05/10
Arriving at Baku station we said our
goodbyes to the volley ball team and our cabin mates. Finn was awaiting a
message from our Baku couch surfer Tyson but hadn’t had any luck so we ventured
off to a classy shopping centre to find some free McDonalds Wifi. With no
response from Tyson we booked a night in the only hostel in Baku – Caspian
Hostel and walked there through an amazing swarm of traffic jams and every
possible high end fashion store. It was certainly not what we had expected from
this city. At the hostel we met Tymek a Polish guy who had hitched hiked all
the way from Poland on a $15 a day budget attempting to reach Australia. He
spoke Russian and was also trying to get the boat across to Kazakhstan so we
exchanged details. On our walk to the hostel we saw heaps of posters
advertising the U17 Womens Soccer World Cup and the quarter finals were
tonight, what a treaty! After freshening up we hit up some local gutab for
lunch and then braved the metro system to get to the soccer stadium some 15km
from the city centre. Surprisingly the metro was super quick, train every 3
minutes, 40cents per ride and they had a myki like swipe card. This left us both
bemused about how Baku’s train system could be so superior to Melbourne’s.
Arriving at our metro stop and in some ghetto region of Baku we got some
directions from a old man which paid off and found the stadium! On account of
being foreigners our tickets were free and we found our seats. Every little
jizz raz kid from the surrounding ghetto seemed to be seated around us
screaming in my ears just for fun and largely not watching the quality game
that was going on between Germany and Brazil. Seeing an empty section of the
stadium with old people in it we asked a security guard if we could sit there
and thankfully we could. In our new and improved seats we now attracted the
attention of other locals, two volunteers called Nino and Shela. They were
super stoked to talk to novelty Australians and practice their English. They
offered to take us around the city during our stay in Baku and show us the
famous Miniature Book Museum. At the close of the first Quarter Final
German 1 Brazil 0 . During the break between games we headed outside for a
couple of beers as for some stupid reason they didn’t sever beers in a Muslim
country at a U17 Womens Soccer game.. Outrageous! Finding an al fresco bar we
ordered two of Azerbijans finest drop, Xirdalan. It tasted like shit and we
were unsure if the keg lines had been washed out properly. On ordering the next
round we found out that no that was not the case, it just tastes like shit. For
the next QF Ghana 1 Japan 0.
Finn received a call from Tyson at the
soccer and we arranged to meet him in the city, he said he would be the guy
with the beard. Naturally we were both stoked to meet another beard brother!
When we got there he didn’t have a beard, just some stubble. But that was ok as
he was a cool guy. Tequila bar was our first point of call and met a bunch of
Tyson’s expatriate mates. One of them was Tim, a some what celebrity in Baku
from his film clip Baku State of Mind which was a parody of New York State of
mind which went viral on YouTube, so much that they were in competition for the
Azeri entry into the 2012 EuroVision song contest http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4-U6TGX1T4.
Speaking of celebrities Tim informed us that Rihanna was playing at Crystal
Hall the tomorrow night, which Finn and I immediately agreed would be something
that we could not miss! After some much better beers (Efes) it was late
and we hit up a doner and went back to the hostel and dreamt of Rihanna.
06/10
After our night in Caspian Hostel, we
organised with Tyson to move to his place today- just whenever we got around to
packing our stuff and getting out after a pretty late one at Tequila Bar. But
by 11 am after skyping mum we were out the door and off in a taxi to Statistika
with the aid of Tyson’s directions. After successfully finding his apartment
and dumping our stuff, we decided our first job for the day should be to find
some tickets to see Rihanna. Given that it was a weekend, Tyson had the day off
and was kind enough to take us to take us- two questionably looking Australian
males- to the small ticket booth in the middle of Baku to buy Rihanna tickets.
What a nice guy! After hearing that their existed 35 manat tickets we were keen
to jump on them but as we arrived to the ticket office, the ticket lady told us
their were only 125 manat tickets left. That was going to hurt our pockets so
we decided we would go and get some lunch and mill over our decision. But it
wasn’t long after we arrived at the Shamrock Irish Pub for a solid Baku Burger
that we decided that #YOLO and seeing Rihanna in Baku was once in a lifetime. A
couple of pints and a burger later we decided to head back to the ticket office
and grab some tickets. But as we enquired to the availability of tickets she
replied with the words ‘SOLD OUT!’. Left deflated we headed back to the
apartment for a nap after a big few days.
Our nap time however was put to good
use as we brainstormed some alternatives to acquiring tickets to catch the
Barbadan Beauty in Baku. In the hope that the concept of scalping had reached
Azerbaijan (but worst case we would get to see the Crystal Hall Stadium
lit up like we had seen on Eurovision), we headed down to the stadium precinct
in the hope of acquiring a ticket. As we stood outside the entrance we
were soon approached by an old sleazy dude, a young kid and then a guy aged in
his mid 20s who told us in his perfect English that his girlfriend could no
longer come and he was not prepared to go by himself- what an idiot, its
Rihanna! After starting at 400 manat we quickly bargained him down to cost
price with our fingers crossed these were legit tickets. After being let in at
the first gate by security we began the fairly decent walk to the actual
stadium entrance with the thousands of other Azeris keen to find love in a hope
less place. On the walk we felt horribly under dressed as all the Azeri women
dressed like they were Princesses of China decked out in Diamonds not to be
Disturbia’d by some Australian Rude Boy’s Living their Life. Like wise the men
looked like they were ready to play some Russian Roulette, with
Umbrella-ella-ella in hand in case the weather turned and they could provide
some cover to their Only Girls in the World in the hope of some S&M a bit
later under All of the Lights. As we passed the final security check, we took
our seats and settled in for a night of entertainment. First up was Guletkin,
an Azeri- American keen to display her vocal skills through some Avril Lavigne
covers. After Guletkin, we were treated to DJ Magnum, a French dj who has made
friends with Diddy, Kanye, HOVA and obviously Rihanna. Playing the top 20 in Dj
form got the Azeri crowd going and they were now clearly ready for Rihanna but
to boost the excitement levels a tad more, some traditional Azeri drummers
dominated the stage. Now they were TRULY ready!
And #ohboy she did not disappoint!
Playing all the hits across an hour and a half was what we had come to see.
Delicious dance moves, solid singing and a curvaceous costume made for a great
show. As we left the building, singing all the songs we had just heard, we
headed back to the city centre to meet up with Tyson for a few beers to
download what we had just witnessed and then grab a kebab to solve our hunger
pains with the American Azeri Celebrity, Tim.
07/10
A late finish to the night before was
not conducive to an early start today. But that was alright as we had agreed to
meet up with 2 azeri girls that we had met at the quarter finals of the soccer-
these girls were volunteering and like many azeri’s were inquisitive to our
nationality and the reason we were in Baku. First stop on our tour of Baku was
the miniature book museum, one of the many little quirks of Baku. From what we
can gather it was set up by the wife of the former president who had a penchant
for miniature books of all languages, all dimensions and all subjects. As we
perused articles such as a Lithuanian Bible and a Japanese Dostoevsky under the
guise of the Greek lady in charge of the museum we were soon writing in the
guest book before heading to the next stop on our Baku tour- determined by us.
The European Film Festival was in town so we thought it may be a good
opportunity to get a dose of art in us after sport and music the previous few
days. As we arrived at the cinemas though we were told today was sold out so
that left us to walk the boulevard with the two girls in hope of finding
something else to do. And it seemed that the girls thought that Little Venice
may be this very thing- a slice of Venice in the middle of Baku, what on earth
could this be? But as we walked past ancient olive trees and cactus gardens we
soon arrived at Little Venice; a building surrounded by an oversized swimming
pool on which motorised gondolas cruised, taking young and old Azeri’s on a
cruise to experience Venice. Overawed by Little Venice we thought it was time
to head home, but that wasn’t before quick walk through Lover’s Park which
confirmed our need to abort the mission and roll back to Statistika.
As we arrived back at the apartment, we
reminisced about all things Rihanna before deciding to do something about
dinner. On the recommendation of Tyson we headed to the local doner and
lahmacun house. Harros ordered a doner while I ordered a lahmacun, a kind of
Turkish pizza topped with peppery mince meat, parsley and lemon- delicious. As
we waited not only did we make conversation with the friendly owner but we also
attempted to deduce the pecking order of the establishment; was the lahmacun
chef above the doner man or was it the other way around? Really tackling the
tough questions in Azerbaijan. Anyhow, as we headed back, Tyson had awoke from
his slumber and was ready to chat about everything Azerbaijan, Azeri and
Rihanna. Equipped with a bit more of an understanding of Azerbaijan ,we headed
to bed ready to acquire some visas…yeaahhhh budddyyyy!!!
08/10
With the knowledge that the Uzbek
embassy would open at 10 am, we bounced out the door and headed straight there
in anticipation of being let in and submittinbg our application at 10 onn the
dot. As we arrived, it seemed that we were not the first one there as we met
Raphael the Frenchman, who likewise was there to get an Uzebek visa. But as we
waited for 15 mins we were soon greeted by what we assumed was the Uzbek
receptionist who informed us that the Consul was busy today with a special
delegation and that we would not be granted his presence. Instead we would need
to call back at 3pm to see if the consul was available then. So we headed back
to the city centre via the 20 kopek (20c) bus, grabbed some Tandir bread and
headed for the park to sit down and ponder our next move. So we amused
ourselves until 3pm by walking the Baku city centre hitting up shops and doing
errands. And then we took a seat to make the call- to see of the Consul was
ready for us. But we were told to cll back in halfa. So we waited and then
called. No, we had to call back in another halfa. No, we had to call back in
halfa. We decided then that the next call would be the final call before we
resigned ourselves ot not seeing the consulate that day. The next call was made
and, no, they were not ready- call back in halfa. So we decided we would head
back to the apartment and start on dinner which we decided would be crispy
chicken fajitas with the chicken spice we had picked up in Istanbul. But as we
got home, then jumped into our trackies on a reciprocal calling arrangement
with Raphael he informed us that the Consul was ready to see us. So we jumped
straight back into our jeans, grabbed a taxi, and fought our way through the
Baku traffic to the Uzbek embassy where we then hit jogging pace to ensure we
wouldn’t miss what we thought was a small window of opportunity to acquire a
visa. But as we arrived, the security guard let us in through the large steel
gates where we headed upo the stairs and were greeted by the consul. Passing
him the paperwork, which we knew was all in order, he headed into his office.
Then as he emerged he told us our application had been approved and would be
ready to pick up tomorrow, after the payment through the International Bank of
Azerbaijan had been completed. With a sense of accomplishment we headed back to
the city centre to grab a beer with our main man Raphael. Returning to our
first bar of Baku, the Tequila Bar, a bar favoured by Scottish Offshore Oil Rig
Workers, we grabbed a few Efes and played some stick ball But as the three of
us played we were then asked whether one of us would play this Azeri boiler,
decked out in Adidas skins sitting at the bar chatting to some Scots. Once
again Harro dobbed me in to play and it wasn’t long before I was sharked; a
familiar story in the No Longer Anchored journey so far. But after being
humiliated in front of whole bunch of middle aged Scots it was time to head
hoem and grab some dinner- dinner that we thought we might’ve eaten earlier
before embassy duties got in the way.
Citimart delivered on all our
ingredients and we ended up with an awesome product, a product worth
demolishing in front of a few episodes of the inbetweeners before bed to
prepare for another day of embassy hopping!
09/10
Up early again and placing our embassy
attire on (jeans and a LS) it was feeling like a real work week. First off to
the bank to pay for our Uzbek visa and we became acquainted with the three
stage payment system left behind from the Soviet era. This goes as follows;
- See the lady at the desk tell her how much you
want to pay and to who. She prints 4 bits of paper, signs and stamps them
all and gets you to sign them
- Go to the Kassa (payment window) and hand over
the money plus the bits of paper. They stamp all the paper and hand them
back
- Go back to the original lady who again stamps
everything and hands you a receipt
What a ridiculous and inefficient
process!
Next was the Kazakhstan Embassy. This
much easier than first thought; rocking up with our forms the guy said yep no
problems, pay this money and collect your visa on Friday at 4pm. This worked
perfectly for us as we will have both visas by Friday and hopefully be in
Kazakhstan by the weekend!! Walking home we paid for the Kazakh visa at the
bank and hit up Cinnabon for a scroll and coffee. Next we called the Uzbek
embassy to tell them the money had been paid and she said to come over and drop
the passports off and hopefully the consul would be back from his meeting. When
we got there the consul was still not in and we just left our passports at the
embassy to pick up the next day. As we walked away from the embassy the consul
drove past us with his son. Hmmmm meeting we thought or just time to pick up
your kid from school…
With nothing on that night we decided
to see the first Semi Final of the world cup, France winning over Ghana and
advancing to the Final against North Korea. Finlay correctly guessed the score
of the Ghana France game and I owed him one beer, not much but it was one of
the first novelty games I have lost. Having watched three matches of U17 soccer
over the past couple of days we both concluded that this was the most girls we
had seen cry inconsolably in one place ever; post final losses. For dinner Finn
whipped up an artichoke, mozzarella, olive pasta bake special and then I
introduced him to an episode of the Inbetweeners.
10/10
After some seriously hectic days
walking across the city to embassies and banks we were over walking and wearing
pants (trying to fit in with the locals who frown upon the wearing of shorts
despite it being 35 degress) so we got up made some baked beans and eggs and
proceeded to potter around. Washing clothes, helping out Tyson by cleaning the
bathroom and kitchen and reading our books in between. After making a hole in
last nights leftovers we finished our washing and our blogging and then headed
to trusty cinnabon. If you don’t know what cinnanon is, the wiki says so http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cinnabon. One of the
single greatest things in baked good form is the cinnamon scroll and with a
coffee it is extra special.
Getting around them for the 4th time
this week we headed home, smashed out some Treme before dinner time. As Tyson
however returned from his somewhat tortuous adventures in Naxcivan, we met him
at the local Wednesday night expat hangout in Baku- Adams Curries 14 manat
buffet. After first planning to eat we decided that a doner for 1.50 manat may
be better for the budget so we grabbed a beer. After finishing the first it
wasn’t long before we were given the 2nd; then the 3rd, 4th,
5th and 6th. As the clock ticked over to 1am
and everyone thought that, being a school night, the night had already gone on
long enough, we started the walk home with Tyson’s Scottish friend Rachael and
picked up a couple of doners on the way home.
11/10
A little bit dusty from the night
before we headed for trusty Cinnabon for breakfast. After eating here for the
past 3 days the employees knew us and each time we entered they giggled at us…
all of which was fine as we were now used to being looked and pointed at for
being foreigners and having awesome beards. Next we picked up our Uzbek visa,
tick! And went to the city centre to meet Laura – a friend of one of Tysons
mates. She had come to Baku a couple of days ago to try and get a job with BP
and we said we could show her around now being the locals that we were. While
waiting for Laura we had one of the most completive games of paper, scissors,
rock that I have played and coming off a recent loss to Finn I was determined
to kick his ass. Womens tennis rules; best of three sets and first to 6 up by
2. At one set a piece Laura arrived and we had to tell her to wait as the 3rd set
played out. My serve was hot and took him out 6-2 in the final. Taking Laura on
a tour we showed her the famous statue in fountain square of the modern Azeri
girl – tight jeans, a crop top showing midriff, sunglasses and an umbrella. You
have to remember that Azerbaijan is a fairly strict Muslim country so this
statue seems super strange. We took Laura to the park bulvar and found a museum
which had a fairly average exhibition about sport and a more interesting
exhibition on the history of Azerbaijan and its independence. This was
basically fairly biased about how awesome a bloke Heyder Aliev was and how
nasty Armenia is but educational none the less. Wanting to watch a movie we
went to the local shopping centre however all the movies seemed to be in
Russian so Laura went home and Finn and I found some ten pin bowling to play.
Fairly fatigued we headed home for a 30 for 30 episode and cooked a yellow
chicken curry for dinner. That night we got a text from Raphael saying that the
boat for Kazakhstan should be leaving tomorrow. Knowing that we could only get
our Kazakh visa at 4pm we went to sleep with fingers crossed that it would
leave later than that.
12/10
In the hope that today would be the day
that we get out of Baku, we packed our bags and readied ourselves for a boat
journey that had at best, mixed reviews. To prepare ourselves we first visited
citi mart at the bottom of our building to get supplies, especially because at
worst we had heard boats take two weeks for what is a 45 minute flight!!
Following this we headed to Baku’s best English language bookshop to replace
our lost (and still lost and whereabouts: unknown) Central Asian Lonely Planet-
our proverbial bible for this trip. Then it was on an ATM tour of Baku to
withdraw a bunch of US dollars in anticipation for our sooner than expected
adventures into Uzbekistan. The reason for US dollars in Uzbekistan will become
evident later!
But after our all our errands were run
the only thing left to do was, with bank receipts in hand, go to the Kazakh
embassy to acquire our visa. Showing up half an hour early in the hope that we
they would take us early, we were told that this was not possible and instead we
would have to wait until 4pm. At 4 on the dot we rang the bell, were let inside
and picked up our passports. Then it was a run back to Statistika to grab our
bags and head to the ferry port. With directions to the ferry ticket office in
hand, provided by nomadbikefamily.fr (check it out if you’ve got a chance-
these guys are crazy) we jumped in a taxi and headed there asap. As we
got to the port the instructions exactly matched so our excitement grew. After
trying to enter the port we were directed to the ticket office where the
gentleman greeted us and then began explaining something in Russian- something
about machina and then pointing back towards the city centre some 8 km away.
But with our powers of deduction and limited Russian we thought this meant that
the passenger ticket office may be somewhere up the road from where we just
came. So as we walked up the road in search of a ticket office we had no luck.
Harro headed back to the ticket office in hope of more luck with some more
Russian but we were greeted with the same response-something about machine and
then a point. So we thought we mustn’t have walked far enough up the road so we
started the walk right back up the road to the main road in search of the
ticket office. But with no luck. It was at this point, with no idea where the
ticket office was and no ticket and hour and a half after Raphael told us to
rush to the port that we conceded defeat- we had missed the boat!
This meant it was time to hail a taxi
and head back to Tyson’s apartment. Dumping our stuff we decided we needed to
work out where we went wrong. So browsing the various travel forums and nomad
bike family again, we worked out that we had in fact gone to the same port as
the bike family but this was for vehicles- trucks, buses, cars, motorbikes and
occasionally bicycles- or things known as ‘machina’. The train cargo ferry that
catered for solely pedestrians leaves from the new port, the port closest to
town. WE HAD GONE TO THE WRONG PORT! Trying to see the funny side of the whole dilemma
left us in need of a beer and a good feed.
We decided it would be nachos with all
the trimmings and it probably took the title for best made meal of trip.
Ridiculously good! As we sat down to eat, Tysons Azeri colleague, Elshad,
rocked in to wash his clothes. With Tyson’s washing machine taking the form of
an old soviet model, Elshad was used to waiting a while so we offered him some
nachos and recounted our story from the afternoon. We then invited him to the
soccer, the under 17 women’s world cup final being held the following night
which he was excited about- not so much the soccer but more for seeing Shakira
live and pregnant in concert. So we made a date and agreed to meet him tomorrow
night to see chicks run around and chase a soccer ball. Then it was Treme
before we put ourselves and our frustrations to bed.
13/10
This morning we needed to find the
actual ticket office so with the alternate directions in hand we set out via
Cinnabon of course. The directions were like a treasure map and were so well
written that we found the infamous “Kassa” – a non descript white building with
no windows, one door and the word Kassa written in red paint on the side.
Jackpot! However the kassa lady was not there, so we decided to wait and see if
she would come. While we waited a group of kids started playing soccer and soon
motioned for us to join in, a classic game of kick the ball at the wall formed
with the smallest kid as the goal keeper. We all took pot shots at him
impressing all with our skills. Then one kid crossed the ball to Finlay. Finns
eyes lit up and he jumped high like a gazelle into the air heading the ball
into the goals. Landing down he was stoked at his athleticism but knew that
something was amiss; his pants no longer had a crotch. In this enthusiasm he
had ripped a gigantic problem up the inside of his thigh and his whole groin
exposing his jocks! I was in hysterics however soon realised that this would be
a mild issue given that we had 5km to get back home and being in a muslim country
where wearing shorts gets you heaps of looks popping your junk out cant be the
best idea. Luckily Finn dresses like a wigger and he pulled his oversized
tshirt down forming some sort of dress and hobbled out to the main street and
we found a taxi back home.
With a fresh pair of pants we set out
to see the Heyder Alyev cultural centre before the U17 Final. Pretty much
everything is named after Heyder in Baku because he is a boss. Anyway this is
one of two structures in Baku is envisaged to put the city on the international
map! The other one being the flame towers which were both designed by and
Iraqi-British architect Zaha Hadid and you can see a short doco on how these
were built http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9oA2VNArmxE.
The centre has some strange Sydney
Opera house feel to it and although it wasn’t yet finished so we couldn’t go
inside the centre has a library, concert hall and museum. Afterwards we rushed
off to meet Elshad at the stadium for the final and finding our seats who were
we sitting next to but Tim, Martin and Brad, Tyson’s expat mates. The game
itself was a ripper after some traditional Azeri dancing to open it. France
dominated the first half keeping the North Koreans in their naturally oppressed
state and went 1 up. The second half the French played like whingy little
French girls and the larger bodies of the North Korean’s started to muscle the
French out. This may have been due to the fact that the NKs were not actually under
17 years old…. The end result was 1 – 1 and with no extra time it went straight
to penalties. As the first few penalties were taken I noticed that the some
20,000 strong Azeri crowd were all booing the French penalty takers and
cheering the NKs. Baffled I questioned Elshad why; he explained that the French
Parliament was trying to pass a law that makes in illegal not to recognise the
Turkish genocide of the Armenian people and since Azerbaijan are friends with
Turkey and hate Armenia they hate the French (another humours Azerbaijan –
Armenia story can be found here http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2012/sep/06/azeri-axe-murderer-caucasus).
After five penalties were taken it was
even and eventually the French keeper saved a NK shot for the French to win 7-6
in penalties and the NKs looked doomed for a life of forced labour camps.
Shakira who everyone was waiting for finally appeared shook her stuff however
we were behind her and the speakers at the back of the stadium didn’t work so
you couldn’t really hear her; but that didn’t stop Finn from dancing like a
prepubescent teenage girl. To celebrate we all headed off to a bar and drink
the night away with even more peace corps peoples who were in the city for the
weekend and shifting hard. After a few pints there was not much going so we
decided to head home after a pretty successful day!
14/10
Stoked after a largely awesome day
yesterday I decided it was time to practice my Russian and call the ferry
ticket lady. However I was maybe a bit too ahead of myself and I couldn’t
really understand her. So we had to find someone who was fluent in Russian,
which shouldn’t be hard give most Azeris’ speak Russian. So I thought that
since we were well known down at Cinnabon we could ask them to do us a favour
and call. Cinnabon is attached to Schlotzkys (another American chain) and a
very attractive Russian looking Azeri girl who worked for Schlotzkys was able
to help us out. She called the ferry lady and but with no luck; no ferry today,
call back tomorrow. So we asked the Schlotzkys’ girl if she could call for us everyday
and she was happy to, Win! With this knowledge we knew that we could just relax
for the rest of the day so we chilled out, Skyped home and watched some
Treme.
15/10
A new day meant the possibility of a
new boat..but was this going to be the case? Our first port of call was the hot
Azeri at Schlotzky’s which also meant more Cinnabon- at this point it was fair
to say we were addicted. So as Harro went and handed her the phone while I
ordered Harro was told that there would be no ferry today but there would
probably be one tomorrow-that meant that if it wasn’t tomorrow it would most
definitely the next day which wasn’t such a bad result. However, our fingers
were crossed that the ferry would come tomorrow and we could get deep into
Central Asia asap.
Equipped with this valuable information
regarding the ferry’s departure soon our attention turned to the events for the
day- this required some serious thought as we had ticked off most of our Baku
List and hit up most of the tourist spots Baku had to offer. But we knew there
must be more errands to run and more unique things to do in this city.
Prioritsing our daily agenda we went off in search of some pants for me in an
attempt to recoup my losses from the day before. After already sussing out Jack
Jones a couple of days earlier, the Baku store delivered with a decent pair of
dark Chinos that had the structural integrity to hopefully see out the trip.
Then it was off in search of a haircut for the NLA crew - Harro was after a
Malceski while I was after something more conservative knowing that this could
be fraught with danger. After perusing the streets we knew well on the route we
took daily from Statistika to Fountain Square, down a small alley we found a
barber shop with a barber who looked fresh out of jail in his white coat and
assortment of tough stickers. I was happy that Harro took to the chair first,
and as I sat patiently browsing the various male haircut pictures on a poster
on the wall, finding a picture to point to when it came to my turn, I soon
looked up to see Nick Malceski standing tall in the Azeri capital. Not only
however did Harros have a ripper haricut he had also had the beard wash, ear
clean and hot towel on the face- all for 10 manat or 10 bucks. I was up next
and I was confident that I would end up with the picture I had pointed to.
After the barber had done his best work with his scissors with which he had
amazing control, I too got the beard wash, ear clean and hot towel. Then it was
onto Phase 3, the styling phase. I was treated to a David Beckham slick back
with turquoise gel and a bit of hairspray to top it off. An all round success-
Malceski and Beckham were on the streets of Baku!
Feeling clean and no longer dishevelled
we decided we would heed Elshad’s advice and head to the Fire Mountain. The
trip to the fire mountain required us to get the metro then a public bus from
the metro station to the end of the line. This sounded easy enough and it was.
We arrived at the mountain, paid our entrance fee then checked the fire. As the
name suggests it was literally a fire in/on a mountain. Pretty small but cool
enough to check out while we were in and around Baku. But probably more interesting
than the fire mountain itself were the oil wells scattered throughout the
residential suburbs of the city. Not only were they scattered through the
suburbs but suburbs and satellite towns were sometimes divided in half by huge
chunks of land devoted to drilling oil- this confirmed that Azerbaijan was an
oil driven economy.
After catching the mountain we
headed back into the city centre and had organised to grab traditional Azeri
dinner with Tim, the famous Azeri American. The restaurant of choice was
Firunze which had a great reputation amongst all the expats as a place serving
awesome Azeri food at a reasonable price. Over a beer we discussed all things
Baku, Azerbaijan, work and study before our plov, dolma and salad emerged.
Demolishing it quickly we soon were in need of another drink and Tequila Bar
was again the bar of choice- stick ball was the main draw card. We settled in
over a pint and couple of games of stick ball before Tim said his goodbyes and
headed home. It was then left to us to play a few more games of stick ball and
make some new friends- friends in the form of Scottish offshore oil rig workers
working in Baku with BP. Our friend of the night was Kevin who after
introducing himself and buying us a pint began to explain in detail, using the
pool table blackboard, the lucrativeness of the ‘deal of the century’ that BP
signed with the Azeri government to drill for oil in the Caspian Sea. The deal
essentially gave the Azeri Government 80% of the oil revenue that BP sold ie a
butt load of money. A lesson that explained everything about the oil wealth
floating around this city. It was then time to roll on home expecting that the
next day would be the day that we sail across the Caspian.
16/10
Our morning ritual continued today as
we got up, got ready and packed our bags hoping that an Aktau ferry would leave
today. Then as we were ready we headed down the elevator and risking life,
crossed the road to Cinnabon in search of our hot Russian speaking Azeri bird.
As we opened the door there she was in her lime green polo and black visor
awaiting our arrival. As Harro headed over with the burner, I ordered and
greeted the Cinnabon employees that served us so well the past couple of days.
As I sat down I watched intently for the look on both Harros face and on the
face of the hot Russan for some good news. And there it was..a smile! The lady
on the end of the line told us that tickets for the boat leaving today would be
available from 1pm. So we downed our coffees and our Cinnabon Classics© and
headed down the street to grab supplies for the journey- fruit, tandir bread,
nutella and baked beans. Then we headed upstairs disrupting the work of Tyson’s
cleaning ladies (which he told us exactly not to do), grabbed our packs and
hailed a taxi to head down to the port. This time there was to be no mistake-
we were going to be at the ticket office an hour early with money and passports
in. As 1 o’clock rolled around, the Russian ticket lady appeared just as she
had said and invited us inside to get 2 tickets on today’s boat which she said
would leave at 3pm. With tickets in hand we walked down the port road, to the
waiting shelter where we met Ilias, a Turkmen studying in Russia, his friend
and a bunch of old ladies. They had all been there, in the shelter, for a
couple of nights waiting for the Baku- Turkmenabat ferry to arrive and then
depart. With this information we acknowledged that in fact we had a good deal
with our Aktau boat. After an hour in the shelter it was time to board and this
meant navigating the very relaxed and casual Azeri passport control and customs
(the most scary was the small pet lobster in a 2L coke bottle which the office
eagerly showed off)- in stark contrast to the passport control and customs that
confronted us on entry. But as we walked up the gangplank we handed our
passport and tickets to some guy on deck before we took a seat in the Salon and
waited to be shown to our rooms. To pass the time we checked out the boats
facilities which included several levels of outside decks and A TABLE TENNIS
TABLE! We knew this was going to get a workout! Soon we were shown to our
room, a 4 bed room for the 2 of us, and then the bathroom before it was free
time and we could do what we pleased. A few games of table tennis were had
before we were introduced to, what it seemed were the only other passengers on
the boat- 5 azeri guys ranging in age from 18 to 50 going to Aktau on
holiday/to build a school/to run drugs. Then it was time to depart- 3 hours
late- but depart all the same. We were on our way to Central Asia. Shat was
about to get real!
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