Azerbaijan: is it worth it to go

- Where is my hijab? - the daughter grumbled angrily, fingering her summer T-shirts. - Where are we going? They’ll steal us and sell us in a harem! I don’t want to go to the harem, I want to go to Spain! Or to Italy! To the beach!

- When in the nineties my colleague went to his home in Azerbaijan, he immediately put on his uniform. So, just in case. - Father carefully looked at me and pointedly repeated. - Just in case.

Mom didn't say anything. But her thoughts actually materialized in the form of cartoony clouds above her head, on which one could read: "Mountains ...", "Islam ...", "Polygamy ...", "Blondes ...".

Well, we returned from a car trip to Azerbaijan, and I have something to tell about this country. About the high mountains and the scorched desert. About local residents and the well-being of blondes on the streets of Azerbaijani cities and villages. And show too ...

On the way, I again stopped by the church in Gergeti, traditionally densely occupied by local four-wheel drive business. Drove in to show the family beautiful views and to check how my new car creeps through the mountains. And if in Santa a couple of years ago I was in some places a little exciting, now I was just driving.

This time I diligently broke myself and tried to photograph people. I hope that some frames will work out. Georgian grandmother from Sighnaghi:

And then we teleport across the border and find ourselves in the Azerbaijani village of Ilisu, where we live two nights, while climbing mountains on foot and by car.

In the morning I go to the local market, attracting the attention of the entire area, to buy homemade buffalo cheese for breakfast (I was shocked myself), selected cherries at 70 rubles per kilogram and excellent Azerbaijani tomatoes that have never been surpassed by anyone. 36 rubles per kilo!

We get with the help of a strange friend to a waterfall of incredible beauty. At the same time, I tirelessly remove the colorful stone streets of the surrounding villages. Ha! I would know what streets await us next.

Dusty Sheki, where there are two quite real caravanserais, in one of which we were happy to bargain for all kinds of souvenirs, a delicious halva and a palace of Sheki khans, accompanied by a good guide.

He put the car in the shade under a tree and did not pay attention to a suspiciously free place, although in hot countries a place in the shade where you can park a car, usually worth its weight in gold. The tree turned out to be mulberry, and upon arrival our car was literally bombarded with ripe berries and looked as if I had just broken through a regiment of crazed paintball players.

Well, how can one not stop here every 100 meters?

Because of these images, I arrive at our next destination after dark and crawl for a long time along the narrow stone streets, sometimes with a very noticeable slope, in search of our guesthouse.

We wake up in front of the mosque, in a small square where the stone-paved streets of one of the old trade and craft centers flock.

We bargain in local shops for various tasty herbs for tea. Meet the blacksmith. Really, still horseshoe horses.

By the way, only here I realized how to drink tea, and learned how to play backgammon. I didn’t just understand, but set a goal to find the right armoids for myself (such pear-shaped glasses), as well as find the right, big backgammon. Found in Baku and brought home!

Now there will be tea only from the right utensils, and I will do my best to remove these stupid tea bags from the house, killing the very essence of tea drinking.

On the way back we admire the mountain roads. Ha! If I knew what awaits me next.

At the entrance to Baku, we turn onto the dirt road to get to one interesting place, and desert landscapes begin to fascinate me, because in fact, thanks to these pictures, which I saw at one time on the border of Georgia and Azerbaijan, I wanted to come to this country .

But the hell is still there, horror.

And after about a couple of hours we settle in the very center of Baku, literally a hundred meters from the old city, Icheri Sheher. By the way, who thinks that driving in Georgia is bad, come to Baku at rush hour. Ofigete.

This city is gorgeous, what can I say.

But on the other hand. Either the transmission line support, or the oil pump, and so on to the horizon. That's about how I imagined Baku 100 years ago, when they scooped up oil literally with buckets from each puddle.

We rode to mud volcanoes, where a bunch of taxi drivers crowded nearby. But if you do not immediately go back to the track leading back to the city, but climb along the dirt road to the nearest peak, it turns out that there, a little to the side, there are other volcanoes, albeit not so raging, and beautiful views, and cool tracks .

We saw the red mountains of Khizi:

Whoo! And we are again in the real mountains and climb to the village of Khinalig, which is at an altitude of more than 2000 meters. Well, there definitely must be the most beautiful road.

We live here all day and sleep right on the floor, under two cotton blankets at once, because it is so customary here. My girls were impressed not so much by the fact that the Khinalugs are descendants of the ancient Caucasian Albania and have their own language, but how much they drown the houses with dung - dried cow dung. And the fences here from him, from manure. Yes, and at home, in general, too.

From Khinalig we descend into the valley around, through the mountains, along a dirt road. And here she is definitely the most beautiful in this journey:

They discussed with traffic cops a photo of my car, but at a strange rate and received a prayer rug and a rosary as a gift from the imam in the mosque. They torn off the bottom protection mount, which I prudently put on the eve of the exit, and flattened some piece of iron from below, next to the driver’s wheel.

And everywhere, literally in every city, they constantly communicated with the locals and marveled at their hospitality. Azerbaijan very, very pleasantly surprised me. And answering your own question - to go to this beautiful country is not only possible, but also necessary.