Saturday, 17 October 2026

 

Start: Astrakhan (RU) 8:20

Arrival: Grozny (RU) 16:15 / 15:15 in Grozny

 

Total: 474 km

 

 

 

The Volga fans out into a huge delta near Astrakhan. Driving over the bridge this morning and seeing the river go on and on beneath you was quite impressive. The road south leads through innumerable villages in the river's wetlands. October is too late to see the pink lotus blossoms, but along the roadside, there is a lot more reed than lotus anyway. Still I much prefer the marshes of the Volga delta to the endless flat sand and dust plains further south.

 

On the outskirts of Astrakhan, we found a gas station that carried 95 petrol. All set for today's long drive, we turned to the next task: how to find the road to the southern Caucasus republics. The GPS signal was scrambled again, but Sonia soon found back to her old routine of reading our online map like an old-fashioned paper map. Who cared whether Google thought that we were currently in Nigeria or Volgograd (yep, we saw our blue location dot in both places today!), we had eyes to match the squiggle on the screen to the actual bend in the road. No biggie.

 

 

 

At 10:45, we reached the border to Dagestan, one of several Caucasus republics within the Russian Federation. The border guard stopped most trucks and several buses and cars, but waved us through. "We look innocent", I said. "We ARE innocent", my sister corrected me. Well, yes, of course we are.

 

After the internal border, all the gas stations suddenly had 95 petrol on offer, but the roads sadly became much worse. Village life seemed more Central Asian as well. Women in long robes and headscarves sitting on drab porches, stalls selling various stuff along the road, run-down chaihanas. We almost felt like being back in Uzbekistan. Correct in more ways than one, as I would soon find out.

 

 

We had just crossed a busy junction at the entrance to a small town when a policeman stopped our car and waved us over. He asked for my documents and told me to get out of the car. Then he showed me his cell phone: a picture of our car crossing the junction, with a red light in the background. My eyes widened. "That light was not red!" Well, the picture showed it was. He motioned for me to get into a small booth: a desk, him and an another policeman sitting, me standing crammed behind them. His colleague blabbed something at me in a pretty loud voice. I'm sorry? "You don't understand Russian", he asked and repeated his blurb even louder: "Straf! You understand? You burned a red light. You will go before a judge. Understand? They will take your driver's licence. No driving for three months in Russia!" "Ok, I understand." I spoke slowly, I really didn't want my voice to shake. "So, you pay or to the judge?" Huh? What did he mean? "Straf!" He shouted even louder. Yeah, ok, I got it. "I will of course pay the fine," I tried to defuse the situation. This was bad. If they really suspended my licence, Sonia would have to drive for the last 500 kilometres in Russia. Last thing I wanted was a legal hassle keeping us from driving on. "If you go to the judge, it will take days." Great. No use arguing with the powers-that-be, so I said: "The law is the law. What are the next steps?" I pointed to the form his colleague was busy filling in. They stared at me. "You pay?" he asked. "Of course, just give me the ticket." The bigmouth leaned back: "How much dollar do you earn?" "Excuse me?" "How much?" "None of your business." "I'm curious." "3000", I lied." We both knew that I earned a lot more than he anyway. "I earn 1000", he replied. Yes, life is unfair. I relaxed marginally. He just wanted money! Yes, sometines, I'm a bit thick. "Can I have my penalty notice," I said, a lot testier now. "You are from Luxembourg. A long way. Alone?" My heart raced even faster, this was so annoying. "No, with my sister." He relaxed. Sister sounds better than husband, it seems. "She can drive too", I added, smiling sweetly. "My penalty notice, now, please." "The judge will keep you in Russia. You know what the courts are like in Russia?" Did he have to shout like that? "Yes, ok, it's the law. It's ok. Give me that ticket." His colleague stared at me. What? "Give us money", he spelled it out for me. "Yes, I will, as soon as you give me the ticket." He shook his head, handed me my documents and said: "Go." I shook my head and pointed at the form he had filled out. "Law is law. The ticket." He bawled at me: "Go!"

 

Badly shaking inwardly, I climbed out of their booth. The bigmouth laughed loudly at my back. I never understood why people laugh when they are afraid. I become seethingly angry instead. Much more useful, in my opinion. "Did you get a ticket?" Sonia asked, when I got back. "No." I started the car. "They wanted money." "What! Corruption! I knew it! You didn't burn that light. It was behind you. Our light was still green when we crossed." I tried to breathe evenly as I manoeuvred the car back into the street. "Did you give them money?" I shook my head. Sonia nodded grimly: "That's my sis! I'm so proud of you." I smiled lopsided. "It took me forever to understand what they wanted. They were annoying." "He wanted to intimidate you." Well, he went about it the wrong way.

 

While we were still discussing the failed bribery attempt, a soldier stepped into the street and waved me to the side. Not again! This time though, it was a legit counterterrorism roadcheck. They were very polite and by-the-book. We had to lug two of our suitcases to an X-ray machine. Later, when we hauled them back into the car, I saw the young soldier again, standing at the curb, machine gun at the ready. "Have a safe trip", he said. "Thank you. You be safe too", I answered. He smiled, surprised. "Thank you."

 

 

 

 

Soon after, we crossed from Dagestan into the Chechen Republic. Bad roads like before, but the houses were nicer and every fifty metres or so, a roadsign displayed a part of the Muslim prayer. From one end of the republic to the other, the same words on a loop. On the long run, it was a bit repetitive. As a language buff, I was eager to see a few sentences in the Chechen language. Strangely, all the billboards and advertisements were only in Russian. Not even a few token words. Or maybe I just didn't see or recognize them. In any case, it was slightly disappointing.

 

 

 

 

The capital of Chechnya, Grozny, lies a little bit up in the mountains. What a pleasure to drive up a hill again! It's quite an impressive city with tall towers and large new boulevards. Anticipating a late arrival, we had booked us into a place right next to the main park. The hotel was located in a gated street, opposite the presidential residence. We idly wondered whether Ramzan might be home? We didn't spot him in persona, but his effigy was plastered all over the city, from billboards to the coffee mugs in the souvenir shops.

 

 

The receptionist in our hotel spoke very good English. I had requested a room on the lowest floor. "Floor 16?" he proposed. Sonia categorically shook her head. After a lengthy search, he somehow found us a free room on the sixth floor. Much better. We threw our bags onto the bed and set out to see the much-vaunted flower park. Behind me, you see our hotel, dwarfing the three other highrises next to it. For someone who us afraid of heights, I'm inordinately fond of tall buildings.

 

Although Chechnya lies thousands of kilometres to the east of Luxembourg, the clocks are set only one hour earlier there. Which leads to the sun already disappearing over the horizon around five in the afternoon. We practically ran down the street to profit from the remaining hour of sunlight.

 

 

The aptly-named flower park is probably at its best in summer, when all the flowers are in bloom. But even so, it was a beautiful and original place. Hundreds of heart-shaped objects decorated the park, a declared homage to love and family ties. Young couples sat on the benches, children ran around, busloads of tourists filled the narrow lanes. Grozny wants to make a name for itself as a safe and original tourist magnet and judging by the droves of visitors walking around till late at night, it has succeeded.

 

 

Next to the flower park was a busy funfair. I spotted an Avengers show in 13D. I remember a time, long long ago, when 3D shows were a novel thing. Since then, string theory seems to have unfurled a few more dimensions in our otherwise boring world. We didn't go in to check out its Hilbert space though.

 

 

By now we were getting hungry. I had found a promising restaurant with good ratings on Google Maps, so we set out due southeast. Only to be forced time and again to make a detour because of some gate or enclosure or other obstacle. I felt transported back to Yekaterinburg! After running around for the best part of an hour, we decided that this restaurant probably did not exist anymore. Google Maps was hopelessly out-of-date in this fast-changing part of the world. So we finally settled on the Villa, a Turkish restaurant next to the funpark. Best decision ever! Great food and fresh juices, the waiters all spoke English, and the balloon-shaped naan was heavenly!

 

 

After dinner, we strolled some more through the park. Like so many southern cities, Grozny seemed to come to life at night. All the ice cream stalls and souvenir shops were open until late, and it was a pleasure to look at the knick-knacks on display, as no one harrassed you to buy anything. The light shows on the stately buildings made for a beautiful backdrop too.

 

 

We slowly walked back to our hotel. One last picture from the hotel parking lot, with the Ahmet Kadyrov mosque, also known as The Heart of Chechnya, in the background. Granted, one evening is not nearly enough to get to know a city, but it gives you a much better idea about a place than just hearing about it in the news.