It’s now 8.45am on Sunday morning. We’ve just had breakfast in the hotel in Terskol and I have 45 minutes free before we start our first acclimatisation hike.  We’re at 2,300 metres now, and we’ll be hiking up to just above 3,000 metres, maybe a little higher.

Let’s see how much of yesterday’s epic post I can recreate in 45 minutes.

The flight from Paris to Moscow was on a normal little 737 with 35 rows and six seats across.  The first 6 or 7 rows were given over to first class and hidden behind a plush velvet purple curtain. That left 2 toilets for the 80% of us peons on the wrong side of the curtain. The 4 hour flight was full,  and the queue for the loos built up steadily throughout the flight. At about the halfway point the queue reached my aisle seat in row 32, so for two hours, I had the pleasure of observing a variety of arses and crotches only inches from my face. One or two of the larger bottoms even gently carressed my ear as they passed.

We were met getting off the plane by an official in a hat so wide, he might have been smuggling a wok underneath it.

Immigration wasn’t as bad as we expected, although the people in the diplomatic channel didn’t look particularly diplomatic. The lady behind the counter stamped my passport, my visa, and my entry card with such fervour and power that I smiled at her encouragingly to indicate my appreciation of her enthusiasm. She scowled at me in return and I’m pretty sure she was considering whether to apply the stamp with equal fervour to my face. In my haste to escape, I reached for my passport a little too fast and hit the passport, sending it flying straight into her scowling face. I retrieved it,whimpered an apology and scarpered as fast as I could on the direction of baggage reclaim.

We had one night to spend in Moscow before flying another 2 hours south to catch a bus which was to drive us another 4 hours south. This is a big feckin country,  but you probably knew that.

Due to one guy seeking out a  traditional Russian Fifties American Diner and another guy (me) delaying half the team while he bought toothpaste,  our group of 13 was once again split up. Hopefully that’s not a recurring theme.

6 of us ate in a little restaurant with a big buffet where neither the staff nor the menu had any English.  We ate lots but we’re not too sure what any of it was. Our waitress regularly came to see how we were getting on. She’d smike apologetically, natter away for a while and then giggle, shrug, ir frown before wandering off again.

At the end if the meal, she seemed very keen that I, in particular , have the tirimisu. She pointed at me, then at the picture of it on the menu, then at me again. She seemed mildly disappointed that the others at the table ordered cheesecake and a chocolate tart,but she wasn’t going to let me get away with that. This must be very special tirimisu I thought, and how nice of her to recommend it. So I ordered it.  It was crap.

On our drive to the airport, we examined the traffic around us. We past a lada so old and dirty, that we couldn’t tell it’s original colour. Inside the seats had velour fire-engine red tiger stripe seat covers. Then the lada was overtaken by a large new Range Rover. Hanging from the tailgate of the Range Rover was a large, black, and very well filled leather scrotum. Keep it classy,  Moscow.

Flying from Moscow to Mineralne Vodi, I was seated beside a Russian lady and her daughter. The crew ran out of vegetarian meals before they reached me.   Immediately the lady beside me jumped up,  got her bag from the overhead locker and handed me two chocolate croissants. They were delicious. We got chatting and when she heard about our 4 hour journey,  she handed me two pretzels too! Lena and Olessina from Vladykavkaz, you guys rock!

Our bus journey involved dodging a lot of horses and cattle that wandered free on the road. We sweated in the 30° heat and one trekker lamented the fact that the side effects of diamox, which conbats altitude sickness, we’re only a mild tingle in the fingers and toes, rather than a full on foot orgasm. I don’t know what a foot orgasm us or why anyone would want one. Please comment below if you disagree.

One of the other side effects of diamox is a need to pee all the time.  ALL THE TIME! That was a long bus ride.