aveva lezione all’Università e mi si presentarono due scelte: unirmi a lei per 4 ore di lezione sul management (o marketing o qualsiasi cosa fosse) oppure visitare di nuovo L’Aia, dove Luca avrebbe sperimentato la preparazione delle lasagne; non c’è bisogno di dire quale fu la mia scelta, comunque ottima. Meta successiva, Haarlem: andammo di nuovo in treno, senza particolare entusiasmo, ma alla fine ci accorgemmo che è forse la città più bella visitata in questi giorni. Piena di vita, gente in giro, piccola e decisamente bella.

Apriamo una piccola parentesi prima di parlare di Giovedì: i vicini di Anni. Entrammo a casa loro un paio di volte per tentare di sistemare i problemi con internet, che non funzionava a casa nostra da una settimana: persone decisamente strane, con un cane solo apparentemente cattivo, un gatto ed alcuni rettili tra cui due meravigliosi serpenti lunghi qualche metro. Dal loro appartamento un cavo ethernet avrebbe dovuto connetterci al magico mondo della Rete, ma siccome non sembrava funzionare a dovere, chiamammo i proprietari per verificare il problema.

Finalmente, Giovedì: al mattino andammo di nuovo ad Amsterdam per la mostra di foto; apparentemente la giornata sarebbe stata calma, ma alla fine si rivelò la più lunga e folle di sempre: di ritorno dalla capitale, Anni mi invitò a partecipare al meeting del Business Club insieme con un suo professore ed alcuni compagni di Università in un bar di Leiden. La mia partecipazione al meeting segreto – che mi ricordò Fight Club – fu accettata e mi fu anche chiesto di dire un paio di frasi di introduzione: “Salve, sono Davide Cassenti, dall’Italia e sono qui per vacanza. Partecipo all’incontro del Business Club perché altrimenti sarei dovuto stare a casa da solo.” fu senza dubbio la migliore introduzione del giorno.

Decisamente noioso per un informatico come me, il meeting durò circa un’ora, dopodiché Anni andò al lavoro, mentre io decisi di visitare a piedi tutta Leiden. Tutto sembrava andare per il verso giusto, finché non ricevetti un messaggio da Anni nel quale mi diceva che i padroni di casa erano entrati, avevano visto le mie cose nella stanza proibita (tutto è vietato lì) e si erano infuriati. Anni finì di lavorare poco dopo e tornammo a casa; dove trovammo la grande sorpresa della settimana.

I proprietari non solo si erano arrabbiati con noi: avevano anche portato via tutto dalla stanza, incluse le mie valigie, il computer, i vestiti e tutto il resto. In un minuto diventai come un vagabondo, con la mia macchina fotografica soltanto. La casa è piccola, quindi non impiegai molto ad accorgermi che avevano effettivamente rubato tutti i miei bagagli; e mi incavolai non poco. Tentammo di chiamarli per chiedere spiegazioni, ma siccome non volevano parlare con noi, decidemmo che la cosa migliore da fare era recarsi alla polizia. E lì avemmo la seconda sorpresa.

La prima cosa che uno si aspetta di ricevere in polizia è aiuto: ciò sarebbe normale in qualunque Paese di qualunque continente; spiegammo la situazione e ciò che ricevemmo fu una semplicr risposta: “aspettate domani: probabilmente l’hanno fatto solo per spaventarvi”; e mi incavolai il doppio. Come diavolo può un poliziotto dirti che è tutto uno scherzo, senza nemmeno chiedere nomi o documenti? Mi sto ancora chiedendo questo, visto che rimasi scioccato e senza le mie cose. La serata finì comunque con un drink: eravamo troppo nervosi per tornare subito a casa e la passeggiata ci aiutò a tornare alla normalità – se possiamo così definirla.

Quella notte ero così nervoso che non potei dormire più di qualche ora: alle 6 ero già sveglio, in attesa di riavere indietro le mie cose. Quando Anni si svegliò, chiamò i proprietari e questi ci dissero che avrebbero riportato tutto quella sera, ma che avrei dovuto pagare la settimana di uso della stanza. Decidemmo di evitare i problemi, quindi accettammo di aspettare qualche ora e decidemmo di continuare il nostro viaggio, tentando di avere un po’ di divertimento in un Venerdì uggioso. Prendemmo il treno per Alrmaar, cittadina famosa per il formaggio ad un’ora di treno da Leiden. La città mi piacque molto: in qualche modo ricorda Venezia, anche se la nostra città ha quel qualcosa che la rende unica; sfortunatamente perdemmo il Mercato del formaggio che si tiene ogni Venerdì mattina, ma visitammo un negozio dove acquistai un interessante formaggio al wasabi completamente verde (sì, il formaggio è verde) ed alcuni altri: se qualcuno volesse favorire, siete i benvenuti.

Il giorno successivo è oggi: sveglia alle 7, tempo di prendere l’aereo per tornare in Italia. La cosa migliore della giornata è il fatto che il volo è Alitalia: grazie all’italiano come lingua principale, ho finalmente capito cosa dice il pilota nei microfoni poco prima di atterrare – ed ora sono felice. Il volo è stato piacevole, ma non posso dire lo stesso sul tempo: ancora più triste e piovoso della fredda Olanda. Grazie al cielo una deliziosa carbonara ha salvato la giornata.

Met Anni at the airport – after about 5 months – we headed with the train to Leiden, the town where she lives. Trains in Holland are kinda expensive – and not expansive as I usually write: I first thought they were perfect-always-on-time ones, but that’s not the truth even here. We reached our destination in around 15 minutes and we needed other 15 to walk home: Leiden is a pretty nice town, with hundreds of bikes and the typical dutch houses with a very particular roof.

We still didn’t know, but Anni’s house would have soon been the main problem of the holiday: situated in a attic, it has with two rooms, a little kitchen, and a bathroom that is not usable by those who are more than 80kg; I placed my stuffs in the “free” room, which was rented by someone else since few days before, and after a fast lunch we went to visit the town. I know, you’re probably wondering why the house was so problematic, but of course I will go on in chronological order so that you won’t stop reading ’till the end.

Leiden – and as I could see later even other towns in Holland – is full of fast foods: I’ve been eating burgers for days and looking now forward for a delicious italian lunch at home. We visited Leiden on the very first day, while Monday was dedicated to The Hague: we had plans to meet my italian friend in the evening to watch our Italy playing against Paraguay all together. The Hague is slightly different from Leiden: still very calm and nice, it was full of Dutch dressed in orange because of the match vs. Denmark; we went near the screen to see the result twice and both the times Holland scored a goal: they must thank us.

However, we realized that visiting The Hague from the morning to the evening was quite too much, so we decided to head to another town for a couple of hours: our choice was Delft. It needs very few time to move from one town to the other and also this time we didn’t need more than 15-20 minutes. Also Delft is nice, small and with a very beautiful square where Anni decided to show off her ability to wear tights in the public: memorable her “what I do now?” when she realized it was not the simplest thing to do without having people watching at you.

Time to go back to The Hague, we met my friend – Luca – and with his other friend we went to a pub waiting for the football match. Even if not fast-food, I had again a burger there: awesome lifestyle. Better not to comment the result of the play (and neither the reaction of Luca when we scored a goal).

Amsterdam was the destination of our third day: I imagined it more confusing and messy, but it is not really so; it was indeed more full of people, walking mainly in the main roads – full of coffee and sexy shops, actually – but still it can’t be compared with the mad places I love (did anyone say Tbilisi?). We found out there was a photos exibithion in a church, so we decided to go back again to visit it.

But let’s spend a couple of words on the church: as most of the others in Holland, it was house of exhibitions and shows: most probably dutch god likes to have fun. The second nice thing of it was the location: just at the beginning of the red lights district, it was surrounded by sexy shops selling all the stuffs you would need for a night of fun. We then had a visit in the red light district, which at that time was (unfortunately ) not fully working; however, at any time you might find a girl that would please you – which is not so different from what happens elsewhere, actually.

In the evening, Anni had to go to some lesson at the University and I had two choices: joining her for a 4 hours lecture about management (or marketing or whatever) or visiting The Hague again where Luca was experimenting cooking lasagna; no need to tell which my choice was, just it was very good. Haarlem was the next destination: we went there again by train, without any particular enthusiasm, but we found out that is probably the best town we visited during the week. Full of life, people all around, small and beautiful.

Let’s open a little bracket before talking about Thursday: Anni’s neighbours. We visited their house few times in order to try to get internet at our home, since it has not been working for a week already: strange people indeed, with a dog just apparently evil, a cat and some reptiles including two wonderful snakes some meters long. Running from their apartment, an ethernet cable was supposed to connect us to the magic world of the Net, but since it wasn’t working, we tried to ask to the owners to come and check what was wrong.

Finally, Thursday: in the morning we went again to Amsterdam to visit the photo exhibition; apparently the day was calm, but it was the longest and craziest day ever: back from the capital, Anni invited me to attend a Business Club meeting with her professor and some her classmates in a bar in Leiden. They accepted my attendee in the secret meeting – that reminded me Fight Club and they also asked me to give a brief introduction of me: “Hello, I’m Davide Cassenti, from Italy, and I’m here for holidays. I’m attending the Business Club meeting because otherwise I would have been home alone.” was without any discussion the best introduction of the day.

Quite boring for an IT as me, the meeting lasted about an hour and after that Anni went to work, while I decided to visit the whole Leiden by walking. Everything looked fine and even fun, until I got a message from Anni saying the owners saw my stuffs in the forbidden room (everything is forbidden there) and got angry for this. She finished working earlier and we went home together; here we found the big surprise of the week.

The owners not only got angry with us: they removed everything from the room, including my suitcase, computer, clothes and everything. In a minute I became like a vagabond, with only my camera and nothing else. The house is small, so I didn’t need so long to realize that they really stolen all my baggages; and I got mad. We first tried to call them to get explaination about that, but since they didn’t want to talk to us, we decided the best thing to do was to go to the police. And there, we got the second surprise.

The first thing you would expect to receive in a police office is help: this would be normal in every country of every continent; we explained the situation and what we got was just a simple answer: “let’s wait tomorrow: they might have done it just to scare you”; and I got double mad. How the hell can a policeman tell you that everything is just a joke, without even ask us names or documents? I still am wondering about it, since I got shocked and had to go out still without anything. The evening ended with a drink in a bar: we were too nervous to go home and the little walk helped us to get back to normality – if we may call it so.

That night I was so nervous that I couldn’t sleep more than few hours: at 6am I was already awake, waiting  for the moment to get my stuffs back. When Anni woke up we called the owners, asking for them, and they just told us they would have brought them in the evening, but that I had to pay the room that I used. We decided to avoid problems, so we agreed to wait few hours and we continued our trip, trying to have anyway fun in a gloomy Friday. We took a train to Alkmaar, town famous for the cheese one hour far from Leiden. I liked the city a lot: somehow it reminds Venice, even if our city still has something particular that makes it different from everything else; we unfortunately missed the Cheese Market that is held every morning in the town, but we visited a shop where I bought a very interesting wasabi green cheese (yes, the cheese is green) and some others: if anyone would like to taste, you’re welcome.

The next day is today: waken at 7am, was time to get the plane back to Italy. The best thing of today’s flight was the fact that I used an Alitalia airplane: thanks to the italian as primary language, I finally understood what the pilot says just before landing – and I was very happy. Pleasant flight, I cannot tell the same about the weather: more gloomy and rainy than the cold Holland. Thanks God a delicious carbonara saved my day.

No Facebook Day - June 23rd, 2010

How much facebook-addicted are you? Can you stay one whole day without it?

On June, 23rd 2010 forget about the social network, don’t try to login with your mobile, avoid looking for someone to chat with… and disable all the mail notification. Can you live without it – for just a day?

Just a little experiment to see how many people would try to avoid connecting to the popular social network and find out if they are addicted.

Join the event: http://vaime.org/nofbday