18 hours of train, 3 hours of marshrutky, 3 hours of driving. Mild electroshocks of curiosity pulled me out of the numbness of my body. I saw myself as the snake charmer of the road dyne in which our black Lada Niva was lost. The promising valleys were all standing there untouched with the pure wind brushing their fresh mop of hair and the soft rain oiling their curvy bodies. ‘’If I look long enough into their charming abyss I might put the evil eye on them. But they are beautyproof. They can ward it off with no fear.’’ A cup of warm chai and grapes, that skinny wise looking dog on my knees and the night fairy of the misty valleys hypnotised my fragile spirit. I lost myself in the fog of my dreams. No fear, no regret, only freedom.
I woke up on the peak of my heart.I had flown all the way up, I was 2.335m high.I could see well, fresh brewed wind had wiped out all my poisonous worries. I had made it, I was here among the real people with the warm smiles and the exotic souls. I looked at them, I touched them and i lived the way they showed me. They found their place inside my ignorant heart, I gave it to them. I prison no memory, I simply keep it like a hidden treasure. Magically wrapped inside its spooky clouds Xinaliq was now mine.
I walked fast. I saw people looking at me, i speeded up. The tyrannosaurs of modernity blocked my way. Luxurious facades, seductive ladies with their marble hearts. I forgot how to fly, I lost my pride in the sky.I felt smaller and smaller, I was gradually shrinking. I kept my head down and i learnt to behave. Being back to civilization showed me the way. Skyscrapers pained my eyes but i didn’t fear. The Caspian sea was all that I could hear. I made my way through the tiny stone paths where the patterned carpets and oil lamps whispered the legends of a glorious past. A cloud of madness was hiding the cenotaph of all the future desires. Gentrified mindsets, this is not what I admire.
Mud volcanoes, Qobustan
I was now in the desolated semideserts. I dived into the deepest recesses of humanity. Mud was giving birth to slow paced melodies of relief. The volcanoes were resting under the firing sun. A while later I could feel the vibes of antiquity. The petroglyphs were exposing their engraved secrets. My eyes played with their symmetric lines and milled their rough surfaces. The sun went down and the sky got naked. Gallant darkness ripped off the greedy clouds. The sparks of fire warmed up our tired souls. Wine and tasty meat proved to be the best recipes for sleep.
More photos on our journey around Azerbaijan can be found here.