Baku

 Having achieved a glorious success yesterday in crossing the border (this is even rarer than we had estimated; many bystanders ask “where did you come from? The border is closed!”), we had a return to a little rally drudgery today. But let me tell you of our dinner first. 

Nellie and Caron had tried for some time to find a suitable restaurant, sufficiently near to allow us to walk, sufficiently good to allow us to eat, sufficiently hygienic to enable us to see our food once only. They gave up. I googled ‘Michelin starred restaurant in Ganja’. Three results popped up. None had come anywhere near to having an undercover Michelin assessor in their establishments, but it served a purpose. We chose the nearest and indubitably the best (I always worry about that word, do I mean undoubtedly instead?) Through a mixture of mime and Google translate we ordered a bottle of finest Azerbaijan red wine, no beer being on the menu and we all decided against the neat vodka alternative. It was surprisingly good. Sommelier Charlie once again confidently predicting no hangover. We tucked in vigorously, again and again. 

This morning, Sommelier Charlie was berated for his inaccurate prediction. And so began a long journey to Baku across the plains of Azerbaijan. Flat, featureless and fatiguing as far as the eye could see. Six hours of driving added to by numerous fuel stops and a coffee halt in a strange complex of large and unoccupied restaurants. We were summoned into a small office-like room and we waited. Eventually coffee in paper cups arrived. I succeeded in spilling half of mine onto my hand and the top of my leg. Bravery was mentioned as I pretended it did not hurt. Nigel asked for milk and regretted it when a curdled ewes milk was proffered. “Time to go” someone said. “Who’s got some cash” someone else asked. There ensued a disheartening scene as we all fumbled and patted pockets. “Card?” We said brightly. “Yox” came the reply. Google translate told us he didn’t want that. “Dollar?” we followed “qətiyyən heç cür”. Apparently not. Surprising really. Only country I know where the opportunity to rip off tourists by giving a ridiculous exchange rate is flatly ignored. Stalemate. Eventually dollar won, at a ridiculous exchange rate. Thanks Chris. 

We arrived in this marvel of a new city on the coast with futuristic buildings, spectacular monuments and large swanky hotels (including ours). After a restorative beer some set off to do laundry, others to sleep but Ham, Ed and I visited the Military Trophies Park which is filled with captured Russian military equipment from the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict which Mr Trump has settled for good. Well done him. 

For a former tank officer it was quite something to see plenty of T-72s and BMPs. They didn’t look that impressive up close. 

Coffee, pre spill 

As far as the eye can see

Ditto

Nodding donkey

F1 straight