- They, sir, were dug by King Solomon. - For what? - Bury your treasures. He had a thousand wives; and you can’t suddenly settle things with two. They began to ask for treasure, and in order to get rid of them, he decided to transport his wealth here. - What are you talking about, Seid! Couldn’t he have found a convenient place in his own land? Was it easy for him to go so far? - The whole earth was his! You say far! Don't you know that he had a magic ring that, as soon as he turned it, he was instantly transported wherever he wanted. - So be it! And even here, Seid, if he carried it himself, he would have to turn around several thousand times! - Do you really think, sir, to be smarter than Solomon? - God forbid, Seid! I don’t even dare think about it. - So why should you judge his intentions? And it’s true: let’s go to bed better!
The next day, almost before daylight, Seid saddled the horses, and we, having paid and said goodbye to our owner, set off. About 300 steps before the fifth verst, to the left near the road you can see the foundation of a strong wall. The Tatars attribute great antiquity to it: it was apparently a fortification. They call this place Demir Kapu (Iron Gate). Traces of the wall are still visible far away in the mountains: they are called Kalany-Bair. I will not go into the study of this antiquity: Mr. Koppen, who studied local antiquities so well and in detail, has probably already interpreted this one too.
9 miles from Chavka, constantly descending and passing through many dry streams, which after heavy rains become fast and impassable streams, we reached Taushan-Bazar (Hare Market). This is a valley in which there is no habitation, but travelers on horseback usually stop here to feed their horses. From here I have to climb such a steep mountain that my horse had to walk at a pace. This mountain is believed to have a perpendicular height of 2800 feet from sea level. It is located 19 miles from Chavka.
Here on the mountain there is an obelisk with the following inscription:
Here Emperor Alexander rested while passing through Crimea for the last time. This is a place of memories!... Looking at the formidable Chatyrdag and the chain of mountains lying under it, inhaling the living, clean air at this height, in solitude, in deep silence, you remember the history and exploits of Napoleon's great rival!... All this fills the soul with a mysterious and at the same time delightful feeling! Thinking about Alexander, about his fate, about his early death, I repeat with Bossuet: God alone is great!
From here the road begins to descend. Having traveled 800 steps, you already see the sea; but it is still far away, and from the height at which you are, in the midst of the vast expanse of everything around you, this spectacle of the sea is not so striking. You begin to feel the difference in climate after descending a few more miles.
The valley and the town of Alushta, which you are approaching in a straight line, begin to appear very pleasantly before your eyes, when suddenly the Demirdzhi rock appears on the left and attracts all the attention and curiosity of the traveler. Imagine a huge mountain, irregularly and differently hewn by nature on all sides: now it is a woman’s head with a combed hairpiece, now it is a hanging rock above a village, lying at its base, which it threatens to crush, now it is an irregular bastion - and all this as the viewer changes his place. The sun struck its rays directly on her, and she seemed to me then like porcelain. Imagine the bright pink, blue and grayish colors in large spots, and along the ravines dug up on it, and at its base, the green color of the bushes, and you will admit that all this together makes up a single picture. I stopped and couldn’t get enough of her! Demirci was forever imprinted in my memory and left behind a pleasant memory.
At the 16th mile you pass near a spring lined with wild stones. The water in it is excessively cold: I drank a glass of it and immediately felt that I had a cold in my throat; I actually got hoarse from this for a whole week! On the well there is the following inscription: “Near this place, in the battle against the Turks, Major General Mikhailo Kutuzov, who later was Field Marshal and Prince of Smolensk, was wounded in the eye.” Another memory of my youth! I remember the friendly disposition of M.I. Kutuzov towards me, under whose command I fought more than once, I studied military craft, lived in his tent and used his instructions.[1]
Going even lower, you see at noon and to the right of Alushta a mountain called Kastel. Here I left the mountains, and, having crossed the Shuma River, I was in the Alushta Valley, at the very entrance to this place. There are vineyards everywhere, planted using European methods.