Is It Safe to Travel Dagestan? Or Stupid?

Every time I told a new person that I planned to travel Dagestan during our school holidays, I had to digest their expression and ask myself, again, “What’s the difference between being stupid and being brave?”

It was clear what everyone else thought of my plan.

“Oh, you’re so brave,” they’d say, not being very good liars. “Just, you know, be careful.”

Dagestan is not a safe place to travel, if you listen to official sources, which is why I was very careful about when and how I revealed my travel plans to my parents. The US State Department website warns against traveling to Dagestan, and my Russia Lonely Planet guide explains in great detail why it refuses to cover it and Chechnya in their 2012 edition. An Islamic republic in Russia’s North Caucasus region, Dagestan has been plagued with just about as much violence and terror as its more infamous neighbor, Chechnya. People kept telling me that radicalization has motivated hundreds of people to join ISIS in the Middle East and that Russia doesn’t seem too sad about letting them go.

But people weren’t worried about me getting caught into a shoot out or blown up in a terrorist attack. They were worried I’d be kidnapped and made into a mountain man’s wife.

“Well,” I’d reply. “My family is kind of wondering when I’ll settle down.”

If you’re looking for practical travel tips for Dagestan, please peruse this table of contents. Otherwise, stick around for the story. 

My attitude was not appreciated.

I thought everyone was over-reacting. They had to be, a little bit, right? I tried to do some research, but information on traveling to Dagestan is pretty scarce. It’s not on any travel publication’s “EXCITING PLACES TO GO IN 2018!!!” lists. So how did it get on mine?

Instagram.

I had other plans for our school holidays, plans that involved Georgia and mountains and cocktails with old friends (bartenders). And then we weren’t sure my long-term visa was going to be processed in time, and flight prices shot up. I realized I could still get at the Caucasus Mountains, just from the other side. Murad and Nataly of #followmeto fame had just posted a few pictures from their Dagestan campaign, and I was hooked. I was still pretty cautious at that time, and Dagestan was tacked on as just a few days at the end of a Sochi trip. But the more research I did, the more my scope narrowed, until Dagestan took up my entire vacation.

Planning went poorly. Search ‘travel Dagestan’ and you’ll mostly get articles at least five years old, extolling the wonders of Dagestan while warning people to stay away.

Unhelpful, and kind of rude to be honest.

People tried to help. They piled advice and concern on me.

“Check in every few days,” my Australian flatmate said.

“Do you have a hijab?” a male friend asked.

“Hide your beauty,” one parent of a student generously said to me.

“Better to hide your silliness,” my colleague muttered.

“Tell people you have syphilis,” a Russian friend of a friend advised.

Again, unhelpful and kind of rude.

Eventually I connected with some amazing women, Dagestanis and other solo female travelers who had been to the region recently. Four days out from my trip, I finally had a basic plan and loads of confidence.

Which all evaporated one night at home.

The kitchen was full when I got home that evening, two days before my trip. My French flatmate and his Russian girlfriend had invited a Russian friend over for dinner, and my Australian flatmate had joined them. I had popped in for a few minutes just to say hi and then went back to my evening routine, but soon I heard they discussing my upcoming trip through the closed door.

“It’s a stupid idea,” the Russian friend said, “And she’s stupid to try it.”

I came back into the kitchen. He smiled, clearly having baited me into joining them. I don’t know what their goal was, thirty-six hours before my flight was set to depart, but the conversation was anything but uplifting.

“I’ve been many places in Russia,” my Australian flatmate said. “I will not go to Dagestan.”

“Why are you even going?” the lovingly abrasive Russian friend demanded. “What could you possibly know about Dagestan?”

My French flatmate was quiet for most of the torrent of criticism and advice. When there was finally a pause, he turned to me and said, “Amy. The world is not your oyster.”

My excitement trickled away, anxiety rising to take its place.

Why are you even going?

I arrived at the airport with this question thrumming in my head. I stuffed it down as I went through security, met up with a friend for a coffee before her flight to Georgia, trying not to feel glum about the amazing carefree trip she was about to have. I paced the airport, staring at the women at my gate as I passed, analyzing how they were dressed. Some older ladies were wearing calf-length skirts and I spotted a few headscarves casually thrown on, but the majority of the women were dressed in typical modern fashion.

On the plane I tried to sleep through my anxiety, but my helpful neighbor poked me when the flight attendants brought around sandwiches. I turned to my book, reading feverishly, trying to stop the accusing mantra, Why are you even going?

Why was I going? I was a woman, traveling alone, not speaking the language, in a place with a history of violence against women. If I had wanted mountains, there were plenty of safer, more tourist-friendly places in Russia. Sochi was just a few hundred kilometers away. And sure, I wanted off-the-beaten trail, but I didn’t need to go into a potential terrorist zone to do that. It was a little extreme of me. Was I stupid to travel to Dagestan?

The cabin bell dinged to signal our initial descent, and I looked out the window. It was flat and brown. Great, I thought. I was risking kidnapping and assault to tour around the Russian equivalent of Kansas.

But then the plane banked, and I saw the mountains.

It wasn’t a strikingly impressive range, just a wall of – again, brown – mountains slightly dusted with snow. But mountains are adventure. They are the unknown. I could see the entire expanse of Dagestan running up to those mountains. But then, the mystery begins. And I’m not talking about the Smokeys or the Adirondacks, where the biggest surprise will be a beautiful view or an unfortunate new trail buddy. In this part of the world, the mountains shelter all sorts of secrets. Ethnic minorities safeguarding cultural secrets. Mountain fields traversed by free ranging horse and cattle. Ancient stone structures which look straight out of Lord of the Rings.

My week in Dagestan was everything and nothing. It was being stopped at the bus station for my papers and then getting an armed escort to my bus. It was reading three books in record time because I had no one to talk to. It was petting free ranging horses on a mountainside. It was watching Harry Potter dubbed into Russian in my hotel room because there’s nothing to do after dark. It was commiserating with my Dagestani host mom via Google Translate about the lack of good men, anywhere. It was sticking out in my conservative floor-length skirt because no one told me pink was not a color option. It was drinking local cognac and putting the last few lines in my travel journal while watching dusk settle over the Caspian Sea. It was a hundred tiny little memories that won’t make much sense to anyone but me.

But it took me a few days to be honest with myself about why I had come to Dagestan. It took a few days because I wanted to feel safe, to feel like I would make it out of the region with a few stories, none of them too bad to tell my mom. Because the honest truth of it was, I came to Dagestan because people say it is dangerous. I came to push myself, to move beyond the easy. It’s getting harder and harder to find ways to get out of my comfort zone. The hike in Svaneti did it, for sure, but your average move abroad or week-long holiday is, at this point, typical for me. I came to see if what people said was true, and I came to see if I could survive it if it was.

There were a few words I used to love as a teenager, back in that time of life when you obsess about weird things way more than you can afford to as an adult. And one of those words was ‘moxie.’ I loved it. I loved the way it sounded, how it looked, what it represented. I wanted it as a pen name. I wanted it people to use it when describing me. I wanted to be bold and outrageous and unfettered. If you had moxie, you were indomitable.

I don’t feel indomitable now. There are so few chances to show moxie in day-to-day life. I can show grit and savvy and spontaneity — not that I always do, but at least there are those opportunities in a city like Moscow. But I rarely get to show moxie. In the midst of work obligations and life planning and student loan payments and Pilates on Mondays and Wine Wednesdays on… well, Wednesday, it’s easy to feel tamed and trapped. And I wonder, do I have moxie at all?

So maybe that’s why I travel these days. To be bold. Perhaps a little bit reckless. To find a way to surprise myself and occasionally others. To escape the grasp of life’s obligations and defend the claim to my own life. To proudly declare, I said I would do it and I did it.

Dare me again.

Maybe it’s a bit selfish, traveling this way, but I don’t think so. Because when I come back, I have something to say to those people who refuse to go.

The other night I was at a friend’s birthday party, chatting with a few Russians. I mentioned that I had spent my holiday in Dagestan, and one of the girl’s mouths dropped open.

“Wow, I’m surprised you’re even with us,” she said. And it made me think of my flatmate’s friend, taunting me before my trip.

What do you even know about Dagestan?

Maybe I don’t know a lot, it’s true. But I guarantee that now it’s more than she does.

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How to Get to Dagestan

You can fly into Makhachkala, the regional capital, from Moscow and other major cities. There is also a Moscow-Makhachkala train, but you’re looking at about twenty-four hours on a bunk. Marshrutkas run east-west, if you’re interested in connecting to Chechnya or Sochi. It’s also possible to drive over the border with Georgia if you’re a third-country citizen.

How to Get to Makhachkala from the Airport

When you are going from Makhachkala airport to the city center, get a taxi via the Yandex app. A taxi is the best (maybe the only) way to get from the airport to the center, but the guys waiting outside the… well, I wouldn’t call it a terminal… the arrival door will gleefully overcharge you. The first guy quoted me 1000 rubles, but I ended up going with a guy who charged me 800. I only remembered Yandex when I was in the cab already, but I did a quick price comparison – it would have been under 500 rubles for a Yandex.

Safety Tips for Dagestan

Considering everything I had heard about Dagestan, I was extremely cautious. Probably overly so, but here are things I did to stay safe while solo traveling in Dagestan.

• Dressed the part. Well, I tried at least. Blending in is often the first step to avoiding unwanted attention, so I packed conservative clothes (more on that below).
• Avoided speaking English too loudly. Speaking anything except Russian and the local languages will immediately draw attention to you. It’s not always bad attention, as some people were just genuinely curious about why I had come to Dagestan, but it was still attention.
• Stayed inside after dark. Well, at the very least, I was usually back in my hotel room in Makhachkala and Derbent before 8pm. There were often people still out, but I just didn’t want to be in a bad situation when it was dark out.
• Traveled during the day. While it meant traveling slower,
• Avoided groups of men. There was once or twice in the cities when I crossed the street to avoid walking through a group of men.
• Avoided offers of hospitality. I like saying ‘yes’ when I travel and I’m inspired by people who have amazing adventures because they’re open and eager to accept hospitality. But in Dagestan I tried to avoid the topic even coming up. I didn’t really get any offers anyway, because I kept to myself and didn’t speak the language. If any had come, I would have politely deflected.
• Used an app to order taxis. Yandex works fine in Makhachkala and was definitely needed to get to and from the bus stations.

Language in Dagestan

Dagestan is an ethnically diverse region, with a dozen official languages. The host family I stayed with in Gunib was Avar, and the Avarski language is vastly different from Russian. Russian is the lingua franca, but you will be hard pressed to find people who speak English, even in Makhachkala. That being said, it’s not impossible to travel in Dagestan if you don’t know Russian. I just know a few key phrases and I was still able to travel using local transport, hold small conversations with my host family, and even withdraw money from Western Union.

Police Checkpoints in Dagestan

You will encounter police checkpoints in Dagestan, so be prepared. I only encountered them at Makhachkala’s bus stations, but depending on where you’re traveling you might run into others. The police will ask for your documents and inquire about where you are going. They will most likely not speak English, so it’s best to either have a few phrases memorized or have Google Translate at the ready.

Special Permits to Travel in Dagestan

As long as you have a Russian visa (which… you have to), you do not need any other special permits to travel in Dagestan – as long as you don’t wander too close to the border with Georgia. Crossing the border itself is, as I understand, not a big deal. But if you plan on hiking it or traveling near the border in remote areas, please do additional research to see what kind of permits you might need.

What to Wear in Dagestan

If you’re a solo female traveler in Dagestan, you’re probably concerned with what to pack. Yes, Dagestan is an Islamic region, but I found most of the advice people gave me was overly conservative. Here’s what I noticed:

In Makhachkala, probably half of the women were wearing headscarves, though they knotted them in a variety of ways. Mostly they wore skirts, from half-calf to ankle-length. Women who weren’t wearing headscarves wore their skirts a little shorter, but still we’re talking about cutting off at the knees. Usually skirts were simply cut and in dark colors – I don’t know if it’s just because it was winter and there are certain fashion rules to follow, but I for sure felt out of place with my dusky pink, fashionably-pleated floor-length skirt. About a quarter of the women wore pants. There were no plunging necklines.

In Makhachkala I wore baggy jeans and blank pants and conservative tops. I did not wear a headscarf. I think I blended in reasonably well, except I wore hiking shoes the entire time.

In Derbent it was similar, though I felt like it was even more relaxed. The only reason I could hazard why was that perhaps it’s not a hub for travelers from the mountain villages.

In Gunib women definitely dressed more conservatively. Almost everyone wore a headscarf, though I saw one or two younger women without one. Here it was mostly ankle or floor length skirts. However, other tourists didn’t seem to try too hard to blend in, and I didn’t feel like any women were going to harass me if I hadn’t covered my hair. Still, since I was traveling alone, when I was in the mountains I wore skirts if I was going to be in villages and had a scarf ready to throw over my hair.

What to Do in Dagestan

Makhachkala is the region’s capital and the biggest city in Dagestan. I wouldn’t recommend spending a lot of time here, but it’s worth a day. You can visit the Grand Mosque, if you want to really absorb the Islamic culture of the region. Dip your toes in the Caspian Sea (though I wouldn’t say it’s a beach destination). But my favorite thing I did in Makhachkala was wander the market, Tsum Rynok (ЦУМ РЫНОК). Piles of candy and nuts, towers of glowing honey jars, bushes of leafy greens. Little cafes lined the outskirts and a woman dragged around a cart with big pots calling out lunch. It’s also a great place to pick up a headscarf if you’d like one.

Derbent is also a big destination in Dagestan because of its history. It claims to be the oldest continually inhabited city in Russia and is home to a UNESCO World Heritage fortress. To be honest, I found the whole place underwhelming. Worth a stop, if you have the time, but I wouldn’t devote a lot of time to it. It’s about 2-3 hours from Makhachkala via marshrutka, so you could even do it as a day trip if you are organized enough to leave early-ish in the morning.

But, considering the name Dagestan comes from the Turkish word “dağ” (mountain) and the Persian word “stan” (land), the best thing to do is head to the mountains. I based myself in Gunib because it seemed like a great location to base myself for nearby sights. In Gunib you should definitely either hike or hire a jeep to go to the mayak (маяк), a fantastic viewpoint from which to see the surrounding area. There are also free ranging herds of horses and really hairy buffalo type animals, which makes it feel a bit like you’ve slipped away from the modern world entirely.

Also nearby is Gamsutl (Гамсутль), an abandoned village crowning a mountaintop. It’s ancient, thousands of years old, but was abandoned because… well, it’s on the top of a mountain. The roofs have all caved in and the walls have crumbled. One solitary man lived here by himself for a while, but now he’s gone as well. Walking around feels like exploring ruins in Lord of the Rings.

Chokh (Чох) is a picturesque village on the way to Gamsutl from Gunib. We stopped just for a photo, though I know some tours spend more time there. I’m not sure if there’s anything worth poking around to see, but the vista of the village itself is charming.

Other places to check out that I didn’t have time for are Saltinskiy Vodopad (Салтинский Водопад), which is a waterfall in a cave, and Sulakskiy Kanon (Сулакский каньон). Shalbuzdag (Шалбуздаг) also looks like a stunning region, but I have no idea about the logistics or practicality of traveling there.

Apparently Dagestan is not a great place for winter sports, at least not where I was in Gunib. The region is so sunny it rarely snows, and when it does it doesn’t stick around. There are ski resorts in the North Caucasus, but they are more inland.

Where to Stay in Dagestan

100% you should stay at a guesthouse in Dagestan, as it’s a wonderful way to connect with the local people and learn more about what life is really like in Dagestan. I was recommended Guesthouse Berezka (Гостевой Дом Берёзка) in Gunib and I had a great time. Kebed, the owner, arranged for me to take a shared taxi from Makhachkala to Gunib and he arranged everything else for me during my stay. I felt very well taken care of there, especially as a woman alone. His family was very kind, and his wife is a super cook. Another reason why I suggest staying in a guesthouse – it’s a great way to sample Dagestani food. You can get in touch with Kebed via WhatsApp/calling (988) 782-29-55 or through Instagram.

In Makhachkala I recommend staying close to the waterfront or along Ulitsa Yaragskogo. You can check out the best prices for Makhachkala hotels here.

Derbent is pretty small and therefore it doesn’t really matter too much where you stay. I stayed near the bus station, which worked out pretty well for me. There isn’t really a buzzing downtown to speak of, but if you go during the summer you might prefer to stay near the beaches. You can scope out the best prices for Derbent hotels here.

What to Eat in Dagestan

I didn’t find a lot of Dagestani restaurants, which is why I recommend staying in a guesthouse. Still, there are a few things you can look out for. Dagestan has several of its own takes on khinkal, Caucasian dumplings, the differences coming from the different ethnic groups. There’s also chudu, a sort of stuffed flatbread that also has regional variations. I had it with pumpkin, meat, and cheese and potatoes. I even got to help make it at my guesthouse! You should also try Dagestani cognac.

In Makhachkala, you can try local food at Hinkal Brothers. Jag is a decent place for local food and congac, as well as views over the Caspian Sea.

In Derbent, I had a very tough time finding restaurants that were even open. I did see several hole-in-the-wall style chai houses (Чай хаус). I went to the coffee shop chain Z&M a few times, and also hit up One Coffee for coffee and cake one afternoon.

Traveling Around Dagestan

Traveling around Dagestan by yourself can be something of a challenge if you’re not used to traveling in this part of the world. The most common kind of transport is the ever-present marshrutka, or minibus. There are two bus stations in Makhachkala, both rather far from the center, so double check which one you need. The marshrutkas should have signs on their front dash saying where they are going. They depart when full, so you might have to wait a bit. Prepare to be squished… Both the marshrutka between Makhachkala and Gunib and Makhachkala and Derbent cost 250 rubles one way.

It’s also possible to get a shared taxi to some destinations. My guesthouse host helped me find a shared taxi from Makhachkala to Gunib so I don’t have great insights into this, but judging from my experience there and in Georgia, you just go to where the shared taxis congregate and ask around where men are loitering with their cars. I got my shared taxi from Makhachkala to Gunib at the north bus station.

If you are going to a more remote destination, you may have to arrange a taxi. This can get costly and might be difficult to do if you don’t have any Russian language skills. I’d recommend consulting with your accommodation about how to go about it.

The People of Dagestan

The people of Dagestan were so welcoming and accommodating to me. I would go to order lunch somewhere in Makhachkala and the cashiers would curiously ask me questions about where I was from and what I was doing there. One coffee shop asked me to sign their guestbook. One woman took a photo of her daughter and me. They are hands down the best thing about the region.

That being said, I did have one creepy-ish incident with a man at the guesthouse. He had arrived with several female friends and thought he was being flirty with me over dinner when really he was just being kind of intense. However my guesthouse host was on point and walked me back to my room at the end of the night.

So… is it safe to travel Dagestan?

Whenever anyone asks me if it’s safe to travel to Ukraine or Georgia or Dagestan, I can only shrug. I can’t make that kind of judgment call for someone else. Does the region have a fraught history? Yes. Did I feel like it was any worse than other places I’ve traveled? No. Would I declare it totally safe just because I had an overall good experience for nine days there? No, of course not! It’s a place to keep your wits about you, and it’s not a place I would recommend to new travelers. But if you’re a confident traveler, you’re up for a bit of a challenge, and you’re ready to feel like you’re truly connecting with a place instead of just looking at it from the outside, I definitely recommend traveling to Dagestan.