Crossing Into North Ossetia: From the Mountains to Soccer Mayhem
September 2019: After visiting the independent but Russia-aligned South Ossetia, we made our way north, crossing over the stunning, snow-covered Caucasus Mountains into Russia’s North Ossetia. Despite being politically separate, the two Ossetias share the same people, culture, and traditions—one a Russian state, the other an independent country heavily reliant on Moscow.
Vladikavkaz: A City Consumed by Soccer Chaos
We arrived in Vladikavkaz, the capital of North Ossetia, just as the city was erupting in soccer madness. A major match between the local team and a powerhouse from Moscow had brought the city to a standstill. The streets were eerily empty, but the air was filled with chanting, cheering, and firecrackers. Whether at home or in the stadium, everyone was glued to the game.
Finding a Soviet-Era Hotel
With the city buzzing with excitement, finding a hotel proved difficult—most were fully booked for the match. After searching, we finally secured rooms at the Aleksandrovskiy Hotel, an old Soviet-era relic.
This was perfect for me—I’ve always had a soft spot for all things Soviet, especially the hotels. The stale décor, the rigid atmosphere, and the lingering air of Communist-era efficiency added to the authentic experience of being in the Russian Caucasus.
Caucuses Mountains
Huge Steel Sculpture of an Ossetian Folk Hero Protruding from the Cliffside
Where is Kavikavkaz, North Ossetia
Map of Kavikivkaz
North Ossetia: A Christian Enclave in a Volatile Region
North Ossetia, a predominantly Christian region, is situated in one of the most turbulent corners of the Caucasus. To the south, it borders Georgia, which remains technically at war with South Ossetia. To the east, it neighbors the Muslim-majority Russian republics of Dagestan, Ingushetia, and Chechnya—regions that have witnessed decades of conflict between Russian forces and separatist or militant insurgents.
Over the years, some of this violence has spilled into North Ossetia, making it a frontline between stability and unrest. Despite its Christian heritage and ties to Russia, its location in this rough neighborhood has ensured that tensions and security concerns are never far away.
The Siege of Beslan School
A Somber Stop: The Beslan School Siege Memorial
On our final morning in North Ossetia, before heading to the airport, we made an important stop—to pay our respects to the victims of the Beslan School Siege, one of the most horrific terrorist attacks in modern history, often referred to as “Russia’s 9/11.”
The Tragedy of Beslan: September 1-3, 2004
On September 1, 2004, 31 heavily armed Chechen and Ingush terrorists, disguised as repairmen, stormed Beslan’s primary school on Knowledge Day—a Russian holiday where parents accompany their children to school to meet their teachers.
- 1,100 hostages were taken, the majority of them young children.
- For three agonizing days, students, parents, and teachers were trapped without food or water inside the school, enduring sweltering heat while surrounded by Russian police forces.
- The crisis ended in a brutal firefight, as Russian forces stormed the school using tanks and heavy weaponry.
- The terrorists detonated their suicide vests, leading to mass devastation.
The Aftermath: Unimaginable Loss
When the siege was over, 333 hostages lay dead—including 186 children. The school was left in ruins, its walls scarred with bullet holes, and its floors soaked in the blood of innocents. The tragedy left a permanent mark on Russia’s history and the psyche of North Ossetia.
Standing at the Beslan Memorial, surrounded by the echoes of unimaginable suffering, was a deeply sobering experience. It was impossible not to feel overwhelmed by the sheer scale of loss, a reminder of how fragile life can be in this volatile region of the world.
Beslan School
Bullet Holes
Beslan School: A Memorial Frozen in Time
When I arrived in Beslan, I expected to find the school demolished, replaced by a modern, polished memorial. Instead, what I found was far more raw and haunting—the school remained almost exactly as it was left after the siege:
- Ruined, abandoned, and scarred by bullet holes and artillery blasts
- Walls still pockmarked from the battle
- A place frozen in time, untouched by renovation
Rather than erase the past, the victims’ families chose to preserve the ruins as a permanent memorial—a raw, unfiltered reminder of the tragedy, ensuring that the memory of their loved ones would never be forgotten.
The Gymnasium: A Heartbreaking Scene
The most gut-wrenching part of the visit was stepping inside the gymnasium, where most of the children were killed. The walls were lined with portraits of the young victims, and the floor was covered in teddy bears, flowers, and candles—heartfelt tributes left by those who refuse to let their loss fade into history.
There were no guards, no entrance fees, no polished plaques—just an open, silent space, where the weight of unimaginable grief hangs heavy in the air. It was impossible to walk through without feeling overwhelmed by sorrow, a reminder of the innocence lost and the wounds that time can never fully heal.
The gymnasium where the hostages were kept during the siege and where many met their end.
Water bottles left in memory of the dehydration the victims suffered during the siege
The Hell of the Beslan Siege
The conditions inside the school during the siege were nothing short of pure hell. The hostages—mostly children—were denied food, medicine, or water, forced to endure sweltering heat without relief. The terrorists showed no mercy, refusing to allow:
- Bodies of executed victims to be removed
- Any supplies—not even water—to enter the school
- Any communication with the outside world
To further torment the captives, the terrorists blasted loud music from Rammstein, the German heavy metal band, day and night inside the gymnasium—a twisted psychological warfare tactic. The dehydration became so severe that some hostages were forced to drink their own urine to survive.
Because of this, visitors to the school now leave water bottles in memory of the victims, a symbolic offering for those who died suffering from extreme thirst.
A Place That Leaves You in Silence
A few other Russians were at the school during our visit, each one silent, paying their respects in a way that words simply couldn’t. Like them, I was left without anything to say—only an overwhelming sense of grief and disbelief.
Of all the places I’ve visited in the world, Beslan School affected me the most. It stayed with me for days after, lingering in my thoughts, driving me to read everything I could about the siege, trying to make sense of something so incomprehensible.
But as with so many places of horror and tragedy I’ve seen, there was no explanation that could justify it. The truth is humans are capable of unimaginable cruelty toward one another, and Beslan was yet another painful reminder of that.
Living in the Shadow of Tragedy
As I left, I noticed the apartment blocks surrounding the school, everyday life continuing in the shadow of such unfathomable horror. I couldn’t help but wonder—how do people go about their daily routines here? How does it feel to wake up every morning with this place as a permanent, haunting presence in your community?
For them, it is not just history—it is a constant, unavoidable reminder of what happened. And for me, Beslan will forever remain one of the most heartbreaking places I have ever visited.
Teddy bears left in memory of the children
Photos of children that died in the siege
Men that died fighting to free the hostages
Empty hallways of Beslan Schools
The Beslan Cemetery: The Final Resting Place of the Victims
A few miles outside of town, we visited the cemetery where most of the victims of the Beslan school massacre are buried. The sheer number of graves was overwhelming—a stark visual reminder of the scale of loss that this small community endured.
The cemetery was somber and silent, with rows of tombstones bearing the faces of children, teachers, and parents who never made it out of the school. Many graves were adorned with flowers, toys, and water bottles, left by visitors in remembrance of the suffering the hostages endured in their final days.
Standing there, surrounded by hundreds of graves, it was impossible not to feel the deep sorrow and lasting pain that this tragedy inflicted upon the families, the town, and the entire region. Unlike the school, which remained frozen in time, the cemetery felt final—a place where families come to grieve, and where the memory of the victims will never fade.
This was not just a cemetery—it was a monument to lives stolen too soon, a place that embodied both heartbreak and resilience in equal measure.
Graveyard of the school victims