Author Archives: todd

Ələt + 4km – Lənkəran

I’m growing a bit annoyed by (some) people’s habits here in Azerbaijan. Their driving is reckless and outright dangerous with no consideration for others, the honking is nerve-wrecking, and their inquisitiveness and doubtfulness is close to being rude. People just walk up to my table at a restaurant and pick up my phone to look at it, or they take my sunglasses off of my head to try them on themselves, and a police or security dude took my bike for a test ride while I was busy asking for directions elsewhere. It appears all this is much worse south of Baku. Or maybe I’m just less tolerant today for some reason.

The weather is awesome, however. It is again overcast and I have a nice tail wind. At noon I’d already done the first 100km.

Tried to get some food at a restaurant. Knowing about the (small) size of the portions I ordered three of them, but couldn’t make myself understood properly. People thought I was trying to haggle down the price. Didn’t get much to eat and had to pay more than was quoted originally. Left frustrated and hungry.

Many kilometers and a few hours (as well as a few edits) later…

Ok, I wrote the above after my failed lunch. Meanwhile, almost 100km further down south I’ve calmed down again. Of course, the honking went on during the day, and the driving skills haven’t improved, either. However, I’ve met a couple of nice people (one even drove me around Lənkəran in his Lada helping me find a hotel with Wi-Fi), I have a comfortable-enough place to stay at, and I just had a filling dinner in a simple restaurant where staff spoke Russian and understood that I need more than one portion.

The countryside down here is green again and flat. I’ve crossed the central plains and am now in the Lənkəran lowlands, bordering the Talysh mountains to the west.

Oh, and I had my first dog fight today. Had to kick it in the face to make it leave.

Word of the day: Super-Mini-Market (As seen on a shop near Salyan.)

Question of the month: “Do you work for the post?” (Asked by a couple of young mothers chatting me up when I was confusedly looking for a place to stay in Lənkəran.)

Cycled: 197km (Yupp, leaving early, good winds, and desperately wanting to leave Azerbaijan soon worked together quite well.)

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Baku – Ələt + 4km

Stuart and me went out again last night. Heather rang at 2am telling us that she’d gotten word from their boat, it would leave soon.
So we said good bye a little later. Good times, great people, unfortunately leaving Europe. Schniefschnuff.

After few hours of sleep I packed my stuff, said good bye to Michael, and left the hostel at noon.

I had a great tail wind today and rode southward with 30-40kph. Stopped in Qobustan to have a look at the petroglyphs and Roman grafitti there. The former are from various centuries and between 2000 and 20000 years old. The latter is the easternmost Roman inscription found to date.

I also visited the mud vulcanos near Ələt. Tiny little mini vulcanos spitting mud. Funny to look at.

Asked at a road side kafe/restauran for permission to pitch my tent in their backyard. Got invited to scrambled eggs and tea, and was questioned about all kinds of aspects of my life. People’s inquisitiveness is getting a bit annoying and tiring.

Throughout the day’s riding I had a gut feeling that was a mix of being hungry and feeling lonely.

Cycled: 97km
Top speed: 74kph

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Baku

Baku is a strange place. It has a grandly built city center, but there just don’t seem to be that many people around to justify that. At night some folks stroll along the boulevard at the Caspian, but the city center itself and its many pubs and bars are almost deserted, even on a Friday night. Maybe it’s due to summer heat and holiday time that people have moved to cooler regions (where would that be, though?) of the country. However, on top of the general lack of people I’m noticing a severe deficit in females. An effect of the conservative nature of this society, I guess.

There are also almost no foreign travelers here, as far as I could see. People’s staring is not as obtrusive as in Georgia.

However strange Baku itself may be, I’m having a great time here with Micheal from the States, and Heather and Stu, the moving-to-New-Zealand-by-bicycle couple, and various short-timers in the hostel.

Michael has just finished his mission of visiting the lowest points on each continent, and will be flying back home on Monday, and Heather and Stu will catch a boat to Kazakhstan tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, insh’allah. I myself will leave the posh-looking capital of Azerbaijan tomorrow, if I’m spared. I’ll be heading south towards Iran. Unfortunately, I’ve not met anyone here who could help me meet the Azerbaijani ESC contestants/winners.

Word of the day: matutinal (dt.: morgendlich). None of the above native English speakers knew it (neither did I). :)

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Novxanı Beach – Baku

We started cycling at noon today, and with a slight hang-over. Though the swim in the Caspian in the morning was good.

Before going to Baku proper we wanted to do some sightseeing on the Abseron peninsula on which both Sumqayit and Baku are located. The peninsula is rich in natural oil and gas reserves. There are two places that were of particular interest to us. The first was Yanar Dag, where gas streams out from the earth. It was ignited accidentally by a shepherd’s cigarette in the 1950’s, they say, and has been burning ever since. The place is now labeled “State Historic Culture and Natural Preserve” and an entrance fee of 2 manat is charged. The guards made up for that by inviting us to a glass of tea.

The second sight is called Ashtagah, the fire temple. It was built by Indian Shiva devotees in the 18th century, but was sacred to Zoroastrians for much longer. It is also located at a natural gas vent, however that reserve has run dry and is now connected to Baku’s main gas supply.

The ride from Yanar Dag to Ashtagah led us through the semi-desert of the Abseron peninsula, with oil fields and the ubiquitous nodding-donkey oil pumps everywhere, oil ‘lakes’, salt lakes and decrepit settlements. Quite an uninviting place.

We reached Baku from the east, on a crowded highway. The city is entirely different from all the other Azerbaijani cities I’ve seen so far. It is an actual city. Huge buildings, many in a neo-Persian style.

The hostel we’re now in is tucked away in the Old Town, awesomely located in a backyard off a tiny alley. Guess who’s here? Heather and Stuart, the cycling couple I’d met briefly in Akhalsopeli a week or so ago.

Cycled: 69km

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Almost Şamaxı – Novxani Beach

The sky was overcast again this morning. We were just getting up when a few vineyard workers arrived. They started their working day watching us packing our stuff.

Today we wanted to reach Baku – almost. That is, since it was likely going to be late at night when we arrive there, we wanted to stay somewhere outside the city to have a relaxed day arriving in the capital tomorrow.

About 40km from Baku the road descended in a long turn down towards the Caspian plain, and we could see the city of Sumqayit and the Caspian Sea in the not-so-far distance. It was a magic sight and we decided to go to Sumqayit, or rather a beach near that city, instead of Baku. The Dutch tourists I’d met in Şəki had told me that it was a nice place.

We rode through Baku’s and Sumqayit’s suburbs and judging from the traffic and the amount of houses it became clear that we wouldn’t find a secluded, quiet beach there.

It was indeed, of course, crowded. A hotel and disco nearby. No way we could camp there conveniently. What’s the major difference between an Azerbaijani beach and a European one? The (almost) lack of women and girls. Azerbaijanis may have a comparatively relaxed attitude towards religion, but they’re still conservative.

Well, we spent some time there anyway, had water melon, went for a refreshing swim, and got invited by a bunch of off-duty police officers to bread and cheese and tomatoes and German Eierlikör.

Eventually we checked into a hotel directly at the beach. There’s a disco there, too, and we wanted to check out the local party scene. The bouncer asked us politely to pay 10 manat entrance fee each (a bit less than 10 Euro), which we politely refused, thinking that was the ‘tourist price’. That almost put an end to our first Azerbaijani party experience. We were almost gone when the bouncer called us back and we were granted free entry. And so we met Azer, friends with the bouncer, hairdresser from Sumqayit, who’d put in a good word for us without us even noticing at first.

He’s of Dagestani descent and offered to help us with anything in Baku, Sumqayit or Azerbaijan. I asked about the Azerbaijani ESC contestants, but he doesn’t know them and can’t help me get an autograph. :( We learned that life is not easy for gay people in Azerbaijan, but he and his (male and female) friends had fun that night anyway. And we did, too.

Cycled: 137km

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Nic – almost Şamaxı

We got up kind of late – the sun hadn’t woken us up, the sky was overcast.

Anyway, the day was a hot one already, and the thin layer of clouds disappeared soon.

I haven’t counted yet, but I think I drink about 7 to 10 liters of water per day now.

At some rest stop a guy told us that he’d seen three other cyclists going in the opposite direction today. However, we must have missed them somehow (how?).

We hitched a ride hanging on to the back of a slow truck to get up a particularly nasty hill.

We stopped about 3 kilometers from Şamaxı in a hamlet without name. The place consisted mostly of a restaurant, two shops and about three houses. Had dinner there and then retreated to a vineyard where we pitched our tents.

Cycled: 106km

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Şəki – Nic

When I woke up this morning I wasn’t sure where to go exactly today, and which route to take.
At breakfast I met two Dutch tourists who told me that a couple of the places I wanted to see have changed a lot since the Lonely Planet recommended them (in 2009), and are now very touristy. So I took them off my list.

Went to the silk factory shop I’d been at only briefly yesterday, and on the way back I met Andrzej from Poland, cycling to Iran. He went to see the city, I went to pack my stuff, and then we met again to cycle on together.

The road was good and easy to ride on (mostly downhill) and we chatted the time away. After about 40km we noticed we were on the wrong road and had gone too far south. So we changed direction. On a long stretch of straight road going uphill people handed us slices of refreshing water melons from passing cars.

Originally, we wanted to go to Qəbələ but with that little diversion earlier we didn’t make it there. In Nic, about 20km east of Qəbələ, we stopped and asked about possibilities to pitch tents. People sent us to the local ‘stadium’ – a soccer field with cow shit and thistles. But it worked well for us.

The Polish word ‘nic’ translates to ‘nothing’. Kind of appropriate for the village of Nic.

Cycled: 98km

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Qax – Şəki

Slept in and left Qax after noon. I took the ‘old road’ to Şəki (pronounced Shäki), which the Lonely Planet lists as ‘unpassable’ due to broken bridges. I was sure to find a way across the dry rivers or streams. It turned out that the road and all the bridges are being upgraded, and that the streams are indeed dry at this time of the year. The road was flat but in very, very bad condition most of the time.

Got invited to tea on the road side, and met Failez, student of Maths and Computer Science in Baku. The ride would have been almost pleasant, if it weren’t for the last 10km or so, which were, again, an uphill battle. The digital mercury climbed to more than 50°C (in the sun) multiple times today.

In Şəki an old karavanserai has been renovated beautifully and is again being used as a hotel. It is recommended by Lonely Planet, but due to multiple ‘de-recommendations’ by locals (“too expensive”) I decided against staying there. Instead I checked into a somewhat shabby place closer to where I arrived in Şəki.

There’s a silk factory here in town which cannot be visited but has a shop were its products are sold. That was my first stop after a cold (read: warmish) shower. Unfortunately, I’d forgotten my cash in the hotel…

Then I hurried to Cingiz Klubu, museum and cinema, which was supposed to show a movie at 6pm, hopefully with English subtitles.
Unfortunately, the movie’d started at 5pm (it was almost 6 when I arrived).

I walked up the street to the Karavanserai hotel. Single rooms are not really expensive and cost less than 5 Euros more than what I’m paying in the other place.

I was seriously considering staying another night in Şəki, if only to have slept a night in the Karavanserai and to go to the movies! Well, the Karavanserai is fully booked but at least I’m using their wi-fi right now.

It was almost too hot to do sightseeing, but I still managed to wander around a bit and have a look at the old khan’s fortress.

Cycled: 38km

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Zaqatala – Qax

Had to do some printing in Zaqatala before leaving. Fatima, the receptionist, let me use the hotel’s computer and we chatted a bit. She’s recently got a degree in economics from a Baku-based university. She says she misses ‘the noisy city’ and that it would be easy to find a job in the capital in her field of expertise. However, her family doesn’t want her to live there on her own, so she had to return to sleepy Zaqatala and now works in the hotel since five days.

I diverted off the Baku-bound main road to go to Qax (pronounced ‘Gach’ like the German ‘Dach’), and then Ilisu, a supposedly beautifully located village 15km from Qax. A guy warned me that the road would be bad… and it was.

About 10km from Qax I met another cyclist, 16-year-old B… I didn’t quite get his name. He’s been on a Turkish private school and speaks good English. He’ll go to the States for a year as an exchange student nine days from now. He’s cycling from Zaqatala to Ilisu, too, to visit family.

He wasn’t quite prepared for the 50km ride. He’d brought no water and we soon were sharing mine. I carried his bag. He needed more and longer breaks than I did. He took a bus from Qax. I’m happy to report that I’m fitter than a 16-year-old. ;)

I wandered/cycled around town briefly, visited two churches – one of them Georgian-orthodox, the other unknown/unused -, the local ethnographic museum with Russian-language guide, and had lunch.

Then I cycled northeastish towards Ilisu, which was a sweaty 15km uphill battle. Ilisu turned out to be nice but not spectacular, and extremely touristy. The only affordable hotel (as far as I knew) was located at the highest spot of the village – and fully booked. So I returned to Qax to stay there. It had taken me 1:45h to get to Ilisu, the way back was done in less than 15 minutes, including being stopped by the police to help them practice their English. It was practically non-existent, but they had a phrase book and we exchanged about 4 friendly sentences (“Welcome!”, “I’m glad to meet you!”, “How are you?”, “Good bye!”).

Random fun facts about Azerbaijan:

“Are you traveling alone?” is one of the questions I’m asked most often.

Many people invest their savings in gold – so many golden smiles, sometimes 32 pieces strong.

Apparently, there is hardly a restaurant that has a menu, or there are no prices listed. And you hardly get a receipt when paying. Dunno yet if that’s normal or a scam.

It is also very interesting to note that not all of the elders seem to speak Russian. It is the younger generation that more often (not always!) speaks that language. This is the exact opposite to Georgia, formerly part of the USSR just like Azerbaijan.

Azerbaijan is predominantly a Muslim country, but people have a very relaxed attitude towards religion. Women don’t cover their heads, and no-one cares when they show skin, or rather, no-one objects. People like to drink alcohol and do it openly. The (unofficial) dresscode for men demands long pants, and so far I have oblidged when not cycling, but today I was told I could walk around in shorts without any problems. When cycling I’m wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt anyway.

My Lonely Planet states about Qax: “Travellers are a rarity […]. The natives are friendly but expect to be stared at.” I can confirm that all of that is true for all of Azerbaijan I’ve been to so far.

Cycled: 66km

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Akhalsopeli – Zaqatala

When I mentioned to Sura this morning that I was ready to leave, he called his wife and she prepared a magnificent breakfast. I was almost forced to eat more and more. I successfully refused the vodka Sura offered.

The ride along the Alazani valley was easy, the road goes downhill most of the time. Not far from the Azerbaijani border I was invited to a couple of slices of water melon by some guys at the road side. I happily rested and chatted for a few minutes, as temperatures where soaring high again.

Rumor has it that guide books and maps that list the de facto-independent region of Nagorno-Karabakh separately from Azerbaijan will be confiscated if found by police. My Lonely Planet and my Caucasus map, both possible victims, were tucked away deeply inside my bags for today’s ride into Azerbaijan.
Well, crossing the border was easy. Three passport checks on the Georgian side, and two on the Azerbaijani one. No one was interested in my luggage.

The countryside is now considerably less lush than further north in Georgia. The rivers are almost dry. Temperatures reached 49°C (in the sun).

Had lunch in Balakən and then rode on to Zaqatala, where I’m staying for the night.

Azeris are extremely friendly. Many greet when I ride past (in contrast to the Georgians, who greet only after being greeted).

Cycled: 68km

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Back to Akhalsopeli

What a day.

I woke up and, still half asleep, saw some ants crawl on the tent. “Ha!”, I thought to myself, “Me in here, you out there!”
Hm, some ants? Quite alot of them actually. I looked closer and saw that some of them were outside indeed. And some of them were inside! Hm, there is a tiny hole where the three zippers of the tent’s entrance meet. Yes, that’s were they had been coming in and still were coming in.
I must have pitched the tent on a nest or on an ant road. To make a long story short, the entire tent and all of my equipment was full of them, inside and outside. Luckily, they weren’t aggressive at all.
It was quite a pain and took a while to clean all my stuff.

I continued along the river. It became narrower and faster-flowing but was easier to cross when necessary. Eventually I hit another dead end. A gorge, again, but this time there was no tree and no stone that I could use to climb across. There were still my smugglers’ footprints nearby, however I couldn’t figure out how they’d passed this obstacle.

Also, time was working against me. I’d told my host Sura and his friend Dato that I’d be gone for two days, but unfortunately I hadn’t told them what to do if I didn’t return in time or how long to wait before sending for help (dunno if they’d done that at all…).

So I decided to end the expedition here and to return to Akhalsopeli.
Of course, on the way back I was much faster and could phone Dato in the early afternoon to pick me up outside the village.

It was an unsuccessful visit to 42°N, 46°E, but it was a successful adventure nonetheless. I’m full of scratches and bruises, and I’m feeling very happy.

Sura and Dato seemed glad to see me and we had another supra with tasty mtvari (Georgian shashlik) as soon as I was cleaned up. I was tipsy at half past 4pm.

What else happened? More drinking. Dato introduced me to a group of Ossetians, showed me around a friend’s fish farm, and another friend’s winery, where I got three bottles of wine for free. Whereever we went there was alcohol. I tried and refused as much as I could. Got a hair and beard-do for free.

Later I had a chat with Sura’s wife (still don’t know her name) and kids (and later Sura, too) and was invited back to their place to celebrate New Year’s. Also, I should let them know should I want to attempt a visit to 42°N, 46°E again and they’ll try and hook me up with a local hunter who knows the mountains.

What an awesome day.

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On smugglers’ path

Last night was awful. ;)

Today, Sura’s wife cooked khinkali for breakfast, and Sura and Dato, friend of Sura’s, washed them down with vodka shots and beer. At 9am.

Then Dato (yes, the same guy) drove me to the starting point of my hike to 42°N, 46°E. There is a track that leads out of the village which shortened my walk by a few kilometers. The guys offered to pick me up again on my return, I’ll just have to ring them.

42°N, 46°E is one of the two unvisited Georgian degree confluences. It is located approx. 12km north of the Kvareli-Lagodekhi highway, towards the Dagestani/Russian border. The distance from the confluence to the border is 3km.
From the aerial footage I’d looked at I devised a route that follows the Avaniskhevi river for almost 9 kilometers in a northish direction, then turns southeast along a tributary for another kilometer or so. This is all uninhabited and forested wilderness and rivers and streams seemed to be the most viable ways to move forward along. Local lore has it that there are wolves, bears and poisonous snakes in the woods.

From the drop-off point I just followed the river for some time. Some time later I found a path! It was even wide enough for a car or ox cart, but it was of very bad quality. The track went more or less parallel to the river and ended at its bank after some time. I continued over stones and found a foot path that circumnavigated some impassable parts of the river bank. Who had made this path? I didn’t know. There were only two options, as far as I could tell. Either smugglers on their way to Dagestan, Russia, or hunters. I imagined it were the former, as that was certainly more exciting. I found foot prints in the sand and scratches from shoes on rocks, and I also found empty cigarette packets and resting places with remainders of food. They couldn’t have been here long ago. From then on I paid special attention not to leave any traces myself. And I became a master in reading and following their foot steps.

I had to cross the river a couple of times, first by jumping from stone to stone, later by wading through.

Then I hit a dead end. The river passed through a narrow gorge forming a waterfall. There didn’t seem to be any way to get through there. Also, there weren’t any paths leading up the sides of the gorge – they were too steep anyway.

I had a break there and took a refreshing bath by the waterfall, then climbed the rock that formed the gorge. It was easily possible! From that rock I could climb onto a dead tree that had fallen into an optimal position (or maybe was put there intentionally?) just above the waterfall. Then onto another stone and across I was.

Went back down to grab my stuff and actually did the crossing in no time and without any problems!

Later I had another break at the inflow of a small tributary. According to the aerial pictures, that tributary came pretty much directly from my destination, 42°N, 46°E, though I was still about 3 kilometers away from it.

I decided to follow that little stream, but it turned out to be a dead end for me. The hills left and right climbed steeply and were full of raspberry shrubs. I tried my best but gave up after a couple hundred meters (which equals about an hour of ‘walking’ in these conditions) and returned to the main river I’d been following (the Avaniskhevi).

It was 6pm when I got back there and I decided to stay there for the night. Pitched tent at a lovely spot on soft soil. Cooked some dinner on a large stone in the middle of the river and went to bed not much after 8pm.

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Telavi – Akhalsopeli

Managed to leave the guesthouse after an extended breakfast at 12pm and went to Guram’s place to say good bye. Well, I was force-fed with more bred, egg, cheese, melon … Took a fare-well picture of the family and myself and finally left their place at 2.15pm(!).

The first 10km were a pleasant down-hill ride into the Alazani valley. Then the road turned east and I followed the Alazani river, which flows towards Azerbaijan.

In the village of Akhalsopeli I stopped because it is going to be my jumping-off point to the confluence of 42°N and 46°E. That point hasn’t been visited so far.

I asked for a hotel (ok, that question was fake, I knew there wouldn’t be any in Akhalsopeli). The first guy I asked, owner of a car repair shop, offered me a bed at his place. I tried to explain from the start that I was going to hike to the mountains tomorrow, and that I’d like to stay another night after my return, and he partially understood, I think.

In town I met Heather from New Zealand and Stu from Scotland, a cycling couple on their way to Baku. Chatted with them briefly and exchanged phone numbers before Sura, my host, took me to his father’s place were a supra was held for/with me and I was drunk before I could resist. No further comments other than this: Georgia is awesome (to some degree ;) !

Cycled: 55km

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Telavi

Last night I lay awake for hours due to my still-upset metabolism before I finally fell asleep. Woke up late and decided to stay here in Telavi one more night. Spent most of the day sleeping.

In the afternoon I walked down to Guram’s house, the guy who’d saved me yesterday. I met his family and his kids and their friends and was invited to dinner at a restaurant with them. His kids and their friends are in their early teens or younger and are a lively bunch. Many of them speak good English, some German, and/or French and they interviewed me about myself and my travels. Had a khinkali eating contest with Nino, one of Guram’s daughters, which I won (by one piece). :)

At night Guram was invited to a supra by friends and I joined him, though as his driver. I have no idea if my driver’s license is valid here… but it was fun to drive his SUV through the night and on Telavi’s horrible backroads anyway.
At the supra they had so much food on the table that I didn’t manage to finish it, even though I tried hard!

Well, it was a great day!

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Tbilisi – Telavi

It was a hot day today. That, and the fellow cyclists I chatted with for hours, made me leave the hostel only at 12:45pm.

I left Tbilisi to the east, then turned northeastish. Unfortunately, that road to Telavi cuts through, ziggzaggs, and winds its way across the Gombori Mountains, located between the valleys of the Mtkvari and Alazani rivers. Temperures peaked at 48°C (in the sun).

The road crosses a pass at an altitude of approx. 1600m – but I didn’t get there, not by bike anyway. I’d brought only small amounts of food and there were only few villages and even less opportunities to buy some. No food, no good. I didn’t feel well at all and after 62km, just when the climb towards the pass started, I couldn’t go much further. I must have been in a pityful state, because a guy with a big SUV stopped and asked if he could be of any help. We managed to squeeze bike and luggage into his car and he dropped me off at a homestay in Telavi. The lady there revived me with a simple but good dinner.

Cycled: 62km
Hitched: 33km

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