The Late Bloomer

From Rome to Asia without flying – Yekaterinburg, across the Europe – Asia border

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, economy, travel, Lifestyle, travel, World

The 29 of May 2019 I got on a train at the Kazan railway station at around 2 p.m.

I was about to adventure on a trip of 14 hours that would have covered a distance of 1000 km.

The next stop on the trans – Siberian railway trip was the city of Yekaterinburg, the administrative centre of Sverdlovsk Oblast and the Ural Federal District.

The fourth-largest city in Russia.

I slept most of the time during the long traversing that would bring me closer to Asia than ever before.

It was a relatively quiet trip, with a bunk buddy to chat about during the waking times.

His name was Alexey.

He was travelling back to Yekaterinburg, after a few days of vacation in Kazan.

He was extremely friendly, despite the language barrier that forced us to speak through the translator app.

And that could happen only the very few times we were online, of course.

The man was an employee of Gazprom and had not been shy about criticizing Putin.

He was getting paid too little for his job, something that was hard not to believe.

You know that saying that the world is a village, right? It is a cliché that travellers often find themselves reaffirming despite their strong exploration drive.

We got to the Yekaterinburg railway station at 6 in the morning.

We shared a strong Russian hug with Alexey, before saying goodbye to each other.

He also gifted me with some fridge magnets, proving once again that generosity is not a secondary value in this part of the world.

I got a taxi that took me to the Richmond Hotel on Malisheva Street 136, just in front of the Institute of Physics and Technology, on the east side of the city.

The place was nicely decorated and looked really high level in terms of service and facilities.

My room was spacious and bright.

I dropped the luggages and took a quick shower, before reaching the top floor where they were serving breakfast.

I got an omelette, a butter croissant, black coffee and some fruits.

It was a beautiful, sunny day outside.

A pleasant glow flowed through the glass that surrounded the roof bar.

I felt incredibly energized.

I just couldn’t wait to grab my camera and go out exploring.

Which I did, about an hour later.

It was still early morning and the city was buzzing.

While the taxi was hustling on a dirty road with heavy traffic, I had immediately the impression that something had shifted.

That was a perception of the distinctive chaos embedded in every Asian metropolis.

The city of Yekaterinburg is located on the Iset River between the Volga-Ural region and Siberia, with a population of roughly 1.5 million residents, up to 2.2 million residents in the urban agglomeration. Yekaterinburg is the fourth-largest city in Russia, the largest city in the Ural Federal District, and one of Russia’s main cultural and industrial centres. [1]
Wikipedia

My first stop was the Sevastyanov’s house on Lenin Avenue, in the heart of the city.

During the Soviet years, the first labor exchange in the country was based in the mansion, and then the regional council of trade unions. In 2008, the building was completely restored as the residence of the President of Russia at the SCO summit. [2]
Senator Business Hotel

*A view of the mansion facade with elements of Neo-Gothic and Baroque*

I then walked Northside along the Iset River basin to reach one of the most suggestive point of the city.

The site of the once so-called Ipatiev House, built in the 1880s, and owned by Nicholas Ipatiev.

During the February revolution, the house was vacated and surrounded by wooden walls by the Soviet.

Here, the Romanov, the last royal family of Russia, were taken captive for 78 days.

With the Czechoslovak Legions fighting with the White Army against the Bolsheviks and advancing inexorably towards Yekaterinburg, the Reds feared an attempt to liberate the royals.

In the early hours of 17 July 1918, the Tsar Nicholas Alexandrovich, Tsarina Alexandra Feodorovna, Grand Duchess Olga, Grand Duchess Tatiana, Grand Duchess Maria, Grand Duchess Anastasia and Tsarevich Alexei—were taken to the basement of the Ipatiev House and were murdered by being shot and bayoneted. Czechoslovak Legions captured the city less than a week later. [3]
Wikipedia

If you don’t follow the Netflix Series “The Crown”, there’s an interesting episode of the fifth season, called indeed “Ipatiev House”, which re-enacts the final moments of the lives of the Romanov’s and their brutal murder.

It is a very fascinating story because in reconstructing the British crown’s ties to the Romanov’s family, – the Tsar Nicholas II was the cousin of King George V, who was the Queen’s grandfather – hints to the possibility of King George and his wife Queen Mary might have sent a ship to rescue Nicholas II and his family.

They apparently decided not to, for reasons that are still unclear and that the British series on Netflix will address in this episode.

Fast-forward to 1991, the remainder of the episode deals with the communist Soviet Union collapse and Boris Yeltsin taking control. Soon the queen learns that years earlier, when Yeltsin was a lower government official, he ordered the destruction of Ipatiev House.

The British royals will then work to tight relations with Russia with an effort to find the Romanov remains and give them a dignified rest.

85 years after the execution of the former imperial family, that same place has given home to an impressive memorial complex dedicated to them.

*Church of All Saints, also known as The Church on Blood in Honour of All Saints Resplendent in the Russian Land*, *built on the site where the last Tsar and his family were executed*

I kept walking along the Iset, heading south this time.

At this point, I casually came across another interesting landmark of the city that to my surprise had nothing to do with the history of Russia.

*The so-called “Monument to The Beatles”*

During the Soviet era, the regime considered the Beatles to be part of the Western propaganda machine, spreading anti-Soviet messages, and so listening to the banned musicians was risky. To be caught listening to their music, in possession of their albums, or dressing as though you look like you might, meant people chanced potential travel bans and trouble from government officials. [4]
Culture Trip

Despite the Soviet propaganda, the Beatles influence was huge on Russian youth, and it comes at not surprise that after the collapsing of the USSR, the desire to celebrate the band was finally channelled.

After dedicating a secular prayer at the mural of Chester Bannigtong, leader of my beloved Linkin Park, hosted in the same spot, I walked back to Lenin Avenue.

I got a sandwich at a grocery store and I decided to enjoy my lunch in the sun, sitting across “The Passage” shopping mall.

*A view of The Passage shopping mall on Lenin Avenue*

I remember reflecting on the fact that the historical, cultural stratification of a city is an interesting phenomenon.

The presence of many symbols, that apparently have nothing in common, but that can coexist in an environment without any constriction.

You might find streets and monuments dedicated to a murderer like Lenin in a city that also celebrate culture and arts, with 41 libraries and 50 different museums.

It is a very fascinating contradiction that reveals revisionisms and errors, evidently.

But, at the end of the day, I believe that the only way to let a country, a city, an entire region, thrive, is the freedom of expression.

*People enjoying an early afternoon in the sun*

It was time to go off the path, again.

I took a small bus on Lenin Avenue to travel about 20 kilometres west, through the E22 motorway traversing the Sverdlovsk Oblast.

It’s basically a straight line surrounded by forests of the thinnest pines, until the Tatischev memorial stone site.

You then need to walk a little bit further to reach the actual spot.

*Traditional buddhist colorful ribbons, marking the path towards the border*

The border site is marked by a tall obelisk that stands between the two continents.

*The Europe – Asia phisical border* marked by the obelysk

The Europe Asia Obelisk beautifully marks the border between the two continents. A line divides the monument so that half of it is on each side of the border. Furthermore, at the bottom of the monument are two rocks – one brought from the furthest west of Europe and the other from the furthest east of Asia. They symbolically meet on each side of this monument. [5]
Travel All Russia

Here’s another unforgettable moment of my journey.

I had finally made to Asia without taking any flights.

It was truly exciting.

You can hint at my smile there 🙂

I got back to town, thinking about the important milestone I hade made towards recovery.

It was a mild spring afternoon and everyone seemed very happy to be enjoying it.

*A view of the Plotinka on the river basin*

I sit on the river bank, enjoying an ice cream, letting the fleeting beauty of the moment sweep away any hint of loneliness.

I couldn’t tell anyone what I was doing. But it seemed that it didn’t matter anymore.

I finally felt the eyes of someone, something, that would never judge me or abandon me, not for anything in the world.

From Rome to Asia without flying – Kazan, a culture cauldron

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, Senza categoria, travel, World

Life in Kazan, like in many other cities around the world, revolves around a fortification, a walled city.

In this part of the world they use the term kremlin, which means indeed “fortification” in slave language, and which is commonly associated with the Russian state.

In reality, the kremlin is a historical feature of many Russian cities, a heritage of a past in which war was often behind the door, there was no such a thing as deterrence and defence was more important than offence.

The Kazan Kremlin has got its own peculiarity, though, a symbol of his multiculturalism that is a trait of this fascinating city.

Within the walls that protect some beautiful Orthodox cathedrals, the towers of an imposing mosque stand out, as if they were reaching for the sky.

*The Kul Sharif Mosque located inside the Kazan Kremlin*

Originally, the mosque was built in the Kazan Kremlin in the 16th century. It was named after Kul Sharif, who was a religious scholar who served there. Kul Sharif died along with his numerous students while defending Kazan from Russian forces in 1552 during the Siege of Kazan, and the mosque was destroyed by Ivan the Terrible’s forces. [1]
Wikipedia

Here, in the capital of Tatarstan, you are already far enough away from the West to feel a strong shake to your own Christian roots.

The city’s population consists mostly of ethnic Tatars (48.8%) and ethnic Russians (46.9%). Predominant faiths of Kazan city are Islam and Eastern Orthodox Christianity. [2]
Wikipedia

My tour of the city couldn’t fail to begin from the citadel that overlook the modern city (in the following picture).

On a rather cool morning, I strolled through the narrow streets of the fortress, while admiring all the landmarks.

It was a quiet Monday, as I only came across some local tourists that were enjoying a holidays break in the early summer.

Here’s a view of the main entrance with the Spasskaya Tower in the background:

The silence all around the citadel was almost spiritual. The chill breeze blowing from Siberia was teasing my sleepiness.

*The shiny interiors of the Kul Sharif mosque*

I was particularly struck by the starry domes of the Annunciation Cathedral.

Here’s in the background of the monument dedicated to Tatar and Russian builders:

I had never seen anything further from the rigorous towers of a Gothic cathedral.

One of the things that fascinates me most about religious architecture is the particular creativity of its symbol system.

There is something obviously kind, fairy-like about conceiving a dome that represents a starry sky.

Any child would have dreamy eyes in front of something like that.

I walked about 30 minutes from the foot of the Kremlin to Tukay Square, in the heart of the city.

*A view of the Kul Sharif Mosque from beyond the Kazan Kremlin wall*

I decided to stop at the Dobraya Stolovaya, right on Bauman street, where I was served a delicious Şulpa with noodles on a red chip tray.

*Bauman Street with the The Belltower of Epiphany in the background*

I made a plan during lunch and in the early afternoon I got on a taxi with the intention of going a bit off the path this time.

I was directed to the Staroye Arakchino Microdistrict, a tiny village on the bank of the Volga River.

About 30 minutes driving from the city centre.

I was looking for something I would consider quite unusual.

A place that represent all religions in the world.

*A view of the The Temple of All Religions*

The Temple of all Religions or The Universal Temple consists of several types of religious architecture including an Orthodox church, a mosque, and a synagogue, among others. It is currently under construction since 1992, started by local artist and philanthropist Ildar Khanov (1940–2013). The structure now serves as a cultural center and a residence for Khanov’s brother and sister, who both continue to serve as guides and supervisors of the complex. [3]
Wikipedia

In this remote and isolated location, I found the epitome of all the epitomes.

The structure is not an active temple of any religion, but rather, as Khanov described its mission, a “temple of culture and truth”. It has become a popular landmark in the city of Kazan, which takes pride in the peaceful combination of different cultures (Islamic Tatar culture, Orthodox Russian, and others). [4]
Wikipedia

After visiting the temple, I just took a moment to look at the peaceful water of the Volga river and meditate on the state of my being.

I was trying to let go of all the anger I kept carrying around as an unnecessary burden.

Letting that powerful and destructive feeling be consigned to a place of redemption, after all.

Khanov was known for his efforts in the treatment of alcoholism, drug addiction, and various other addictions. His patients helped him to maintain and develop the Temple, either by direct involvement in the construction work or through sponsorship. [5]
Wikipedia

I went back to Bauman street and walked again in the direction of the Kremlin, while the early light of the sunset was creating a nostalgic photography.

I kept walking until I reached the boardwalk on the south side of the city.

*A view of the nothern city from the boardwalk*

As the sunset gently descended on the huge Volga mantle, I realized two things:

I missed being in love with someone.

I missed being loved by someone.

I later decided to cross the Volga, accessing the northern side of the city.

Here, in the so-called Kazan Riviera, many Russians come to spend their summer holidays.

There’s a striking contrast with the rest of the city.

With its impressive hotel complexes, sandy beaches and water parks, it feels like you have been catapulted to places much more familiar to us Westerners.

The mundane soul of a city that never fails to surprise you.

*A view of the Big wheel, located on the Kazan Riviera*

*People enjoying a beach volleyball match* *at the Kazan Riviera*

After a meal in an Italian restaurant and a nice walk along the Riviera, I reached another symbolic place.

The end of a cyclical path that reminds you of being in a place where multiple souls coexist.

*The Big Cauldron that hosts the Kazan Family Center*

The term kazan means ‘boiler’ or ‘cauldron’ (Russian: каза́н/Tatar: казан) in the Tatar and Turkic languages. The origin of the city and its name is often described as follows: a sorcerer advised the Bulgars to build a city where, without any fire, a boiler dug into the ground would boil water. [6]
Wikipedia

Here I assisted of another interesting phenomena: a gathering of the city Muslim youth that were smoking the Hookah inside their cars while chatting and listening to Arab music.

At that moment, I envied them for the feeling of belonging to a community.

I went back to the hotel.

I crashed on the bed, falling asleep right on the spot.

When I woke up, I checked my phone.

It was 3:30 a.m.

The light of the dawn had already invaded the room.

I washed my face, then I took the lift to reach the rooftop.

There was one more thing to do before leaving Kazan.

The Café was still open, and to my surprise, I wasn’t the only one in there.

*Here I am smoking a water pipe* in the dawn

Then I just surrendered to the moment without thinking about anything at all.

From Rome to Asia without flying – Moscow to Kazan through the TranSiberian railway

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

How many people have you heard dreaming about adventuring through the Transiberian railway, but they never did at the end?

A lot, personally.

This was a huge thing from many generations of the past.

From the ’60s thought the ’90s.

It still remains a dream for millions of people, even though the most popular railway in the world has lost some of its appeal in recent years.

Different factors come to play here, from the lack of sympathy for Russia these days to the fact that train trips no longer seem to appeal today’s youth.

Too bad.

When I boarded, the carriage number 23 at the Moscow Kazansky railway station, I was excited like a baby.

I was about to adventure on a 14h ride, but I couldn’t be more happy.

I love trains, I have already confessed that.

*The train I was about to board at the Moscow Kazansky railway station*

It is worth to mention that I had bought all the tickets on the official website of OJSC Russian Railways well in advance, when I was still in Italy.

My plan included the first stretch from St. Petersburg to Moscow, the second from Moscow to Kazan, the third from Kazan to Yekaterinburg, the fourth from Yekaterinburg to Krasnoyarsk, the fifth from Krasnoyarsk to Irkutsk, the sixth from Irkutsk to Ulan Ude.

It’s up to you how many stops you want to make during the way, as the same train runs from Saint Petersburg to Ulan Ude in about 4 days.

*The timetable from Moscow Kazansky railway station to Ulan Ude*

The train left the platform at 13:25, with 15 min of delay.

I was going to get to Kazan at two o’clock in the morning.

Until that point, one of the longest journeys I ever made by train.

There had been a previous trip, during my Erasmus days, from my hometown to Paris, that had taken more than a day.

A crazy one, that would be worthy of a whole article.

Another time, maybe.

Then there were the overnight rides from Rome to Vienna.

I reserved a bunk bed, but at that moment I had actually in my mind everything but sleeping.

In the couchette I was greeted by a gentleman and a lady, husband and wife, with a big smile.

They were both Russians and did not speak any English, unfortunately.

I lied on the bed and listened to some music.

I couldn’t fit myself in the bunk properly because of the small dimensions, but it was quite comfortable overall.

The first stop was due in Vekovka after three and a half hours.

There would be a total of eight stops all the way to Kazan, covering a distance of about 800 km.

The first few hours of the trip had been rather dull, apart from some funny bickering from husband and wife.

They seemed like a very nice couple, though.

The stop in Vekovka had been rather long, about half an hour, the next, in Murom, was just a matter of a handful of minutes instead.

We had greeted a fourth guest in our couchette at that point.

A Russian gentleman of about my same age.

He couldn’t speak any English, either.

It can be frustrating to hit the language barrier in those situations, but that’s one of the consequences of travelling like a local.

Overcoming that barrier is a matter of finding universal themes, acts, that allow people to overcome any cultural gap.

It can produce the most unexpected situations.

Often very amusing.

And a matter of life and death in the most extreme cases.

Technology can also come spectacularly in handy, like the pure magic of having an instant translator at your disposal.

So, I found myself talking to my phone most of the time at a certain point.

In reality, I was finally communicating with my bunkmates.

Boris and Marya, the Russian couple, husband and wife, were travelling back from Moscow, where they had visited their boy Nikolai, a third-year engineering student.

They were making some dinner in the confined space of the couchette, skilfully manoeuvring between bags and luggages.

I was in charge to get hot water through the carriage kettle to make some tea.

We had some delicious siberian dumplings for dinner.

Boris and Marya were from Novosibirsk, the third-largest city in Russia, “The capital of Siberia”.

The other guy, Ivan, was travelling back to Sergach, his hometown, the next stop on the way to Kazan, after a few days of holidays spent in Moscow.

Sharing food in a couchette is one of the most intimate experience you can have on a trip.

I would go as far as saying that’s the essence of travelling.

The purest one.

*Boris and Marya sitting on the left side and Ivan lying on the bunk on the right side, after our dinner inside the couchette*

Boris and Marya shared their food with me, like any parents would do with their children.

Like I was their son.

Because that’s what they made me feel at that moment.

*Boris and Marya chilling out in one of the stops during our trip to Kazan*

We arrived in Kazan around 2:30 a.m.

When the train started to slow down approaching the railway station, Boris stood up from the bunk, while Marya kept sleeping.

He came out of the couchette helping me with the luggages.

Then he gave me a strong, unexpected hug with its perpetual smile on its face, before going back to his bunk.

I felt like never before in my life, loved and protected, like a son would feel when his father doesn’t hold back.

That’s a perfect world that can only exist in some fleeting moments, I guess.

I got out of the train, traversing the darkness of the Kazan railway station, and walking in the direction of the hotel, that was about a kilometre away.

Amazingly enough, the first lights of the down were appearing over the horizon.

A beautiful eastern down.

I felt relived, happy almost.

From Rome to Asia without flying – Moscow, the holy city

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

The ride from Saint Petersburg to Moscow is a straight line that runs for about 650 km Southside, through the oblasts of Leningrad, Novgorod, Tver and indeed Moscow.

On May 23, 2019, I took a taxi at 7:30 a.m. to the Petersburg Moskovsky Station, one of the oldest train station in Saint Petersburg, located on 85, Nevsky Avenue.

Upon arriving at the station at about 8 a.m., I sit to the only Café present in the main hall for a black coffee.

My train was schedule to leave the platform 1 at 8:55 a.m.

It was a Sapsan (it means peregrine falcon in Russian language) high speed train.

To my surprise, we were required to go through a security check before boarding.

The train left the station right on time.

It was a comfortable, relatively fast, ride, like what you can get when travelling from Rome to Milan on a Frecciarossa.

We arrived at the Moscow Leningradsky Station 4 hours later.

I had to queue several minutes outside the station to get a taxi.

Then we had to drive through the heavy traffic of Moscow to reach the hotel at about 2 p.m.

After checking in, I went to my room on the second floor and crashed on the king bed.

I woke up at 5 p.m.

My mobile made a final bit, then died.

I was starving.

I realized at that point I had left the charger behind.

I walked to the nearby Tverskaya Street, the main radial street of Moscow, looking for a phone shop.

I was quite lucky to find a guy that was selling mobile accessories in the underpass instead.

I got my new charger and I walked a little bit further Southside, until I came across a small market.

I had a sandwich while sitting by the window, waiting for my phone to come back on, admiring the austere yet fiabesque facade of the State Historical Museum.

The *Marshal Zhukov monument standing before the State Historical Museum*

After sending few messages, when my phone had reached a sufficient capacity, I kept walking in the direction of the Museum.

*Voskresenskiye Vorota, The Resurrection Gate*

When I finally reached the Red Square, I had one of those moments that are difficult to put into words.

I was born in 1980, my childhood was full of Holywood references, from The Goonies to Ghostbusters.

The pop culture coming from the USA infiltrated our way of living at every level.

It was a happy, wealthy era.

Despite that, the Italian Communist party was still one of the biggest in Europe.

In 1984, Enrico Berlinguer, the PCI secretary, one of the most beloved political leader in the history of Italian politics, died as a result of a stroke he had while holding a public rally.

That same year, in the European elections the PCI achieved its highest result (33.3 percent of the vote), overtaking albeit slightly and for the first and only time the Christian Democratic Party (33.0 percent of the vote). [1]

The Italian Communist party would disintegrate in the next few years, but its big influence would hold throughout the ’90s.

As a rebellious teenager, I would embrace that ideology as a form of counterculture.

There had been the Gulf War, then the bombing of Serbia.

At that time, we were beginning to understand that soft power was meant to hide a much more aggressive face of the USA.

All this is to say, that to me, the Red Square has always been much more than a mere geographical place.

It was a symbol of a totally different way of thinking and living.

A kind of hope (never fulfilled).

Lenin’s Mausoleum, located at Red Square in Moscow, Russia. It serves as the resting place of Soviet leader Vladimir Lenin, whose preserved body has been on public display since shortly after his death in 1924

I had a superb dinner at Grand Cafe Dr. Jhivago that evening, where I ordered a mushroom soup with Porcini and Siberian dumplings.

That next day, when I opened the blue, heavy curtains from my room at the Neapol Hotel, the sky was cloudy but somehow purposeful.

I felt in a great mood for the day ahead.

I went back to the Red Square, where a huge stage was on display on the south-east side for the celebration of slavic culture.

From there you can usually admire the stunning beauty of the St. Basil Cathedral, emerging from the ground.

That view was obstructed, unfortunately, but I was able to take a lovely pic of the Basil nonetheless.

From the Red Square to the Kremlin (it means fortress in Russian language), it is a short walk (less than 10 min) that you can take through the Alexander Gardens.

*View of the Gardens Parade from the Kremlin walls*

You will take the entrance of the fortress, traversing a bridge that connects to the Troitskaya Tower.

Once you enter the Kremlin, you just need to walk a few steps further to step into Cathedral Square, one of the holiest places on earth.

You’ll then come across The Cathedral of the Dormition, dedicated to the dormition of the Theotokos.

*The Cathedral of Dormition, also known as The Assumption cathedral. In 1547, the coronation of the first Russian Tsar, Ivan the Terrible, took place here.*

I don’t think you have to be religious to experience the sheer beauty of such a place.

*View of Cathedral Square from the North Side*

*The Ivan the Great Bell Tower on Cathedral Square* *is the tallest tower and structure of the Kremlin*

*The Cathedral of Dormition* and *Ivan the Great Bell Tower* *side by side*

*The Cathedral of the Annunciation dedicated to the Annunciation of the Theotokos is also located on Cathedral Square*

*The Cathedral of the Archangel on the South East side*

Walking past Cathedral Square, overwhelmed by its magnificence, I reached Bol’shoy Kremlovskiy Square.

*View of the Tsar bell and the Spasskaya Tower* *inside the Kremlin walls*

After spending the entire morning there, I walked out of the Kremlin, taking through the Alexander Gardens once again.

*A different view of The Alexander Gardens*

I finally sit on the steps of Borovitskaya Square to enjoy a quick lunch that consisted of a sandwich and a banana I had got in a small market nearby.

The sky had cleared at that point.

*The Monument of Vladimir the Great standing of Borovitskaya Square*

My legs were a bit sore, but I was excited about all the sights experienced up then.

And I still had a full afternoon head of me.

In such moments, you can really realize how many good things you can realize in a single day.

In the day-to-day life, you miss all that magic.

The Bolshoi Ustinsky Bridge is only a few steps away from Borovitskaya Square.

From there, you can enjoy the best panoramic view of the Kremlin, one that has been impressed in the memory of millions of people in the West.

*View of the Kremlin from the observation deck on The Bolshoi Ustinsky Bridge*

I kept walking along the Moskva River, on Bersenevskaya Naberezhnaya to reach the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour, a few hundred metres southwest of the Kremlin.

*View of the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour and the Patriarshy Bridge*

The Cathedral was entirely rebuilt after being destroyed in 1931 on the order of the Soviet Politburo.

The first church took more than 40 years to build.

*Another view* of the *Cathedral of Christ the Saviour from the Patriarshy Bridge*

It was a lovely afternoon, the sun was still shining bright on the sky.

I grasped whatever I had left in the tank, and walked back to the Tverskoy District, to enjoy the rest of the day.

*People enjoying a sunny afternoon in central Moscow*

I sit across the splendid neoclassical facade of the Bolshoi Theatre, in admiration of yet another landmark of this incredible city.

With the sun setting behind the massive mansions of central Moscow, I picked one of the many outdoors on Ulitsa Rozhdestvenka to enjoy some Russian Pelmeni (meat dumplings).

Back to my room at Neapol, I had a long, hot shower, and finally crashed on the bed to sleep like a baby.

I had another train to catch, early in the morning the next day.

A dream to grasp, within the dream I was already living.

From Rome to Asia without flying – Western Russia

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, economy, travel, Lifestyle, travel, World

What we talk about, when we talk about Russia?

It’s not easy these days, let’s make that clear first.

Many people have been forced to wrongly associate the history, tradition, culture of a complex yet unbelievable country with the current state of politic or a powerful, controversial figure as Vladimir Putin.

That’s unfortunate.

I feel that, as a person who was lucky enough to traverse its vastness, diversity, richness.

Russia is the largest country in the world with a total area of 17,098,242 Km² (6,601,665 mi²) and a land area of 16,376,870 Km² (6,323,142 mi²). [1]

When we talk about Russia, we talk about an enormous body that contains different animas, religions, even continents.

Let’s focus on the western part of this multilayered tradition.

We are talking about the area that ranges from Saint Petersburg to Moscow, which takes only a tiny portion of the whole body.

It is worth to pinpoint another impressive fact at this point:

There are eleven time zones in Russia, which currently observe times ranging from UTC+02:00 to UTC+12:00. [2]

Probably, most people that live in the two biggest Russian cities, see themselves as westerners.

Or at least I had this impression when I visited back in 2019.

Things have changed since then, as Ukraine invasion by Russia has had a huge impact on that perception, I believe.

The West, which basically means USA and Europe, has moved with all its means to alienate Russia.

They succeeded, at least on a cultural level, as everything that is associated with Russia is perceived with a bias these days.

Social media, which are breeding one conformist after another, have only amplified this strategy.

History, literature, architecture, beauty, should have no flag.

That’s my belief.

But, when you talk about Russia, people tend to get cold, to turn their heads.

That’s a pity, I repeat.

While Saint Petersburg remains the cultural capital of the country, because of its undisputed beauty and sophistication, Moscow is the political and economical centre.

Most of the country wealth is concentrated here, in that tiny strip that face Northern Europe.

Capitalism, in the Russian translation, means gas, oligarchs.

After the Soviet Union collapse in 1991, the oligarchs, favored by a ruling class of inept (you remember Boris Yeltsin right?), have feasted on the country’s great mining heritage.

Putin’s rise was facilitated by some of them, who probably underestimated the man, thinking they could keep manoeuvring the Russia’s president like a puppet.

Well, it didn’t go that way.

Putin has gone out of his way to make it easier for those who never opposed him, taking out whoever tried to challenge him.

The rest is history.

In this part of Russia, wealth is often exhibited, as a symbol of power and masculinity.

It is a post-Soviet tradition that has roots in the empire period, I suppose.

Russia has always seen herself as a powerful imperial state.

This is something that goes beyond the personality of an individual leader.

It is an historical attribute.

Then there is the religious matter at the heart of any intricate dynamic concerning this country.

*A view of Red Square, with a glimpse of the mausoleum containing Lenin’s remains.*

When we talk about western Russia, we talk about a Cristhian orthodox tradition, whose incredible legacy is on display at every corner of cities such as St. Petersburg and Moscow.

On the other side, there’s revolution and the looming presence of Lenin, with whom any Russian leader must contend.

Putin has successfully navigated these two worlds without explicitly favoring either of them.

I have got the sense that on this side of Russia, no one wants to be a communist anymore.

But at the time, the revolution started far away, finally reaching Moscow.

And there’s also the journey to be taken through the social ranks.

I don’t think it surprises anyone that there may be communist nostalgics among those who are having a hard time.

And they are not a small number in Russia.

When I was visited Saint Petersburg or Moscow, I had the feeling that you get in any big western city, though.

People seemed to enjoy comfort and have a desire to live a free, happy life.

Isn’t that what we all ultimately want?

In my next article, I will talk about the days I spent in Moscow, the capital, the holy city, the centre of any historical and political intrigue.

Stay tuned fellas.

From Rome to Asia without flying – Saint Petersburg, a writer dream

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

I don’t know about yourself, but I often have the feeling that this thing that we call life is just a dream.

It’s an old, recurring theme in literature and in neuroscience today, as the way we perceive reality can be described as a “controlled hallucination”.

We don’t see things as they are, but as we are.

Which means that our mind is constantly creating a vision before our eyes.

A dream, literary.

Past, present and future flow in that same ephemeral river, as if they never existed.

“And so I ask myself: Where are your dreams? And I shake my head and mutter: How the years go by! And I ask myself again: What have you done with those years? Where have you buried your best moments? Have you really lived?”, ask Dostoevsky in the White Nights, a short story he wrote about an isolated, dreamer character living in Saint Petersburg.

A classic of his.

The answer seems to be captured in another quote of the same book:

“But how could you live and have no story to tell?”

We can’t, indeed, we need to make sense of that hallucination telling (writing) stories about ourselves, about others.

Especially when life seems to play the absurdity card for us.

Without doing so, we are going to fall in a bottomless, hellish pit, and we are simply going to die, miserably.

That seems an appropriate premise to make in talking about my Petersburg days.

There is probably no better city on earth for daydreaming and storytelling.

Quite often its beauty is so striking that it generates a kind of jealousy, though.

You would want to treasure it, like a rare and beautiful dream, indeed.

But that’s no the reason why we are here, and why we do what we do.

We do inflame that sparkling fantasy of ours through images, for example.

Above are some photos of the Church of the Savior on Spilled Blood, erected on the same site where the emperor Alexander II was assassinated by members of the nihilist movement.

The “spilled blood” suffix refers indeed to his assassination.

Too bad the dome was under renovation works at that time, nonetheless the facade retained its glorious magnificence.

“I am a dreamer. I know so little of real life that I just can’t help re-living such moments as these in my dreams,” says again Dostoevsky in the White Nights, a book that marked my adolescence deeply.

As an idealistic, hyper sensitive, impressionable, teenager I could identify and empathize with Dostoevsky’s protagonist, with his inadequacy, his loneliness.

One of the many things that scares me about the present world, is the fact that today, young people don’t seem to have any interest in reading great literature.

They are easily addicted to social media scrolling, consuming contents that don’t nurture their mind, their souls.

That has a huge impact on their cognitive abilities, but also on their feelings.

I believe that a particularly sensitive guy finds no comfort in scrolling through pictures and videos on Instagram, YouTube or even worse, TikTok.

Honestly, I have no idea how young people can cope with life today, but I am pretty sure that my adolescence would have been darker, marked by anxiety and a sense of being constantly inadequate, without books.

You may have realized by now that I have a hard time talking about my Petersburg days through a linear narrative, but that’s because I really experienced it all as a dream.

Time windows open one into the other.

So, I’d rather let the pictures do the talking here:

St. Petersburg is the city of canals, more than 60, of one of the world’s richest museums, the Hermitage, which features a painting by Leonardo da Vinci, one of the earliest works of the High Renaissance, Madonna Litta, of Petrine Baroque by Domenico Trezzani and Giovanni Fontana among others.

It’s also the city where the greatest writer of all time, Fëdor Michajlovič Dostoevskij, lived most of his life and set most of his fiction works.

*The F. M. Dostoyevsky Literary Memorial Museum located on Kuznechny Lane 5/2*

I had the privilege to visit the apartment on Kuznechny Lane 5/2 where Dostoevskij lived twice during his life, first for a short period in 1846 in the beginnings of his career, and later from October 1878, when he wrote The Brothers Karamazov, until his death in January 1881.

Mine was thus a pilgrimage to the city where the writer who most marked my personal and intellectual path, is still buried.

From Mskovskiy Prospekt, I took the Metro 4, the orange line, to reach Alexander Nevsky Square, where the Tikhvin Cemetery is located.

Walking in that sacred place was without doubt one of the highlight of my journey to Asia.

One of the milestone of my entire life, I would dare to say.

Finding the grave wasn’t hard, as the cemetery is a tiny one.

*The grave of Fyodor Dostoevsky and his wife Anna*

I cannot hide the fact that I was particularly moved at that moment.

And I would certainly fail in trying to describe my feelings and thoughts, how surreal the whole thing appeared to me.

I cannot reveal my private conversation with him, either, with whoever was listening in the universe at that particular moment.

I want to close this article with the gold paint epitaph transcribed on the grave, including Dostoyevsky’s favorite Gospel verse:

Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit (Jn. 12:24).

From Rome to Asia without flying – A bus to Saint Petersburg, Russia

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

I got on the bus at the Autobussijaam on 46 Lasted str. at 6:35 a.m.

It would have been a trip of about eight hours, one of the longest made via bus on this journey to Asia.

I remember all these women, with their faces marked by age and fatigue, boarding the bus with plastic bags full of clothes.

It had become a recurring scene while travelling Eastern Europe.

This time I picked a company called Ecolines, which provides quality services and affordable prices all across Europe.

The trip was quite comfortable, with several stops along the way.

When we reached the Narva-Ivangorod crossing border, we had to go through the check point.

For the first time in my life, I was actually traversing a land border, while leaving Europe behind me.

I also felt that I was entering a different dimension of the journey, that had nothing to do with all the trips I had done previously.

It was probably about the skin change that a tourist undergoes when he starts to actually travel.

I mean, for real.

Which is definitely not about flying from an airport to another, experiencing a city, or any place for that matter, through a schedule of things to see, to do.

In the end, I really believe that travelling has more to do with experiencing people and places with the illusion of never having to leave them.

With that same pace as life goes.

Even if your next destination it is a city that you have never seen before, as in my case, but one that you have dreamt a lot about.

So, travelling is to chase the desire that every place in the world can be your home after all.

We queued for a while, waiting to get our visa checked, then we walked for about a kilometre to get on a different bus.

We left the border after an hour, approximately.

We got to Saint Petersburg before 4 p.m.

The impression of the city was immediately different, compared to everything I had seen up to that point.

A question of dimensions, above all else.

The huge boulevards that offered the somewhat ostentatious perspective of a special grandeur.

I checked into my room in Zakharievskaya Ulitsa 23, in the Tsentralny District, right in the heart of the city.

After a quick shower, I went out looking to buy a local sim card.

I found a mobile shop around the corner, called Tele 2.

Fortunately, the guy at the counter could speak some English.

With Google Maps up and running again, I was able to find the nearest bus station with the intention to reach the Nevsky Avenue.

It was a fast ride to the Leningrado Hero City Obelisk.

There I came across of group of young fellas that were playing This is Love by Maroon 5.

Welcome to Russia, I said to myself, smiling wryly.

The Nevsky Avenue suddenly struck me with its grandiose perspective.

Ultimately, that is one of the reasons for its very existence.

In the years of its construction, between 1715 and 1726, it was referred to as the Large promising road or the Large perspective.

Here’s a note from Wikipedia:

Its name comes from the Alexander Nevsky Lavra, the monastery which stands at the eastern end of the street, and which commemorates the Russian hero Prince Saint Alexander Nevsky (1221–1263). Following his founding of Saint Petersburg in 1703, Tsar Peter I planned the course of the street as the beginning of the road to Novgorod and Moscow. The avenue runs from the Admiralty in the west to the Moscow Railway Station and, after veering slightly southwards at Vosstaniya Square, to the Alexander Nevsky Lavra. [1]

While I was walking along the huge avenue, with the sunset that had begun to inflame the facades of the baroque buildings, I had in mind a song of the genius Italian songwriter Franco Battiato, that goes like this:

And we studied locked in a room
The dim light of candles and oil lamps
And when it came to talking
We always waited with pleasure
And my teacher taught me how difficult it is
To find the dawn within the dusk

The song is called Nevsky Prospect.

I was getting hungry, so I decided to sneak into a Pasta Fresca and order gnocchi with cheese.

I finally walked back to my flat, that was about 30 minutes away, enjoying a lovely Petersburg evening, living a dream with open eyes.

*The window of a book store I ran into on my way home*

From Rome to Asia without flying – A ferry to Helsinki, Finland

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

The alarm got off quite early that morning.

The delicate light of dawn touching the curved towers of the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral.

I took a shower, then quickly dressed, skipping breakfast.

My taxi was coming at 7 a.m.

I reached the pier after twenty minutes drive.

I bought my return ticket and waited in line to board the ferry.

We sailed out of Tallinn dockland at 8:30 a.m., perfectly on time.

The boat was quite massive, an M/S Finladia of the Eckero Line, equipped with a cafeteria and restaurant and a small theatre where a small orchestra was performing.

I was not really in the mood to listen to live music so early in the morning, so I preferred to go on the deck to enjoy the beautiful morning.

*Here I am, with a marine style by a slightly overzealous French barber.*

The crossing of the Gulf Of Finland took a little over two hours.

After docking at the Helsinki marina, I grabbed another cab to reach the old market area.

I was starving at that point.

I had some Karjalanpiirakka (Karelian Pie), delicious crusty dumplings filled with creamy rice porridge.

*An Instagram story that I posted while having lunch at the old market hall.*

I then took a fast boat for a tour of the Suomenlinna archipelago, an inhabited sea fortress composed of eight islands, of which six have been fortified.

Unfortunately, due to the fact that I have been relying on my cloud storage only, I don’t have many pics of that boat trip to show here.

In fact, most of the photos of my travel to Asia have been stored to a local drive that I don’t have at my disposal at the moment.

I am currently located in Vietnam, while the drive is in my hometown in Italy.

I was able to recover some shots of that day, though.

A glimpse of the island’s landscape and the majestic profile of a Viking and Silja lines M/S Mariella, which at the very moment were crossing the Kustaanmiekka Strait, an 81-metre-wide channel between Kustaanmiekka and Vallisaari island in the archipelago.

I remember walking a lot that day, exploring all the corners of the massive fortification that was built during the Swedish era as a maritime fortress and a base for the Archipelago Fleet.

It was about 5 p.m. when I got back to the Old Market pier.

There was time to stop for a drink and some finger food, before going back to the dockland.

I’m going to make a confession at this point.

I never paid for that Old Fashioned and those fries.

I ran away to a shopping mall nearby, experiencing the thrill of having just done something illegal.

The guilty pleasures of life, aren’t they?

I also remember having this moment in the waiting room at the harbour, staring at the huge glass wall from which I could see a lovely canal going through a straight line that died in the immensity of the sea.

I thought that I still had a lot of life ahead of me and I should not have been afraid anymore.

I was finally starting my recover, even though I didn’t fully realize that then.

I had a lovely dinner on the boat trip, enjoying the music abroad this time.

I was back in Tallinn on a beautiful white night.

I was ready to leave Europe.

From Rome to Asia, without Flying – Tallinn, a city on the edge of the future

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

The next morning, I got on a bus to Tallinn, Estonia.

It was going to be a 4h30min trip.

A pleasant one this time.

I was travelling with a young girl that I had met at the bus station, with whom I had started an interesting conversation.

Her name was Viola.

She was French.

I was shocked to hear that she was just eighteen.

I remember thinking that at her age, I was struggling in high school, arguing every day with teachers that I considered too prude, dreaming about being a great writer one day.

It wasn’t on my horizon to embark myself on a solo trip around Europe.

I was convinced that my interest should have been addressed towards books, nothing else.

The world scared me, that was the truth.

That’s the reason why I admired Viola, her authentic curiosity but above all her imaginative ambition.

It was already clear in her mind that her path would never have crossed a university classroom.

She didn’t know what to do yet, but she was confident she didn’t want to be a student anymore.

“I like drawing”, she showed me a notebook with some amazing sketches she had made during her trip.

Visages, urban streetscapes, natural landscapes.

I was truly moved.

There’s nothing that makes me more excited than recognizing real talent in people.

“Whatever you choose to do, don’t waste it, Viola”, I told her.

“My parents don’t agree”, she smiled gently.

“About what?”, I asked.

“About being an artist. They are very bourgeois.”

I was not expecting that level of social awareness, especially coming from a young person like her.

But French are French, for a reason.

Pardon my tautological statement.

“You seem very independent, though …”, I had been very careful not to share my reflection on the bourgeois money that probably allowed her to travel at so young age.

One should not have this kind of expectations from an 18-year-old.

“I am, I don’t listen to them. I do, what I like to do at the end.”

After all, if you want to be a true artist, you don’t have to give a damn about moralism or money.

Let conformists care about that.

“So, keep doing it, don’t waste time in being responsible for other’s opinion. Even if they are your parents,” I was trying to “save” her from my past mistakes.

I always considered myself to be too self-conscious to become a true artist.

“No one has ever told me something like that.”

“I can relate to you. I like to write.”

“Oh, that’s interesting. What do you write?”

“Fiction.”

“Have you ever published anything?”

“Nothing, so far.”

“That’s ok, writers don’t have a biological clock, right?”

We both laughed.

We got to Tallinn at about 4pm.

It had not seemed appropriate to do anything else than say goodbye to her at that point.

No hugging, no phone numbers exchange.

“Have a great life Viola”, this is what I said to her.

I then walked to my flat, that was located in the Kaarli Church area, on the edge of the old town.

A very pretty, smiling girl welcomed me for the check in.

She showed me the small but lovely studio, with a fascinating view of the onion domes of the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral.

I decided to have a quick nap, but I soon realized that I was too excited to sleep.

I showered and got out with the intention to do a first exploration of the old town.

The daylight was particularly intense.

I felt good, energized, like I hadn’t felt in a long time.

The separation with the past was widening, geographically and in some sense spiritually, with each day passing.

I entered the southern gate of the old city, reaching Harju Street park, next to St. Nicholas’ Church.

I stopped to Caffeine EE for a soy cappuccino.

I then profited off one of the comfortable lounger chairs that are found in the park for sunbathing.

Despite the present issues due to its proximity to Russia, Tallinn continues to be a hotspot for technology nowadays.

It is one of the European cities with the highest number of startups in the tech industry.

With all the tech giants (Google, Amazon, Apple, etc.) operating in the Estonian capital, Tallinn is leading the smart city revolution.

What it really means to be a “smart city” though?

Today, 85% of Estonia’s population is connected to broadband, 100% of medical prescriptions are provided online, and 30% of citizens vote electronically. 98% of citizens have the digital identity card, which comes with a PIN code and is key to many transactions from bank to retail and transport.
Both the entire nation and the capital city are working to provide efficient, convenient digital services for citizens, visitors, and businesses. This includes common infrastructure for data exchange, the integration of the national e-ID system into authentication mechanisms, and innovations in other areas such as transport – which has been free in Tallinn since 2013 (for residents). The city’s goal for urban mobility is that everyone should be able to reach important places in 15 minutes through public or active transportation.
For Tallinn, being smart means providing good digital services through effective IT solutions. However, for these technologies to work, citizens must be willing and able to use them. Therefore, the definition term “smart” also includes the usefulness for the public. Tallinn is a very digital city with lots of free Wi-Fi, e-services, and open data. In recent years, with this infrastructure up and running, the Estonian capital has focused on involving people more in the planning process to make it smarter and more inclusive. [1]

Back in 2019, with the digital revolution at its peak, I didn’t have any clue of a city which had already embodied a so advanced concept of modernity.

To my shame, I have to admit that I wasn’t interested in such dynamics back in those days.

Let me open a small digression, at this point.

Writing about this journey not only allows me to revive something unique, a memory that would be regrettably lost.

But it gives me the incredible opportunity to rework that same memory, incorporating it with present information, creatively, reprocessing it into a totally innovative framework.

At that time, my only intent was to relish the beauty that came before my eyes.

That is what I would do that evening, enjoying a Chicken Korma in Town Hall Square, and then walking around in the areas of Viru Gate, St. Peter and Paul’s Cathedral, Vene Street.

And in the following day, crossing those same alleyways on a lovely May morning.

Admiring all the charm of the old town from the Toompea Hill.

Where I would later witness a spectacular sunset, with an intense, magical northern light that lingered over the Baltic Sea.

One of those moments that will stay distinctively in my memory as unique, special.

The very next day, I would decide to swing over to the other side of the Gulf of Finland.

I will talk about it in the next chapter of this series.

From Rome to Asia without flying – Riga, a city of a thousand fascinations

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

I arrived at the Riga bus station at lunchtime, under a dark grey sky.

I was still recovering from my hangover.

The entire trip had been terrible.

I decided to walk to my flat, that was about 20 minutes away from the station.

Before reaching what was actually a room in Gogoļa iela 7, nearby Riga central market, I stopped for a soup and a sandwich.

I had a code provided by the owner to enter the building, an old three-story with a rather decaying facade.

The interior was even worse in some ways.

A sad wooden staircase and electric wires hanging horribly from the ceiling.

I suddenly felt the full burden of a dramatic historical heritage.

I went up to the third floor using one of those ancient scenic elevators that gives you chills along the spine.

I had to use another code to retrieve a key from the safety box hung by the door.

There seemed to be no one inside the flat.

I could hear the dull sound of the street coming from an open window somewhere in the apartment.

I crossed the dark hallway, turned left, on a very tight corner, then again to the right where there were two doors, one in front of the other.

My room was the one on the right, the number 11.

I went inside, without needing to use the key.

The curtains were wide open, a subtle afternoon light illuminating the bed, a metal nightstand with a glass base, a sort of open closet with a set of crutches, and a lamp hanging in a corner.

To my relief, I noticed the minuscule but completely private bathroom.

I dropped my heavy backpack, then promptly tested the mattress’ comfort.

Not that great.

But I was exhausted, so I slept for a few hours regardless.

When I woke up, it was already dark outside.

I heard a rattling of dishes coming from the kitchen.

Then feminine whispers.

When I left the room, there was no one there.

It had started to drizzle outside.

I slipped on my raincoat and began walking in the direction of the old town.

I couldn’t go far, as the rain got quite heavy.

I found refuge in a Starbucks, where I got a Caramel Macchiato, and I waited for the rain to stop.

I then decided to cut an old friend off once and forever.

The same guy that didn’t bother to reply to my text the night before.

I removed him from my Instagram, blocked his account on Facebook.

I was strangely relieved by my actions.

It kept raining heavily.

I was hungry.

I considered the McDonald’s around the corner as the best option I had at that point.

I gave in to the American capitalism once again, then I went back to my room.

I couldn’t sleep, though.

Something bothered me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

I certainly didn’t figure that night all the problems I had been facing for a while.

It took me quite a long time for that.

I was woken up by the sunlight cutting through the pale curtains.

I showered, got dressed, grabbed my camera and got out of the room.

Once again, I didn’t encounter anyone in the flat.

The sun was finally shining outside.

I decided to walk to the central market to grab some breakfast.

Located on the edge of the Daugava river, Riga’s Central Market is Europe’s largest market.

It has a unique structure, with its five WWI Zeppelin aircraft hangars where all the stalls are neatly separated, selling meat, fish, vegetable and dairy.

As already happened in many other cities around the world, with the rise of supermarkets, the central market has become not only the sole source of affordable local goods but a cultural landmark of the city.

One of the few places where you can actually catch a glimpse of a city’s soul.

That morning I was attracted by a bakery in a corner of the fish and vegetables hangar.

A blonde, smiling girl, with curly air, was selling giant bread rolls.

“What is this?”, I asked her, pointing to a pile of doughnuts.

“Uzbekistani Non Bread”, she replied promptly, to continue: “You should try them out, they are delicious”.

I wasted no time, I sat at the counter and I ordered a round flatbread topped with sesame seeds.

“Can I also have an Espresso?”, I had already noticed the coffee machine behind her.

“Certo!”, she shouted in Italian.

I had probably appeared quite surprised to her at that point.

“Ho vissuto in Italia per qualche anno, prima di venire qui a Riga.”

Her Italian was flawless.

“Sei di qui?”

“Sono russa.”

“E cosa ci fai qua?”

“Quello che vedi”, she was placing the small cup of Espresso on the counter.

“In italia non è andata bene?”, I was wondering how it was possible to favor a place like Riga over Italy, at least in terms of work opportunities.

“Facevo la bandante, non ho trovato altro purtroppo”.

“Perché Riga?”

“È stato solo un caso alla fine …”

She kept serving her customers with a big, contagious smile.

“Amo l’Italia e la sua cultura. Mi piacerebbe tornare un giorno”, she finally added.

How many people had chosen Italy, but like her, didn’t find any fortune there?

I felt disappointed by my country.

A short line of people had been forming, waiting to be served.

The doughnut was truly delicious.

“In bocca al lupo!”, she shouted while I was leaving.

To my shame, I then realized that I haden’t even bothered to ask her name.

I spent all morning walking around the Vecrīga (old town), losing myself in pure wonder.

I climbed the astounding bell tower of the St. Peter’s Church, admiring the colourful and extravagant architecture of the old town all at once.

I got struck by the stunning facade of the House of the Black Heads.

I didn’t fail to marvel other beautiful landmarks, like the Riga Cathedral or the Three Brothers.

After having lunch in a nice café around Dome Square, with my energy level dropping significantly, I decided to head to the Museum of the Occupation of Latvia that was located nearby.

It was totally worth a shot.

It’s a very well organized exhibition of the tragic history of those occupations.

Latvia is one of those few countries of the eastern block which has the unique distinction of having been occupied by both Nazis and Soviets.

It is not hard to imagine that this is a historical peculiarity that no one would want to share.

All the Baltic countries, along with Poland, have suffered to an extent that is difficult to fathom.

You need to go to a museum like this to understand the motivations that still drive these countries nowadays to move as close as possible to the Western bloc, chasing away the ghosts of the past.

I couldn’t miss a visit to Alberta iela, the Art Nuveau street, where it is impossible not to get lost in admiration for the series of atypical, outstanding buildings designed by the architect Mikhail Eisenstein.

I then turned back in the direction of the old city.

Sitting on a bench inside the Bastejkalna Park had seemed like the best way to collect my thoughts of the lovely day that was passing by.

One of the most abused phrases on social media is the one attributed to Prince Myshkin in Dostoevsky’s novel The Idiot.

Beauty will save the world.

As much as it may seem a somewhat sugar-coated and ultimately banal phrase, there is something extraordinarily profound in it.

For instance, the fact that artistic and architectural beauty, can act as effective antidotes against cynicism and nihilism.

Furthermore, the beauty of rebirth after the tragedy is something that can literally spare us from the spiritual death.

As sunset approached on the Fountain Nymph with its beautiful crown of yellow roses, on the facade of the Latvian National Opera House in the background, I had the feeling that Riga had already left an indelible mark on my heart.

From Rome to Asia without flying – A bus to Vilnius, Lithuania

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

The day after, I was up pretty early.

I went to the Starbucks downstairs for a cappuccino and a scone.

The morning light coming through the window was pleasantly warm.

People wearing suits were leaving quickly with their takeout cups.

They were running to their offices to perform some kind of task they considered crucial in that particular moment.

That was their life.

It had been that way for me, too, for a long time.

But that day, my only goal was to catch a bus at 8:30 in the morning.

And I was feeling at peace with my purpose.

About an hour later, I was walking towards the bus station, which was less than a kilometer away.

It was somehow comforting, feeling all the gravity of my backpack on my shoulders.

I was ready to hit the road, again.

A seven hours ride to Vilnius, the Lithuanian capital.

The bus was a modern one, with all the comforts you would expect for a long trip.

Large seats, big screen, long legrooms, toilets.

On board, apart from myself, there was a woman carrying a large plastic bag with some clothes.

I took the chance to do some reading, listen to music and update my travel journal with the latest events.

I was also able to get some sleep, fortunately.

Finally, there was time to admire the landscape changing between birch forests and immense rapeseed fields.

We arrived at the Vilnius bus station around 5 pm.

The sunlight was still strong outside.

I managed to be scammed by a taxi driver that was waiting for idiots like myself.

15 euro for a 3km ride.

The hotel was within the old city walls.

My room overlooking one of the many alleys that lead to the Cathedral Square.

*The view on the alley from the hotel entrance*

I had a long, hot shower.

Then lied on the bed for a few minutes, closing my eyes, with the sole intent of enjoying the new acclimating phase.

I was out for sunset time.

I reached Savičiaus Gatvė, one of the most vibrant street in the old town.

I had some tapas and several glasses of red wine, before starting confusingly reflecting on my sentimental life.

It had been a disaster for quite a long time.

Was I still able to open my heart to someone?

I didn’t know what to think, what to feel, what to do anymore.

The alcohol was running wildly through the veins at that point.

I felt the need of a woman, but I was still too broken.

I texted an old friend of mine instead.

I have no idea if my words were nonsensical or somehow scary, but I didn’t get anything back from him.

We hadn’t been communicating for a while, though.

I suddenly turned to a dark mood.

I felt disappointed, sad, lonely.

I spent the rest of the night wondering around the old town, like a ghost.

All the people were looking light-hearted, cheerful.

I felt anger inside, and I didn’t know what to do with that.

I stopped on a bar in the Užupis area, with the aim of getting completely wasted.

I attained the goal with a pair of strong Old Fashioned.

I was suddenly miserable, again, feeling all the weight of the past on my neck.

This is not far enough.

That’s what I told to myself.

The sky was full of stars that night.

I was alone at my table, trying to remember the last time I felt truly happy.

I had no idea.

If I looked back, my life seemed nothing but a sequence of mistakes.

In my early days in Paris, during the Erasmus, I had met an Italian that was basically living in a hostel where I also spent a couple of weeks, before moving to a flat in Bastille.

The guy, I couldn’t remember his name, was one of the most depressed person I ever encountered.

In his filthy room, all he did was smoking joints, talking about how his life had been nothing but a giant mistake.

I remember thinking: where did it all go wrong for him?

Was there a particular event, a sudden death, a painful breakup, or was everything already there all along?

Is one trigger enough to unleash all the misery of life?

I didn’t have any answer.

It was all very confusing to me.

I just felt I couldn’t be in tune with all was happening around me.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I walked back to my hotel, along with my ghosts.

Despite my state, I had a pretty good night of sleep.

I woke up around 10 am, with a rough hang over to manage and a bus that would be leaving shortly and that I could not miss.

From Rome to Asia without flying – Warsaw, a city of ghosts and resurrection

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

I opened the curtain from my apartment on the third floor.

The soft light of the early morning slid in gently, revealing a rather composed disorder within my room.

The view from the large window, was quite overwhelming.

Modern, tall, skyscrapers stood imperious and proud across the street.

The Palace of Culture and Science, anonymously confined to a corner.

A sign of times.

A large, dark, cloud was creeping over the horizon.

I felt a sense of uneasiness, for the first time, since I had left Rome.

After days of movement, fatigue and excitement, the inertia was finally kicking in.

What am I going to do now? I said to myself.

I had what you can call a high level plan, but I realized I hadn’t worked out the details yet.

Shower.

Don’t think too much about it.

Grab the camera, go out, and see.

That had soon to become my mantra.

Srodmiescie, that’s the area where the Central Business District of Warsaw was built.

A modern city rebirth on the ghosts of a profound destruction.

45 Sienna Street was less than a block away from my apartment.

The “Under the Sailboat” flat house has a majestic facade that dominates the whole area.

One of the very few building in the city centre that did not get entirely destroyed during the war.

Here, seven marionette soldier figures, whose helmets and uniforms are decorated with currency symbols, will tell you what war is all about.

That’s the Blu’s mural, his anti-war manifesto, that was painted by the Italian artist as part of the Updates Festival in 2010.

It has become one of the most popular piece of street art in the world, since then.

I am going to admit my ignorance, by revealing you that I had to find out about all of that on Google.

About 100m away, in 55 Sienna Street, lays another important block of city history.

Again, a tragic one.

The border of Warsaw Ghetto was marked by the wall between Sienna 53 and 55 estates.

Established in 1940, this was the largest Nazi ghettos during World War II. [1]

At its height, as many as 460,000 Jews were imprisoned there, in an area of 3.4 km². [2]

A fragment of that same wall is still accessible from the side of a High School on 62 Zlota street.

I took the time to sit in front of that piece of ruin, and reflect on the enormity of the history encapsulated in it.

The jubilant yells of teens coming from the school reminded me that after all, there is nothing escaping the transience nature of this life.

Not even the greatest of sorrows.

That same day, I walked a few blocks to the Pałac Kultury i Nauki (The Palace of Culture and Science).

I then took an elevator to reach the observation deck located on the top terrace.

From there I had a pretty good view of the entire city extending across the Vistula River, under an enormous dark grey sky.

*The city skyline from the PKIN observation deck*

However, the chill northerly wind did not make that moment particularly pleasant.

I headed to the Old Town for lunch.

*Nicolaus Copernicus Monument standing before the Staszic Palace*

Totally destroyed during World War II, the entire district has been restored to the splendor of the origins.

A reconstruction effort that looks like a miracle of human resilience.

I sit in one of the many outdoors on Market Square, enjoying a timid but pleasant sun.

I had some fried Pierogi and a pint of Lager.

Then, I spent the afternoon wandering into the stunning alleys of the old city.

I was exhausted when I went back to my flat.

The sunset was fading out, creating an unexpected elegance around the totem of modernity.

I lied on the bed for a quick nap.

When I woke up, it was already dark outside.

With the stomach growling, the fastest option was to go downstairs to grab a kebab at the kiosk across the street.

Then, while having a meal that was anything but sophisticated, I sensed something inafferable and romantic.

Maybe it was about the city lights or the gentle noise of the night.

Or maybe it was something else.

Like a truth that was impossible to grasp.

From Rome to Asia without flying – An Intercity to Warsaw, Poland

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

I had the entire morning to spend at Wien Hauptbahnhof, the central station.

I left my heavy backpack in a storage room inside the station and I adventured outside.

I took the south exit on Sonnwendgasse and I kept going without any particular direction in mind.

It was a fresh, clear morning in Wien.

Maybe it was just another day in the ordinary life of many people, or maybe there’s no such thing as an ordinary life.

These are the kind of thoughts that I often lose myself in when bumping on the streets of an unknown city.

In all fairness, Wien was not completely unknown to me.

And, I don’t believe in the myth of “normal life” either.

What you might consider normal, it can be a total strangeness for others.

It’s just your unique perception on things.

It’s about being you.

I love the train of thoughts that lead to the mystery of consciousness.

I was back at the station by lunchtime.

I headed straight to the food hall, where I was lured by a kiosk that was serving huge Schnitzels with fries.

It was a delicious meal.

I went back to the storage room, then headed to the platform.

My train was scheduled to leave at 2 pm.

It was an Intercity to Warsaw.

The carriage was basic, perfectly clean.

Totally empty.

The strong sunlight reflecting on the window had a soporific effect on me.

I collapsed on the armchair.

I was exhausted.

I woke up when the train had already left the station.

A seven-hour ride was ahead of me at that point.

I took a book from my backpack.

When Money Dies: The Nightmare of Deficit Spending, Devaluation, and Hyperinflation in Weimar Germany, by Adam Fergusson.

It’s a fascinating book, especially if you are interested in the Nazi Germany phenomenology, taking place from the tragic history of the Weimar Republic.

But that’s not the kind of reading I would ever suggest anyone for a trip.

After a couple of pages of pure struggle, I was back sleeping again.

Until a sudden bounce knocked my head against the window.

Ouch.

The landscape outside had become rather monochromatic.

An endless stretch of rapeseed fields.

Were we in Czechia already?

I had no idea.

I knew that we were scheduled to stop in Olomouc, a city that didn’t say anything to me.

The whole thing – the thing I was doing – was beyond bizarre, I suddenly found myself thinking.

Yet, there was no uneasiness whatsoever.

It felt just natural.

A couple of hours after, more than halfway to the destination, the carriage had pretty much filled up.

Most of the people got on in the cities of Katowice and Cracow.

We were in Poland at that point.

Commuters, mostly in elegant suits, that were going back home after a long day of work.

I felt different from anyone.

I felt lucky.

I felt that intense pulse of life that can only derive from pure freedom.

The train stopped at the Warsaw station at about 9 pm.

It was dark and cold outside.

A subtle, sharp breeze was carrying gelid drops of rain.

The apartment, I had booked, was about a ten-minute walk away.

The city looked totally estranged, somewhat frightening.

I guess it had a lot to do with the monstrous derelict that dominated the dark horizon.

That was the Palace of Culture and Science, one of the tallest building in Europe, once dedicated to Joseph Stalin.

After a quick check in at the apartment, I was soon out again to grab a bite.

I slipped into a cantine that was just around the corner.

The atmosphere inside was quite jubilant, despite the fact that it was supposed to be an ordinary Thursday night.

I quickly realized that the reason was the event broadcasted on the big screen that covered part of the red bricks wall.

I ordered a pizza and a Coke Zero.

I watched the game.

The Champions League semifinal culminated with Tottenham’s victory over Ajax, thanks to a goal by Lucas Moira at the finish line.

One of the most incredible matches in football history.

Tears were running all over the pitch.

The Tottenham players were hugging each other in emotional disbelief.

The Ajax ones were also incredulous, but in total despair.

The essence of football was all there.

Beautiful, cruel.

I thought about how thrilling it would have been to watch the game with my father, analyzing all the technical-tactical facets.

I was realizing, at that moment, how much I loved that special ritual every time I was back home.

From Rome to Asia without flying – A night train to Wien, Austria

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in Senza categoria, economy, travel, travel, Lifestyle, World

Have you ever shared a sleeper in a night train?

That’s not a usual experience nowadays, I guess.

Interrail’s time have long passed.

That was for 90s guys like myself.

Now is the era of digital nomadism, where people fly to exotic places to do their fancy jobs.

That’s much cooler, right?

A ride on a night train sounds romantic, though.

But is often not, believe me.

It might sound a bit weird to say, but I have got the feeling that you live the same intimacy of a hospital room.

If you ever found yourself spending the night in a hospital (I sincerely hope not), you know what I am talking about.

People snore.

People talk.

People fart. (nothing to me ashamed of, ahah)

All sides of the human race, we are part.

Aren’t they?

You got to share all of that, because unless you are a filthy rich, you’re not going to have your own private room in a private clinic.

When I got on the train in Rome that day, I was alone in my couchette.

I normally have quite a heavy sleep, but in a situation like that you are always on the alert.

You fear about someone getting in and stealing your stuff, for example.

That didn’t happen, fortunately.

But I got woken up a couple of times during that night.

At the moment, I didn’t have any idea about the identity of my bunk companions.

When the hostess knocked at our sleeper, it was about 6 am.

Breakfast time.

Like at the hospital, indeed.

Someone opened the curtain.

The milky light of the dawn invaded the bunk.

I saw the man that had been sleeping beside me, for the first time.

He was a bit older than myself, about 50, probably.

White, short hairs, green eyes, a big smile.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Morning,” I replied.

The hostess was bringing trays with milk coffee, butter croissants, bread and jam.

We both sat on the bed.

At that point, another face popped up from the bunk above his.

“Hello”.

Ruffled, blond hairs, a child, likeable face at first glance.

“What time is it?”, he asked.

“Definitely too early,” I replied.

The three of us smiled.

The hostess remained serious, though.

She left our couchette.

The train kept stubbornly running on the railway.

The brighter light, inside the sleeper, revealed some details that I had missed before.

The man in front of me had a prominent baldness at the top of his head.

The young fella had been sleeping with his violin.

“Miles, nice to meet you.” Said the man, extending his hand towards me.

“Fabrizio.” My grip was rather weak.

He then reached the guy above him, with a little contortion.

“Michelangelo.”

“Both Italians?” The man asked promptly.

There was a hint of common understanding between Michelangelo and me.

“Non parlo italiano, scusi.” The man was a character.

We all burst into a laugh.

We had a nice chat, while we consumed our breakfast.

Miles was a danish architect that was returning from a wedding in Greece.

He had then decided to make the trip back home, without flying, taking the chance to accomplish a youth dream.

I was truly admired by the fact that his wife hadn’t found anything wrong in his desire to travel alone.

The kind of relationship that I had always dreamed of having.

When I revealed my plan, he was genuinely ecstatic.

“Wow, just wow. Take me with you, Fabrizio!”

“I want to join too.” Continued Michelangelo.

It was a fun moment, but also emotional.

Look at me, I thought.

Not so long ago, my life was on the brink of total collapse, now I have people admiring what I am doing.

I was about to cry, honestly.

My scars were still bleeding deeply.

The conductor had just announced that we were approaching the Wien Westbahnhof Station.

Michelangelo was an interesting character too.

The kind of person who can make anything he says fun without even trying too hard.

A brilliant person, basically.

He was from Parma, and he was traveling to Wien for an imminent concert.

He was hinting at the fact that a move to Austria was in order for his future, due to the lack of opportunities for classical musicians in Italy.

That didn’t surprise me at all.

After finishing breakfast, it was time to refresh and brush our teeth.

Miles went first, then myself, Michelangelo last.

When I got back to our couchette, I found Miles writing something on his notebook.

One of the beautiful things about accepting the adventure of life is the opportunity to participate somehow in other people stories.

That’s kind of a strange blessing.

The train had started to slowly approaching Wien Hauptbahnhof, the central station.

After a few minutes, it was time to shake our hands.

My grip was now firm.

“Good luck!”.

There was nothing else to say.

Once we got off the train, we all went our separate ways.

I took a long breath.

A tiny part of my past was already behind me.

From Rome to Asia without flying – Stepping out of darkness

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in Lifestyle, Senza categoria, travel, World

2018 was without any doubt one of the worst year ever.

I had to deal with serious health problems, and with a break-up that took a huge toll on my life.

I was miserable most of the time.

Frustrated.

Angry.

I was living in Dublin back then.

Needless to say, I felt that the impossible Irish weather was part of the problem.

At that moment, the only possible thing I could fathom for my immediate future was an escape.

That’s the reason why I quit my job first.

My manager was particularly eager to remember me that I should have kept my personal life out of my professional one.

Maturity, she was asking for that.

Be a man, Fabrizio.

She was right, I was showing my worst weaknesses.

But, I was broken.

I couldn’t help myself to be in a state of constant victimization.

My focus was completely derailed by my everyday ghosts.

I was overwhelmed by everything that was happening to me.

After quitting my job, I quit Ireland too.

I decided to go back to my hometown.

What a mistake.

The situation got worse.

Of course.

You’re 37, and you go back to live with your parents.

What do you expect to happen?

Regressing to a state of total submission to your worst enemy.

That child who’s seeking that love that he never received.

And that he will never have, unfortunately.

I couldn’t get out of the bed.

I didn’t have any motivation.

No plan, no vision.

Nothing.

I was depressed.

I was reading a lot of David Foster Wallace those days.

Every Love Story Is a Ghost Story: A Life of David Foster Wallace

That book was a source of hope and despair for me.

I finally decided to take another escape.

That was the only thing my mind could envision.

I was wired to that pattern.

I moved to Rome, where I had lived with my ex for several years before moving to Ireland.

I was looking for comfort in the past.

I rented a small studio in an area proximate to the Cristoforo Colombo road.

Changing the scenario, without changing the habits.

I was totally isolated.

No one knew what I was going through.

I didn’t seek for any help.

You could rightly ask why.

Well, I was convinced I deserved my misery all the way.

I was spending days after days without talking to anybody.

My only companions were my darkest thoughts.

I can only realize now, writing about these stuff for the first time, how sick I was back then.

I spent New Year’s Eve in that studio.

Alone.

Staring at the fireworks, thinking about jumping from that bloody balcony to put an end to the whole misery.

Yeah.

I said it.

I thought it.

As Camus said, deciding whether life is worth living is the only one really serious philosophical problem.

At that moment, it wasn’t worth for me.

I thought about my mom.

I thought about people who loved me.

I thought about people I had lost.

People that loved life.

It wasn’t about myself anymore.

I didn’t have any power in that sense.

I just couldn’t stand the fact that I would have left an immense pain behind me.

No.

I couldn’t do that to them.

That was my final answer.

2019.

We celebrated my mom birthday in February.

The four of us.

Me, my brother, both my parents.

It was a nice lunch, a peaceful family moment.

On the way back to Rome, I had, for the first time, the strange feeling of being a life survivor.

In the next weeks, I had a dream.

I will not talk about that in details, but it was about a person that I lost in my early teen.

It shook me deeply.

I came to realize that a “big escape” was probably the ultimate chance for me.

This time I should have gone as further as possible though.

The cure would have been to distance myself from everything that caused me pain.

It’s weird how the survival instinct can work sometimes.

You’re still able to make a grandiose plan while you’re stuck in the deepest whole.

That’s my way, probably.

From my gutter, I was still capable of looking at the farther stars.

My dear Oscar Wilde.

I was back to planning.

I had in mind to travel to Asia without taking any flight.

As already mentioned in this blog, the Tiziano Terzani book “A Fortune-teller Told Me” served me as a big inspiration for that trip.

The feeling of freedom was finally resurfacing.

I doubted myself, but that didn’t stop me to go all the way.

I did some bookings.

I went to Decathlon and I bought a travel backpack, comfortable shoes, clothes, some other stuff.

I never felt ready, but I didn’t care.

I had my visas for Russia, Mongolia and China, ready in May.

That was all I needed.

I went back to my hometown for a couple of days.

I told my parents that I would have been away for a while.

Working trip.

They didn’t have any idea that I had quit my job long time before.

I didn’t tell anybody about my plan.

The 7th of May 2019, at about 7pm, I got on a night train to Wien at the Termini station in Rome.

The same train I had taken with my ex years before, on a trip to celebrate the new year.

That was the beginning of a new life.

10 restaurants in Saigon, Vietnam, mercilessly reviewed by me :)

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in Food, Lifestyle, travel

Here’s a short list of restaurants that I had the chance to visit in Saigon in the last two months.

I’ll put there randomly, so don’t take this as a chart or something.

Mì Quảng 3 anh em

49 Đ. Trần Não, P. Bình An, Quận 2, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh.

In my first week in Saigon, I relied on this place only for my daily meals. It’s a family run restaurant. There’s no English here, but the Mì Quảng are delicious, especially the ones with pork ribs and quail eggs. I love this place. Yes.

Pizza 4P’s Hai Ba Trung

151b Hai Bà Trưng, Phường 6, Quận 3, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh.

Having tried and loved this local chain in Hanoi already, I had quite high expectations. I was quite disappointed, though. The carbonara was super creamy and the spaghetti overcooked. I asked for a glass of Pinot Grigio, but they had run out of it. That shouldn’t happen in a well run restaurant. No.

Tavolo dello chef

Inside the shopping area, lefthand side, Access point at the 3rd shop on the left, Hẻm 28 Thảo Điền, Thảo Điền, Quận 2, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh.

This is a truly hidden gem (this term is so overused) in Thao Dien. A place where you can almost feel the breeze of Scirocco and the spicy scent of mirth. The restaurant is run by Franco, the Sardinia’s chef, which makes sure that every dish has his approval. The spaghetti with vongole and bottarga are an absolute must. Yes.

Okra Food Bar

2 Đ. Lê Văn Miến, Thảo Điền, Quận 2, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh.

Fancy place. Modern cuisine. I went there for the oysters, but from my deep aversion, I had them served with herbs and mayo. Lemon, you don’t need anything else with oysters. Big No.

Oliu Quán

540/17 Đ. Cách Mạng Tháng 8, Phường 11, Quận 3, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh.

The lovely garden is a perfect scenario for a romantic date. The large screen that displays images of Rome is not something that I liked particularly, though. It looked fake, forced. The food was ok, nothing special. The tagliatelle were overcooked. The first thing that you should learn if you want to run a proper Italian restaurant, is the pasta’s cooking time. It has to be just perfect. Why is so difficult to understand? No.

Sushi Hokkaido Sachi

Đông Du, Bến Nghé, Quận 1, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh.

I went there for lunch on a weekday. The menu propose a great variety of sushi, which tasted super fresh. The tempura was also delicious. Quality place, no doubt about that. Yes.

Ngon Restaurant Saigon

160 Pasteur, Bến Nghé, Quận 1, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh.

I went there by mistake. My date was waiting for me in another restaurant on the same street. She finally decided to join me there. The place is quite charming and there’s a vibrant atmosphere. Great variety of food from Vietnamese and Chinese cuisine. We had a nice dinner, the banh khot were delicious, but a couple of dishes that I was willing to try were not available, unfortunately. This happens frequently in Vietnamese restaurants. I have no idea why. Neither yes nor no.

Bếp Mẹ Ỉn – Nguyễn Thái Bình

165/50 Đ. Nguyễn Thái Bình, Phường Nguyễn Thái Bình, Quận 1, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh.

I met a friend for lunch. It’s a cozy, lovely, Vietnamese restaurant that I picked because it was close to her workplace. It was an absolute delight. The veggie rolls and the Bánh xèo tasted delicious. Yes.

Rice field

77 Đ. Hồ Tùng Mậu, Bến Nghé, Quận 1, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh.

Let’s start saying that this is a Michelin selected restaurant. This should lead to very high standards. You don’t expect slow service or a table without tissues. I came here two times. First for lunch, where I got my first Ban Xeo and I had no idea that it is meant to be rolled in the rice papers. Second time for dinner, where the experience was much worse in terms of service. The menu offers a vast arrange of Vietnamese specialties. The quality is just above average in my opinion. I didn’t see anything spectacular about this place. It’s a no. Sorry Michelin.

El Camino Taqueria :: District 2

88 Xuân Thủy, Thảo Điền, Quận 2, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh.

A real taquería in the heart of Thao Dien. I had a choice of tacos that tasted delicious. Proper Mexican food, probably a bit overpriced. But, yes.

The Loop Community Bistro

49 Đ. Thảo Điền, Thảo Điền, Quận 2, Thành phố Hồ Chí Minh.

Open space with comfortable chairs. This is probably the best place in Thao Dien where you can have delicious food and put some work in. Try their signature sandwich or the tortellini with goat cheese, if you fancy some Italian. Yes.

As a footnote, I can say that I find sometimes frustrating to deal with service here. Especially in Vietnamese restaurants, unfortunately.

Efficiency, attention to details, care of the customer, are often overlooked.

That said, when the quality of food is there, you tend to forget about those things.

Hope you can find this guide helpful.

Stay tuned.

My six days in Phuket, Thailand

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, travel, World

Hey all,

I feel it’s been quite a while, don’t you think?

I was really missing writing for my blog.

But folding my laptop and detaching from work was absolutely necessary.

So, what happened in the last few weeks?

Not much really.

I took the chance to escape the omnipresent buzzing of Saigon, to fly away looking for paradisiacal landscapes.

There was also the fact that my 45 days were coming to an end before Christmas, so I had to leave Vietnam imperatively.

I decided to go to Phuket.

The reason can be pretty obvious, I suppose.

South Thailand is one of the most popular destinations in this period of the year.

And it’s a short flight from Saigon.

Less than two hours.

I decided to spend my entire week in the Patong Beach area, which was a big mistake, apparently.

Although the beach is quite spectacular, the place is packed with bars of any kind.

Nightlife can be quite unmatched, which is great if you’re twenty, but it can be a nightmare if you’re not looking for that madness in your life.

Streets congested.

Constant Honking.

Drunk people.

Loud (terrible) music.

I didn’t even bother to adventure into Bangla Walking Street.

I was terrified by the sole view of the monstrous crowd every time I passed by.

I stayed in the Kiwi Boutique Hotel, which is a decent choice if you’re not willing to spend crazy money for your days in Phuket.

As you might be aware, already, everything is overpriced during Christmas Holidays.

Also, every hotel seems to fancy naming itself “Boutique” these days.

However, this place has nothing to do with a legit boutique hotel.

Style is simply not there, let’s leave it there.

My room was spacious and clean, tough.

So nothing to complain about the place, really.

The hotel is also connected to the Cappadocia restaurant, which offers a wide range of Middle East specialties.

Absolutely worth a try, either for lunch or dinner.

Even breakfast.

Patong beach is a short distance, scarcely 10 minutes on your feet.

Honestly, I didn’t plan to do much for my stay.

I was just an ordinary tourist looking to relax this time.

I spent the first couple of days sunbathing at Patong Beach, then I decided to rent a motorbike to adventure into the island.

If you happen to be in Patong looking to rent a motorbike, don’t waste time researching for a budget rental shop, go straight to Cheap as Chips Motorbike Rental.

Great prices, vast array of bikes.

The third day I took my motorbike for a short trip to Freedom Beach.

You need to drive up to a hill on a dirt track, then you have to walk through the jungle to reach the place.

Totally worth the effort.

This is by far the best beach in Phuket in my opinion.

One of the best I’ve ever seen in my life.

You can lay down and relax as long as you want, there are beach bars that offer food and drinks at reasonable prices.

I left by dark, after crunching a roasted cob, drinking a Saigon and admiring the spectacular sunset that reverberate on the sea blanket.

I decided to hike back to my motorbike, avoiding paying for a taxi service that is offered to the visitors.

It was tough.

Don’t even try it, if you’re not in good shape, you’re not going to make it.

The day after, the weather wasn’t looking great.

I didn’t care about the big dark clouds above my head and I went to see the big Buddha.

The statue is magnificent, and the view of the Kata beach gulf is great from up the mountain.

I particularly liked the banners that surround the statue, showing great personalities of western culture that converted to Buddhism at some point in their life.

Einstein.

Orson Wells.

Roberto Baggio.

Aldous Huxley.

Tina Turner.

Richard Gere.

Many others that I can’t remember, unfortunately.

From there I adventured a bit further to the south, until the rain caught me while I was driving to Kata beach.

I was able to find shelter in the parking lot of a residence.

It started raining really hard at that point.

It was Christmas Day.

Loneliness kicked in.

I took the chance to text some friends.

I waited there for about an hour, until the sky cleared.

Then I kept driving Southside, until I reached the Windmill Viewpoint.

Although the dark, cloudy sky and the few drops of rain that were bothering the moment, I really enjoyed the panorama.

The view of on the Andaman bay and on the ํYanui beach is great.

It would have been superb for sunset time, I thought at that moment.

I was regretting a bit to not have come later in the day.

It was still 4pm, I couldn’t have waited for three hours there, without basically doing nothing.

Driving back to the hotel, I stopped at the Karon Viewpoint, overlooking the Karon bay, as the name suggest.

I didn’t find it particularly moving, to be honest.

The view is obstructed by pines and palms, and Karon beach looks far removed from there.

I still had time for a nice treat before finally heading back.

I casually found the Soul Vegan Café and Restaurant passing by Karon Beach, and it was a lovely surprise.

I had gluten-free pancakes and a Matcha latte.

Nothing like the sweet treats I would have gotten from my mom for Christmas, but it was good enough.

Back to the hotel, I fell asleep watching Bosh Legacy, season 2.

I woke up in the middle of the night, desperately hungry.

I went out to the 7-Eleven around the corner to buy a bag of chips and a Chang.

Back to my room, I booked the trip to Phi Phi Islands through Booking.com, the platform that I mostly use for stays and activities.

I was up at 7 am.

I just had time to drink a protein shake, before I found myself on a van with a group of strangers.

Only couples, but me.

Lovely.

I stretched my rear seat and tried to sleep on it.

I was woken up by an abrupt brake.

At that point, my only thought was to have my morning coffee as soon as possible.

Luckily, once we arrived at the pier, a lovely buffet was waiting for us.

Bread, butter, jams, fruits, coffee.

We had to leave our names on a piece of paper, and meet our guide, Party, before we could have breakfast.

Yeah, that was his name, at least he said it was.

It should have been a warning for what would have happened next.

He told us the plan of the day, then we all ended up with a pink bracelet on our wrist.

We sailed from the pier a half hour later on a high-speed boat.

I don’t know if it’s an experience you’ve ever had in your life, but it’s not the most comfortable one.

It feels pretty bumpy in that thing.

The last thing I wanted, at that moment, was having super loud music fired from a booster in close proximity.

Even worse, when each song is interrupted and suddenly reshot at maximum volume.

Well, Party was a terrible DJ, that has to be said.

I hated him with my gut at that moment.

The first stop was in Phi Phi Don, the main island of the Ko Phi Phi archipelago.

The small lagoon was packed with touristic boats coming and going, but fortunately we had the chance to jump in the spectacular emerald green water for a little swim.

The next step was Maya Bay, on the island of Phi Phi Lee.

This is definitely the highlight of the tour.

One of the most spectacular place on earth, without any doubt.

You need to patiently queue among other touristic group to reach the place.

At the end, the view of the bay, with its turquoise water surrounded by the magnificent cliffs, will definitely give you paradise vibes.

For my surprise, I discovered that It was prohibited to bathe in the bay water.

Unfortunately, not all of us are Leonardo DiCaprio.

Remember The Beach (2000) ?

After a quick stop at the Monkey Beach (nothing special about it, I didn’t even bother to get off the boat), we headed for lunch to a different island.

There you can find café, restaurants, atm’s, toilets.

I had a Massaman Curry and some fried chicken, with the idea that I wouldn’t touch the water for a while.

I was wrong, because the next activity, announced by Party, was half an hour snorkeling in the deep and cold water of the Phi Phi Islands.

That is the moment I had to throw away one of the golden rules that have marked my life.

My mother’s lesson about waiting for at least two hours before jumping into the sea with a full stomach.

The crisis kicked in, I won’t deny it.

I went checking on Google, where luckily I found some comforting info.

Apparently, this is just a myth, as cold water has nothing to do with what is in your stomach.

I feel it is not necessary to go into details here about this matter.

You just need to know that I did it finally, I dealt with my ancestral fears and I jumped into the cold water of Phi Phi.

I am still alive, apparently.

The snorkeling was ok, nothing memorable though.

The last stop was in the Khai Island, that we reached after about half hour boat trip.

The beach was packed, so I decided to take a mask and go snorkeling among the rocks.

It was nice and peaceful.

Back to the boat, I told Party about the music.

I didn’t want to spend the final trip back to the pier in complete outrage.

He gently apologized and respected my request.

I was back at the hotel after 8 pm.

I spent my last day in Phuket at Kata beach, a place that had become a mirage during these days.

Every time I tried to reach it through the only possible road, a police check point stood in the way.

I incredibly managed to avoid them, once literally slaloming the agents trying to stop me at all cost.

Ending up paying a fine (or bribe) because I don’t own an international driving license, wasn’t in my plans.

Sorry.

So, this is how I spent my six days in Phuket, I hope this article will serve as an inspiration for your ideal stay on the beautiful island.

Here is a short list of cafés, restaurants and massage SPA in the Patong area that I didn’t mention in my article, but I had the chance to try:

Nicky’s Handlebar (great choice for breakfast).

Light of India (not the best Indian I had in my life, but defintely worth a try if you’re staying in the area).

The Vista Restaurant & Pizzeria (a proper italian restaurant which is not something to be taken for granted).

Burasari SPA (I found it incredibly overpriced for the quality of the massage I received).

Living in Ho Chi Minh City

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Food, Lifestyle, travel, workspace, World

This is intended to be an account of my first month in this complicated yet fascinating city.

Using the most classic of clichés, I can say that time has flown by.

I had initially planned to stop by in Ho Chi Minh for the sole purpose of doing a visa run.

The Cambodian border is just a couple of hours drive away.

The fastest and most convenient way to do a visa run from HCMc is to reach Phnom Penh by bus and travel back the day after.

It will cost you about 100 dollars (bust tickets and Cambodian visa), plus the cost of your stay in Phnom Penh.

You might consider the SIM Boutique Hotel for your staying in the Cambodian capital.

A night there is going to cost you about $30.

Breakfast (a good one), is included.

The rooms are modern and spacious.

There’s also a sky bar with a nice pool and a great view of the city.

I had been there in my previous travel to Cambodia, and I was quite happy about it.

However, having to work this time, I realized how bad is their Wi-Fi connection, unfortunately.

Back to Saigon, I stayed for a few nights in the Jan Hostel Central Point.

It’s a small hotel right in the heart of District 1.

They also offer a nice breakfast.

The place is miraculously quiet, considering the super central position.

It’s a great choice if you want to live the hustle of Phạm Ngũ Lão.

Many do.

Not for me, though.

I’d rather go for a quieter area.

That’s the reason why I decided to move to District 2.

Most of the expats here live between Districts 2, 4 and 7, which are considered the most liveable areas if you are not willing to be too remote.

I finally got an apartment in Bình An, which is a nice neighborhood that stands south of the Hanoi Highway.

The place is called Cherry Homestay, and it provides a series of studios furnished with kitchen.

Around the corner there is a popular Highlands Coffe where you can work until late, any day of the week.

The place gets easily crowded, and you might struggle to find a table sometimes.

There’s also a small Vietnamese restaurant, Mì Quảng 3 anh em, that serves delicious Mì Quảng.

My favorites are the ones with pork ribs and quail eggs.

Be prepared to use Google Translate because there’s no English menu and the lovely family that run the place don’t speak any, of course.

I left Bình An after a couple of weeks, to move north of the Hanoi Highway, in the area called Thao Dien.

I needed a bigger apartment at that point, but fortunately I had already found my habitual spots.

The Sports gym BCA and the WorkFlow Café, above all.

The Sports gym BCA is a modern and well-equipped gym with reasonable prices.

100k VND for a day pass and 1mln VND for a monthly one.

You are going to struggle to find a better value for money not only in this area but in the whole city.

The WorkFlow Café is instead a coworking space located in the heart of Thao Dien.

The concept, which was explained to me by Daniele, the Café manager that has quickly become a dear friend of mine, is to have a working space that serves great coffee.

The guy knows what is talking about, as he has been in the coffee business forever.

He’s also a popular figure on TikTok, where he shares video of him going around trying to guess coffee blends.

He really went places since he came to Vietnam 4 years ago, when he started his business from ground up, after leaving his job in a coffee roaster shop in Rome.

The place where I finally decided to live it is actually a neighborhood called Khu Phố, an extension of Thao Dien towards North East.

After booking a couple of weeks at the GEM Services Apartment’ Oanh, I’ve made my decision to call it home.

I negotiated a reasonable monthly price with Gem, the landlady.

She’s a real piece of work, but I gave her a good run for her money.

I can be a tough one to deal with.

My life revolves around Thao Dien now, which is the most western neighborhood of the city.

I drive to the gym in the morning, at least three times a week.

When I am not at the gym, and when I am not getting up too late, I go to Starbucks The Vista to write for this blog.

I get my lunch, whatever it happens to be.

Rarely at home.

It can be a chicken curry at the Vin’s pinoy cafe in my neighborhood or spaghetti alle vongole at The Workflow Café in District 3 with Daniele.

Most often I get a rich bowls of rice with chicken at The Tangerine, a place run by Elia, a funny Tuscan.

It can also happen to have some exquisite Vietnamese noodles with Jerry, the barista of the Workflow Café.

I usually stay at the Workflow until closure, which happens at 9.

Then I’ll go home to continue my work, usually until midnight.

When it finally comes the weekend …

Well …

We might leave that for a dedicated article to talk about activities, out-of-town trips, sightseeing, places for a nice dinner, etc.

In general, I try to avoid as much as possible to move around the city in the rush hour, but it might happen to go to the most central districts for a drink, dinner or simply a movie.

It’s pure madness.

I had never seen a traffic jam with hundreds of motorbikes in my life.

It’s become a regular thing here.

Life in Ho Chi Minh can be weird sometimes, but with the chaos comes a vibrant and magnetic energy that makes everything so alive.

This city is bustling with life.

It might have a lot to do with its terrible past, and the strong desire for redemption of the new generations.

It’s fascinating to see it, to live it.

To conclude, I don’t know about my long term plan, I don’t have any idea about the future, but I feel I am finally in the right place at the right time in my life.

Saigon

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, Senza categoria, travel, World

When I arrived in Saigon a month ago, I wasn’t planning to stay for long.

My visa stamp was about to expire, and the idea was to travel South of Thailand for a beach break.

I was already dreaming about drinking coconut on a paradisiacal beach, looking at the magical color of the sea surface in disbelief.

Accomplishing what is to consider the cheap fantasy of any tourist.

I was about to immerse myself in that, in the glossy world of heavenly pictures that make people who really believe in that dream die of envy.

That glossy world is called Instagram.

We all know that, of course.

But, the truth is that I never believed in that story.

It’s not mine.

It has never been.

It’s flat, boring, uninspiring.

And, there was something else that was going on deep inside.

In my first day in Saigon I wrote two articles for this blog.

The first was about the cost of living in Nha Trang, the city that I was coming from.

The second, is to consider in my opinion the best article I wrote here so far.

What it really means to be a digital nomad, is a candid account of my life as a digital nomad, with all the lights and shadows that come from that.

After months of traveling, I was feeling empty and lonely.

Reviving the nomadic dream, with the paradise island illusion, would certainly not have solved that void.

In all honesty, there was also the fact that I had left behind someone that made me feel better after a long time.

It wasn’t love but a strong feeling, nonetheless.

In any case, I was aware that there was no future in that story, so I was feeling bad because of that too.

There’s no real reason why I chose Saigon, at the end.

For all my life, this city has had nothing but symbolic, cinematic value.

Everything revolved around the idea I always had about the Vietnam War.

An idea that was then shattered after visiting the War Remnants Museum here is Saigon.

Something that anyone should do when visiting this city.

This is not the place where I ever thought of living.

Immense, chaotic, impossible.

The sole experience of moving at rush hour, in the frenzy of thousands of motorcycles clogging the streets, is surreal, adrenalinic, scary.

It’s so crazy to even think about it, really.

Yet my life here has taken an unexpected, pleasant turn.

The city is young and vibrant.

You can feel it in your veins.

I didn’t find it difficult to build a social life in a short span of time.

I felt less and less lonely, day after day.

After so many hotel rooms, I finally decided to take a place that I can somehow consider home, in a nice area called Thao Dien.

I found my habitual spots.

I am going to talk about them in a dedicated article.

I also found my habitual people here.

Everything looks weird, but like I said, nice.

I was supposed to go back to Italy, but I didn’t finally.

There’s something that keeps me here, something that I am yet to find out.

Something that holds strong.

Living in the West vs living in Asia. Part 4

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in economy, travel, Lifestyle, travel, workspace, World

We have stretched this analysis in order to touch several interesting points in the previous articles.

Political, economical, social, biological, educational, etc.

I realized that the more I went on, the more I wanted to talk about those things.

I also realized that my western bias was shifting towards the point of view of a western repentant.

Distance is key.

It puts everything from a different perspective.

I am living in South East Asia now, and honestly I don’t miss the western world.

But, as I previously stated, I am a newbie in the Eastern Globe way of living.

It’s like I am reporting stuff as they happen under my eyes for the first time.

That is something that has to be taken into account, I guess.

We can go back to where we left now.

Smartphones and social media have had an impact not yet estimated in people life around the globe.

Especially on mental health.

The studies I was mentioning in part 3 were conducted by a team of social psychologists leaded by Jonathan Heidth, an increasingly popular figure in the western culture.

What was their discovery, then?

Firstly, social media seems to be negatively impacting young girls more than boys, especially in western progressive democracies, as we previously said.

Why is that?

There was an important shift caused by the transformation of social media into social platform that happened around 2010.

Social media were meant to be networking tools used by the young and adult population to boost social life.

We all remember the excitement of connecting to so many people when we created our first Facebook account.

Well, that was a different era.

February 9, 2009.

Facebook introduces the thumb up.

October 6, 2010

Instagram is launched for IOS platform by Kevin Systrom and Mike Kriege.

Social media are changing their skin.

It’s not about connecting people anymore.

It’s about performing on an online stage, with an invisible audience that is there to cheer, ignore or just crush you.

The game is different now.

Instagram has introduced a new reality based on manipulated appearances.

You can have your filters, ladies and gentlemen.

The life of everyone looks great on those ultra glossy pictures.

Girls look as beautiful as ever.

And we all know that girls are judged on their appearance more than men.

We also know how fragile can be an adolescent mind.

How desperately they are seeking for attention, acceptance, inclusion.

Is it really that difficult to assess how devastating an online platform, based on a perverse mechanism of likes, can be to a fourteen years old?

Do you really want your little girl catapulted on a fictional global stage at the mercy of unreachable canons of beauty, or potentially catastrophic verbal abuses?

Same for boys, of course.

But, it looks like girls are suffering more here.

Should we ignore that?

Should we also ignore the fact that progressive democracies often translate into “here your smartphone my ten years old”?

Progressive parents wouldn’t like their children to be socially excluded because they can’t have a TikTok account, right?

This is a real problem for them.

For millions of parents, probably.

Back to our argument now.

Is the impact of social platform as devastating in the Eastern Globe, as apparently it is in the Western?

Addressing this crucial question will be the final contribution to the analysis.

It is impossible to delineate a consistent landscape in terms of smartphone usage rules in the western and eastern schools around the world.

There’s rarely a top-down approach in relation to such a topic.

Depending on the specific bureaucratic structure, it is something that can often be decided at the school level, or district/county level.

It is, hence, impossible to have that granularity of details.

However, we can still pull some interesting data coming from the United States, obviously a major landmark country.

The National Center for Education Statistics reported that 91% of schools in the USA prohibited non-academic use of cell phones during the 2009-10 school year, but that dipped to 66% in 2015-16 and then rose back to 77% by 2019-20.

Also, 95% of U.S. students bring their phones to class every day, 92% use them to text in class, and 10% admitted to having texted during an exam.

Finally, a study conducted by Common Sense Media in the USA, found students were most likely to turn to social media (32%), YouTube (26%) and gaming (17%) on their cell phones during the school day.

I didn’t find similar studies for eastern schools, unfortunately.

However, it looks like the most influential countries in the eastern globe, like China, Japan, Korea or Singapore, are all moving the in the direction of banning cellphone usage in the classroom.

I think that it wouldn’t be completely wrong to state that eastern countries are once again tackling a modern problem with a more conservative approach, bearing in mind the risk of a mental health decline in the young population.

As previously said, it’s impossible to fully evaluate the impact of the latest Technological revolution around the world, but it will be difficult to deny that in the eastern globe has been as strong as in the western one.

The only difference might be that the educational and cultural system seem to be acting as a barrier to individualism and solipsism, much better in the East than in the West.

This is, of course, a point of view that should be validated with some real data.

There is also the risk that smartphones and social media might flatten cultural differences into an empty and banal conformism.

In this sense, traditions, schools, and families play a fundamental role.

As already stated, it is all to be confirmed If Asia is doing a better job than the West on that part.

In conclusion, we can say that East and West appear to us today much less distant than before, as in a process of constant homologation.

Living in the West vs living in Asia. Part 3

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in Lifestyle, travel, World

In the past two articles, I have focused my attention on the social, political, philosophical, even biological aspects that differentiate life (and people) in the opposite parts of the globe.

We have determined that an individualistic and specialized approach, against a holistic and balanced life view, represents one of the main differences between the Western and Eastern mindset.

It’s time to discuss the impact this difference has on everyday life.

I want to start by sharing an episode that occurred while I was living in Bali a few years ago.

I was at a crossroads on a busy street in the Kerobokan area, not too far from the big penitentiary.

While I was waiting at the traffic light for the red to turn green, I witnessed an accident between a car and a motorbike.

On this occasion, the car driver, who was obviously responsible, ran a red light and cut off the road for the motorbike driver.

The elderly person driving the scooter had to make a hard braking, which ended up causing him to fall to the ground.

Fortunately, the fall was not too severe and only caused bleeding in the hand that hit the ground.

My reaction was one of outrage towards the driver, to whom I also addressed some nasty Italian expressions.

To my surprise, however, the elderly person who was driving the motorbike, had stood up from the ground, examining his bloody hand without any sign of fear, anger or anxiety, and then getting back on the road as if nothing had happened.

I was honestly shocked by that.

I had been living in Bali for a few months and I had already traveled to several Asian countries at that point, but only then did I realize the existence of that profound difference between “them” and “us”.

Despite Bali might be considered an exception, especially in Indonesian religious landscape, fatalism is a feature that is transversal in Asian thinking.

You can traverse the ultra-busy streets of any Asian megalopolis, from Shanghai to Bangkok, without witnessing the scenes of frustration typical of the way we deal with traffic in the West.

Normally, in big cities everyone runs, and there are also cities in Asia where the noise of horns can be overwhelming, but the impression is that, despite the chaos, there is never an abusive approach on the road.

The most remarkable thing is that all transpires in a scenario where the driving rules are particularly loose.

It is a paradox typical of Asia, in which metropolitan chaos is balanced by an inner calm of people that we can only look in admiration in the West.

It’s pretty obvious this has to do with everything we’ve said so far about Asian culture.

That’s the reason why I chose to pick that episode.

Because I believe it is emblematic of something much deeper that differentiates the East from the West.

Here’s another example of how people in Asia deal with their daily problems, and that can also be relevant to this analysis.

Over the past two months, I have traveled from north to south in Vietnam and had the chance to converse with numerous people.

Insurance agents, receptionists, salesgirls, bartenders, etc.

They all have something in common: they work hard and are paid poorly, at least for the Western standard.

They work ten hours a day on average, including weekends.

They often have only one day off per week, or a couple in a whole month.

Some of them are students who live in big cities like Ho Chi Minh, for example, and who need to work full-time to support themselves.

Their monthly pay is usually below $300.

That is the price to pay for a growing economy like Vietnam.

More details in my post Why foreign investment in Vietnam is booming.

These guys often have to sacrifice their private lives, relationships, studies, artistic aspirations, in order to lead what is supposed to be an independent, adult life.

What happens in Vietnam can be projected to Korea, China, or Japan, although with a much higher standard of living.

There is yet another factor that connects the stories of these young people.

The most relevant, perhaps.

No matter how much frustration they might harbor inside, I’ve never heard any of them blaming their own country or expressing that anti-system anger that we often see in the youth of the West.

I talked to 20-year-old boys who showed rather rare wisdom for peers from across the globe.

I was rather impressed by that.

Their conservative educational system is probably doing a better job than ours in achieving a stable society.

But, on the other side, it’s important to remember that change is sometimes necessary.

That’s why we need open, free minds.

We are back to the starting point: individualism versus communitarianism.

After all, much of the difference between East and West can be traced to the same source, I suppose.

So, here’s another important point worth of discussion.

It concerns the technological revolution and its impact on people in their daily life.

Recent studies, conducted by the psychologist Jonathan Haidt, have addressed that.

What has come to light is an epochal psychological shift, which happened about ten years ago and has affected mostly the Anglo-Saxon countries.

The most advanced progressive democracies in the world.

I feel that this subject deserves its own chapter though.

Bear with me, fellas.

Part 4 is coming, unexpectedly.

Living in the West vs living in Asia. Part 2

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, World

In the first part of this investigation, I threw some stats in the mix with the intent of creating a reliable context for the discussion.

I thought that it would have been appropriate in order to avoid a pure opinion based article.

I didn’t shy away from making some “controversial” statements, though, especially on immigration policies.

I feel that in the West, there’s too much do-goodism and virtue signaling on the left side, which is doing more harm than anything.

This has been a long-standing problem for lefty politicians and intellectuals.

I hereby focused on the cultural and political aspects of the comparison between the West and the East, leaving aside the more practical aspects.

In doing that, I realized that I used a top-down approach, which can be quite uncommon for this kind of in depth analysis.

Regardless, I think that it has fitted well for the point I am trying to make.

And that it’s important to remember that we shouldn’t take our alleged superiority in the West for granted.

Because it’s not a real thing.

I ended the previous article, hinting to the predominant individualism in the West as opposed to the communitarian sentiment still present in the eastern culture.

There’s an intriguing angle to consider when approaching this fundamental topic.

The one I would call it a “perception gap”.

What does it really mean?

I read this book recently about the ever-changing aspect of our brain.

The Brain That Changes Itslef, by Norman Doidge.

It’s one of the most important book published in the last twenty years, without any doubt.

It details some of the most incredible cases of recovery from mental pathologies, traumas, malformations, injuries, ever happened.

At the core of all of these stories, there’s the belief that the brain is a living thing that can constantly learn and adapt.

That same belief has become a conviction in the past years, as the numerous case studies have demonstrated that our brain can heal itself through specific exercises and therapies.

One of the studied cited in the book was about demonstrating the difference in perception between western and eastern people.

The assumption is that the way our brain is modeled through the culture, can change our sense of reality.

To demonstrate that, several pictures were showed to people from the West and from the other part of the globe.

The results were quite interesting.

When they showed them a seabed with some fish, for example, western people focused on the fish solely, while eastern people focused on the entire environment without even noticing the fish.

This was an important clue about how the western brain operates in a specialized way, while the eastern one is more attracted by the context.

Which leads us to a somewhat amusing paradox.

The right hemisphere of our brain excels at more holistic and coarse processing of information, whereas the left excels at more analytic and fine-grained processing of information.

So, there is a certain dominance of the left hemisphere in the way of life of the West, while the opposite happens in the East.

At the base of our individualist approach in the West, there might be a “lefty bias”.

This type of processing was shaped by our millinery tradition.

At the same time, the communitarian ethos of eastern culture shaped the “righty bias” of its people.

That is a holistic perception of everything.

That’s incredibly fascinating, isn’t it?

Both approach have their pros and cons, of course.

Individualism is bad when it comes to build a healthy community, but it is absolutely necessary to the artistic expression.

You don’t want musicians to play the piano in the same way.

You don’t want a society where everyone is interested only in their own cut, either.

In general, the eastern approach might favorite a more balanced path towards life, and that’s the reason why it has infiltrated the western culture so successfully in recent years.

How many times you hear the word “holistic” nowadays?

On the other side, the obsession in pursuing a goal is something that is really characteristic of the western way of life.

The technological revolution in act was made possible by a man that was almost pathological in that regard.

The East could not have made a Steve Jobs.

Individual success is celebrated in the West to a level that can be regarded as a sin in the East.

In fact, the West could not have made Confucius and his doctrine based on respecting the other.

In conclusion, at the base of this difference there might be a fundamental, biological aspect.

The fact that eastern brain and Western brain use alternative engines of perception.

There’s no winner here, instead what can be an interesting pathway for integration.

Maybe.

Now that we have a theoretical foundation that is fairly articulated, we can focus more on the practical aspects of life that differentiate the Western and the Eastern globe.

Part three is coming, fellas.

Living in the West vs living in Asia. Part 1

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in Lifestyle, World

The West and Asia are a broad generalization that should only serve the purpose here.

We are talking in a more philosophical sense than a geographical one.

There would be too many cultural differences to take into account.

It would be simply impossible to go into that level of details.

I spent most of my life living in Europe.

Italy, France, Ireland, Spain.

Mostly Italy, as I was born there, and I lived there for more than thirty years.

I lived in Asia for a couple of years only.

I feel definitely more entitled to talk about western life.

There’s no doubt about that.

I am going to talk about life in Asia on the perspective of a pure, interested beginner.

Data will come in handy to give a reliable context to the philosophical debate.

Let’s get one point out of the way, first.

The West is wealthier and more powerful.

That’s the hypothesis on which most of you will probably agree.

Among the 10th wealthier countries in the world, six of them are in the West.

Europe plays a huge factor here, with four countries present in the ranking.

Germany, UK, France, Italy.

The hegemonic dominance of the USA, the wealthier country in the world, is still undisputed.

The other big player, China, is quite far, even though it has been increasingly reducing the gap in the last two decades.

Japan, India and Korea are the other Asian economies in the top ten world.

Korea (10th) will probably surpass Italy (9th) in the coming years.

I have no hope that Italy will be able to keep the top ten ranking in the future years.

There are so many negative factors that come into play there.

One is the working age population, for instance.

It has been irreversibly declining in the last decade.

That is not going to make the economy stronger, especially for a country that is so messy on immigration policies.

We don’t have any clue about attracting skilled manpower.

When we talk about “power”, we refer to military influence.

Wealth and military power are of course interconnected.

It is highly unlikely that any given country has the one without the other.

The exception is Russia, which is the second military power behind the USA, but it only ranks 18th among the wealthiest countries on earth.

It’s a matter of uniqueness and policies in place in that specific situation.

For the rest, nine of the ten most powerful countries in the world by military strength are also among the tenth wealthiest.

Apart from Russia, the other difference is represented by Pakistan, which is an atomic power, unlike Canada, the 8th wealthiest country in the world.

In the end, I wouldn’t say that the difference between Asia and the West is particularly striking in this regard.

China, India and South Korea have done a huge jump both on the economic and military influence in recent years.

The USA is not that untouchable power that it used to be twenty, thirty years ago.

At least, on the economic front.

What about safety, then? Do wealth and military power translate to more safety in the West and less in Asia?

According to the Geneva Academy, there are 22 armed conflicts currently going on among Europe, Middle East, and Latin America.

We are excluding North Africa, which, along with the Middle East, ranks first as the region with most armed conflict in the world.

Forty-five, a striking figure.

On the other part, the number of armed conflicts in Asia today accounts to 21.

If we were to compare the wealthiest countries in terms of safe index, we would rank, South Korea, Japan, China and India in the top 4th.

That’s quite relevant, I suppose.

There’s another important aspect to consider.

The safest region in the world is Northern Europe, with a homicide rate of 0.8 incidents per 100,000 inhabitants.

The second-safest region among the top 25 safest countries is Asia, with a homicide rate of 3 or fewer per 100,000 inhabitants.

It wouldn’t be wrong drawing the conclusion that living in Asia is generally safer than living in the West.

Having lived in huge cities in Asia, I can say that you don’t perceive there the same sense of insecurity you feel in great Western metropolises.

Immigration plays an important role in this aspect, even though it is not the sole one, of course.

There’s basically none in most Asiatic countries, especially if we talk about unskilled population that could end up being confined in the suburban areas.

That’s instead a big problem in most of the big western cities, particularly in Europe.

You probably heard of the riots in the Parisian suburbs or the attacks in Belgium.

Or, at a less serious level, of the pickpocketing in the Rome or Athens subway.

A reminder for discussing another crucial aspect, which is politics.

The woke ideology has become so relevant in the western culture.

It has its origins in the academic environment in the USA, but in recent years has spread everywhere in the West.

Wokism is used as a broad term to include different aspects of today debate, as identity politics, social justice, white privilege, LGBTQ rights, sexism, etc.

Social media has become the megaphone of that ideology, embraced not only by the big technology corporations and legacy media, but also by many pseudo-progressive governments.

The result is a dystopian world in which information has become predominantly propaganda that has led to a strong polarization and radicalization of the debate.

Among the most extreme examples are the management of the COVID vaccine discussion and the recent war in Ukraine.

Censorship has quickly become the main weapon of all the actors mentioned earlier.

Although there are many and complex reasons, it appears that the Western tradition has been infected by a virus.

No sign of the same virus has been found in Asia, where cultural traditions are still stronger than ever.

We can refer to Buddhism, Hinduism, Confucianism, or other religions, but it doesn’t look like there’s any immediate desire to get rid of them.

It seems that in the Eastern culture, survives a form of wisdom and common sense that still guide everyday life.

There is also the ability to have security policies in place without being attacked by the social justice warriors.

Take a look at what is happening in numerous US cities that are completely out of control on different aspect, like crime rate or loitering.

S. Francisco

Los Angeles

Detroit

Cleveland.

Many more, unfortunately.

We can talk all day about how beautiful is multiculturalism, but I don’t see a place where it is actually working as it was supposed to be.

UK?

France?

USA?

Millions of people are uprooted because of war and end up marginalized in the destination countries.

I wouldn’t exactly call it multiculturalism.

I would call it forced immigration, and the victims are of course people that are removed from their ethnic culture.

I don’t see this happening in Asia, where cities of millions of people are rarely shaken by this type of cultural tension.

It is undeniable that ethnic homogeneity plays a role in all this.

Just to be clear, if whatever journalist or intellectual, had made such a reflection in a newspaper or social media in the West, he would be immediately accused of being a Nazi.

He’d have to apologize the next day, but probably wouldn’t save him from being fired.

This is the level of madness that the West has reached nowadays.

Sometimes I think about the fact that living in the West makes me feel trapped in a postmodernist novel.

I mean, I love postmodern literature but …

Living in Asia makes me go back twenty years instead, at least from a purely cultural point of view.

It is not necessarily a backward step, on the contrary, I feel that real progress has nothing to do with the technological revolution in act.

So, here is the other important point of discussion.

Individualism in the West opposed to the sense of community in Asia.

Will talk about that in the second part.

From Bangkok to Ho Chi Minh (a bus travel)

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

I flew to Thailand in the middle of August after postponing my trip due to personal reasons.

When I landed in Bangkok, in the late evening, I was relieved.

My new adventure could finally begin.

It didn’t start well, though.

The plan of a long stay in South East Asia, forced me to travel a bit heavier than I would have liked.

In consequence, I had programmed to drop the suitcase I was carrying at the airport so that I could go on backpacking.

I had already booked a luggage storage a few days earlier.

It seemed a wise thing to do.

I just had to follow the indications they sent me via email to find their office and check in the baggage.

Instead, my struggle with Google Maps in South East Asia started at that moment.

The place, Radical Storage, is supposed to be located here according to the email I got from them.

In the middle of nowhere basically.

When I asked people about that location, I got a different answer each time.

This is also typical when asking for indications in South East Asia.

After an hour of pure frustration, I finally got the right tip from a tourist info counter.

The place was located on the third floor.

Terminal 1.

I realized that I had been practically circling around it for the entire time.

The place is actually called Bellugg Luggage Delivery, and you can find here all the info about their office at the Bangkok airport.

I finally checked in the big suitcase.

It felt liberating.

I spent four days in Bangkok, which is a reasonable amount of time to visit all the main attractions.

Grand Palace, Wat Pho, Wat Arun, Canal tour, Golden Mount Temple, Khao San, Chinatown, Talad Noi, and more.

Unfortunately, I missed the Chatuchak Market as this happens to be on the weekend only.

I then booked a bus to Siem Riep, Cambodia.

Flying there would have been the fastest option, but the idea was of a slow travelling.

There are several bus services running from Bangkok to Siem Reap.

The company I picked is Giant Ibis, which offers one of the best bus services all around Indochina.

It’s a long trip, but their buses are quite modern and comfortable.

They also offer a service to process the Cambodian visa at the border.

It will cost you $40 in cash.

A guide will take care of everything.

No hustle attached.

We stopped several times along the way.

We had lunch on the bus after passing the Cambodian border.

This was offered by the company.

At that point, we had to switch bus due to the fact that another Giant Ibis bus that was doing the opposite route, had broken down.

We got an 8 places van, which was a little less comfortable but surely faster.

It turned out to be a gain, as Cambodian roads are quite terrible.

We arrived in Siem Riep before 5 pm.

I got a tuk tuk sent me by the hotel to pick me up at the bus station.

I stayed there three days.

It was enough to visit Angkor temple and the Kampong floating village.

The amount of time you spend there ultimately depends on how much time you want to dedicate visiting the Angkor archeological site.

It can be a day (for the main temples only) or a full week (if you want to go full Indiana Jones about it).

I took another bus to reach Phnom Penh, the Cambodian capital.

At this point, Giant Ibis had already become my first choice.

I took the first bus, the one that leaves at 8:45am.

There was no border crossing this time, so the trip was very smooth.

We arrived in Phnom Penh in the early afternoon.

I had planned to spend my usual three days there too.

Visiting the Killing Fields, the Tuol Sleng museum, and learning about the Cambodian genocide in great details, was a disturbing but awakening experience.

There was a lot to reflect upon.

Before leaving, I had a lovely sunset time boat trip on the Mekong River.

I wanted to avoid reducing the whole experience to the atrocities I had learned about in the past days.

The next morning I was in the Giant Ibis office.

Again.

This was a complicated one as I had already been feeling unwell from the day before.

When we arrived, I had filled a bag with snotty tissues.

The first night in Ho Chi Minh was terrible.

I went to an Indian restaurant in Pham Ngu Lao, but I couldn’t manage to eat anything.

The manager was evidently disappointed, as he believed I didn’t like the food.

I had got high fever at that point.

I got paracetamol and I tried to sleep on it.

Fortunately, the day after, I got much better.

I enjoyed my stay in Ho Chi Minh, although, with some regret, I was unable to visit the war museum due to the strong air conditioning.

In the end, crossing Indochina by bus was a much smoother experience than I thought.

If you don’t mind wasting a few more hours along the way, the bus allows you to appreciate the landscape changes from country to country, which gives you a real, tangible dimension to your travelling.

It also allows you to make friends on the road, something that rarely happens on a plane.

From what I have experienced, people who travel by bus are generally more open to the chance of making new acquaintances.

To conclude, I really hope this article may have sparked your interest in embarking on this trip.

P.S.

I don’t particularly like flying and, like Sheldon Cooper, I am a big fan of trains, but I consider buses equally fascinating.

I tend to be quite traditional in that respect.

Not to say “ancient”

🙂

Why Chiang Mai is the ideal place for digital nomads

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, workspace, World

I arrived in Chiang Mai at the beginning of September, after spending a couple of weeks of intense traveling in Indochina.

I needed a place to settle in for a bit.

Recharge the batteries.

I initially stayed in a homestay on the west side of the river.

The place is called Chirin Home and if you are traveling on a budget, I would definitely recommend it.

I mostly worked from my room during that week, as the Wi-Fi connection was good enough not to cause any issue during my meetings.

I particularly liked the tiny but nice pool situates beside the lobby, where I chilled out during my work breaks.

I then moved to a different homestay after a couple of weeks.

This guesthouse is called Like a local house & café and is located in the Nimman Neighborhood.

It is housed within the Hillside Plaza shopping mall and condo.

It hosts a café with a sweet girl that can make a proper cappuccino.

There’s also a kitchen at your full disposal in the basement.

The room where I was staying, the one that overlooks the swimming pool, is simply superb.

Em and Nim, the owners, are a lovely couple always present to support you for any necessity you might have.

I can’t recommend this place enough.

Nimman district is one of the best area of Chiang Mai, and it has become the favorite for digital nomads.

The place where I was going every day for work is located at walking distance from Hillplaza.

The name is Yellow Coworking and is one of the best working space you can find in all South East Asia.

I had an amazing time working there.

The vibe is unmatchable.

You will be part of a vibrant community.

Video makers, social influencers, copywriters, website designers.

I was inspired by the people I got to meet there.

I had already the idea of starting a blog, but I was always doubtful about it.

I definitely got the final push watching all those people just doing things I wouldn’t do for the fear of failure.

There are plenty of cafés and restaurants in the Nimman district.

I was a regular at Healthy Junk.

I usually walked there during my lunch break.

The place is literally around the corner from Yellow Coworking.

They got all kind of salads and other delicious food.

My favorite were the Greek chicken salad and the curry with rice (the manager made sure that it wasn’t too spicy, with only half a spoon of curry).

I also had my best Americano ever in Nimann.

On the same alley that conducts to Healthy Junk, there’s a café called Diciotto SlowBar Coffee.

The place is truly a hidden gem.

I walked on that street, I don’t know how many times, and I never noticed it.

I was brought there by Mattia, a guy that I met at the coworking.

We had an interesting conversation that day, in front of our smoking coffee.

We talked about writing, and copywriting.

Mattia told me his story.

He decided no to go to University to pursue his copywriting career that he had started a few months earlier.

He came to Chiang Mai to work on his social media presence, building his brand, letting himself being inspired by the buzzing community of digital nomads.

He told me that he was spending many nights at the coworking making video tutorials for his YouTube channel, taking advantage of the fact that during that time the place was super quiet.

I was impressed by his hardworking attitude and clear thinking.

He could come out kind of arrogant sometimes, but that was a sin of his age.

Mattia is nineteen.

Go back, for a moment, to the time you finished high school.

What were you doing back then?

In 2001, after passing my school exam, I got on a train to Naples, to reach my friend Tobia that had just found an apartment that we would have shared in our first year of University.

That was the horizon I had at the same age of Mattia.

He instead left a small town in the Italian province and got on a plane to Thailand alone.

He is not doing a solo trip.

He is following his career objectives.

That’s something unthinkable for 99 % of his peers.

Especially in a highly conservative country like Italy, where most of the parents still hold the belief of the “permanent job”.

A concept that keep being recycled from the years of economic boom in the 60′ and that still has a strong grip on the whole country.

The fact that Mattia spent a year studying in the USA is certainly relevant in that sense.

I think that his story is emblematic of the kind of encounter you might have in Chiang Mai.

The expiration of my visa forced me to leave Thailand at the end of September.

Going back to the very question that brought me to write this post, I would say that there’s no place like Chiang Mai if you want to grow your online business.

There’s plenty of people to be inspired by, and that can also might help you practically.

Honestly, that’s not a point that I would overlook.

In addition to be a strategic spot for digital nomads, other benefits come from living in Chiang Mai.

Let’s quickly pinpoint some.

The place is super safe.
Life is cheap.
Plenty of cultural spots to visit.
Nightlife is vibrant.
Climate is good for most part of the year.
Locals are friendly with foreigners.
Even if pollution rate is quite high, traffic is not crazy like in other Asiatic city.

That should be a fairly comprehensive account of the reasons that at the end could motivate you to move to Chiang Mai.

It would be a great choice.

It is definitely among the places I would consider if I were ever to decide to live in South East Asia for the rest of my life.

Traveling Vietnam (from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh)

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

Vietnam is a long country.

About 1,650 km (ca. 1,000 miles) from Hanoi to Ho Chi Minh.

Since I arrived in the Hanoi, more than a month ago, the idea was to travel south.

After spending a week in that fascinating, yet messy place that is the Vietnamese capital, I took a quick flight to Danang.

Danang is located about 700 km (ca. 435 miles) south of Hanoi.

The flight took just one hour.

Danang is probably the perfect city for a foreigner that is willing to spend some time in Vietnam.

It has the urbanization, the infrastructures (the most incredible bridges I’ve ever seen) of a modern city, but it is not even remotely chaotic as Hanoi.

It’s a seaside city.

And it’s cheap.

So there’s that too.

Weather can be challenging during the monsoon season, though.

That’s the only downside that I could find.

After spending three weeks in Danang, I took another quick flight to reach Nha Trang.

Again, it took only one hour to fly there.

I found flying the best option to move from one city to another without too much hustle.

It’s not that expensive, either.

You can definitely find a flight for less than 1 mln VND.

VietJet is a good option if you travel on a budget.

There are also bus services covering all the main cities of Vietnam.

They range from 300k to 600k VND depending on the bus provider.

They usually travel early in the morning or at night.

The night buses have cubicles where you can sleep quite comfortably.

What about Nha Trang then?

It’s a classic seaside town where everything revolves around the beach.

The main point of attraction is probably the sailing club.

That should say enough about the city.

The Russian presence has grown substantially recently.

You can really get the impression to live in a Russian colony.

Well, if we were still in the colonial era, at least.

Many shops have their indications in Russian.

Most restaurants have the menu in Russian language.

In general, it is a lay back city with no major expectations, where people can come to catch a break.

I found life to be a little more expensive than Danang, especially if you are going to eat out often, as I did.

I flew to Ho Chi Minh, where I am currently based, in 45 minutes.

This is the largest and most populated city of Vietnam.

9,2 millions living here.

8,2 millions of motorbikes.

You can guess that PM2.5 concentration is quite a problem.

Apart from pollution, which of course is not a minor issue, the quality of life is moderately high.

Enough green spaces, low crime index and very low cost of living.

I think it is worth to spend some time here, if you can manage living in a megacity.

And, if you want to stay away from the hustle, districts 4 and 7 are probably the best option.

I will talk more extensively about Ho Chi Minh in a dedicated post.

For the moment, I will just say that having made this trip was an amazing choice.

Beyond the big cities, I got to see beautiful places like Halong Bay, Hue, Hội An.

I also got to know many special people during my journey.

The deeper I get into Vietnamese culture, the more I love it.

The Vietnamese might come out a little harsh on the surface, but in the end they are among the nicest people I’ve ever met.

What it really means to be a digital nomad

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in digitalnomadism, Lifestyle, travel, World

“Let’s all remember that Anthony Bourdain killed himself.”

I want to start with this sarcastic quote by Dave Chappelle.

“The guy had everything”, he continues in his latest show, “he was travelling the world, meeting interesting people, eating the best food”.

“And yet, he killed himself!”.

Then he goes on telling the story of a guy he met in a Foot Loocker shop.

This was a Chappelle friend that went broke after divorcing his wife.

“The guy was way smarter than me,” he admits, “he went to university, he had a bright future in front of him”.

“And now he had that uniform on. He was selling shoes!”

I can’t replicate Chappelle comical genius here.

But here’s the punchline.

“You know, he never thought about killing himself!”

Big round of applause.

I love Chappelle because he not only makes you laugh your pants off, he does it with the touch of a profound thinker.

His friend probably never did think about killing himself.

That’s true for most people that are struggling in the practical sense, let’s say.

People that need to figure things out to pay their bills at the end of the month.

Generally, these people get mentally stronger going through their struggle.

People that harm themselves are a different kind, though.

Their problem is not out there in the world, but in what they really perceive about it.

It doesn’t really matter if they have a shiny reality in front of them.

They don’t see that, they only see the internal war they are enduring.

It can be depression, anger, anxiety, panic attacks, whatever makes them unhealthy mentally.

Let’s go back to Anthony Bourdain now.

He was the père of digital nomadism.

Everything started with his TV series A Cook’s Tour, which is a brilliant show about the real traveler mindset.

Like Chappelle, Bourdain was a true genius.

His eye on things was always original, sophisticated.

He went full out in life.

His writing was so honest, and superb.

You could see how talented and fragile the guy was.

That’s the kind of person that can do those horrible things to himself, unfortunately.

An open, artistic personality that has a serious issue dealing with his emotional life.

The guy had a toxic relationship at that point.

He was overwhelmed by it.

So sad.

At the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter how great your life can appear to other people.

You can have everything, materially speaking, and be miserable about it.

You can do all the experiences that other people can only dream about and, despite that, feel that kind of emptiness that makes you think about doing “it”.

Life is complicated.

I still haven’t figured it out.

“It takes the whole of life to learn how to live”

That’s Seneca.

I have been living a digital nomad life for a few months now.

I have been travelling around Thailand, Cambodia, and Vietnam for about three months.

At the same time, I’ve been working from the various cities I have visited along the way.

Bangkok, Siem Riep, Phnom Penh, Chiang Mai, Saigon, Hanoi, Danang, Nha Trang, and more.

I never stayed in a place more than three weeks.

That’s what makes me a digital nomad, I guess.

I hate that definition, by the way.

There’s something wrong about it, like combining two words that can be associated with the loneliness of this particular lifestyle.

I prefer the old-fashioned “traveler”.

Anyway.

I am not attracted by the mere moving from one place to another.

In truth, this is the part I like the least.

The nomadic lifestyle is tiring, especially because you often find yourself starting from scratch every time.

Where I should live?

Where I should go to work?

Where I should go for meeting people?

So frequently happens that you have to leave when you have figured things out in that particular place.

Or you didn’t at all.

That happens too.

At one point, you’re starting to ask yourself: Why I am not staying? Or why I am not giving a chance to that relationship?

Because you’re scared.

That’s my answer.

Because you’re running from the appearance of a definitive choice in your life.

Which is the main reason that made you pick that lifestyle, by the way.

You keep running away from what really scares you, indulging in an act that in the long run can make you miserable.

It’s a game of cat and mouse at the end.

That’s my take.

Of course, not every digital nomad feels like that.

There are many young fellas that are just enjoying the freedom of it.

Having this incredible opportunity, it’s great for them.

Most of them work really hard to afford this kind of life.

I have observed twenty-year-olds being more mature with their business than I have ever been with anything.

Of course, they pay a price on the sentimental side.

They get lost.

There’s a lot to learn on this path.

Meeting creative, energetic, interesting people was an unbelievable gift for me.

I had lost some lifeblood along the way.

I had to remind myself that it is never late to do anything in life.

Like starting a blog, for example.

If I had to conduct an evaluation of the pros and cons, I could say that the digital nomad life can be a good shift if everything around you is getting too stagnant.

It gives you the chance to get out of your comfort zone and challenge yourself.

That is always a good thing.

Get out in the world, do things, make errors, discover what you’re really up to.

You can have an idea of yourself that needs to be updated by now.

Of course, there’s also the part of seeing places and meeting people.

That we already know.

Here are some cons instead.

First, the rootlessness of it.

You surf on life, and the only important thing become that adrenaline rush.

You get addicted to it.

With that addiction comes the emptiness and the loneliness.

You lose touch with reality.

At that point, you need to remember yourself that the purpose of this life is not just to accumulate experiences, but to do so in a way that can lead you to grow as a person.

Cost of living in Nha Trang (Updated to November 2023)

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in Lifestyle, Senza categoria, travel, World

A friend o mine that had spent a few months living in Nha Trang, told me that he found life there to be quite cheap.

He was staying in a hostel, working from there, often eating instant noodles and regularly going to the gym.

His monthly budget was about 9 mln VND.

That is pretty much the same amount I spent for a couple of weeks staying in Nha Trang.

I didn’t pick a hostel, like my friend, though my hotel was far from being pricey.

Roughly 1 mln VND per week for a three-star place in a central location.

That’s absolutely fine for Vietnam standard.

The coworking where I was going every day was basically free.

However, there’s to consider drinks and eating I consumed in the bistro where it was located.

150k VND per day, roughly.

What about the gym?

I spent 200k VND for a three days pass.

And massages?

On average, you would spend 400k for a proper full body massage in Nha Trang.

That’s kind of plus that I am adding for people that might be interested in that.

Most of my budget went out for food, though.

I found prices to be higher in comparison to the other cities of Vietnam that I visited.

Coming from Danang, I found the difference quite noticeable.

You can buy a burrito for 65k in Danang.

You need to double the that price in Nha Trang.

The city is a hot touristic spot for Russians and Korean.

It would make sense that prices have adapted to their spending power.

That said, if you are traveling on a budget, you can find cheap eats in Nha Trang, as in any other city of Vietnam.

I will talk about that in a dedicated article.

To wrap this up, I would say that Nha Trang is a great place to pick if you want to have a break from the hustle of big cities like Hanoi or Saigon.

Quality of life is pretty high there.

Sunny days, fantastic beach, a laid-back vibe.

Still, you need to be extra careful on the economic side.

I found myself spending way more than I was expecting when I got there.

That was probably my friend fault for setting the wrong expectations, though.

The best coworking spaces in Nha Trang, Vietnam (Updated to November 2023)

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in Lifestyle, travel, workspace, World

Maybe you happen to be in Nha Trang these days, and maybe you are not a tourist, but a person who needs a proper spot to work from.

You’re in the right place then.

Since I arrived in Nha Trang, a couple of weeks ago, I struggled to find reliable information on this matter.

Google didn’t really help in this case.

I found some blogs here and there, but they were mostly outdated, unfortunately.

So, here are a few things you need to know to avoid getting frustrated driving around in search of your ideal workspace while you are in Nha Trang.

You will find the names below popping up frequently on Google.

Time House Bistro

This would be my first choice.

When I asked the local community on Facebook about the best coworking spaces in Nha Trang, this is the name that came out the most.

It is located in 16A Ngo Thoi Nhiemon, on the second floor of a characteristic French bistro.

There’s a sort of underground vibe that makes the place quite unique in his genre.

It remembered me of my best times in Paris two decades ago.

Anyway, food is great, a bit pricey though.

The co-working on the second floor is quiet enough, even though the music coming from the bistro might be a problem if you find yourself on a Zoom with your client.

Wi-Fi is fast.

The Coworking is free.

Not bad right?

Stockhom Bistro and Co-Working

There’s a new coworking in town.

A lovely bistro located at 43 Ly Tu Trong Street, with a coworking space on the second floor.

Remind you of something?

This would be the posh version of the Time-Out bistro.

It can be the right one for you if you’re looking for a fancy place with private desks and private offices.

It really comes to your needs and budget, which one you want to choose beetwen the two.

If you go for this one, great.

Gold Coast CoWork

This probably the most professional workspace you can find in Nha Trag.

It is located in a modern building that overlooks the sea in No.01 Tran Hung Dao Str.

It offers daily & monthly packages.

Great place but quite costly, frankly.

LIVIN Collective

Moved from his original address in 77 Bạch Đằng to a new spot in 5a Ngô Thời Nhiệm.

That’s an American restaurant which serves delicious barbecue.

Engu Cafe – Cà Phê & Trà Sữa

It is a nice café located in 34 Lê Chân, which only serve beverages.

It is mostly frequented by locals.

It’s normally quiet enough to put some work in.

Wi-Fi is just ok.

It closes at 5 pm, though.

I worked from there a couple of hours in my very first day in Nha Trang.

Harmoony Coffee.

This place is not there anymore. Simply don’t waste time looking for it.

Nha Trang Co-Working Space

See above.

When I went looking for it, I found sort of a golf club.

The girl at the reception was having a nap, and she got really annoyed when I woke her up to ask for information.

Toong

This is an Asian chain of coworking spaces.

They are all around Indochina, and they probably had an office in Nha Trang at some point.

However, if you check on their website, you will not find any address under their Nha Trang location.

Not sure about this one.

You can investigate more if you’re willing to.

If you are a little experienced with how things work in Vietnam, you know that businesses here move around or simply change names quite often.

I don’t know why, honestly, but it looks like nothing is there for long in this country.

I guess it has something to do with their frenetic lifestyle.

I will try to keep up with that, updating the list as soon as it’s necessary.

Stay tuned.

Why foreign investment in Vietnam is booming

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in economy, travel

I was chilling on the majestic beach of My Khe a few weeks back.

When I decided to go for a swim, I asked the stranger that was lying next to me if he could look after my stuff while I was away.

It’s a common thing to do in the West.

The man looked a bit weirded out, though.

“Why?”, he asked abruptly, “you don’t trust people here?”

“Beach thefts are everywhere, I suppose,” I said to him gently.

“Well,” he replied, “I know my city. You won’t have any problem leaving your stuff unguarded here”.

“Ok, thank you”, I said.

I went for my swim finally.

I didn’t want to upset him further with my stupid concern.

I am not going to lie, I found myself often looking at my seat, while I was bathing.

When I went back to my place, the man was smiling.

“See?”, he said, “your stuff is still there”.

He took a sip from the coconut he was holding in his hands.

“I can see that,” I replied.

“Where are you from?”, he asked.

“Italy”.

I stretched out on my beach chair.

A large dark grey cloud had invaded the sky at that point.

“You here for holidays?”, the man continued.

“Not really, I am working from here”.

“Oh…”, he looked surprised, “what do you do?”.

I explained to him that my job involved traveling and writing about stuff.

He wasn’t impressed by that.

The man was a retired engineer.

He was sixty-five, and he lived for forty years in California.

He worked in a microchip factory in San Diego.

He was finally back in his hometown for retirement, but that wasn’t the whole story.

He revealed that he had put together his own production of microchips.

A small factory based in Danang.

He had about twenty engineer working for him.

“You need to fly low here, that’s the most important thing to learn”, he kept repeating.

I didn’t understand his point, though.

From what I was hearing, the man looked quite ambitious to me.

He was struggling with taxes, he revealed further, as the company was fiscally based in the US.

A double corporate tax that amounted to 40% of his revenue.

“That’s a lot”, I said abruptly.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, but we still managed to make two million of net income.

“Really impressive”, I had to admit.

His strategy, was even more impressive.

Buying hardware from China, to process it in Vietnam and sell it to his main customer, IBM, in the USA.

The present and future of the economy of Vietnam in a nutshell.

“Do you know how much I pay my best engineer here? “, he asked abruptly.

“I have no idea”, I admitted.

“The equivalent of 1k dollar per month.” He was smiling again at that point.

He took another sip from the coconut.

The first drops of water started beating on the umbrellas. My bathing suit was still completely soaked.

“Companies are starting to invest big money in Vietnam”, he went on, “you can see why, right?”

“Skilled workforce at low cost”.

“Exactly.”

That is pretty much the answer, every time, everywhere.

“It’s Vietnam time now. We got 60% of the population at working age.”

To give you an idea of what that figure means, I can make a quick comparison with my country, Italy, the eighth world economy, where the working age population amounts to 38% of the total.

“This year we got almost 20 billion of foreign investment already,” he continued, “It can all be pretty much traced back to the processing and manufacturing Industry”.

“Bingo”, I really said that, unfortunately.

There was an awkward moment of silence.

The huge strip of beach in front of us was desert. The waves swelled. The horizon obscured by giant clouds.

“I am going to make the best out of my company, then I am going to sell it”, he revealed.

“Why?, don’t you have kids?”, I dared to ask.

“Two daughters, they both live in US and work in marketing”, he answered with a hint of contempt.

“You’re finally going to enjoy your retirement then …”, we were two old friends getting personal on the beach of an exotic country at that point.

“I am going to have a lot of barbecue with my friends”, he was smiling again.

“That’s nice right?”

“Remember, the secret it to fly low, always” he said one last time.

I was starting to get his point somehow.

The sky had completely disappeared behind a thick blanket of clouds.

I took my towel and the rest of my stuff.

I said goodbye to him.

While I was driving my motorbike back to my hotel, I realized that I didn’t even bother to ask what his name was.

I don’t know how many times I had conversations like that with a complete John Doe.

The strange life of a traveler.

Vietnam is attracting investments

That’s what I wrote on Google the day after.

This is the headline I got:

“In the first 7 months of this year, foreign direct investment in Vietnam reached 16 billion USD, an increase of 4.5% from the previous year. Vietnam continues to be a favorite investment destination for businesses.”

Bingo.

About some breakfast spots in Hanoi, Vietnam

Featured by Fabrizio Bianchi, posted in Food, travel

One of my top priorities when I arrive in a new place is finding a proper western breakfast (if the hotel where I am staying doesn’t provide one).

It might look like an easy task at first glance, considering the amount of café all around the main cities of Vietnam, but you can definitely find some obstacles in your way.

You might want to take a few things into account.

Opening hours

If you are an early bird, you won’t generally have a problem finding your breakfast spot, but things can get a little lazy sometimes.

In general, it is not uncommon for a Western-style café to open late in the morning.

Menu

I just need a toast with eggs and avocado to make me happy, but often Western might just mean “omelet” or “English breakfast”.

Distance

Anything within the perimeter of a five-minute walk. I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want to do after waking up is take an early morning taxi to go for breakfast.

Hanoi is undoubtedly the Vietnamese city with the greatest variety of cafés.

Most of them are located in the Old Town’s area.

Here is a shortlist of places I have visited while I was staying there.

Café Travel

My first choice when I was fancying crêpes in the late morning. Nothing special about it though.

The Note Coffee

Three floors cafés located in proximity to the northern shore of Hoàn Kiếm lake. French style breakfast with croissants and pains of chocolate. Great choice of coffees and juices.

(I pinned a personal note, dedicated to an important person in my life, to a door in the third floor. I can’t reveal more, sorry.)

Ann Coffee

I found this place when I was looking for pancakes. I also had my first egg coffee on the lovely balcony there, (see pic).

Café Hieu

You can find a mix of Vietnamese and western cuisine in this café. It’s the right spot to show consideration for the local (guy/girl) you are dating, without giving up your culture habits.

There are a plethora of cafés in Hanoi, so you are not going to have any problem finding the right one for you.

And you probably are going to pick up a place in the old town for your stay, so this shortlist might come in handy.

P. S.

This is just a random list, it doesn’t follow any particular order.

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