Elbrus Day 12 – Day of Days (Wednesday 27th August 2014)

Posted on September 18, 2014 by aquavista

I am not even sure where to start with this blog post, as it was one of the most memorable days of my life for two extreme reasons, and one ultimately a lot more extreme than the other, which I will explain later. It’s going to be a long one, so if you have insomnia when you start reading this, then this one is for you!

So let’s start at about 12.30am, which is when I, along with the ten other people in our trip woke up, in our converted oil tanker sleeping quarters, along with our two guides Adele and Viktor, in order to begin our third and final attempt to climb Elbrus. We had had two failed attempts from the North Side of the mountain in previous days, and come what may would be leaving on a plane tomorrow to go back to the UK, so this really was it, shit or bust time.

At about 1am we were having breakfast of porridge and the like, and were dressed ready to go all night long as far as we could towards the South Side summit. The weather was cold, but not too windy, and the forecast was for a clear night with 35kph winds, which should enable us to summit if our bodies would carry us that far. We would also be helped (somewhat bizarrely) from our starting point of 3,700m by a snowcat, which would take us to 4,500m or so, a height beyond which we had already acclimatized on the other side of the mountain. We’d paid a collective £500 or so for the snowcat between us, so hopefully the four or so hours that it would save us would be beneficial.

Sat expectantly on the back on the snowcat, 2am.

By 2am we were hurtling upwards on a near-fairground experience sat on the outside of the snowcat, trying not to fall off the back as it thrust us backwards on the steep slopes of the glacier. The light was almost inky black around us, as the expected clear skies did not materialise (and were to stay that way for most of the night in fact). Getting out of the snowcat about 20 minutes later, we were thrust into an incredibly cold and windy existence, where the glow of our headtorches made a mere dent as far as our feet into the spindrift being blown at times violently into our faces. This was a night when any piece of exposed skin would end up with severe windburn if you were lucky, and frostnip if you weren’t.

The night was to be in terms of conditions almost as ferocious as the first night on the North Side. The wind never abated, and when zigzagging into the wind the best tactic was to almost bury your head into the rucksack of the person in front of you by way of shelter, although at times I wasn’t sure if I was heading up or down.

Katherine soldiers on just before the dawn.

Viktor leading our troop, now diminished by three, just before day breaks.

By about 6am after three and a half hours when I wasn’t sure if we were going to make enough progress to even see the top of the mountain (and as this was day 12 and we still hadn’t even seen the summit that would have been a real shame in itself) the first signs of daylight brought at least some perspective on our surroundings. In fact the sight was amazing, an orange corona around the top of the Georgian mountains surrounding us. Ahead of us was the saddle between the two peaks of the mountain, which at least brought some brief solace from the relentless steepness of the rest of the mountain.

The dawn starts to appear and the clouds start to lift too, although the steepness of the mountain hasn’t relented yet.

And then from one moment to the next, from near darkness still….

….daylight appears, although with it a really intense cold wind.

Roxanne heading towards the saddle – the corona we saw is well evident in the background here.

When finally into the saddle at about 5,300m after the break of day, I began to think that I might even make the top of this mountain after all. We had surely battled past the worst of the weather, and now that we could see our path ahead of us there seemed now to be only one obstacle to overcome to actually do this thing, and that obstacle was me.

Just approaching the saddle of Elbrus.

And then into the saddle at about 5,300m, the summit finally in sight in the distance.

It was at this point that I became aware of two things. Firstly we were no longer 11 people, we were down to 8. Dave, Jo and Andy had been beaten back by the winds and the altitude and had headed back down the mountain. I later found out that they had to do so alone, as the guide assigned to them had buggered off without them, but they thankfully made it down to safety in one piece. Secondly, as I was walking behind Hui Ling, her walking became more and more erratic, and I was aware that she was losing a bit of focus, presumably from the effects of AMS. I called for Adele, and she put her onto a short rope to help guide her either up or down depending upon how she reacted. We all then stopped for a drink, which is when I first became aware that I had a little bit of trouble too.

I suddenly realised that after about five hours of intense activity, I had drunk nothing whatsoever. My Camelbak, which I have no idea why I bothered filling in the first place, was frozen solid, insulated tube or no insulated tube. Similarly the top had frozen onto my other water bottle, and my flask of hot water was buried into my rucksack so deep that I didn’t dare take it off my back. I should say that I normally drink about three litres of fluid on a walk of this length even at sea level, and so this didn’t probably bode well, but no matter, I felt fine overall and so climbed on. I did get an energy gel down me and some very frozen chocolate, so that helped a bit.

The stretch after the saddle was really steep, the steepest so far in fact, and took practically all of everyone’s remaining energy away. Following this part there is a fixed rope section, which is probably only 100 or so vertical metres from the top, but is hard going, as it is a steep traverse, and at 5,550m or so, you need all of your faculties to just be able to clip in and clip out, and I knew that mine were now waning somewhat.

The walk to the summit mound from there became a bit hazy for me, and as the weather closed in again, the winds picked up, and it became punishing to try to walk in a straight line. We no longer had views of anything at all, and it became just a grind to walk those extra few steps to get up to that elusive place which had consumed so much of me for so long. As the others all trooped up to the summit I hung back and waited for Adele and Hui Ling, hoping so much that Hui Ling was ok and had made it, and that I could share my summit with Adele too, who after all had done so much for all of us and been such an inspiration. Thankfully after about 10 minutes they appeared out of the clouds, and we walked up the ridge to the summit together.

And then all of a sudden I was there! – Europe’s highest point, a massive moment, and 8 of us plus Viktor and Adele stood proudly at 5,642m in triumph.

And it was the shot we had all been waiting for! From left to right, Viktor, Hui Ling, Steve, Roxanne, Dennis, Katherine, Cormac, Paul and yours trull all celebrate our great achievement.

I managed to get my camera out for the following shot too, taken for me by Cormac – thanks Cormac!

The summit stone at 5,642m - the second of my Seven Summits.

The summit stone at 5,642m – West Peak, Mount Elbrus, 9.30am 27th August 2014.

Oh and here’s one more just for posterity 🙂

There are no words for moments like this.

Now there is a very famous book by one of the most famous climbers of all time called “No Shortcuts to the Top” by Ed Viesturs. His mantra in that book and throughout his climbing career was “getting to the top is optional, getting down is mandatory”, and these thoughts flashed through my mind only a matter of a few metres after beginning the descent. It was then that I realised that the adrenaline that had probably got me up the mountain was now starting to disperse, and that other factors were starting to take over.

Firstly on the steep fixed line traverse, I was finding it very difficult to bend down to clip in and make regular lifting movements with my crampons. Then on the even steeper section down towards the saddle I found that I was struggling to walk at all, and I had to helped (along with Hui Ling) by Adele and Viktor to try downclimb on my hands and knees. Everything all of a sudden became a monumental effort even to poke the front of my crampons into the ice. I knew I had to do it to stop myself falling, but my body became incredibly weak and incredibly tired. I had Adele and Viktor simultaneously shouting at me for my own safety, but I could no longer control properly what I was doing. I had altitude sickness, and it wasn’t good, I knew it.

From there the next half hour or so is all a bit vague, but I can remember walking across the saddle and trying to drink something from Viktor’s flask, and it having no impact on me. I knew I was incredibly thirsty, and incredibly tired at the same time, but I couldn’t overcome either of those feelings at all. I tried to walk but my legs were like jelly, I tried to speak but my words came out like slurred rambles, and I tried to stay awake but my body was just telling me to go to sleep. I recall lying down on the snow, at about 5,500m, and saying that I was going to bed now, as that is all I wanted to do.

From there, all I can say is that I was incredibly lucky. The quick thinking and actions of both Adele and Viktor may well have (almost certainly in fact) saved my life. Adele told me afterwards that upon looking at me, my head was swelling, my eyes were bulging and dilated, and that I showed all the signs of High Altitude Cerebral Edema (“HACE”). HACE http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/High-altitude_cerebral_edema untreated leads to death in 24-48 hours I am told, and I was so lucky to have Adele there (who had once I learned afterwards suffered from HACE herself) and upon recognising those signs, basically carried me with Viktor down about the next 1,000m of the mountain.

I was thereafter (half way down the mountain at about 4,500m) treated quickly with Dexamethasone and Diamox, plus painkillers for what was the most blinding headache I have ever had in my life. It is fair to say that Viktor carried me almost single handedly down that mountain – and for a man about five inches shorter than me, and in his fifties, he is as strong as the average buffalo. Or maybe his adrenaline just kicked in to the effect that he knew he had to get me down to save my life, I don’t know. Either way he is (and they are both are equally) a hero to me, and I can never find ways to thank him or Adele enough for what they did. Sure, it is their job as mountain guides to look after their clients and help them if they are in difficulty, but this is way way over the top and over above the call of duty stuff. This probably had them as scared as I was, and they were just unflappable and kept me calm, safe, and got me out of trouble. There are no words I can find to adequately express my thanks or admiration for how they responded to me.

I could go on from here about how the rest of the day went (it was now still only lunchtime after all), and how we all got down the mountain afterwards and back to Pyatigorsk, but this has been already the longest blog post I have ever written, and it has already said enough. I started it by saying I didn’t quite know where to begin, but I do know where to end:

On a day that I will never forget, the 27th August 2014 is forever etched into my memory.

Congratulations firstly to each of Steve, Hui Ling, Cormac, Paul, Katherine, Dennis and Roxanne for summiting Europe’s highest mountain at the third time of asking. I’m bloody pleased that I made it too. Well done also for the great efforts, camaraderie and friendship to each of Jo, Dave and Andy, who reached different heights and goals of their own the same day.

Moreover, thank you from the bottom of my very being, to Adele Pennington of Jagged Globe, and Viktor (second name unknown) from New Route Guides in Russia. I will say more about you both in a close out post for this incredible adventure, but for saving the life of this humble and eternally grateful soul, I salute you and will be in your debt until the end of my days.

Elbrus Day 11- The trip to the South Side – August 26th

Posted on September 16, 2014 by aquavista

Waking up back in a hotel in Pyatigorsk seemed extremely strange. It would after all have been strange enough on its own without the fact that we all woke up this morning here after having spent 7 or 8 days on the mountain, and as a precursor to heading out for another go at the other side of it. We had also been out last night for a great meal of pizza with beer, such an indulgence after what had seemed endless days of buckwheat and borsht served in a mountain hut. It was almost a strange feeling in fact to actually be able to choose your own food again – amazing how quickly the brain adapts to a set of forced conditions.

So after a breakfast in the hotel’s immaculate (and so out of place) ballroom, it was off to pack again for our new adventure. We would transfer by coach to the ski resort of Terskol on the south side of Elbrus. From there we would get a cable car to a mountain hut, or ‘barrel’, and then we would be taken after midnight by snow cat (i.e. a piste bashing machine) to about 4,500m, from where we would attempt a summit push. It was our only remaining hope of standing atop of Europe’s highest mountain, and if it seemed like somewhat convoluted means, then so be it. That (the summit) was what we had come here for after all, and we had already acclimatised to 4,800m by our own steam on the North Side to be beaten by the winds, so no-one could say that we hadn’t done the whole mountain by our own means, even if it would be now, at least in its totality, in somewhat convoluted steps.

On the bus leaving the hotel to head for Terskol – lots of refreshed and happy faces!

The journey to Terskol was really interesting, and a complete contrast to what we had seen on the North side of the mountain. We passed firstly through a series of Islamic towns, a poorer contrast to the niceties and Mercedes of Pyatigorsk. Then the road headed into a beautiful green valley, with gorges and towering limestone edifices that anything in Yorkshire and Cheddar could only dream about. It was truly stunning.

We then went through a number of what appeared to be military checkpoints, a sobering sign that this part of the world is both very unstable, and also it made us mindful of the fact that we are reasonably close to Ukraine, where of late so many people have lost their lives in the fighting with rebels, in a war that most people, myself included, find bewildering and sad. We were also extremely close to Georgia, scene of rebel fighting for what seems like forever, and so we were advised not to get cameras out. As I am a.) a conformist (most of the time anyway), and b.) I believe in heeding advice when machine guns are in evidence, then “nothing to see here” is all I can say!

It was then that the road started to meander upwards, the altimeter on my watch showing me the progressive increase in height as we passed alongside a river of glacial meltwater. This road was also notable for two other strange things. Firstly there were cows everywhere, but not on the fields, actually walking along the road. This was very odd, and must have an explanation somewhere that I need to pursue at a later date.

Cows on the road for miles on end – bizarre!

Secondly we passed through what was effectively a ghost town – there were factories and disused buildings everywhere, which made it quite eerie. Dennis (or maybe it was VIktor) told us that the town used to be a Molybdenum plant. I wondered if somehow there was a link between the plant and the fact that the cows were no longer in the fields. We even saw one (a cow that is, not a Molybdenum plant) stood in an old disused bus shelter.

Anyway – the road then led us into the foothills of the Caucasus mountains, and all of a sudden there were towering snow capped mountains ahead of us, with glaciers radiating sunlight into the sky. It was stunning. The road then took a steep incline and we were then suddenly into Terskol itself – surely the most ugly ski resort in the world, but our stepping stone to getting up the mountain which towered somewhere unseen in the clouds above us.

In the ski resort of Terskol at 2,400m – not pretty, but functional at least!

Viktor took us to the oldest and most run down cable car station I have ever seen, and after handing over about 500 roubles each to a dark face in a very dark window, we climbed on board the rickety cable car, the 13 of us it’s only inhabitants other than one other passenger.

In the cable car and looking back at Terskol.

The cable car took us to about 3,000m from the base at Terskol of 2,400m, whereupon we climbed on board another similarly rickety and similarly deserted cable car to get us to 3,500m. We were now well into the midst of the various glaciers that crawl down the south side of the mountain. The mountains in the distance provided a beautiful backdrop, even if Elbrus itself was yet to yield anything resembling the slightest hint of attractiveness of any kind.

And moving higher still in the second cable car.

At 3,500m we alighted to find a further and penultimate mode of transport up the mountain. This time a single person chairlift. If I described the cable car as rickety, then this chairlift made it look state of the art. It was almost comedic, the bar on the front not even coming close to securing a passenger on, and the cold metal seats somewhat rusting for the probably 40 or more years that they must have been in service for. Jumping on and crossing fingers, the journey took us a further kilometre it so along and a further 200 vertical metres to 3,700m, to the barrels that awaited us for the evening.

Leaving the cable car and heading to the chairlift…

….and riding up the chairlift towards the barrels – some of the chairlifts had a front bar to sort of half hold you in, others did not!

….and finally arriving at the top station, just glad to have stopped travelling……

…..to our home for the evening – the barrels!

The barrels were converted oil tanks, and had six beds in each. We would get some rest in here before getting up at midnight for the big push. In the meantime it was a case of settling in and preparing kit etc for the evening, although by and large there wasn’t much to prepare, as we had pretty much just carried with us only the stuff that we would need for this evening, and we would therefore be either wearing, or carrying, the lot.

Inside barrel number 6!

Then after a short afternoon where we ate some mo mos and some strange cake that I was rather concerned wasn’t going to stay in my body for very long, followed by a dinner where we had some strange fish dish that I knew wasn’t going to stay around for more than 10 minutes, following which we all retired for a few hours to try to get some sleep.

We have our last mountaintop lunch together…..

….and the other half of us…..

….whilst Viktor and Adele sort out monies to pay to guides, cooks, and snowcat drivers alike.

We couldn’t see anything really of the top of the mountain from where we were, and it all added to the surrealism of our surroundings and made me wonder whether it was all happening at all. The sight of the snow cats and a glimpse of higher slopes through the clouds though made us realise what we were all here for though, and put some focus on things, albeit briefly.

The snowcats – we’d ride in the back of these sometime after midnight to help us on our way a bit.

Everyone was nervous, but we’d all be going for it. Breakfast was set to happen at midnight. The weather looked like it might be clear enough to summit, but the winds were the big unknown. If they held to the predicted 30/35kph, then Elbrus might let us ascend her upper slopes. As we hit our beds for the evening at about 8pm the winds started to pick up, and I could not sleep as I listened fearfully and hoped that this wind would not beat us for the third and final time this week.

It had been a great and really memorable day, but the next one starting at about 1am in just a few hours would determine whether or not I would get to stand on the second (for me) of the Seven summits. It was as pivotal as it could possibly get, and little did I know what a day the next one would be. I was about to come face to face with incredible highs and scary lows, including an too close vision of my own mortality.

Elbrus Day 10 – August 25th – back to Pyatigorsk

Posted on September 15, 2014 by aquavista

So following on from my last post, day 10 would see us pack up early in the morning after a relentless buffeting from the wind in our hut all night long. Our Elbrus North Side attempts were over after two aborted summit attempts (one at 4,800m due to high winds, the other last night where we couldn’t even leave the safety of the hut, again due to high winds).

The hastily made, but now incredibly exciting, plan for the next 24 or so hours was now as follows:

1. We pack everything we have with us and head back down to Base Camp at 2,500m (about a four hour trek).

2. Two trucks had been booked to take us the four further hours out of the Caucasus mountains altogether and back to Pyatigorsk where we would spend the night back at the hotel we stayed on Day One.

3. We would be transported tomorrow morning by bus to a ski station on the South Side of Elbrus (another four hours) called Terskol.

4. We would get a cable car up to about 3,700m tomorrow afternoon whereupon we would rest before making a summit attempt on the South Side at midnight or so, probably with a little help from a snowcat to get us to about 4,500m. We were already acclimatised to this height and had been there only yesterday by our own steam, so this was alright with me. In fact it was a lot better than alright – it was fantastic.

With the wind now finally at manageable levels, we said our goodbyes to High Camp on the North Side for the last time, and headed down the mountain. Most of us had more kit than our rucksacks could manage and so we arranged some porterage for the bits we couldn’t fit in at a cost of €2/kilo. Some brave (or more parsimonious :)) souls like Andy strapped everything they had to the outside of their packs and soldiered on. I was very glad of the assistance I have to say!

Katherine happy to be heading out and down….

The weather improved remarkably within about 30 minutes of getting out of camp, and got warmer and warmer as the air got richer going down the mountain.

Heading down towards ‘The Airfield’ – Adele with a pack practically bigger than she is!

The trek was easy going and relaxed, which made a nice change after such a hard few days on the glacier struggling against the winds.

Heading through 'the goge' - Base Camp finally in view in the distance.

Heading through ‘the gorge’ – Base Camp finally in view in the distance.

Finally getting to Base Camp at about 11.30, we changed into T shirts and had a very welcoming lunch and (for a few of us at least) a well deserved beer – bliss!

Base Camp warmth and happiness!

It was then back into our trusty little trucks for the long journey back to Pyatigorsk, which went without incident.

On the dirt road out of Base Camp – even Viktor had to hold onto something!

It was almost weird being back in Pyatigorsk. The temperature was in the 30s (centigrade) but the shower was extremely welcome it has to be said after over a week without one.

In the evening we went to a pizza restaurant, and the first thing I noticed was that it was odd to be able to choose your own food. Strange how the mind adapts so quickly to your circumstances where you just put up with (even if you don’t always enjoy!) whatever food is put in front of you up a mountain. It was great though not to have buckwheat and borsht, and tuck into something tasty, washed down with more beer too – fabulous!

Then it was a case of trying to sleep in a temperature of (still) 30 degrees, but I think most folks managed it just fine. I hadn’t slept for the last two nights almost at all, and so could have slept standing up in a blast furnace if I had to.

The next day would determine whether we would be likely to get up Elbrus finally. The logistics alone of us getting into the right position to be able to even attempt the summit meant it was going to be a long and amazing journey in just 24 hours, and on top of the one we had already had, it just added to the fantastic adventure that it already was. This time though it was even more binary, as we had now less than 48 hours before our visas expired and we had to leave the country altogether. In what was now a race against the clock, as well as the elements, we would thus either summit tomorrow night, or would be going home empty handed. The weather forecast didn’t look too bad, but the term “fingers crossed” had never been so apt……

Elbrus Day 9 – summit attempt 2, or not? (24th August)

Posted on September 14, 2014 by aquavista

Day 9 would have been, if all gone extremely well, summit day on Elbrus. Sadly all had not gone to plan at all, and in the early hours of this morning we had been beaten back by some of the most forceful winds I had ever been out in. At about 3.30 this morning, the vast majority of us could barely see or stand up in gales and spindrift which left you breathless. These would have been bad enough on a winter’s day in England, but at almost 5km up on a Russian mountain, they were more than the biggest challenge that we could have coped with.

When we all crawled out of bed at 10.30 or this morning, we were all somewhat battered from the night before, but hopeful that there would be another chance if the weather turned in our favour. The forecast wasn’t good, but then the forecast throughout the whole trip had been entirely unreliable, and we were up a beast of a mountain that didn’t want to play ball, and that is that sometimes.

Today would end up a turbulent day, in more ways than one, and it would demonstrate that teamwork and communications are so vital for how harmonious and ultimately successful any summit attempt can be.

The boots and kit from last night get a good airing.

My midday, after everyone had dried and aired kit out on the rocks at high camp, Adele explained our options to us. We had possibly two more nights here at high camp, and we could (those of us who had the legs) attempt a summit attempt again tonight if we wanted. If it was successful that would be it. If we were again beaten back by the weather, then again those who were still fit, determined and capable enough could have a third go on Tuesday.

To some this sounded ok, to others (already bruised by the evening before’s attempts) it was enough already. Andy, Jo and Katherine for example, decided that they wouldn’t attempt it again this evening, and no-one could blame them for that.

There was also however, another possibility it seemed, which came to most of us slightly from left field, and it happened thus:

The previous expedition to Elbrus (a few weeks prior to ours) had been beaten back by weather too, and they had made a decision to try to go around to the other side of the mountain (the south side), and they (most of them anyway) had successfully summitted. Knowing this, Dennis and Roxanne, being Russian speakers had had a word with our Russian in-country guide Viktor about the possibility of us doing the same.

Killing time, dining hut, High Camp.

This caused a bit of consternation (ok, it caused a whole wheelbarrowfull of consternation) for several reasons. Firstly, this was Adele’s trip as leader and it was her decision ultimately as to what we did and didn’t do, and the fact that there was a subplot going on must have caused some difficulties for her, especially as the logistics were extremely complicated in changing plans at this late stage. Secondly it would mean everyone paying about another €200 to get round to the other side (transport and accommodation costs in the main), with no more guarantee of success than we had where we were. Thirdly it polarised one member of the party from the others, which was a real shame. Steve felt very strongly that he had come to do the mountain from the North Side, and he felt that to go from the South was not what he signed up for. This was due to the fact that a cable car would take us up the mountain there to the same height as we were now, 3,700m, and he felt that he didn’t want to be helped up a mountain by mechanical means.

As all this was by now going round in everyone’s heads, and no one knew what to do, Adele decided that the best way was to bring everyone together and to do this by a vote. Democracy would rule, and this seemed equitable I think to everyone, Steve included.

At about 4pm therefore, we all sat in the dining hut and all put forward our views. It was clear that the majority wanted to give themselves the best chance of standing on the summit of the mountain, and that included me, and that meant going to the South side tomorrow early on. It wasn’t a 100% yes vote, but then these sort of things rarely are. We left the hut knowing that the plan was however to do just that. Viktor made some phone calls, and we’d need to be down to Base Camp by about 11am to get minibuses back to Pyatigorsk (a four hour journey). We’d at least then be able to get cleaned up in the hotel and warm too – a nice shower after 11 days of nothing but baby wipes on the mountain was sounding extremely appealing!

In the meantime everyone occupied themselves with sorting out clothes and then also making a video! Today was Ukrainian Independence Day, and Dennis and Roxanne wanted to make a montage of everyone saying a line from some Ukrainian poem which symbolised the day. We all joined in heartily, and with the backdrop of a very windy and getting colder by the minute Elbrus, a great deal of fun and camaraderie was had.

Getting ready for Youtube filming, on our final afternoon at High Camp.

So in the evening we gathered for our last supper at High Camp, only to have another spanner thrown into the works. Without wanting to paint too much of a biased view on proceedings, it turned out that what we agreed this afternoon was no longer a done deal. Steve basically unilaterally decided that he wasn’t going to the South of the mountain and that what we were here for was the North side, and this meant we needed to go for the summit tonight! I don’t think anyone really agreed with him, but again without elaborating too much on what was said or done (although this is my blog, I don’t feel it is right to have a “he said/she said” story here without people’s right to put their sides of the story too) that was that.

Adele therefore asked who would like to go for the summit at midnight, and there were six who opted in. Dennis, Roxanne, Steve, Cormac, Hui Ling and I would have our second attempts, and the rest would wait and see the outcome, which would basically be that if we made it, the trip was over and we all came down. If we were beaten, then there would still potentially be the chance of one more go the next day depending on what time and where we didn’t make it.

With rucksacks again packed, bedtime at 8pm just didn’t feel right, and I didn’t sleep a wink. I suppose I was uncomfortable that the group was now split and that we were no longer all in this together. By 9pm, all was quiet in the hut and also outside, but this really was the calm before the storm.

By about 10.30pm, an hour or so before we were due to get up, the most incredible wind began to blow. The hut shook, and vibrated, and moved literally backwards and forwards on its rock base albeit only slightly, but it could be felt all the same. The plastic sheeting that was our roof flapped so violently that I have no idea how it stayed on, or didn’t act as a sail and send us all crashing down the mountain. It would have been impossible to sleep if you were drugged up to the eyeballs in this, and it was pretty scary at times too.

It went through my mind several times that it might be better to get out of the hut and be safer taking chances in the rocks on the mountainside in my sleeping bag, but almost before the thought had the chance to take root it was midnight, and time to go up the mountain! But surely we couldn’t, could we? Adele donned her down jacket and stepped outside and met with Viktor to assess the situation. She duly returned within about 5 minutes during which time no-one left the pretend security of their sleeping bag, and she told us that they both had been literally blown off their feet outside, and that Viktor’s hat had sailed off down the mountain. No-one was going anywhere tonight. I was secretly delighted, however much I wanted to get to the top of this mountain, as I knew it wasn’t right and wasn’t going to happen tonight.

The wind continued to bellow and blast the hut all night, and if anything it got stronger. At about 3am I just wanted the world to stop and for to be able to get off, but it wasn’t going to happen I knew that. Not being able to sleep makes me miserable, and although this was all very exciting being up the mountain and all that, you just get tired of being tired.

I think that eventually I got about an hour’s sleep of some description immediately before dawn, when the wind did eventually abate a bit. If the night before up the mountain had been horrific, then this had been 5 times worse. Elbrus wasn’t going to let us get to the summit, not from the North side, and it was time to actually accept defeat. At 6am the decision was taken to pack things up and move out asap – we were going down and moving out of here for good.

Elbrus Day 7 (22nd August)

Posted on September 11, 2014 by aquavista

So a week into our trip now, and Day 7 would see our first early start and our first proper trip up the glacier after yesterday’s preparatory glacier travel session. 6 am would come around very quickly (although we slept in slightly as Adele’s alarm failed to go off and when I nudged her at 6.10 everyone was still asleep, including her :)). The good news on looking out of the hut was that we could finally see the top of the mountain!

Elbrus reveals herself properly finally, just after sunrise. The West summit is on the right, although is actually out of view here.

This wasn’t the actual top of the mountain, as the summit is hidden from view at High Camp, but it was the closest we were going to see it from here that was for sure. In the above picture the rocks towards the East (left side) summit start at about 4,700m, and they would be our objective for the day.

By about 6.45 everyone had breakfasted and was starting to get kitted up for the trip. Breakfast was again the dreaded buckwheat, which was served like porridge but was pretty unpalatable. Jo in particular struggled to eat hers at alI, and I think most people including me put a brave face on but struggled with every mouthful.

We set off in the end at about 7.30, and as the bottom of the glacier was only 100m from camp we had crampons on almost straight away. The weather was again glorious as it had been most days so far. We started out on two ropes and then came off these at about 4,200m.

Setting off up the glacier, but where the heck did the dog come from?

Most people were fine on the ascent, but some naturally found it harder than others. Dave found it tough going, partly as he lost a water bottle half way up, and partly because this was the highest he had ever been up to at altitude. He did brilliantly though throughout considering he had never been this high before. We were also strangely followed up the mountain by a Labrador, who obviously didn’t mind the altitude, and did its best to meander between us and get in our way the whole way. I guessed it must belong to one of the various Russian climbers who were camped close to us on the rocks at High Camp. I’ve never seen a dog that high before that’s for sure.

From 4,200m we stayed off ropes so that Adele and Viktor could judge which of us were capable of summitting. We had been told that the group would be likely be split on summit night (hopefully tomorrow) depending upon the weather and how everyone was feeling. The west (true) summit, although only 21m higher than the East summit, was a further three hours, and so would only be for the fittest and fastest of the group. No-one, but no-one, wanted to go to the East Peak.

Our ten takes a well earned breather while Viktor';s team above soldiers on - the sun beats down still.

Our rope takes a well earned breather while Viktor’s team above soldiers on – the sun beats down still.

Looking back down towards High Camp from about 4,600m. If you look very closely there are climbers just starting out way down below.

Looking back down towards High Camp from about 4,600m. If you look very closely there are climbers just starting out on the glacier way down below.

Looking East towards Georgia – the pitch of the mountain was consistently steep the whole way.

As we reached the start of Lenz Rocks (4,600m) the group started fragmenting more, and also the weather turned noticeably colder. From just having one layer on, all of a sudden within 100 metres I needed three, plus gloves, hat and buff. It made me realise, as if I needed to be told, just how conditions can change on a mountain. We were also still one vertical kilometre away from what would hopefully be Sunday night/Monday morning’s destination, and I made a mental note to make sure my rucksack had as much cold weather gear in it as I had with me. This was after all the middle of the day in glorious sunshine, and we would be aiming for this part of the mountain in pre-dawn conditions, always the coldest part of the day.

We stopped at 4,800m, had a quick snack, and then soon after headed down again, our acclimatisation over for now. We could see climbers well above us at the Col at about 5,300m, and the pitch there looked really steep. I realised that this would be a really really tough summit day on a big and tough mountain. It was already harder and steeper than I had expected it to be.

Looking down towards High Camp from Lenz Rocks at 4,800m, the clouds now starting to roll in up the mountains

A we all earned breather at Lenz Rocks, 4,800m, our highest point of the day, the temperatures massively different up here.

Katherine enjoys that “yay I’m at 4,800m moment”

Everyone had made it to 4,800m, which was great, and the next time we would (hopefully) pass this spot would hopefully be on our summit attempt. The conditions had been better than perfect, and it had been a hugely successful acclimatisation walk.

The trek back down was largely uneventful, save for very close to the bottom of the glacier when I managed to trip over my crampons and fall face first onto some hard ice. I thankfully protected my face with my hands but I otherwise couldn’t really adjust the fall as we were all still roped up at the time. I came away with one badly cut finger and a few other cuts and scrapes, but thankfully nothing worse. It would have been typical for me to hurt myself by doing something careless and clumsy in such an innocuous situation by just not looking where I am going. I made a note to myself to always have gloved hands on a glacier too.

Some of the views on the way down were breathtaking, and this part of the world is surely as beautiful as anything the Alps has to offer. We could also see from here some of the views towards the south side of Elbrus, and it looked a lot more mountainous and dramatic over there. It really made me want to come back and explore more at another date, although unbeknown to me at the time, I’d be seeing more of the south side a lot sooner than I thought.

After a restful afternoon we had a debrief from Adele about what summit day would involve, and everyone generally chilled and checked kit etc. I got my cut fingers attended to by Dennis (who as a doctor had come prepared with full medical kit) and Adele, and all was fine.

Afternoon tea and a debrief of what tomorrow might bring – good hut times 🙂

So that was us acclimatised, and we would now rest our bodies and get prepared physically and mentally by doing literally as little as possible over the next 36 hours. The next day would be a complete rest day in preparation for the summit bid commencing at midnight. We’d rest until late afternoon, then sleep until 11pm, whereupon we’d have a summit breakfast before heading out for a 16/17 hour summit attempt.

We all went to bed fairly early in nervous and excited anticipation of what lay before us. It was time, almost, to step up to the highest point in all of Europe.

Elbrus Day 6 (21st August)

Posted on September 9, 2014 by aquavista

Day 6 would see us do our first crampon walking on the glacier, but would otherwise be a day for us to acclimatise at camp 2 at 3,730m. This would be our home until after summit day, which would be another 3 or 4 days potentially depending upon the weather. The accommodation was again in huts, which is at least warmer than tents, and gave us more room to sort out kit etc.

Our aim for today was firstly to collect all of our summit equipment which had been cached the day before at about 3,500m. So after a pretty reasonable sleep, and a nice breakfast of buckwheat (Jo’s favourite food, she loved it, not, closely follow by me and Cormac), and with the sun shining, we walked back down the mountain through a boulder field to where our kit was stored, hoping all the time that it was still there, as without it there would be no possibility of climbing the mountain.

Heading down the boulder field in search of hidden treasures.

Thankfully everyone found everything buried under the rocks just as it had been left, and as it had all been diligently wrapped in drybags/plastic bags it was still dry too. The walk back up to camp only took about an hour, and after lunch we went out to the glacier to make sure everything worked ok, which thankfully it did for all of us.

Everyone getting the hang of their crampons…..

A pretty chilled day all round was had.

We ascended about 300m or so in zig zags up to around 4,000m and everyone found the going pretty easy.

Looking back down the glacier towards our huts, middle left of picture.

And looking back up towards the summit, descending now towards camp.

Following this everyone chilled for the afternoon and had a few games of Mafia (a good game if you don’t know it – look it up!) before dinner and an early night. Tomorrow would be an early start for our acclimatisation walk up to around 4,800m. The weather looked promising for the morning, following which we would then have an entirely free rest day to prepare us for the summit the night after. It was getting more and more exciting by the day now……..

Elbrus Day 5 (20th August)

Posted on September 7, 2014 by aquavista

Day 5 of the trip began with the sound of torrential rain on top of the hut in base camp. This would be our second and last morning at base camp, as we would be ascending to Camp 2 (or High Camp, at 3,730m) today.

The rain had carried on all night and it seemed like it would never end. We woke up at 7, and just didn’t even want to get out of the sleeping bags. It was one of those mornings when you just don’t even want to go to the toilet. But get up we had to, as we would have to pack up all of our remaining kit that we would need for the summit, as the last time we would see base camp would be after summit day.

By the time we had got wet walking the 10 yards to the dining hut we were all fired up again, and the rain actually started to ease off a bit. We waited until about 9.30 before setting out, and everyone’s rucksacks were practically bursting, and we realised the merits of having cached so much stuff the day before, to the point that we couldn’t have got much more in this day. Jagged Globe had originally advised 45 litre rucksacks, but even with a 75 litre one I was still pushed to fit everything in.

The walk would be the same one as we did for yesterday’s cache trip, and then it was about another hour and a half from there to our hut.

Thankfully the rain held off for the vast majority of the trip, but there was the odd downpour which meant that the waterproofs stayed on for most of the way.

Hui Ling tries her best Monsters Inc impression on Adele, who seems somewhat unperturbed 🙂

The path through the boulders as the climb began to steepen….

…..and we are nearly there as the glacier finally comes into view.

Once past our cache the path steepened significantly, and with very heavy packs on it made it quite tiring. Once we had climbed for about three quarters of an hour we finally got a view of the top third of the mountain (minus the summit, which was still in cloud), which was great and really lifted my tiredness. From there the last half hour or so was an easy walk, and we reached the three huts which made up our new home for the next six days.

The glacier leading towards the summit of Elbrus – a faint trail of climbers can be seen on the way up on the left hand side.

The ‘flappy roof’ hut on the right, which housed nine of us, the kitchen hut on the left.

Once in camp we sorted ourselves into two different huts, nine of us in one, and four in the other. The hut with the four was shared initially with a number of Russian guys who looked like they were going for the summit the next day, and this would probably be the pattern for the week as to people coming and going. The rest of us tried to spread out a bit in our hut (not very difficult I can assure you), and the main challenge in there (as the rest of the week was to prove) was the nylon roof – it was very evident that if the wind blew much then it would not be very comfortable or quiet in there.

High Camp, inside the flappy roof hut – cosy at least!

A view towards the high camp toilet (left middle of shot in the distance) – a long walk in the middle of the night (which was never made to my knowledge, al fresco much easier).

We stayed around camp for the afternoon and took some pictures of what we could see of the mountain, and just generally hung around and rested. It was important just to get used to being at over 3,700m, and it was clear that just trying to move quickly could easily overexert yourself.

The views up towards the top of the mountain showed just how far we still had to go. It was upwards of 2 vertical kilometres to the top, and that would be our summit day. I recalled that I had never gone close to 2,000m of ascent in a day ever, let alone at close to 6km high. It was going to be the tallest of orders, but no-one was focussing on that for the time being.

Our first (almost) clear view of the top of the mountain. The only clear views were at about 6am as the sun rose. The summit (west peak) is hidden behind the clouds at the top right of the picture.

Hut life at 3,730m – this was our dining hut – home for all meals for the next five or more days….

Following a dinner of borsht (we got used to it, and actually it wasn’t bad at all) it was a reasonably early night for all and hopefully some sleep. Everyone was tired, but sleeping at close to 3,800m when not yet acclimatised would no doubt prove difficult.

At our briefing this evening we were told that the next day we would go an collect our mountaineering equipment from the cache down the mountain, and then get some glacier travel practice in the afternoon. It seemed all of a sudden that the really exciting part of the trip, that of getting onto Elbrus’ glacier, and upper reaches, was finally about to start. This had been months in the coming for most of us, and was at last here. The summit seemed so close now, and yet still so far……

Elbrus Day Four (19th August)

Posted on September 2, 2014 by aquavista

I woke up for what seemed to be about the fortieth time in base camp for my first full day on Elbrus. I’d had a rubbish night’s sleep, unusual for me. I don’t know whether it was the altitude (although only 2,500m) or the heat (it was still probably 20+ degrees), but in any case I tossed and turned all night. There was also a mighty storm in the middle of the night where we thought the hut was going to blow away, which all added to the drama a bit. I was glad that we weren’t in tents, and was surprised in fact to see other tents in the camp still standing in the morning.

After a very passable breakfast it was off for our caching trip. We set off just after 9, and it was a fairly easy walk for the most part. We set off on the edge of a gorge, and then past a big area known as the airfield, which was used as a German runway during WW2. From there we climbed quite steeply up towards (and for our first proper sight of) Elbrus’ glacier before heading off towards the rocks where we would hide our stuff to collect in two days time. It rained a fair bit at the start of the day, but then cleared up to be fine and warm for the most part.

The walk served two purposes, since as well as allowing us to cache our glacier equipment (ice-axes, double-plastic boots, crampons, etc.), we would be ascending to around 3,500m and then coming back down again, so being good for acclimatisation purposes.

Leaving Base Camp in the early morning rain.

Heading across the flat area known as ‘the airfield’, actually a German base during WW2. The upper reaches of Elbrus are shrouded in cloud above us.

Heading towards the rocks at 3,500m where we would cache our glacier equipment.

And the cache itself is underway……

…..and the cache is complete.

The trek up took about 3 and a half hours in total, and once the equipment was all well hidden, we set off back down the mountain via a different route, this time going via ‘mushroom rocks’. The rocks are so-called as they have eroded at the base quite significantly, and flat tops remain. They became a good stopping place for a rest and some photographs.

On the approach to Mushroom Rocks.

Climbing on top of the rocks for a better view of our surroundings.

From the rocks we all descended back to base camp for some rest and food, and then a debrief for what the next few days had in store. Tomorrow we would head out of Base Camp and move up to High Camp at 3,700m, which would be our new base for as long we stayed to attempt the summit. This would of course enable to us to acclimatise better than at Base Camp, which at 2,500m wasn’t exactly ‘at altitude’.

We then packed for the coming days, leaving anything we didn’t need for the summit in our bags at Base Camp, and carrying everything else in our rucksacks. There was still a lot of equipment to pack, and we were glad that we had cached so much earlier, and even with 75 litre rucksacks it was all still a squeeze.

Andy packing everything down (or trying to :)) into his rucksack.

Before retiring we bought access to wifi at the Camp, and looked at the weather forecast for the coming week while we would be up in High Camp. The forecast looked pretty bad, with strong winds and snow, but there was a potential weather window on Sunday, our intended summit day anyway. Mountain weather forecasts are notoriously unreliable more than a few days out, and so no-one worried unduly. Having however seen at least some of the mountain so far, and knowing that we would be faced with a 2,000m summit day, we knew that without some fair weather this mountain was not going to yield very easily.

Sleep came about much easier having had a climb to 3,500m today, and we looked forward to the days ahead with a mixture of excitement and trepidation…….

Elbrus Day Three (18th August 2014)

Posted on August 31, 2014 by aquavista

Day two started very pleasantly/slightly surreally with breakfast in the ballroom (yes really) of the Intourist Hotel. It was a good breakfast and we met some of the Jagged Globe group who had been on the previous trip there too, as they were just returning home that day. Not many of them had summited, but they seemed to have enjoyed the experience. It was suggested to me that I ‘fill my boots’ at the breakfast table, as apart from a lot of soup on the mountain, there wasn’t a lot else that was particularly fulfilling. I took note and ate as many croissants as I could get down 🙂

The somewhat overelaborate breakfast setting at the Intourist Hotel

We then set off for Base Camp on Elbrus at 8.45 in two of the oldest minibuses I have ever seen:

Our carriages await……

squeezing in the luggage – it fit, just.

There were 8 of us in one plus 5 in the other (the 11 of us plus Adele and Viktor our guides) and plus the drivers too. The heat was stifling, as the temperature was 38 degrees and the only air cooling you could get was by tying to hold part of one of the windows half open. It didn’t do much, but it was something.

The journey was about 100km in total, of which the first three hours were on fairly normal roads. At this point we got our first views of the twin peaks of Elbrus through the windows of the minibus. It looked monstrous from even this far out. Every picture I have seen online of Elbrus just doesn’t do it justice, as when you see it in the flesh you realise how massive and also steep it’s upper slopes are. It made me nervous already, but very excited at the same time.

The mighty (and that’s an understatement) Elbrus comes into view finally.

Having turned off the main road the driver got out and pulled a lever on the front of the van which I think adjusted either the drive or the differential. Either way I still couldn’t believe the rutted track he started driving up. “Ridiculous” doesn’t do it justice, the van pitching from side to side like a small boat being tossed around on a stormy sea.

To make this part of the journey even more exciting the road was only just as wide as the van, and there was a precipitous drop off the left hand side, which would have meant that one slip of the wheels and we would never have been seen again, or not alive anyway. I only wish I could have taken a photo, but, I didn’t dare lose my grip from the side of the seat and the handle in front of me lest I find myself upside down.

When we eventually got across this pass, we could see base camp finally come into view. This was such a relief as it meant that we could get out of the van shortly, but the drama wasn’t over quite yet. As we approached about half a mile from base camp, with the tents in sight, it became obvious to our driver (who had got out of the van by this time and was looking a bit concerned) that the fast flowing river between us and camp was too deep for the van to get through. We would all therefore have to get out and walk.

Base camp comes into view at 2,500m on Elbrus – that river down there is also the road however….

There was a bridge about half a mile downstream where we could get over on foot (albeit somewhat precariously, as it was a rope bridge below which the torrential melt water from the glacier was gushing by). The vans then disappeared upstream somewhere where presumably they could cross more easily without the encumbrance of 8 or so people. The crossing was great fun in the end and we were able to get to the other side safely, and were met by the vans to continue our journey into base camp.

Andy didn’t seem to be too phased by the bridge 🙂

We were in camp by about 1 O’ Clock, and shown to our hut. We had expected to be in two man tents, so the hut was a nice surprise, although it meant that there would be 8 people in our hut (one for the boys one for the girls) which would make it rather warm. This meant my nice new -29 C sleeping bag was not going to get much of a work out, but better too warm than too cold when you are in the mountains.

Elbrus Base Camp, north side – the boys’ hut is on the left, number 5.

After lunch (our first soup!) we went out on a walk for a couple of hours just to get the legs moving again. The walk was really nice, with views of an albeit very cloudy Elbrus, and we went down the valley and then up again. We came upon a load of tents a little way down towards the river, and when there, we were told by Viktor that the waters down here are alleged to have healing properties. There was a small outdoor ‘spa’ which was packed (and I mean packed) with hairy-arsed (not that I looked that closely :)) Russian men, and the only thing more surprising than this was the fact that Viktor went down and stripped off and jumped in himself.

Glacial meltwater pours through an opening in the rocks above us….

The campsite down the valley which brought masses of people to the ‘healing’ springs….

….and the ‘spa’ to which they flocked. It was a little too ‘cosy’ in there for me to go anywhere near!

Upon getting back to camp at about 5 or so it was time nearly for dinner, whereupon we would get our briefing from Adele for the next day. There would be a change to the proposed itinerary, and instead of spending three days here at Base Camp there would be just two. At 2,500m or so, Adele felt that we needed to move higher earlier in order to acclimatise for the later stages of the mountain.

The next camp was at 3,700m, and we would move there the day after tomorrow. In the meantime we would have to cache our mountaineering equipment tomorrow on an acclimatisation walk to about 3,500m. We were about to travel true ‘expedition-style’, which was a first for me – there are no porters or animals to help you on Elbrus – you take what you need, and carry it yourself, in as many goes as it requires to get you up the mountain.

So we had only just arrived here, and had already had an amazing adventure, seeing and experiencing so much. I couldn’t wait to get higher, and start to explore and see the upper reaches of the mountain – with good weather and good acclimatisation, we could potentially be on the summit inside the next five days………….

Elbrus Day One/Two (16th/17th August 2014)

Posted on August 30, 2014 by aquavista

The first day (and night) of the Elbrus trip was basically all taken up with travelling. Oh and packing, and of course faffing. I am a terrible last minute faffer when it comes to travelling generally, but worse still when it comes to trips to the mountains. I feel the need to pack and unpack several times, despite the fact that my kit has been laid out in order for several days and ticked off a list.

I also find that I have the need to buy things last minute. I will look at the “recommended things to take” some weeks in advance, and know that some things I must have, and others are at best superfluous. I then find myself in a last minute flap when I simply must have those items on the last day.

Take today for example. A matter of hours before I leave for the airport I am buying a silk sleeping bag liner and an insulated tube for my Camelbak. Oh and a half litre flask that I know I will probably never carry, let alone even use. And cords for my sunglasses that I don’t like, and don’t even fit.

Oh and I bought a new down jacket just in case it fitted better into my rucksack than my other one that I bought last year and have never worn. I put neither of them into my bag in the end – just a waste of time and my money. Memo to self – be less wasteful in future 😦

So anyway, on to the travelling. Day one was basically for the group to meet at Heathrow and get to Russia. The flight was Aeroflot to Moscow, and then from Moscow to Mineralne Vody (which translates to ‘Mineral Waters’). We would then meet our group leader, Britain’s only female multiple Everest climber Adele Pennington, in Mineralne Vody the next day. The first flight to Moscow went at 22.15, so it was destined to be a long day and night.

We met at 7pm or so at Heathrow, and we were 11 people in total. Andy and Cormac I had met before at the pre-Elbrus weekend in Snowdonia in June. It was really good to see them again. Then there was Dave, Steve, Dennis and Roxanne, Hui Ling, Jo, and Paul and Katherine. You sort of know when it is going to be a good group, and it was going to be a really good group.

After what seemed to be an interminably long check in, eventually all went smoothly from there, and after a swift glass of wine or two we were on our way. Moscow arrived at 5am in the morning after adding the three hour time difference, and after an almost four hour layover we were on our way to Mineralne Vody, a further two and a half hour flight due south towards the Caucasus mountains, our ultimate destination.

The only shop in Mineralne Vody airport, selling caviar – what else?!

Upon meeting Adele, who was there at the airport to meet us, and Viktor, our local guide, we set off in one small minibus and a taxi. It was sweltering, at a somewhat unexpected 36 degrees C, and air conditioned vehicles are not something I think much seen in these parts of Russia. I had at least arrived in shorts, but it was quite frankly just too hot to be outside whatever you had on.

We checked into the Intourist Hotel in Pyatigorsk, about two hours later, and were just happy to be there, even as hot as it was. What with uncertainties over the Russian/Ukrainian crisis, and a day and night of travelling involving all manner of planes, trains and automobiles, it was great to have all the luggage intact too, particularly as I had spent about £1,000 on my last minute kit shenanigans, including a super warm sleeping bag that would be great for the arctic circle, but probably would boil me alive down here.

The Intourist Hotel, Pyatigorsk – not the prettiest sight in the world, and a case of ‘function over form’ for the most part.

Mine and Paul’s room at the Intourist Hotel, basic, but clean enough, just 🙂

Having got ourselves sorted into our rooms etc., everyone headed out into town to get lunch and buy water and a few snacks for the days ahead. A pizza lunch and (sadly) warm beer over, everyone then headed back to sort out kit etc. for the next day. We would leave anything that we didn’t need for the mountain in the hotel, and pack everything else ready for our departure south to the mountains the next morning.

A view over Pyatigorsk from the third floor of our hotel.

Pyatigorsk seemed like quite a nice place, and certainly prettier than I had feared. This being my first trip to Russia, I had expected something more austere, but throughout the trip it was more affluent, more colourful, more friendly, and just generally ‘nicer’ than I expected it to be. On the flip side of that I saw more military checkpoints and machine guns than I had bargained for too, but more of that in a later post.

In the evening Viktor took us to a local restaurant, and we all got to have a few beers and a general unwind before the ‘real’ trip started the next day.

The group chill over beer and way too many herbs for dinner.

On our way back finally to the hotel something quite strange and almost magical happened. We were walking through a park approaching the hotel, when as we got near a large series of water fountains it became clear that there were literally hundreds of people gathered. Then, over loudspeakers unseen, the sound of classical music began, whereupon to coloured lighting in both the trees and the fountains themselves, the waters danced a coordinated song to the music of Strauss! It was mesmeric, and quite beautifully done.

Fountain music – a completely unexpected, and actually delightful, surprise.

I stood transfixed, and grinning from ear to ear, as a large crowd, young and old, late at night, enjoyed the majesty and simplicity of the spectacle in front of them. This was something that would not occur back home in the UK – it was almost too cultural if you like. I decided that I already loved Russia, and realised that experiences like this, whilst unplanned, were very much part of why I love travelling and going to new places in the first place.

Back finally at the hotel, and it still being about 30 degrees outside, sleep was not terribly easy to come by (air conditioning being as missing in the hotel as it was in the minibus earlier), but eventually it did, as we were all really tired from having not been to bed the night before. It would not by any means be the last loss of night’s sleep to come on this trip, and the adventures ahead of us would start to properly unfold the next day. We were ready – it was time – we were finally here.

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"To travel, to experience and learn, that is to live……" {Sherpa Tensing Norgay}

Category Archives: Elbrus