The legend of the creation of MAGTUR
MAGTUR – “International Academy of Mountain Tourism” – a regional tour operator in the fields of active, sightseeing, sports and recreational tourism in the resorts of the North Caucasus, the territories of the North Caucasus Federal District and Transcaucasia.
The North Caucasus is our native territory and we know for sure how to arrange the best vacation options “for every taste and budget”; we have collected the most complete database of hotels, holiday homes, mountain huts and thoroughly studied all the pros and cons of each accommodation facility.
We conduct tours even for one person.
At present, almost 4 thousand people have passed tours through the MAGTUR programs.
Our team is a family united by the spirit of the mountains and united by a love of the mountains.
Our goal is to preserve the pristine beauty of our native land and generously share the joy of staying in the mountains with all our guests!
Our principle is Caucasian hospitality + Roman liability for obligations.
The legend of the creation of MAGTUR
Oh, you, the nightingales of the old time, Caucasian legends folded! If you would sing this story, jumping on a mental tree, flying up your mind under the clouds, winding glories around our time, ascending the path from the fields to the mountains! So they would sing a song to Magtur, the grandson of Dombay: “It wasn’t a storm of falcons that brought wide fields through – flocks of ravens surrounded the great Caucasus.” Or so you sang, prophetic: “Peaceful calls are ringing – they are responding with joy in Russian cities!”
The trumpets sounded, and the council of the Almighty gathered in the edge of the mountain. Elbrus gray-haired, the elder of the region, and his younger brother, Kazbek light-headed, and Dykhtau, and Shkhara with Dzhimara, and Tebulosmta, and Shan, and Adai-Khokh, and Shalbuzdag, and Dombay-Ulgen got together. And they looked at the bright sun and saw that all their chapters were covered by shadow.
And Elbrus said to his faithful ones: “Brothers and friends! Is it better for the Caucasus to be in darkness, is it possible that the peoples of our land are destined to lay down their heads? How many times did the sun cover the Caucasus in darkness, awakened the night with groaning formidable birds, the animal whistle rose, prophetic birds trembled at midnight and clicked alarms on the tops of the trees! We remember the Caucasian War for half a century, we also remember the recent troubles that alarmed us all – birds were waiting for the deaths of people on oak groves, wolves woke trouble on ravines, eagles screamed animals on bones, foxes lashed military weapons. Is it possible again to announce the dawn of bloody dawns, to go to the black clouds, who want to cover two suns, and in them the blue lightning flutter? Is it possible again to blow the winds from the sea, the earth to buzz, the rivers to flow dimly, to cover the dust of the field, to be great thunder, to rain with bullets, to crows croaking over prey? Is it possible for the wives to cry, lamenting: “Already to us our dear ones can neither think in thought, nor think in thought, nor see with our eyes!”, And moan the Caucasus in grief, and Moscow in misfortune, and pour out anguish, sorrow streams through our lands? How long will the dark nights in the Caucasus last, when the fog has dissipated, the dawn will light the light, and the grass with flowers, drooping with pity, will stand up and straighten the tree, leaning to the ground in sorrow !? ”
And the voice came from the yar-bison Dombay-Ulgen: “Now, brothers, the time has come, the time of peace and plenty, the struggle has calmed down. Two suns did not fade, neither the crimson pillars went out and did not plunge into the sea, and for two young months they did not obscure darkness, and we, friends, did not lose our joy. Rejoice, ancient Elbrus crowned with silver gray hair – your golden throne will be preserved, will not lose the Caucasus of grandfather glory, and will not grieve over the Russian land, remembering the times of peace. Nightingales are foreshadowing with merry songs, the countries are happy and the cities are merry – a young man was born in my people, and in his blood is the blood of all the heroes of the old Russian and Nart, from Ilya of Murom to Sosruko, from a stone born. Their brave hearts were shackled from solid damask steel and hardened in boldness, their thoughts attracted the mind to the feat, they flew high in courage, like falcons, in the hovering winds, trying to overcome the birds in boldness. I sang a song to the old heroes, now – to the young one to sing! Magtur is still small, the grandson of old Dombay, but great is the idea of reconciling peoples, the Caucasus will rediscover the Caucasian region, show the most treasured places, share great joy with brothers! Magtur does not hold in his hand one damask sword, and in the other – a forged shield, but carries in two hands branches of relict trees, boxwood and yew of the Caucasus, marking the firmness of his steel intentions and the immortality of hope for peace, peace and harmony. ”
And Elbrus rejoiced with Kazbek, and Dykhtau, and Shkhara with Dzhimara, and Tebulosmta, and Shan, and Adai-khokh, and Shalbuzdag, and sang mountain rivers and waterfalls in a chorus of voices, and the echo of that song echoed by the waves in the lakes of the mirror and the echoes of the heavenly birds :
Time of turmoil-discord has passed away!
Let while our MAGTUR is small,
But the wisdom on it was justified –
Very expensive, even though the spool is small!