Azerbaijan Summer

Xinaliq, by some definitions Europe's highest village.  How did I find myself here I wondered?, As myself and a friend stood side by side on a cobbled dirt track as the mist rose surrounding perhaps one of the least discovered yet stunning beautiful parts of a country few have explored.  The houses around us were stone, remote dwellings of villagers in one of the friendliest and welcoming places I have ever been.  We stayed with a family homestay, in a room with a bed covered with blankets, the floor and wall covered with colourful rugs, their bright colours a contrast to the hues of green and grey outside.  And a family who  cooked up a feast as soon as we arrived.  We tucked in enjoying the simple yet tasty food on offer.  Bits of chicken, bread and some vegetables.  Who would have known that this was basically it for the day, people here were poor.

View of Xinaliq

It was summer, but chilly in the evening and early morning as we strolled around this isolated settlement high in the Caucasus mountain range.  The day we arrived we were dropped off by a taxi driver from a larger settlement nearby who it seemed felt worried to leave us here, as if he were unsure of how we would be here.  As he drove off not to return until the following day, we kept our fingers crossed hoping communication did mean he would come back as there were no taxis in this isolated place, no bus or train on which to move on.  Just some 4x4's, who would arrive with boots full of random stuff, ordered for different families in the village, and dropped off if someone came by.

Our host seemed eager to please, a call was made to Baku (Azerbaijan's capital, where it seemed someone from the village had gone to make his fortune as well as learn some English).  Even up here there was mobile signal!.  We had hoped to make a hike to a natural fire vent, but were told an application should have been made in writing to the tourist office in Baku at least a month ago.  This area is still a sensitive border region with Russia, with troubles still brewing in Dagestan.  Our host didn't want to disappoint, so for a small fee decided to take us on a hike along a semi-dry river bed to see the local water falls.  Events on the trek took a turn for the surreal when scared by the potential of 'mountain dogs' our host insisted we run, jam ourselves into the front of a van (all 3 of us, plus the driver in the front until out of range of the 'dog'.  Apparently trained by Shepherds to protect their sheep in these remote mountains, the dog never materialised to our untrained eyes.  Further along the river bed, we stopped to take tea with a shepherd family.  Shoes off, into a cosy yet movable home for hot hot tea and bread and cheese.  A deal was done and our host appeared with a horse, apparently borrowed to help us cross the now swelling river.  The trek was worth it, the water falls beautiful and best of all we had seen no one but the shepherds for most of our journey.

Shepherd Family camp

Waking up the following morning and looking outside to the view that surely no one can tire of, we again considered why we were here.  How could we have ended up in a place like this, so isolated, so unknown, yet so beautiful?  And we thought of the flight bookings, the misunderstanding of the difficulty of getting a re-entry visa for Azerbaijan, and of Georgia, who would just have to wait for another trip.  And realised that some things really do turn out for the best.  The unexpected destination often gives more reward than the perfect put together plan.