Pyatigorsk, Stavropol Krai, Russian FederationA SLOW AND TETCHY START
We woke up feeling horrible. Abdullah had been right to be concerned about us the evening before. After all, in addition to our meal, we had eaten half a sheep. Or for people who don't eat much meat, that's what it felt like. And although we would not go as far as admitting to being hungover, after all the vodka shots bought for us by our friend Alexei, we were feeling decidedly slow. And super tetchy. "Have you seen my black socks?" I complained. "Well, you never put things back where they should be so how do I know?" replied a caustic Alan. Then pointing out the bleeding obvious "Well, they are not in my bag". "Well, who said they were...?" I snapped. "Well, you were accusing me of taking them....". You get the gist. It was true though. Even though Alan takes a size 13 foot and I am a size 8, we constantly lose socks between us when we travel.
Thing were getting toxic. Anyway, the moral to the story was for us each to travel with different coloured socks. Or more to the point not to accept so many vodka shots and to have eaten less of the frigg'n sheep.
To exacerbate an already tense morning, I received an email from Hazel saying there was no sign of the Russian Princess. Even I had to smile at Hazel's directness. "No sighting of cat squashed on the road. I left fresh food just inside the cat door.... Feeling it would have been better not to let you know. But that didn't sit well with me...". Of course, Hazel had to let me know and I could understand how she was feeling too. But it didn't help my anxiety.
Abdullah had the clever knack of going "Japanese" - our term for just not commenting when things got a bit uneasy. I teased him about it a lot while we were travelling. Every so often he would just stop talking and even when I repeated a question he behaved as if he hadn't heard. I guess it was his protective mechanism for coping with tourists, especially those like us who were that morning constantly bickering. I also guessed there were times when he was thinking ahead and didn't need my incessant questions for my blog. Or my moaning about lost cats, for that matter.
That morning Abdullah went "Japanese" for a very long time.
A DIVERSION THROUGH PRIELBRUSYE NATIONAL PARK
A Changed Itinerary
Our written itinerary for the day was basically one of travel from Terskol to the city of Pyatigorsk, capital of Stavropol Krai where we would be spending the next two days.
From what we could see on our map, we would be re-tracing our journey back along the Baksan River Valley to the village of Islamey where instead of heading right back to Vladikavkaz, we would head north-west to Pyatigorsk. The road journey appeared to take around three hours.
Our Abdullah however, like the Sleeping Beauty, eventually emerged from his "Japanese persona". He was keen he said, to take us on a different route from Terskol which would take us through the Prielbrusye National Park and was what he was told, a particularly scenic journey. There was just a minor problem. He didn't know the way. And he was a bit concerned that the park tracks were not very clearly sign posted. Actually, not only were they completely lacking in any signage at all, they were not located on his satellite navigation system. Nevertheless, it sounded like an interesting journey and a lot more pleasant than retracing our path for half of the day.
The murder just eight years before of three Russian tourists in the village of Zayukovo en route to Mt Elbrus was not lost on us. We had passed through the village the day before but as we had not known the murders had taken place there, had not asked Abdullah about the incident.
When we raised it with him that morning he was, like a true guide, quite dismissive. "Oh, the terrorists thought that one of the tourists was the daughter of Patrusheva, an ex-chief of the Federal Security Service (FSS - once the KGB). But they were mistaken. It was not her, even though she had the same family name".
They killed her though. And two of her tourist friends, I thought grimly.
I fried my brain. What would a group of terrorists think of us two aged Australian tourists? Perhaps they would think I was a relative of our pro-US Prime Minister Scott Morrison, an arrogant and pious Christian leader of a government whose heartless human rights record with asylum seekers (many of whom are from Muslim countries) has ignited both local international shock and condemnation? It was a scenario best not to think about.
To Prielbrusye
On our journey to Mt Elbrus the previous day, I had not appreciated just how beautiful the scenery was from Tyrnyauz to Terskol. Towering mountains with vertical stone escarpments flanked our road along the Baksan Valley. Even the villages dotted along the way were charmingly quaint with their chalet styled architecture.
At one point Abdullah stopped at the convergence of two rivers. Interestingly, the waters from each river did not mix. Instead, the milky colloidal waters from the snow fed Terskol River flowed side by side with the clearer aqua coloured, turbulent waters of the Baksan; quite a fascinating phenomenon.
And Abdullah was right. Despite numerous instructions from locals, from Tyrnyauz it took us hours to find the route into Prielbrusye National Park.
Had it not been so frustrating for Abdullah, it could have been quite amusing. Time and again, we circled around the mountains above the township of Tyrnyauz, each track taking us in what seemed like ever diminishing circles.
Finally, we reached the road that would take us in a hair pin turn direction back toward Elbrus then north through Prielbrusye National Park and onto Pyatigorsk. No more than a track, it was steep, rough and in places unnervingly dangerous. But the countryside was breathtakingly beautiful.
And here we were in remote, remote Prielbrusye National Park. Just the three of us and a Toyota four-wheel drive vehicle which disturbingly didn't seem to enjoy the trip. Despite Abdullah having it checked out several times before our trip, just the slightest rough patch of road would have it coughing and losing power.
A Note About Prielbrusye National Park
Centred around Mt Elbrus, the Prielbrusye or Mt Elbrus National Park is a reserve of over one million hectares (around 2.5 million acres) which covers the peaks and north slopes of the central Caucasian Mountains in Kabardino-Balkaria. To the west it borders with the Karachay-Cherkessia Republic.
Founded in 1986, Prielbrusye is one of 22 national parks of the North Caucasus, covering some 1.8% of the region. The park which includes a range of altitudes ranging from 1,400 to 5,642 meters, boasts a wide diversity of terrain including mountain peaks, side ridges, glaciers, lava flows, lake basins and at lower elevations forested river valleys. As a result of the convergence of two totally different ecological zones and many altitude variations, it is one of the most biologically diverse eco-regions in the world.
Glaciers cover over 400 square kilometers, or 15.3% of the total area of the park, forming the icy head waters of the important Malka and Baksan Rivers which flow to the east and north-east of the park. Naturally carbonated springs commonly called "Narzan" are rich in mineral salts, and believed by many to have powerful healing and health giving properties.
Prielbrusye has a rich diversity of flora and fauna. At the lowest elevations in the river valleys are found deep coniferous forests, mostly pine species with an under story of juniper, barberry and wild rose.
Wetter areas are home to thickets of wild raspberries, currants and gooseberries. Above is a thin belt of broadleaf trees and sub-alpine shrubs. Higher up the tree line alpine meadows abound with wild buttercup and wild rhubarb species. And at the highest elevations there is only rock, snow and ice.
Common forest mammals are the Siberian brown bears, steppe wolves, European jackals, weasels, red foxes, Caucasian lynx, Chamois (wild mountain goats) and wild boars. The park is also home to six species of rare and endangered birds including the Caucasian black grouse, the Saker falcon, golden, imperial eagles and peregrine eagles, and the bearded vulture. The endangered Caucasian viper is also endemic to the region.
A Fabulous Journey Through Prielbrusye: Terrorists, Yobos and Bogans....
The climb up to the park from Tyrnyauz took us up and around enormously steep mountains, clad with massive scree slopes.
Etched at various levels along the ridges were rough tracks leading to impossibly located tungsten mines. It was so reminiscent of what we had seen of the ruby mines in northern Pakistan. At such high elevations and surrounded by obviously recent landslides, we wondered how people could work in such difficult and dangerous conditions. Just getting mining trucks and equipment in and out would be a nightmare. And it was cold too, with patches of unthawed snow littering the mountain slopes.
As we climbed steeply, we realised we were not quite as alone as we thought. In the distant verdant meadows grazed large herds of fat black cattle. Along the roadside wandered some very fine looking horses; mares in foal and other mares with foals afoot. They were in great condition and it was no wonder. In mid-summer, the alpines grasses were lush and almost knee high.
Up ahead we saw a group of mounted herders, with their shepherd dogs. The road was so narrow these guys had to take their horses right over to one side as we edged through. I looked carefully. No, they didn't look like terrorists (well, they were not the stereotyped half shaven and wild eyed). Nor from what we could see, did they appear to sport guns or explosives. They were just friendly young men looking after their livestock. Abdullah stopped and chatted with them for some time. Some things defy translation and for us it was not clear how they were licensed to use the park for their livestock. But it was refreshing to see such beautiful pasture used for grazing. And happy animals in such fine condition.
As we drove away, Abdullah hearing our comments obviously tried to get our heads around another topic. "Now what are the Australian slang words you are teaching me? Ahh, I remember. It was the words 'yobo' and 'bogan'. Are they the same? Can a woman be a yobo or a bogan?"
Abdullah was being far too clever a student. His questions were often impossible to answer. I was beginning to think that going "Japanese" was an option when Alan did the explaining. "Well, you see a yobo is someone who is uncouth and obnoxious. And a bogan is a bit the same but unlike yobos, bogans are slightly nicer as they don't mean to be bogans. A yobo means to be obnoxious. A bogan doesn't. Let's put it this way, on the Spectrum of Undesirable, a yobo would be one one end of the bell-shaped curve and a bogan on the other... Oh, and yes a woman can certainly be a yobo, or for that matter a bogan."
By that time, I was feeling more confused than poor Abdullah. Perhaps this slang training was to prove far too complex. But for a person who had suffered for many years through the two Chechen wars as a refugee and whose first language was certainly not English, Abdullah retained a remarkable sense of humour. Laughing at Alan's outlandish explanation, he just shook his head and said that teaching me some more Russian language would perhaps be a better use of time... We were we knew, very fortunate to have such a balanced person like Abdullah as our guide.
As our journey took us further into the park, our road hugged the steep foothills that rose above bubbling snow fed streams. We could have been part of a picture perfect Van Gogh painting. On each side of us were broad rolling fields covered with flowering wild buttercups and curious broad leaved, succulent looking plants, very much like we had seen at the higher altitudes in Zhongdian, near Tibet in south-west China.
And to our delight, as we turned a corner we were treated to a splendid sight of acres of flowering Caucasian Rhododendrons. How lucky were we to see these wild beauties in full flower? We asked Abdullah to pull over so that we could have a good look and take photographs. Exhausted from his slang training, he was all too happy to do so.
We spent some time just sitting amongst the rhododendrons and absorbing the scenery. With no thoughts of terrorists, or for that matter of the common Siberian Brown bears, we could relax and take in the splendour of Prielbrusye.
For the next part of our journey we were travelling well above the tree line at an elevation Abdullah said was around 2,400 meters. It wasn't just the scenery that took our breath away. Eagles soared high, testament to a secret community of rodents and other wildlife. The stark wild beauty of the high mountains was jaw dropping.
Tough short grasses clung tenaciously to steep slopes. And you could well appreciate the job that these non-descript sedge like plants make to the environment. On steep slopes where the grasses had been washed away, there was signs of seriously severe erosion.
In the distance storm clouds hung threateningly around the higher snowcapped peaks. With absolutely no settlements in sight, it would not have been a great place to be stranded in bad weather. You could be here for days if you got bogged. Thankfully the storms kept at bay allowing us to revel in pure Prielsbrusye Paradise.
And talking of bogging... Not much further on the road had badly eroded in a particularly steep spot. There was however a firm base with large stones gravel; adequate I would have thought to support Abdullah's Toyota Highlander.
But the car was not travelling well, slipping and spinning its wheels in the mud and rocks. And Alan only just got out of the way just in time as Abdullah revved up the machine, splattering stones and gravel everywhere. Unlike the event in Dagestan however, he was spared from being covered in mud. And he was very lucky he wasn't run under!
Fortunately, the cantankerous Toyota did not break down and after another few hours of driving, we had come to the northernmost perimeter of Prielbrusye. Curious high pinnacles (perhaps karsts?) dotted the landscape, interspersed by beautiful mountain cascades. But it was very, very cold.
Cold, tired and hungry after some six hours travel, we were greatly relieved when Abdullah found a small cafe where we could have some lunch. The friendly owner however was distraught. The only food he could offer us was borsch and bread. It sounded absolutely fine to us. And within the cosy confines of the humble cottage-cum cafe, we thoroughly enjoyed our enormous bowls of piping hot borsch, ample bread and coffee.
TO PYATIGORSK
A Wet Afternoon Via Kislovodsk
We were lucky. The threatening skies that had followed us all the way along our northern route to Pyatigorsk, kept at bay until we reached the city of Kislovodsk. And then it poured.
But even stranded in a stationary traffic jam on a rain pelted main road, the city still looked very attractive and from what we could see, quite prosperous. Beautiful cathedrals, gleaming white colonnades and tree filled parks made for what appeared to be a very handsome city. We would however have plenty of time to explore lovely Kislovodsk the next day. Our mission was the city of Pyatigorsk, some 44 kilometers north-east of Kislovodsk and Abdullah's home and place of study for the many years he was a refugee.
We arrived at our Bristol boutique hotel in Pyatigorsk late in the afternoon. A welcome sight, the charming old world hotel which was located in a beautiful tree lined avenue was really lovely.
Friendly staff greeted us, as did a vast number of emails from friends and neighbours back home. It seemed that Hazel had mobilised not only all of our tiny village of Crowdy Head to look for our lost cat, but also our neighbouring town of Harrington. Even our friendly real estate agency and post office was on High Lost Cat Alert. "Well, she will definitely be found or come home" reassured Alan. Even I had to agree.
Thanks to Abdullah, our unexpected journey through Prielbrusye National Park had been nothing less than extraordinary. We all agreed it had been a truly special day.
2025-05-22