Leaving Khasavyurt

I woke up at 6:30 a.m. and had breakfast with Ruslan before preparing to leave. By 8:30, Mama was ready to accompany me to Makhachkala. The morning was calm, with a pale blue sky stretching over the plains as we rode out. We reached the city around 10:00 a.m. and said goodbye on the shoulder of the road before parting ways.

From there, I continued alone toward Derbent, where Agarsa — the contact Nikolai had given me back in Volgograd — was waiting. He arrived around 12:30 p.m., and by 2:00 p.m., we set off to wash the bike and grab a bite to eat before visiting the Lun ekranoplane, a unique Soviet-era ground-effect vehicle that looks like a massive airplane skimming the water. It was designed to travel just above the Caspian Sea, and seeing it stranded on the beach was surreal, like a ghost of a bygone era.

Sunset Over Naryn-Kala

Later in the afternoon, we went up to the Naryn-Kala Citadel, Derbent’s ancient fortress dating back over 2,000 years. Its walls and towers have witnessed countless empires and battles, making it one of the oldest fortifications in the region. We climbed to the viewing platform to watch the sun set over the city and the Caspian Sea. The view was incredible — terracotta rooftops fading into gold and the waves catching the last light.

As dusk settled, we rode down to the city center, wandered through the fountain gardens, and went for a short motorcycle ride along the quiet streets. At one point, I noticed the taillight bulb had come loose again. When I fixed it, I realized the filament in the parking light was broken. While taking a short break, I walked down to the Caspian shoreline to dip my hands in the water — cold and dark, with the faint reflection of distant lights shimmering on the surface.

Happy People Street and a Curious “Hot Spring”

Later, we met Agarsa’s nephew on Happy People Street, where we decided to change our evening plans and visit some nearby hot springs after dinner. Agarsa had already brought me something to eat while I was working on the light, but my stomach didn’t feel quite right. Around 10:00 p.m., we set out — though it turned out not to be a proper hot spring, but rather a metal pipe jutting from the ground, spitting out water mixed with natural gas. The gas burned at the surface, keeping the water warm. We got in for about fifteen minutes — the metallic-tasting water and soft hiss of the flames creating an oddly surreal scene. By 11:30 p.m., we were back in town, tired but amused.

A Slow Morning in Derbent

I woke up early, even though the room didn’t face outside. It wasn’t necessary — the city moves slowly in the morning, and most shops don’t open before 10:00. Agarsa, his wife Raya, and I had breakfast together before heading out at 9:30 a.m. to run some errands and drop Raya off at work.

We found the replacement bulb surprisingly quickly — it turned out to be a standard car bulb, nothing special. I had never replaced one before and assumed it would be a more complicated part to find. Before leaving Derbent, we went once more to the beach to dip our feet in the Caspian — this time under full daylight.

Agarsa noticed that my boots were torn and sighed that I hadn’t mentioned it earlier; they could have repaired them easily. The truth is, they’ve been like that since before I left Mongolia. I never got around to fixing them — partly out of carelessness, partly because of money. I had two perfect chances, once in Yekaterinburg and again in Volgograd. Especially in Yekaterinburg, where I could have asked Artiëm to help arrange it among the other expenses.

Back to Makhachkala

I finally left Derbent around 11:30 a.m. and arrived in Makhachkala at 2:00 p.m. Mama met me around half an hour later, and together we went for a walk around the city. We visited two viewpoints — the first on a hill at the edge of the city, overlooking the border of the next region, and the second closer to the center, at the foot of a hill facing the sea. Both offered sweeping views of the city and the Caspian coastline, giving a sense of how the city stretches along the shore.

By the time we got to her house, the streets were packed with rush-hour traffic. Dinner was already being prepared, and a few of her friends — all retired police officers — joined us for the evening. They left around 8:30 p.m., and after watching a few videos from my channel on TV, we turned in around 10:30 p.m., the hum of the city still drifting faintly through the open window.