A Place to Fall Back To

Day one hundred and twenty, Georgia. I drove through Turkey in two days with barely a stop and reached the Georgian border at night. A queue. Three hours of passport control. Then on.

That is a lot of hours with nothing to do but think — about the people I've been close to, about what is behind me and what is in front.

Georgia could be a place to fall back to, if Europe gets uncomfortable.

I worry about my family and my friends at home. What is happening politically and economically does not look good, and by now everyone can see it.

This country has mountains and a great deal of land that has never been improved. The infrastructure is said to be poor, which I count as an advantage: people who are used to managing without electricity know what to do when there isn't any.

What does a person actually need? Warmth, food and water, a roof, and other people. The Georgians are said to be extraordinarily hospitable. After Turkey I believe it, and I have come to think that this last item is the one that decides whether a life is any good.

I am looking forward to the country.