Russia > Everyone seems drunk

Message from the motorcyclists: the package hasn’t arrived yet, but they aren’t waiting for it either. In three days, a group from Motortrails will pass by—they might be able to take it to Ulaanbaatar. The exhaust has been temporarily repaired with fireproof tape. It should hold for now. Today, they are crossing the border into Russia to follow us. We take it easy. First, we replace the alternator belt. The old one had indeed snapped. We loosen the alternator and the power steering pump and replace the belts. It takes some effort to get the belt tensioned properly with the limited tools we have, but we succeed on the second attempt. On the other side of the road, we go to “Travellers Coffee” for a cappuccino and breakfast. To our surprise, Katarina walks up. Since yesterday ran so late, she swapped her shift with tomorrow—her mother is covering for her. She has specially brought a jaw harp (a mouth harp), a traditional musical instrument in the Altai district.

Russia - Camping in the Altai Mountains

Although she normally sells them as souvenirs, she gives it to us as a gift. We thank her warmly. We return slightly late to the hotel for checkout, but it’s not a problem. We say goodbye to the owner and leave Gorno-Altaisk, heading out of the Altai Mountains. As soon as we get on the road, it starts raining. A shame about the view with all that cloud. Luckily, there are also dry periods. The Chusky Track runs right through the Altai Mountains. The road winds through the green hilly landscape, mostly following the Katun River. On both sides, various mountain streams flow into it. Along the way, there are regular signs for rafting on the Katun River. In Ungunday we do some shopping. We buy sandwiches for a late lunch and some food for tonight. We want to camp a bit off the route on the bank of the Karun River. Katarina marked this spot yesterday as the most beautiful place in the Altai Mountains. We have no idea whether there are cabins or if we can camp there. Just outside Ungunday is another attraction. The hotel manager had mentioned that Putin’s summer residence is here, and that you can supposedly drive there. We take the turnoff. A wide two-lane road leads into the valley. Nothing indicates we are approaching Putin’s villa. After twenty kilometers, there’s a sign and a tape across the road. Further on is a gate. In the distance, we see the villa. Putin’s villa. A guard comes out hesitantly. “Putin?” we ask. “Njet njet,” probably meaning Putin isn’t there. We drive back the same way. At milestone 680, a mountain stream flows into the Katun River. We take a small path in search of a campsite. It takes a bit of effort to find the entrance.

Russia - Meeting other residents at the campsite

At the gate, a man says there are no cabins available. When we point to our tent, it’s fine. At the end of the site, right by the river, is a nice spot. Several people are camping there. We set up our tent. Soon we have company. Alex and Anja come over and invite us for Russian whiskey. Anja has clearly had too much. Here we also meet Tanja and Alexander, who are camping with their two sons. The older son, Maxim, speaks a little English and can translate some phrases. While I am talking by a campfire with another group of Russians, I see Alexander staggering toward us. He has apparently almost finished an entire bottle of vodka. Anja—equally tipsy—stumbles behind him. This does not go well on the uneven ground. Alexander falls and remains lying unconscious among the rocks. Anja is pulling at him. I help him up. His wife rushes over to guide him to his tent. Talking with Anja and Alex is difficult, but fun because of the alcohol. Alex wants to prove himself by showing he can still drive a car. We advise against it. It’s probably normal for them to drink heavily during holidays after a year of hard work. At the end of the evening, we return to our own tent.