History of Krasnaya Polyana
Krasnaya Polyana lies in the valley of the Mzymta River, squeezed between the Main Caucasus and Aibga ranges, a little more than forty kilometers from the Black Sea coast. Its fate is unusual for a Black Sea resort: over a century and a half, the valley has been a mountain aul, the site where a long war was ceremonially brought to an end, an abandoned ruin, and also a Greek farming colony, an Estonian homestead, a tsar’s hunting ground, and, finally, the winter capital of the Russian Olympic Games. Each of these eras has left a trace that can still be read in the place names, the layout of the streets, and the way of life — you just have to step off the cable car and walk on foot from the Mzymta to the church.
Kbaade: before the Russian flag
Until the mid-19th century the valley was inhabited by mountain societies — first of all the Ubykh and the closely related Sadz, who belonged to the circle of Abkhaz-Adyghe peoples. The aul that stood on the site of the present-day settlement was called Kbaade (in various sources — Kbaada, Kbaade). The location had been chosen wisely: a wide, level clearing at about six hundred meters, sheltered from the sea winds, with rich hunting, trout streams, and convenient passes over Pseashkho and Aishkho to the north.
The earliest distant mentions of these lands are already found in Turkish travelers of the 17th century, but a systematic description appeared only with the Russian military expeditions of the 1830s, when officers began to map the Mzymta valley.
By the early 1860s this area remained one of the last stretches of the Western Caucasus not under Russian control. It was precisely here, into the mountain wilderness of Akhchipsu, that those who refused to lay down their arms after the fall of the Black Sea coast retreated.
May 21, 1864: the end of a great war
In the spring of 1864 four Russian columns, advancing from the direction of Gagra, Pskhu, Dakho, and the Malaya Laba, converged in the tract of Kbaade. On May 21 (June 2 by the new style), a ceremonial parade of troops and a service of thanksgiving were held on the clearing in the presence of Grand Duke Mikhail Nikolayevich — Viceroy of the Caucasus and brother of the emperor. This day is officially considered the date of the end of the Caucasian War, which had lasted with interruptions for more than half a century. A manifesto on the annexation of the Western Caucasus was read on the clearing, and the Grand Duke ordered the settlement itself to be renamed Romanovsk — in honor of the ruling dynasty.
At the same time as the parade, one of the most tragic pages of Caucasian history was drawing to a close — the Muhajir migration. The Ubykh and most of the Sadz left their native lands forever, resettling in the Ottoman Empire. The beautiful mountain tract stood empty: neither its former owners nor their households remained.
1869: the first, unsuccessful attempt
The vacant lands were opened up for colonization. In 1869 a settlement called Romanovskoye appeared on the site of the former aul — and it is under this date that it entered later reference books as the year of the founding of the present-day Krasnaya Polyana. The project, however, went awry: a harsh winter by local standards, the isolation from the coast, the absence of roads, and the fever in the lowlands made the settlers’ life unbearable. Within a few years the settlement fell into decay. Almost nothing was left of that first attempt except a name on paper. On the clearing itself, once again only wild animals grazed.
Greeks from Stavropol and the “red” clearing
In the autumn of 1878 two scouts sent by a Greek community from Stavropol Province arrived here. The place impressed them: a fertile, south-facing clearing, an abundance of water, dense forest, and plots already ready for cultivation. Soon thirty-six families — descendants of Pontic Greeks looking for a corner for their community that resembled their distant mountain homeland — resettled here across the Pseashkho pass.
It was they who gave the settlement the name that would stick on the map forever. According to the most popular version, the Greeks called the clearing “Red” because of the autumn fern that dyed the slopes crimson. In this way, the popular name gradually crowded out the official “Romanovsky” toponym. The settlers built a church, opened a school, laid out orchards and vineyards, and took up beekeeping. Their descendants still live here, and the distinctive Krasnaya Polyana Greek dialect remained a recognizable feature of this place well into the 20th century.
Estonians: a garden four kilometers further up
Eight years later, in 1886, another community settled higher up the Mzymta River — Estonian peasants. At home a strict law of inheritance was in force: all the land went to the eldest son, so the younger ones were forced to seek a new life on the southern outskirts of the empire.
Thirty-six Estonian families founded a homestead four kilometers from Krasnaya Polyana, which was at first simply called Estonka. The settlers brought apple saplings with them, and within a couple of decades the slopes above the Mzymta turned into a white-and-pink garden every spring. In 1912 the village assembly decided to rename the homestead Esto-Sadok — the “Estonian Garden.” That is how a companion appeared next to Greek Krasnaya Polyana, with a Lutheran prayer house, tidy vegetable gardens, and an entirely different architecture.
Romanovsk, the highway, and the hunting lodge
By the end of the century, the Saint Petersburg authorities had taken an interest in Krasnaya Polyana: the climate, the mineral springs, and hunting for the Caucasian tur appealed to members of the ruling family and the highest aristocracy. In 1898 a state commission led by N. S. Abaza surveyed the surroundings and recommended developing a mountain-climate resort here. On June 19, 1899, the settlement was officially granted the status of a town and its name Romanovsk was restored — although in common usage it never took root, and in all documents the familiar “Krasnaya Polyana” soon began to appear again.
A year later, in 1900, the Krasnaya Polyana Highway was opened — a narrow but solidly built road from Adler that became the first full-fledged thread linking the valley with the coast. With this road began an almost century-long history of Krasnaya Polyana as an aristocratic dacha settlement. Nicholas II’s hunting lodge was built here, along with the dachas of grand dukes, dignitaries, generals, and major industrialists. The first pensions, mineral baths, and a hotel opened in the settlement. By the 1910s Krasnaya Polyana had become one of the most fashionable mountain resorts of the empire, reached via Novorossiysk and Sochi so that visitors could “breathe the mountain air” and hunt chamois.
The Soviet turn: from sanatoriums to trout
The First World War, the revolution, and the Civil War put an end to Krasnaya Polyana’s “dacha era.” Some of the estates burned down, others were converted into sanatoriums. In the Soviet years the settlement developed at an unhurried pace, remaining a quiet mountain appendage of greater Sochi: pioneer camps, rest houses, and tourist bases operated here, from which the classic planned routes to the sea started, via the Pseashkho pass and Lake Kardyvach.
In 1950 Krasnaya Polyana was granted the status of an urban-type settlement, which it retains to this day. Fourteen years later, in 1964, the Adler Trout Farm — the oldest in the country — opened downstream on the Mzymta, and it still supplies rainbow trout to the restaurants of Krasnaya Polyana and half of the Black Sea coast. And from the 1970s onward the first drag lifts came to the valley, and mountain-skiing enthusiasts began arriving: at first they mastered the slopes above the settlement, and then rose higher, onto the Aibga ridge. It was precisely those first “homemade” trails that laid the foundation of the future ski cluster.
2014: the Olympics and a new valley
The real turning point came at the end of the 2000s. After Sochi’s bid won in 2007, the Mzymta valley was transformed beyond recognition. In just seven years a combined railway and expressway were laid to the foot of the Aibga ridge, and the settlement was “hidden” behind a long tunnel bypass. Around Esto-Sadok three modern resorts grew up: Rosa Khutor, Krasnaya Polyana (the former Gorki Gorod), and Gazprom with the Laura biathlon complex and the Russki Gorki ski jumps. In February 2014 medals were contested here in almost all snow disciplines: from alpine skiing and snowboarding to bobsleigh and skeleton.
After the Olympics the valley did not empty out. The infrastructure built for two weeks of competition became the foundation for a year-round resort. In winter it is the country’s largest ski zone with an elevation drop from 540 to 2,320 meters, and in summer it is a land of cable cars, waterfalls, and panoramic views of the Main Caucasus Range. The Lastochka train, inherited from the Olympics, now links the mountains with the airport and the center of Sochi in just an hour.
Today’s Krasnaya Polyana is a three-layered place. On the lower tier, by the Mzymta, the old settlement still lives on with its Greek church, trout ponds, and Soviet sanatoriums. Slightly higher lies Esto-Sadok, Estonian in origin, which has become a hotel belt, and above them, on the slopes of Aibga, stretches the “Olympic” valley of cable cars. A century and a half ago they celebrated the end of a long war here and departed, leaving emptiness behind. Since then the valley has been settled three times — and each time it has become a wholly new world.