I took another trip from Tbilisi to Kutaisi the other week. A long bus ride that started off with some insanity in the early morning with rogue fires and unique Booking hosts. Nothing bad, fortunately. But certainly strange interactions nonetheless, and I'll write about those another time. Though while I was in Kutaisi again this time, I wanted to roam through some of its Soviet past given the city's former heavy industrial importance, once of the larger industrial cities in Georgia, Kutaisi thrived in producing pretty much everything it possibly could, ranging from cars to clothing to stone and chemicals. Some of these factories in and around Kutaisi still remain active to this day, though much of the large industrial locations within the city are now abandoned, untouched and rotting in time. Such large industrial environments that are overgrown, speaking of a former greatness and totally different time. Mosaics scattered around them, some of which still featuring statues of Stalin despite Georgia's strong rejection of the Soviet history, as well as existing laws to actively destroy communist symbolism throughout the country. There's no doubt that in this chaotic era of rampant development for the sake of GDP numbers and filling pockets that many of these abandoned locations remain on borrowed time.
It is through this that I find such a strong interest in these locations, to which they speak of a former empire that only recently collapsed and left behind such a strangely unique set of ideologies and artworks throughout various former republics. Largely under appreciated by most. Regardless of your political stances, these areas are deeply fascinating, especially with the collapse of industry worldwide under the pursuit of quick money and globalism. Again, such massive industrial locations speaking of a totally different era. The reliance on independence, the might of being able to construct and build domestically and giving people the work and support needed for a decent life. I feel the Soviet Union is often looked at under its negatives, rather than its positives. But do we do the same regarding the collapse of the Roman Empire? Not really. Instead we look at its architectural creations, the beauty of the spiritual and technological. To look at things under a different light is to understand the curiosity I have of such locations. The beauty of the abandoned. The stories that the untouched past hold. Everyday stories of people that came and went within these environments.
As our cities and towns change and buildings slowly decay, we forget too easily the stories they hold, the people that once lived and breathed within such spaces. There's something to appreciate there with such environments that remain. Much like that aforementioned consideration of former fallen empires like the Romans. I often roam through these areas and imagine how they might've looked in the past. In their greatest moments of activity and strength, as people came through the halls, through the pathways and down the roads. And to fly the drone above such areas is another level of appreciation, to get that top-down view of it all as it now is, but to also admire the scale of it all. Especially with the few modern approaches to these areas. One smoke stack remained in a residential space. It would've once been the backbone of the residential area's income. Thriving on the materials produced and distributed from it. These towers now sit idle and still remain the most visible things in the horizon for miles despite Kutaisi's hilly landscape. It was quiet, a few dogs both stray and domesticated would bark into the alleys and off in the distance.
I approached around sunset as the light turned pinkish and golden. The abandoned buildings no longer had walls, no longer had windows. Just a frame. A skeleton that had managed to produce more life somehow with the growth of trees on the rooftops over the many decades of idleness. I would've loved to have walked through the area, but I noticed stray dogs jsut across the road, and such areas are often riddled with them due to how quiet they tend to be. Out of general safety I kept the drone flying around the area instead. Not to fail to mention Georgia's insane drug problems which lead to both urban and rural areas coated in used needles all over the ground. Not the safest places to be walking through, that's for sure! With a different thing to mention, I have noticed that in Georgia they repurpose smoke stacks from former factories if they haven't yet been demolished. Often enough for the use of 5G communications equipment, since the towers reign above much of their environments, they're the tallest things around. At least they're used for something still, rather than total demolition! I flew the drone around these smoke stacks a bit to capture them, really wanting to get closer but suffering a little bit due to the little gusts of wind that had me spooked to get too close. As well as any possible interference.
After flying the drone around for a while, I walked back as the sun continued to set. Walking back through the residential space and alongside the railway. Old buildings continued to be on display. Some of which totally rundown, no ceilings remaining and impossible to enter due to the nature that had reclaimed the space. Other buildings had doors open but no signs of life inside. Clear factory spaces and warehouses right next to apartment buildings that were still very much lived in. Others walked around the space with the familiarity they had with it. I walked slowly, looking at everything around, but knowing my curiosity had to remain tame as to avoid the stray dogs as the light rapidly disappeared. I spent a few moments around the main train station of Kutaisi, looking over the area from the bridge, taking the last few photographs I could with the digital camera before moving on back home. I realised this area was one I would return to another time, with so much more I wanted to explore and capture before it's gone forever. It was oddly peaceful, a silence that made me feel like I was the only one around, though I wasn't. A sense of silence that filled the environment where it would've otherwise been dense in noise from the various happenings in the buildings nearby.