Ivo 2006 - Through the lands of Kalmuks and Circassians

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THROUGHTHELANDSOF KALMUKSAND CIRCASSIANS

by Ivo Miesen

Table of Contents

Part IVolgograd to Kalmykia, with Tolik1.

Part IIStavropol Krai2.

Part IIIPyatigorsk ("five mountains"), with Roman3.

Part IVKarachay-Cherkessia4.

Part VDombai to Cherkessk5.

Part VIAdygeya Republic6.

Maps7.

Photos8.

Terminology9.

Related Links10.

[In May 2006, Ivo Miesen solo toured a section of the Southern Federal District of Russiabetween the Ukraine and Georgia and east of the Black Sea.]

Through the lands of Kalmuks and Circassians http://cycling.ahands.org/ivo_kalmuks.h

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> A report about my trip through Southern Russia during may this year [2006].

> Have a good read!

>

> Ivo

Part IVolgograd () to Kalmykia (),with Tolik

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Daylight is fading as Tolik and I approach the village of Arshan Zelman. Our water suppliesare low, so we need to replenish them before camping somewhere on the steppe. A brightyellow Buddhist temple is dominating the entrance of the village. We stop to admire it. Twoyoung Kalmuks on bikes see us and greet us friendly. We can fetch water out of the well ofone of their houses, but before we can fill our bottles we are invited for Kalmuk tea, withloads of very fresh milk.


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We started out from Tolik's hometown of Volgograd, a city very busy in the finalcelebrations of the end of WWII, a war which nearly completely devastated the city. SinceTolik lives in the northern suburbs of Volgograd we passed the immense memorial ofMamajev Kugan, a small hill being one of the scenes of massive fighting during the Battle ofStalingrad. Everywhere in town are war memorials decorated with fresh flowers. Today it's abustling industrial city stretching along the shores of the Volga river for 70km.

It takes us all afternoon before we reach the Volga-Don channel. Only there we leave the

city and soon enter completely different territory. Only a few dozen kilometres from thebanks of the Volga the scenery drastically changes to immense steppe with irregularvillages living either from the road traffic or from their pasture lands. Herds of sheep andcows are guarded by mounted shepherds with dogs.


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A strong side-wind slows us down and makes the steppe even longer. It's here that theKalmuks settled after migrating west from the Asian lands of their ancestors. They broughttheir traditions of livestock breeding and Buddhism with them. And their charmingfriendliness making the inhospitable steppe a lot warmer.

At irregular intervals truck-driver caf's form a small oasis of rest from the wind andespecially on our third day from the rain. Only shortly before the Kalmuk capital of "Jelista"

we see more people and signs of farming. We arrive in the capital while it rains in a dark

night. The next morning we take our time to visit the town. It is a strange combination of drabSoviet-style apartment blocks and brightly coloured Buddhist shrines and temples. Kalmukis spoken everywhere but no one has a problem being addressed in Russian.


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Tolik wants to cross all of Kalmukia before he has to go back to work, so in the afternoonwe continue our ride. In a village south of Jelista we are stopped by a police control. Asusual, they ask for our documents and are quite dumbfounded seeing my Dutch passport. Afew hours later I have to pul l it out again, this time at the border demarcating the end of theKalmukian pasture lands and the start of Russian farming. Tolik takes the night-bus toVolgograd from the first village in the Stavropol Kraj while I find a bed in the dormitoryopposite to the station.

Part IIStavropol Krai ( )

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The TV in the dormitory is showing the usual sort of film at the start of Maydisplaying thefearless Soviet soldiers fighting during WWII. The next day is a day of celebration, VictoryDay. For me it's another cycling day, a cycling day with occasional rain-showers. During one


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of these rain-showers I stop at a village restaurant to drink some tea. This time a more luxuryrestaurant, not the usual truck stop. Shortly after I've ordered my tea, two army officers enter,both of them in varying degrees of drunkenness. When they hear that I'm a foreigner theyimmediately take interest in me. First they try to persuade me to drink with them, then one ofthem starts the usual heavy handedness applied by Russian officers to common soldiers.Luckily I manage to stay calm. I finish my tea and, with the assistance of the barmaids,

manage to retreat to my bike and the road. I decide to stick to truck-stops for the next days.

In Svetlograd I once again experience that many new roads are constructed in Russia. Theone which, according to the map, is a small and quiet valley road, now in reality is aring-road around the town of Svetlograd. Just after the town a new rain-shower starts. Idecide to cycle on and search for a hotel somewhere along the road. In a village I askaround. There should be a small hotel in the next village, Gofitskoje. Through a wet anddark evening I plod on, passing a few nice camping spots. But, in the next village there isn'ta hotel. The staff of a roadside caf let's me sleep there though, to keep the night watchmancompany. I roll out my mat and sleeping bag onto the floor. During the night I have to retreat

to higher groundthe roof is leaking due to a violent rainstorm.

The morning shows another picturewithin an hour after the start I'm in shorts and short-sleeves again. The main road goes via Stavropol, but I take a short cut via minor roads. Onlymountain villages along the road and great spots to eat. Aleksandrovskoye is the only small


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town I pass. After Aleksandrovskoye there are no supplies for the next 50km. The road leadsstraight as an arrow to Mineralnij Vody. It's a constant up and down, really wearing medown. Kilometres away from the main-road are the villages. Camping spots enough, but

water is the problem. I have to decide between a detour to fetch water or plodding on to Min.Vody. I decide for the latter option. and find lodging in Hotel Kavkaz.

I'm only 25km north of Pjatigorsk, a short ride before I meet my old friend Roman. He meetsme at the outskirts of town where my luggage is transferred into the car of one of his friends.After running some errands, he shows me the town by bike. Pjatigors is an old spa withmany old buildings dating back to the Tsarist empire. And many springs, one of them beinga lake inside a mountain. But the best, Roman saves for the last. He is one of the pilots atthe local paragliding base. So, in the early evening we cycle to a mountain near the town, tothe paragliding base. Here, among great scenery I find the typical atmosphere of Russianoutdoorsmen.


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Part IIIPyatigorsk ("five mountains"),with Roman

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The next morning, Roman invites me for a tandem-flight. Loaded with paragliding kit wescramble up the mountain. On the top several paragliders are collected, all with rather

pensive expressions. An elderly man is holding up a wind-speed meter. The wind is a bit onthe strong side and very unpredictable. Quite quickly it's clear that only the experienced solopilots can fly, no chance for large tandem parasails under these conditions. I go down againand restrict myself to photographing the flights of the experienced pilots.


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After replacing a stuck gear-cable, I set of for the real mountains of Northern Cuacasia.Already, in Pjatigorsk, I noticed an enormous police presence. But on the Pjatigorsk-Kislovodsk road the police presence was huge. Every few hundred meters a policeman wasstanding, in eye-contact with his colleague along the road. Now and then a police carfollowed by some 4WD's would speed past. Just before the outskirts of Kislovodosk, alltraffic is stopped. An enormous convoy of police cars, 4WD's and luxury cars races toPjatigorsk. After this convoy passed, all traffic resumes.

Just after the border with Karachay-Cherkess Republic, I stop to ask for some water. Myplan is to find a place to camp just after a set of villages. My request of water is answered

with an invitation for teaan invitation I gladly accept. But it doesn't end with tea, a wholemeal appears on the table. The neighbor's daughter, who speaks good English, is invitedtoo. No chance to leave before the night. A long evening of food, tea and conversationfollows, only interrupted by a visit to the neighbor's banja. A perfect display of Caucasianhospitality. But they tell me long tales of the other side of the Caucasus, of assassinationsand of the risks of the Caucasus after dark. The next day I experience the danger myself.


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Part IVKarachay-Cherkessia (-)

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In the last village before the Gumbashi Pass, I restocked with supplies. At 2030m GumbashiPass is one of the highest road passes in Russia. Most traffic takes a detour via a lowerroad, so after the village, traffic was scarce. A few km down the road two men sitting on aconcrete block addressed me. They posed the usual friendly questions. They asked me tocome behind the blocks due to the traffic. Immediately behind the blocks I didn't feel thatcomfortable.

I was right in my feelings, they started to ask for money when they sensed my changedattitude. 2000 rubles they wished (about. 60 Euro) and threatened to beat me. I was not very

eager to part with this sum, so I tried to get out of the situation. Luckily I was only 50m fromthe road. When one of the men started to threaten slashing my tires with his knife I started topull some money out, very slowly, 10 ruble bi ll by 10 ruble bill. Just when I ran out of 10ruble bills the two men started to get a bit nervous since they heard a car coming. They triedto pull me and my bike behind the bushes, luckily it's not that easy to drag a loaded touringbike for the uninitiated. Everyone fell to the ground and I was the first to be on my feet again,running to the road. The car had already passed, so I drew my mobile, but alas, no signal.But still they could see me with my mobile phone. A 100m down the road a shepherd wasvisible. I ran to him and explained that I needed help. Just as I was talking to him the twomen appeared 300m down the road, running. The shepherd immediately gave chase whileI searched for my bike. The bike was okay, only some mud on the panniers. Not a singleitem was missing.


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When I returned with my bike to the road I saw the two men running very fast towards thevillage. The shepherd was quietly going up again. I thanked him and he told me that themen were afraid of his nervous horse. Anyway, two not so experienced robbers don't have achance against a mounted shepherd with a dog. I thanked him again and resumed my rideup the mountain pass. I was glad that all ended in my advantage. They were the ones whoreceived the biggest shock. And I was strengthened in my opinion that staying calm andnon-violent is mostly the best option in such a situation.

Shortly before the top of the pass I entered the clouds, a pity since from the top, on a clearday, mount Elbrus is visible. On the descent, I suffered the only puncture of this trip. Apartfrom that, the descent was great, without major difficulties. Still occasional cows on the roadcalled for attention. At the entrance Karachajevsk there was the usual police control. I toldthe officers that I had an incident with two bandits down the road. I couldn't give a properdescription of the man, so no use of filing an official report. Jokingly one of them offered meto sell his gun.


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I didn't feel that safe in Karachajevsk. Too many men standing around looking for a cheapand fast ruble. At the bus-station there were only small GAZelle buses. Since it's a dead-endroad to Dombay, I'd decided to take a bus up. Prices quoted were insane, 500 ruble for the40km trip on a marshrutka. So I set out by bike. Not long after I left Karachajevsk the same

marshrutka overtook me and stopped. Now the price dropped to a more acceptable 100ruble. I agreed. The driver dropped me of in Teberda.

From Teberda on, cars and buses have to pay a special tariff to enter the national park.Cyclists are only registered and don't have to pay, except with their sweat. So the final bit toDombay I cycled again. The rain had stopped and between the clouds wonderfulpanoramas were visible. Dombay has a wide range of accommodations. I settled for thedorm room of the mountain rescue team. Sadly, no other guests, so I had to spend the nighton my own.

Part VDombai () to Cherkessk ()

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Quite some time ago I wrote a 4 parts of my trip report through Southern Russia. Due to time

constraints I had to stop writing the last parts. But now I pick it up where I left you, in the

alpine village of Dombay where I found a lodging at the local rescue brigade.

The evening in Dombay was quite leisurely. Hardly any tourists in town, after all it was toolate for the skiing season and too early for the hiking season. So, a perfect time for the

mountain guides to throw a party. I retreated to a local caf to find an excellent dinner. In themorning, when the guides slowly started to appear, I discussed with them which hikes werepossible for me with my skiddy sports shoes. Only through the valley of the Alibek river wastheir conclusion, most valleys were off-limits now due to avalanche risks. So I spent a nicemorning strolling through a rainy valley. When the rain ceased, I went back to the villageand the cable-car station. Going up to 2400m was a lot easier by cable-car and ski-li ft as bybike ;) Lot's of snow still at 2400m, and still many skiers. With my skiddy shoes it was not a


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pleasure up there, my MTB-shoes would have been better.

While waiting for the return cable-car I talk a bit with some locals. Down in the village Imeet them again. They ask me to join them in a small excursion to a li ttle swamp

somewhere down the road. Despite the bad weather it's a well spent rest day.

The next day was half a rest day. I had about 1500m altitude to loose. So enough time toconcentrate on safety issues. While passing Karachajevsk I got the same bad vibes as twodays earlier, something told me that it was not that safe there. So I decided to evade furthertrouble and move more down, to the main road. Originally I planned to go via some backroads through the villages. Not this time, that's something I'll do another time when I'm nottraveling alone. Only a few kilometres after I decided to change my plans, a car stopped. It

was one of the mountain guides on his road to Cherkessk. I told him that I changed myplans. He completely agreed with me, the mountain road through the villages is only safe

when you're in a group.


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Completely against my habits I arrived in Cherkessk in broad daylight. Luckily my regionmap also had a map of downtown Cherkessk, including hotels. First try was the hotel nearthe stadium, but that was under reconstruction. But as usual in Russia, sportsmen helpsportsmen. A local football-trainer gave me excellent directions to another hotelHotelCherkessk. A typical hotel of the old intouristtype. A bit decayed, but friendly priced. Thereceptionist was quite astonished when I presented her my Dutch passport. Apparentlyforeigners hardly reside here.

Part VIAdygeya Republic ( )

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While spending the evening in Cherkessk, I start to think about the Caucasus. It strikes meagain that all the youngsters on the street in Cherkessk walk togetherboys with boys, girls


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with girls. They are eying each other, but hardly talking. The only mixed groups are theRussians. Clearly the male and female worlds are very separated. On the other hand, Ihardly see any signs of heavy Islam, less than in an average western European town. So itmust be the old patriarchal Caucasus culture which defines the specificity of the Caucasus.

The next day I race out of the Karachay-Cherkess Republicnot that I'm afraid anymore,but for the first time during this trip I have a good tailwind. I easily arrive at the Baku-Rostovmain road. Finally some fine tarmac with excellent services. I profit from that with a nicelunch in a roadside caf. Three policemen enter when I'm having lunch. Behind their heavyarms (Kalashnikov assault rifles) they are very friendly.

Again I arrive at my destination with lots of time in hand. At the side road to Armvirsk, I see asmall hotel. But this time the receptionist quotes a completely different price as mentionedon her desk. I don't like the policy of foreigner prices, so they loose a customer. On the mapa turbaza is mentioned in Armvirsk. I have to ask a few times before I find the right trail to theturbaza. But it's not a real turbaza, it's a otdechat baza, a leisure centre of a factory. Thereception is completely different from the reception at the small hotel. After a friendly chat

with the guard, I'm assigned a cabin. When he hears that I'm a humble postman, he doesn'teven charge me for the night. The huge network of turbazas and other holiday camps is anasset for Russian tourism which could be used in a far better way. There are not manycustomers in the off-season: only fourall relatives. The two guys are already quite drunk.


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Both of them served a few contracts in Chechenya. That's clearly visible. They are quiterude and heavy handed, also towards each others. The girls keep them in check though, incontrast with the Caucasus mores. So it's still a pleasant evening.

The next autonomous republicthe Adyegya Republicis already different. It's a Muslimrepublic but next to the mosques the old Soviet influences are very well visible. Again I seevillages with names like '20 year octobe'. Also street-names are of the common kind. And noclassic Caucasus habits anymore. When I have my evening stroll through the streets of thecapital Majkop I see young couples everywhere. But the old taxi-driver who drives me toback after the evening stroll greets me in the Arab fashion. A friendly reply of the right kind,Aleikum Asalam, breaks the ice. Even the fare is of the regular kind. Before sleeping, Ihave a chat with some sportsmen who stay in the Turkompleks where I stay too. It's speciallygeared for sportsmen, so plenty of like-minded guests.

The final day is a day with two different sides. The first part is relentlessly roll ing. The mapis correct here, an enormous amount of altitude lines, all around 500m. This wears me downa lot more as the final part of the daythe small road to the coastal town of Tuapse. Here Ihave to scale a few passes. But these passes, even the unpaved one, are a lot easier as therelentlessly rolling highlands. On top of the highest one, the Shaumansky Pereval, I talk a

while with a family running a small restaurant. Their small daughter, nicknamed "hooligan",is racing around on her tricycle. Sadly, I don't have the time to eat here, evening is nearing


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as does a l ight rain-shower. I race down the mountain, despite the unpaved road. HeavyKamaz trucks are no match to me.

For the first time during the trip I have some serious problems finding affordable lodging. Allthe mentioned hotels only have expensive rooms left over. The only budget option, HotelTuapse, is another problemthis hotel is owned by the MVD (Ministry of Internal Affairs),and the receptionist doesn't accept foreigners. So I have to settle for a way too luxuryroomNot a fitting end for this trip. Before boarding a bus to Krasno I walk around town andcatch a glimpse of the Black Sea.

Ivo Miesen


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May 2006

More photos

Related Links:

[ToC]

Ivo's 2005 tour through Ukraine (and Travel Tips!)Ivo's 2004 brevet around Lake LadogaIvo's Dodging Potholes in Bulgaria (SVS-2002)

Maps:


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Terminology:

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GAZelle buses:

GAZ is the main Russian firm for cars, minibuses and trucks. Gazelle is their brandname for minibuses.

[Wikipedia]

Marshrutka:Like turkish dolmus. Itinary mini-bus/taxi taking passengers fast and at a bit higherprice as a bus.

[Wikipedia]

Kamaz trucks:

Kamaz is another brand of Russian trucks.

[Wikipedia]

Turbaza:The Russian Turbaza () focuses on offering cheap accommodation forholidays, yet it has a completely different orientation than a hostelmore like the largecampsites at European holiday destinations than a hostel, the Turbaza makes no


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attempt at encouraging cultural exchange, nor is ityouth-orientedin the manner of ahostel. Most Turbaza are used by groups renting the whole place. Sometimes they aremainly catering to workers from a certain firm.

Another explanation: VisaExpress.net writes:

A turbaza (tourbase) is a holiday camp for Russians, usually owned by a factory orlarge company for the use of its employees. They're often spartan and lodging optionsare usually a large common room with six or more beds, smaller doubles and privatecottages. All are cheap - from as little as R300 per person - and there are reasons forthis: many turbaza have no indoor plumbing, with the stolovaya (canteen) the only

place to eat. But if you bring a good supply of food and a sense of adventure, turbazvare a great way to get a feel for the average Russian's holiday. At some, you canarrange boating, skiing, hiking or mountaineering.

Another explanation:

Aaron Erlich blogs: Turbaza/

Roughly halfway in between Tver and Klin the Volga River meets the Shosha river,and it is there that I spent the last couple of days relaxing in one of European Russiasmost beautiful sposts. I stayed in what is called a turbaza, a relic of the Soviet past thatis very quickly dying out. In fact, my rich friend was at first shocked that I knew theword. He was even more shocked when I told him that they still existed.

I didnt actually do much at the turbaza. My attempt to learn the favorite Russianpastime of mushroom picking was thwarted by the lack of mushrooms; my Russianfriends and I only managed to find a small number of the poisonous kind. However, Igained a healthy respect for the rural skills Muscovites still retain. One of my friends,an elegant language student, seemed to leap at the opportunity to catch newts in her

hand and thought nothing of poking around anthills. Both of my friends could easilyidentify at least 15 varieties of mushrooms though they had lived their whole lives inthe city.

The clientele at the turbaza were mainly manual laborers and were staying at theturbaza to fish. The place was full of nostalgia. The men wore the large Soviet plasticframe glasses and the women donned shapeless flower print dresses no longer invogue in Moscow. The summer-camp atmosphere made me appreciate the best in thesocialist ideology. The turbaza is simple, pleasurable relaxation that everyone, nomatter their wealth, can enjoy.

Almost everyone seemed to know each other, and the atmosphere was pleasant.

Though the beds were olds and soft, the cabins were clean and rustically cozy andpleasant to look at like unlike the pre-fab housing in Moscow. The food was alsosimple Russian fare. Everyone ate together in a camp-style dining hall, and the lightswere turned out after half and hour, so there was now lingering.

This type of vacation as been replaced for the capitalist all-inclusive Turkish holiday.500 dollars for a week at a five star hotel just isnt the same, and I hope that at least a


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few these turbaza remain open. If they could just improve the toilets at the turbaze alittle bit, I think they could eventually thrive. Posted by Aaron at August 20, 2004 03:32PM

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Ivo 2006 - Through the lands of Kalmuks and Circassians