We just crossed the border from Azerbaijan into Dagestan, the most southern and one of the most infamous autonomous Russian republics. Together with Ossetia, Chechnya and a bunch of even more tiny, would-be independent states in its neighborhood, hopefully Dagestan won’t live up to its reputation of ethnic instability, terrorist attacks or kidnapping while we cross this forgotten part of Europe along the Caspian sea. Indeed, the Belgian foreign ministry still explicitly discourages all travels to the northern Caucasus, especially Dagestan and Chechnya.
Then why choose this route? Because we couldn’t afford the bank deposit for a Carnet de Passage for our truck if taking the route through Iran. Because we didn’t trust the unreliable Baku-Turkmenbashi ferry across the Caspian sea, in combination with the far too restricted Turkmenistan visa. Crossing Dagestan was the only choice left for leaving Azerbaijan on our way further east.
Crossing Quba (Azerbaijan) towards the Russian border, with a view of the eastern High Caucasus
The border crossing near Samur (AZ) takes us no less than 3 hours, even though there’s no queue. The Russian customs don’t really know which vehicle category to assign to our truck. Every customs officer who notices that we speak English, automatically forwards us to a colleague who can just about grasp the difference between yes and no. Unfortunately, the little Russian I speak is far too limited to understand anything on a customs form. Apparently, because of this language problem, we are a bit of an annoying customer. Soon we are being pushed from pillar to post. The whole situation leads to a lot of confusion on both sides. In the end, it even seems necessary to weigh the truck. At this border, dealing with tourists clearly isn’t a daily routine. Entering the Eurasian Customs Union (Russia-Belarus-Kazakhstan) leaves us with a feeling of uncertainty about having received the right paperwork and stamps, or not.
Finally exploring dangerous Dagestan, we soon arrive at Derbent, the most southern and oldest city on Russian territory and a UNESCO world heritage site. Ten minutes later we find ourselves ‘attacked’ by the kindness of a woman who invites us into her home to have tea with her family. All we did to arouse her ‘anger’ was ask about the path to the citadel. So, we feel very quickly at ease in this unusual, forbidden destination. It definitely is the kind of destination we like.
Naryn-Kala fortress in Derbent (Dagestan)
The Naryn-Kala fortress, although impressive, in very good condition and beautifully situated, in a way somewhat disappoints us. At least its interior, which is rather empty. The next day, this quickly changes when we arrive at the Sarykum sand dune not far from Makhachkala, Dagestan’s capital. From the moment we catch a glimpse of Europe’s highest sand dune – with a variable height of up to 260m – the heat that radiates through our windscreen increases with every kilometer that we draw closer to it.
The area around the dune appears to be a wonderful natural environment, bristling with life. As we later learn, the valley along the dune features a lot of endemic species. We find a camping spot we could call blissful, if it wasn’t for the mosquitoes. There’s an abundance of water in this green oasis, flowing from the High Caucasus. To our surprise, the night feels amazingly fresh. At dawn everything is wet with dew. We start to understand something about this plethora of life that contrasts with the apparent uninhabitability of the dune itself. A local warns us about the very poisonous Caucasian snake that lives in the high grass. In unknown territory, danger lurks where you least expect it.
The valley along the Sarykum dune near Makhachkala
Shortly after Makhachkala we meet a French couple returning from Uzbekistan with their motorhome. They sound somewhat desperate and exhausted. They are the only tourists we’ll meet on the road to Khiva in Uzbekistan. That’s still some 2,000km away. Apparently they are very impressed by the 500km route between Nukus (UZ) and Beyneu (KZ), which really put their car to the test. Because we travel in a 4×4 vehicle with high ground clearance ourselves, we don’t immediately worry about that information. They forget to give the information that is of immediate importance to us: the place where we meet is the last gas station for the next several hundred kilometers towards Astrakhan. Because we have been a bit spoiled so far in terms of the number of filling stations in the Caucasus and Dagestan area, we are not aware of any impending danger …
0verlander’s tip: Fuel availability between Makhachkala and Astrakhan
Be aware that soon after Makhachkala and following the Caspian sea towards Astrakhan, there are no fuel stations until Liman (Lukoil station with Euro 5 compliant diesel), a distance of almost 400km. From there it is still 115km to Astrakhan, again without fuel stations. A serious part of the route is under construction with some big detours and no habitation. Be aware of possible substantial head winds that raise fuel consumption. The area is a kind of desertlike steppe, a preview of the landscape in Kazakhstan. As you are traveling in a depression, it can become seriously hot as well.
Desertification on the edge of Europe: heading north to Astrakhan. Don’t expect to linger around much on the shores of the Caspian sea, as they are rather inaccessible.
Oh yeah, don’t worry. We got to Liman, but it was a close call.