Baku Boy
- krolesh
- Oct 19, 2024
- 12 min read
Updated: Oct 30, 2024
I hit the ground walking.
After I finally found my guesthouse in Baku at 6.30am, I left my shipping container's worth of luggage there, found somewhere to fill my stomach, and then headed off to explore the city. Of course I was exhausted and would've loved to sleep for the whole day, but I couldn't check in until midday.
Waiting around at the ritzy Tashkent airport for my 3.30am flight. I needed to get a small delivery truck to transport my bike and gear to the airport. That's actually true. It was cheap and efficient, and I could organise it all online, on my Yandex app.
Last chance for Uzbek gear, at airport prices.
My Uzbek friend Bek accompanied me to the airport, to make sure everything went smoothly. Such a sweet guy. I'd love to catch up with him again, he works at the guesthouse, but is trying to get a work visa for Korea, where his family currently lives.
Ooops. I didn't see this sign until I'd already shat into the urinal, and then washed my hands and feet in there, whilst pissing on the floor.
I boarded my 3.30am flight, due to take 3 and a half hours, and was asleep before takeoff. I only awoke when the lights went on a short time later, when they decided to serve a meal. What? A meal at 4am? WTCF!!?!!*
*crying
So, like sheep, we all dutifully ate our plastic airline food, despite the fact that we'd all probably already had dinner and weren't hungry. Then we all collectively fell asleep, as soon as they'd removed our dirty planet-destroying dishes, which they did only about 10 minutes after serving the food. Everyone wolfed the food down, including me, once I realised they were coming for it.
Of course, the lights were only down for an hour or so before they were suddenly turned on again, immediately accompanied by a ridiculously loud fury-inducing announcement, to prepare us for landing, and to make sure that the journey was as insensitive and disruptive for all passengers as was inhumanly possible.
But no one else seemed to notice.
Well, unless they all did, and thought the same of me.
Once dropping off my luggage at the guesthouse I stopped at the first open café I could find and had a coffee. It was real, and so good.
These guys hadn't yet made it home from their previous night's partying.
It's so cute in the outdoor cafés and restaurants here. When it's cold the staff bring their customers blankets to wrap themselves in, so they'll stay longer. Smart. And comfy.
Sunrise over this café-rich part of the old town.
School Uniforms of the World #11c. They're pretty same-ish sometimes, aren't they. These Azeri kids were on a little tour of the old town.
Random shots from my wanderings in the old city, the district of Icherisheher.
This is a 17th Century ovdan, basically a water reservoir. They were built to store water in the city, which had been transported from the mountains via underground water channels, or khariz. So, regardless of the season, there was always fresh clean water in the city.
Following the incorporation of the Baku Khanate into the Russian empire in 1806, the ovdans and khariz were filled in with soil, and water piped in.
A sculpture of a kamança, an Iranian stringed instrument used in traditional Azerbaijani, Armenian, Persian and Turkish music.
This is a tar, another Persian stringed instrument. The word tar means 'string' in Persian, and is the root of the word guitar. When musicians broke a string they'd bark out to their slaves "get me a string," ie, "get tar!"
Hence guitar.
A traditional bathhouse, dating back to the early 1600s. Like all eastern bathhouses, half of it was built above ground and half underground, to maintain the perfect temperature all year round.
Water coming from the underground reservoir was heated in the boiler room, and ceramic pipes with hot water leading from the fires also heated the walls and floors, to keep the place cosy.
Magnificent buildings, walls, balconies and sculptures abound in the old city.
I chatted to this woman for ages, and told her all about my life and my deepest personal problems. She was such a great listener. Eventually I realised she was only a statue, but it really helped anyway.
This is what's known as the Maiden Tower, which is traditionally where cricketers used to go to learn how to bowl maiden overs. Or to bowl maidens over, I'm not sure which.
Actually, it's one of Azerbaijan's most iconic symbols, even appearing on their currency.
The original building pre-dates Christianity and Islam here, and was built during the Zoroastrian period, as a fire tower for an important fire temple. Fire was a central part of Zoroastrianism.
I have mentioned this before, but just for revision, in case you lazily haven't been doing your homework and keeping notes tut tut, Zoroastrianism is one of the world's oldest religions, an Iranian-based faith centred on the teachings of the Iranian prophet Zarathustra.
Those super funky Zoroastrians believed in a benevolent wise deity called Ahura Mazda, who was continually opposed to a nasty deity called Angra Mainyu, an angry and destructive dude who always wanted to fuck things up for everyone.
This dualistic cosmology always had a happy ending, as good always triumphed over evil.
Sometimes it was a bit slow though, as we all know from our current shit show of a world.
But it always got there in the end.
Hopefully the end won't get here first.
In Zoroastrianism humans have a choice between good thoughts, words and deeds, and not-so-good ones, characterised by greed, wrath and envy. Easy innit. Nature is revered, and all their rituals involve fire, and their temples are strangely known as fire temples.
Speaking of fire, this was my first glimpse of the flame towers, at the back, an iconic symbol of Baku. I'll tell ya about those later.
After wandering for ages through parts of the old city, I strolled over to the seaside. Baku is set on a peninsula right on the Caspian Sea.
Swanee, how I love ya, how I love ya. Famous Azeri singer Muslim Magomayev, who was known as the Soviet Sinatra. He was an old crooner, who also sang Azerbaijani opera and pop. The statue was cool, you could pick different songs of his, and they'd blurt out through the park.
It's the Caspian, see?
There's lots of these stalls around, for practising your firing.
This woman was washing stains off the paving stones with soap. Quite a thankless task I'd imagine.
Getting closer
It was incredible! This woman was actually being robbed just as I took the photo! But I couldn't help her, as I was super busy sightseeing and doing nothing.
I hate to say it, but this is a mall, the Caspian Waterfront Mall. It's not quite the Sydney Opera House, but it's sailing in the same direction.
The Azerbaijan Carpet Museum, built in the shape of a half rolled up carpet.
Someone or other slaying a dragon
All this art everywhere! Some of the sculptures in this city are really getting out of hand.
I caught a glimpse of a beautiful mosque way up on the hill, so decided to climb up to it. I can't help myself sometimes.
I could've taken the funicular, but instead decided to step up for the occasion.
Not only chemistry, but mathematics too
Hot off the pressing
There were fine views from the top
The crescent moon is the most iconic Islamic symbol of them all. It's everywhere, on flags, on signs and buildings, and they even put a real one in the sky sometimes.
This is a memorial to Azeri martyrs from various gruesome historical events, the main one being a massacre by Soviet troops in Baku in 1990, when Azeri separatists took control of the capital and declared independence from the Soviet Union, as the Soviet empire broke apart elsewhere.
The Soviets, under the orders of that so-called peacenik Mikhail Gorbachev, subsequently sent in 26,000 troops into the capital, and massacred hundreds of Azeris.
These childlings had photographs of some of the martyrs, and their teachers were filming them reading passages and poems about how great some of the slain were. Ah ..... celebrating slaughters is so great, especially at such a young age.
The eternal flame
A security guard there, Mohammed, was very friendly, and explained to me a little about the memorial. He also offered to take my pic.
But then he said, "you show me respect, you give me money."
Cheeky bastard.
He had a machine gun so I gave him a couple of Manat.
Maybe not the best place for a happy smile.
There's riches dripping all around Baku, but there's also a lot of hustlers around who want (or need) to get in on some of the money action. Sometimes people stop you on the street with some story or other, and ask you for money (eg. "I'm Ukrainian and my daughter has cancer," which is quite creative, if it was fiction). I hoped it wasn't true but I donated just in case.
Waiters blatantly ask for tips, and even tell you how much you should tip them. My airport taxi driver asked for more money after he dropped me at my guest house, even though I gave him a super good deal to start with.
Martyrs Alley. There were even one or two women there. Shock horror.
I'm also not sure why some people had lots of carnations and some didn't have any.
Not that it really martyrs.
So many needless deaths. Most were killed on the same day, Jan 20th, 1990.
They're everywhere.
Finally I got to the mosque that I'd seen from below, also built as a memorial to the martyrs. It was small, by grandiose Baku standards, but quite beautiful.
Feet washing spot
I eventually wandered back to the old city. I love the street art and sense of history in this town.
Some famous politician.
Very grand, and very European.
Back outside the walls of the old city
Silent cop for pedestrians. No, not really. I honestly couldn't find out what this is. Anyone know?
There's a lot of vendors selling stuff for tourists.
I wanted to buy one of these furry hats, but would've needed an extra pannier to carry it in.
Who buys this stuff?
There's a beautiful little puppet theatre in the old town, but I missed the show.
The non-touristed back alleys, where I kept getting lost, after constantly just trying to follow my half-nose.
It suddenly got dark. I forgot about the time change. I'm getting close to Europe time, I'm only an hour ahead of you guys now.
Full cafés everywhere.
Fall has fallen. But it's not cold yet.
Yay! Labneh! And for less than 2 Manat. A Manat is about the same as an Aussie dollar, about 60 US cents.
Underpass art
The seaside by night. One of the first things I noticed when I arrived in Baku was the humidity. I mean, it's not tropical humidity, but it's so much more humid than the dry country I've just come from, in Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan.
And there's often a cracker of a cool sea breeze here too.
Azeri flags in the distance.
This guy was a real statue
The flame towers at the back are lit up at night, displaying everything from the Azerbaijani flag, to memorials to someone or other, to actual moving flames, commemorating those martyrs again.
Serious chess game
There's a whole section of town near the old city that's completely traffic free, and it's always packed with diners and shoppers at night. It's really bustling, there's a great vibe, with street artists and buskers and lots of live music coming out of restaurants and cafes and bars.
The old city, my neighbourhood, is also great to wander around at night.
The Palace of the Shirvanshahs, a 15th Century reconstructed palace, up the end of my street. It was once the inner stronghold of the Baku fortress, and is, along with a few other sites in the old city (like the Maiden Tower), a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Sorry for the blur.
Incredible living art
Yes, I kissed her.
I asked first though.
Just like any decent Baku boy would do.
(Dis)connected Again
I mean, I'm back online, so some would say I'm now connected, but you could just as easily say I'm disconnected again. From much of the natural world at least.
But I've gotta say it's been really nice to catch up with some friends and family, after being offline for quite a while.
I had a few life-admin things to do as well, before I head off on my bike again.
Like reassemble it, for instance.
Delicious bread and veg soup, from the café around the corner. The grease wasn't just in the soup.
This hookah's already been sucked off. It smelt delicious.
Local beer brand, it's not bad actually.
My palace is inside those walls
I wandered towards the markets, on a mission to buy some new clothes. I'm looking way too ratty for this town, with my old holey hippy Indian pants.
The city is packed with beautiful buildings
Carousel
Wow. Perfect Insta stance.
There's lots of köşk on the streets, selling ciggies and various sweet things
Chickpea pilav. Haven't seen that before. In Azerbaijan they use the word pilav for pilaf, the rice dish. In Uzbekistan they say plov. Same stuff, different country.
Baku central railway station.
Another martyr, who's even got a street named after him.
Old buildings. Not many left near the city centre anymore.
The Yaşil Markets, or Green Bazaar. It wasn't that big, but was pretty nice.
Pickles
Chilli plants
Fresh figs. I bought some, they were so sweet.
A statue of Nikola Tesla, a Serbian-American engineer and inventor, known for his work on AC electricity supply systems. Don't ask me why he's here, as I couldn't find any connection between him and Azerbaijan whatsoever.
But Elon's obviously heard of him.
I saw this sale sign so I went in and bought clothes.
Heydәr ӘLiyev was the 3rd President of the newly independent Azerbaijan, after it broke free from the Soviet Union in 1992. Previously he was high up in the KGB in the Soviet Union and knew all the leadership in Moscow.
You see his face and name everywhere. Baku airport's named after him too.
Rather rare run down buildings. For this part of town anyway.
Leo got his own street here
Now that's a surprise. The judges would need a bloody strong constitution to make any rulings in this country. Basically it's about supporting the President first, and upholding any pretend constitutional laws second.
The inside of one of the pairs of pants I bought today.
Into The Unknown
Wow. What an absolute pleasure.
I just woke up, after sleeping for 11 hours.
It feels so good to be in my tent again, out in some random piece of bush west of the city of Baku.
But I have a bit of a sore throat, it came on yesterday. Long sleeps like this are just what it needs to heal.
My spot
I spent my last day in Baku fine-tuning my bike for the next leg of my journey, and spent the afternoon at the magnificent Azerbaijan State Museum of Art, which houses art from everywhere, especially local, European and Chinese/Japanese art.
It was stunning.
Gorgeous random buildings on the way
Horse gravestone, from the 16th Century.
Napoleon
Alexander the Greatly Sad
The building itself was beautiful, an old mansion stuffed with chandeliers and ornate fireplaces and other fine things.
Egyptian papyrus drawing, with hieroglyphs, from sometime between the 20th and 10th Centuries BC. Rather old huh.
Sculptures from around the same period. The ancient Egyptians loved dogs.
Renaissance marvels from 16th Century Florence.
In those days it was always about the Madonna, the "Virgin" Mary.
Mary telling her friend Elizabeth not to tell anyone that her and Joseph, well, you know, did it.
Ottoman craftswomanship
Chinese outdoor table. Not that conducive to backyard cricket.
Beautiful Japanese and Chinese paintings
Looks like he came straight out of Studio Ghibli
A dragon handling a jug
Russian art
Kandinsky work
Russian Lentilov's the Domes of Dormition Cathedral, from 1917
Flemish painting of Salome, King Herod's stepdaughter, and John The Baptist, after he totally lost his head. John had made the fatal mistake of publicly criticising the marriage of King Herod to Salome's already divorced mother, tut tut.
After Salome had danced for Herod he was so enamoured with her that he granted her any wish she wanted. On her mum's insistence, Salome asked for the head of John on a platter, which she eventually triumphantly presented to her deranged mama.
Gruesome.
Carousal. Partying at the port. 19th Century Germany.
Monastic pharmacy, Netherlands, 17th Century.
A mini Medici, from Florence in the 1600s.
French drawing with misproportioned head, 1700s.
Woman with child, 1800s.
Yes, I did ask. No fucking way were they gonna let me play it.
The building really is magnificent.
It's soooooo boring being a nude model. Italy, early 1880s.
French pipes.
Ladies' bits and bobs.
Musos always get the attention. Apparently. France 1800s.
Bust of Voltaire, that French writer and philosopher from the 1700s, whose famous work on the English government and political system is still regarded as a classic of French literature.
Bust of woman and her bust. Italy, 1800s.
Local sculptures of falcon hunters, a once common but now dying tradition in Central Asia.
"I can't marry him, I'm gonna pretend I'm dead instead." Russia, 1800s.
Baku in 1872.
Exquisite glassware
Saying goodbye to the slave. I asked the bored gallery staff member who the slave was. She said it was the guy.
Russian officer heading off to the Crimean War against the Ottomans, 1862.
This guy won the silver medal
Yeah, bike lanes exist here. A few anyway. I cruised back down to the sea.
Bet you'll never guess what sort of tree this is.
It's an olive tree. A nearly 200 year old one, in fact.
A similarly aged Argentinian floss tree.
And a young 'un.
The weird thing is, they've all been transplanted here, and not that long ago either.
More of that absolutely delicious smoked cheese. It lasts forever too, unrefrigerated.
The side gate to my estate
Guesthouse photos of Baku back in the day.
Chillin' in the tea house.
To The Other Baijan
Yeah, eventually it became time to leave the city. As much as I love Baku, and could stay a whole lot longer, I wanna see what the rest of the country is like.
If every single other Central Asian country I've visited is any indication, there'll be a huge divide between life in the capital city and life in the countryside.
So it's time to get back on Bewdy and head west. I've reassembled her, and she's feeling pretty smooth and ready for action. She doesn't ever seem to miss a beat, touch wood.
What a loyal and reliable companion she's turned out to be. I've cycled thousands and thousands of kilometres on her, don't ask me how many exactly, but lots. It's a long way from Bali to here, which is where I first started this cycle journey, and my little bike has been amazingly resilient and reliable, despite the hell I've put her through.
And now, a new leg is about to begin.
It's time to explore the Caucasus❤️
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