Month: Aug 2026

Let‘s not talk about the breakfast again, LOL. I set off after 9 a.m. for my daytrip of today. Sunday morning, little traffic. I had one destination for today: ride ip the Georgian Military Road to Stepantsminda in the high Caucasus mountains. Today should be the day with least rain, maybe later in the day. It is located close to the Russian border. The Road playes an important role, up to this day. It is one of the two passes over the Greater Caucasus mountains between Russia and Georgia. The Georgian Military Highway is a historic 200-kilometer (124-mile) mountain road connecting Tbilisi, Georgia, to Vladikavkaz, Russia, across the Greater Caucasus range. It is linked with the control of Imperial Russia over the South Caucasus in the 19th century. Currently it is the only open Russian border post in the South-Western part of Russia.

The first part was a motorway, later a good country road. With higher altitude, road conditions got worse, of course, but were acceptable. I feel that the XBR is running too rich again, like she did during the last trip, inclusing on the Transsiberian Highway. With rising altitude this gets worse. It can‘t be a dirty air filter anymore, so the only conclusion is the the carburettor jet is a bit too large. Well, I‘m not in a hurry, I apply a very relaxed speed, altough the decreasing power at higher altitudes was very noticeable.

First I rode in a river valley with lofty mountains to the sides. Then the mountains got higher and higher. The beautiful views got more and more.

At 40 km from the destination, I passed an enormous new bridge leading into a huge tunnel that was not yet open. I deduced from a sign with many Chinese characters that this was probably a Chinese project of the ‚New Silk Road‘ programme, provinding a shortcut to the alpine mountain road with some hairpins that was in front of me. You can see the importance of this North-South connection when you study the truck numberplates: Georgia, Russia, Turkey, Armenia.

Slowly, the XBR and I were fighting our way up until we reached a large ski resort (Gudauri) that seemed to be very popular also in summer. Just like a French ski resort, just somewhat less fancy. I wondered what the altitude was so I checked the GPS….oh, 2200 m! That was higher than expected, no surprise the XBR was panting so much. Higher and higher went the road until it peaked at 2390 m and lead down to the valley in which Stepansminda is located.

I stopped more and more to take pictures, the decision to avoid any stops was right, the weather would change so let‘s enjoy the sunshine while it lasts. In Stepansminda, I took a turn and ascended the small road to the highlight of the day: the Gregeti Trinity church at an elevation of 2170 m, dating from the 14th century. Probably one of the most iconic sights and attractions of Georgia.

I parked the XBR and visited the complex, surrounded by hordes of tourists. When I returned to the bike, it started to rain. Perfect timing. Let‘s get out of here, there was blue sky to the south. I crossed the Jvari again, the rain had stopped. So did I to take some pictures. Not far down, I stopped at the Russia–Georgia Friendship Monument that is a large round stone and concrete structure overlooking the Devil’s Valley. Inside the monument is a large tile mural that spans the whole circumference of the structure and depicts scenes of Georgian and Russian history. The views are spectacular.

I filled up in Gudauri to have peace of mind for the rest of the day. I rode down the hairpin road again, feeling a bit like in the Alps. Down in the valley, I passed a signed;;;;and turned around. What? Hofbräu beer in Georgia? Munich’s best beer in this surrounding? I need to investigate this. The place looked 100 % legit, perfectly original like a Bavarian beer place; This must have been installed by the brewery itself. The menu hosted mainly Georgian food, but that was all right. I ordered a small beer and something small, just some sausages…which turned out a enormous portion, Georgia style. But the beer was excellent, just like back home. They even matched Bavarian grumpiness perfectly.

I checked the weather app…oh! I’ll be riding in the rain later, let’s get going. The only stop I permitted myself was at Ananuri castle. The view over the dam lake is quite something.

Soon, the rain started with some 40 km to go. To my surprise, the was a huge traffic jam for no obvious reason. I man, huge. I rode for 10 km along the standing car and continued when the queue extended to the motorway. Sunday afternoon return traffic? The remaining 25 km to Tiblisi were also very slow. While filtering, I noticed some strange vibration from the back, hmmm. Only the last 7 km went at a normal speed. Back at the hotel, I checked the back of the bike….whoa! The swingarm had a lot of play8 This is not possible! Could the famous Emil Schwarz bespoke bearings have caved in?? I could see the axle move a bit….wait a minute….I picked the spanners and tightened the nut….now, fixed! Phew, that was a close shave! The wheel seemed all right now. Good.

Back in the room I had to plan the next days and the visit to Armenia. I checked the weather situation and the places to visit and the accommodation options. In the end I will do the same thing again: ride to Yerevan, reserve one day for a city trip and one day for a road trip to the eastern part of Armenia. As I was still pretty full from the sausages, I just wanted something small. It was already late so I chose to go to a wine restaurant next door. I ordered a missing Georgian dish, probably the signature dish of Georgia called Khinkali dumplings. The accompanying red wine was excellent. Guess what, I thought it was a snack, but the plate was pretty full.

Tomorrow I will enter Armenia.

The morning started a bit underwhelming. I purchased a voucher for breakfast and was a bit disappointed what I found there. Well, I found enough to fill my stomach. After that it was time for the big programme today: a guided tour through the Old Town of Tiblisi. To get to the meeting point, I took the metro, it was the quickest mode of transport, next to the hotel and only one station away on the other side of the river. But first, you had to descend to the platform by a moving stairway. The platform is located a whopping 60 metres underground, the escalator is 120 metres long and takes more than two minutes to get down.

A typical example of a Soviet metro. I arrived at the meeting point before time.

We walked through some streets to stop near the river at the Metekhi Church. From there, there is a great view on the many hills that surround the Old Town. The church was built in the 13th century, probably on the remains of a much older one. At every stop, our guide us some background on history, culture and language. We could stroll around and watch the mass that was taking place inside.

The UNESCO-listed polyphonic singing of the choir is impressive and the harmonies a musical rollercoaster. After regrouping, we went down to the Europa Square, passing a piece of the Berlin Wall, a gift from the German government, and lined up to take the telepheric to the top of the hill on the other side of the river. There, we walked to the huge statue of ‚Mother of Georgia‘: The statue depicts a woman in traditional Georgian dress who represents the dual nature of the Georgian national character: 

• Left Hand (Bowl of Wine): Welcomes guests and friends with traditional hospitality.
• Right Hand (Sword): Ready to fight off any enemies who threaten the country.

A lady not to mess with. After enjoying the views over the huge city (1.3 M inhabitants, 30 % of the population of Georgia), we descended and crossed the river Kura on the impressive Peace Bridge.

We entered the Old Town and were flankes by souvenir shops ledt and right that all seem to sell the same stuff. We stopped at the tilted tower of the puppet theater that has become a sort of local attraction, it shows twice per day a string puppet play.

The next stop was at the Anchiskhati Basilica, the oldest church from the 6th century. The Anchiskhati Choir based out of the Anchiskhati Basilica is the world’s leading exponent of Georgian polyphonic choral music. People were flocking to the church to kiss a silver cross in the hands of a priest.

We could have a short rest in the adjacent garden in the shadow. Next, we went to the church of St. Nino that I had seen the night before. St. Nino is believed to have brought christianity to Georgia in the end of the 3rd century. While we were watching the church, our guide purchased our snack lunch.

We munched our pastries in a park nearby under large plane trees. There, as during the whole walk, there was time to talk with the other participants and we had a lot of good and amicable discussions. Ell was able to create a kind of team spirit in the group. By the way, I never had tarragon lemonade before, interesting.

On the way to our last stop, we passed the underground passage of the Maiden Bazaar where you can acquire all kind of products, from old medals to souvenirs or wines. A picturesque place.

We passed the sulphur baths and walked upwards a small canyon with steep sides. At the end, a refreshing water fall awaited us, one of the two in the city. This was the end of the tour and Ell ask everyone about their impressions. It was quite fun, an open minded and funny group.

After five hours, it was time to get some rest in the hotel, so I strolled through the side streets and discovered some interesting sights.

After finishing yesterday’s report, a quick gym session and a shower, I left again to get some dinner in a wine bar, some eggplant with walnuts salad and some chicken in truffle, vulgo, mushroom sauce, washed down with some nice red. Tiblisi is flooded with wine bars and restaurants, wine bars and bars in general. The atmosphere in this part of town is quite nice.

Tomorrow finally I will finally head for the high mountains!

The morning could only start later. It was not because the night before, I had carelessly ordered a double Macallan whisky, not knowing that a single shot is 50 ml! So that makes five drams in one go. Nice.

No, I was fine, but the breakfast would only be served at 8 p.m. But what a huge buffet it was! I packed my stuff and only at 9:40 I left the plush resort by the huge front porch, with a chugging and rattling XBR…

I followed the road to the northwest, along the mountain range. The road was excellent as yesterday until….it wasn‘t. What had happened? The next 30 km were of the ‚at least it‘s not raining‘ kind, potholes, bumps, tarmac patchwork. Horrible. The maximum possible speed was 50 a 60 km/h with maximum concentration. At least the trees next to the road were nice.

And then suddenly in Zaqatala, the nice tarmac was back. I filled up and topped up the oil… an acceptable oil consumption considering the high temperatures.

Slowly the temperature started to rise again and after another 50 km I reached the border area. Since the last town there was no traffic. Remember, the land border is only open for trucks and exiting tourists.

Passport control at the entrance to the compound. At the control station: passport bike registration. Handed to a clerk in an office. Waiting. Patience. Then to another officer in another office. Visa. Patience. Open the panniers. Ok. Leave to the exit of the compound. Show passport and ticket to leave. Good. Ride on the bridge in nomansland.

The letters state just ‚Georgia‘ without the usual ‚welcome to‘. This was meant as a warning. Georgia is somewhat rougher than gentle Azerbaijan. As Emily Lush puts it in her fantastic travel blog:

Travellers have been conditioned to expect instant warmth or overt friendliness. In reality, everyday interactions in Georgia tend to be more reserved – people rarely smile or make small talk with strangers, which can be misinterpreted as unfriendliness.

This is most noticeable in the service industry, where norms are very different from what you might be used to. Interactions are typically direct and task-focused, with little emphasis on performative friendliness or cultivating rapport. If these are your first points of contact, it’s easy to come away with the wrong impression – even though this reservedness (sometimes borderline hostility!) is usually nothing personal.

Well, the treatment at the Georgian border was exactly like that. Very formal and demanding. Passport. Bike registration. Mandatory travel insurance. Hotel booking. How much money? Show me! Finally, everything was inserted in the system and I could go.

I started the XBR and rolled 10 metres. Stop! Customs control! What? Open panniers. Open everything! I had to show and open everything. Panniers, tank bag, bags, jacket. Everything was stripped by three people. And only one had a proper uniform. With stoic patience, I complied, but assembled and fixed everything with extra slowness. If you give me a hard time, I make you wait.

Finally they were done without cracking a hint of a smile. At the money exchange right after the border I changed my remaining manat to lari.

The first kilometers in Georgia seemes if somebody had flipped a switch and teleported me back 25 years. It was clear that Georgia is not a rich oil country like Azerbaijan, but the difference was striking. The feel was a bit post-sowjet, abandoned houses, old Ladas, some shabbyness. It turned out that this was probably a matter of remoteness from the capital, because with less distance feom Tiblisi, the situation improved. However, after the first day, Georgia seems to be ‚rougher‘ and less sophisticated than Azerbaijan. Somehow more ancient and traditional. With a lot more of Soviet heritage.

My destination was Sighnaghi, probably the most touristic place in this part of the country, in the ‚Toscana of Georgia‘. Whoa. That‘s a big claim. Let‘s see. But first I have to find it.

I am using old-fashioned paper maps to give me a rough idea where I am and a fall-back solution should the GPS not work. The sat nav has some basic information about the road network, but not always up to date and the hierarchy of roads is not very clear, it seems that every goat track might be eligible as well. So when I was searching the way up to Sighnaghi off the main road, I got confused. Was I on the right track? In a village, I had to stop and check Google Maps as a third option. This raised the attention of some men sitting in the shade, waiving in my direction. A guy in a car, looking like he could be a perfect hermit or orthodox priest with his long hair and beard, asked me with gestures if everything was alright. ‚Yeah‘, I signaled back, ‚I got to continue and then take a turn to the left‘. He stepped out of the car and handed me a small Georgian flag es a gift, all smiling. Oh, thank you. Next, another man showed up to shake my hand with both arms and crossing himself, giving me a symbolic ‚welcome‘. This was a nice balance to the experience at the border.

I found the twisted road up the mountain and after 6 km, I reached the town of Sighnaghi. The first view looked indeed similar to some sights in the Toscana, the village is towering on the top of a hill, overlooking a plain with many vineyards with the Greater Caucasus mountains in the background. Kakheti is Georgia’s biggest region by area, taking in the entire eastern part of the country. The landscape and climate varies dramatically from the high mountains of Tusheti in the north to the semi-desert landscapes of Udabno and Vashlovani in the south.

Georgia has more than 500 endemic grape varieties in total, many of which grow (or once grew) in fertile Kakheti. Today, it remains Georgia’s most productive wine region, responsible for around 70% of the nation’s annual harvest.

Sighnaghi is surrounded a large wall with some city gates. I rode down a street flanked by many souvenir shops with tourist junk until I reached a city gate. I parked the bike and anjoyed the view from the tower. The whole hill is flooded with terrace restaurants and cafés and I felt a bit peckish…hmmmm…what about a snack and some beverage?

I chose one of the establishments and sat down at the edge with a nice view overlooking the plain. I rdered some water and a snack, I thought. Khachapuri, one of the Georgian pastries, I remembered. I ordered the ‘royal’ version. What arrived was a kind of fluffy pizza with a triple ration of cheese on top. Gulp! I did my best but had to leave half of it, it was simply too much.

I had planned to visit a winery in Telavi, the centre of Georgian wine making. It would mean one hour of detour, but I could afford to arrive a bit later at the hotel in Tiblisi. And then I checked the weather forecast. There was quite some humidity in the air and clouds were forming. The weather app predicted thunderstorms…and very soon. Ouch! This would mean I would have to ride in a thunderstorm later, maybe when it’s getting dark, on dodgy roads and suicidal drivers…so the sensible choice was to skip the detour to Telavi…what a pity! So this would mean to ride directly to Tiblisi, hoping to see as little rain as possible. I went to the centre of the village where I extracted some cash from an ATM. I was addressed by a Dutch tourist who had spotted the number plate.

I left the Sighnaghi by the other side and when I stopped to check if I was on the ride course, a large Dodge with a couple stopped next to me. At first, I couldn’t understand the guy, after all I was wearing a helmet and earplugs. Then I deciphered it as French and exchanged a few words with the guy, actually we were blocking the road…The road was in good condition and at its end, it joined a large road to Tiblisi. It was cloudy first, but I could not spot any rain clouds. Quite the contrary, slowly the weather improved again until I was riding in sunshine again. @#&!/!!!! What the feck! Could I have done the detour? The expected two hour to Tiblisi were actually shorter as the new motorway was built which reduced the travel time considerably. So I arrived in Tiblisi in sunshine and filled up again. I found the hotel near Liberty Square which was not easy, it is hidden behind a gate (that’s why it is called The New Gate Hotel?). It is an ok hotel, very central, with a small parking and ok facilities an d with a very competitive price for such a location. What is a bit amusing is the classification…five stars are a bit ridiculous….let’s call it a solid three-star hotel, LOL.

After some refreshing in the cool room, I was ready to discover the Old Town of Tiblisi. First impressions: this is so different from Baku, the opposite in many ways. Streets were bustling with life and many tourists. Lots of small shops with street food, a lot of pastries, for example. And souvenir tat everywhere. Although the city is renovated everywhere, there are still many places in a bad state, many even dating back to the Soviet era. I was strolling through the streets, looking for a nice place to snack something, accompanied by some wine?

After having popped into my first Georgian Church where many came and went (head scarfs and scarfs to cover men’s shorts were provided at the entrance), I chose the Nino Meris Wine Bar as the place to spend the evening.I ordered a five wine tasting and a cheese platter. The wines were presented very knowledgeably by the shop lady.

From Widipedia:

Georgia is one of the oldest wine-producing countries in the world. The fertile valleys and protective slopes of the South Caucasus were home to grapevine cultivation and neolithic wine production (Georgian: ღვინო, ɣvino) for at least 8000 years. Due to millennia of winemaking and the prominent economic role it retains in Georgia to the present day, wine and viticulture are entwined with Georgia’s national identity.

I tasted one autochthonous grapes, but in different styles…white, amber and red…in European or traditional Georgian style…all quite good. The Georgian style has an ancient touch to it, like the people a bit rough on the edges. In the end I did get a glass of Chacha, the Georgia version of Grappa. The cheeses were special and some were quite salty.

During my tasting, the sluices opened and a massive thunderstorm broke loose. Within minutes, the street was flooded and where I had been sitting some minutes ago on the terrace, water was deep as 40 cm. Well, if this is the rainfall to be expected, this is definitively not the stuff I would want to get caught in on the bike. Finally the rain stopped and I could return to my hotel.

I started the day not too late, I packed my bags and was out of the parking at a quarter past nine. The bike felt a bit top-heavy in the beginning, but this is kind of normal, with the gigantic aluminium box, it would be much worse. Anyway, with the aggressive driving style of some drivers, it’s better to keep it slow and relaxed. I carefully navigated through the dense traffic until I left the city limits of Baku behind me. The shiny glass and concrete of the city was replaced by the beige colour of the steppe west of it. The road ascended slowly and every now an then there was even a bend; the speed limits are very confusing, changing very often and are respected sometimes and sometimes not. After an hour, the arid country had changed into a grassland when I decided to drink some water, it was slowly getting hot.

I was going rather slow today, but as there are few reasons to stop, the pace was all right. In Şamaxı, I exited the highway. It hosts the oldest mosque in Azerbaijan, called the Juma Mosque, built in 743. It is not a large complex and actually rather somber. The interior is based on the design of the Great mosque of the Umayyads in Damascus, dating from the same period. The only visitors apart from me were again Chinese, it seems they are the only ones visiting AZ at the moment en masse. Since the pandemic, tourist numbers have dropped. The government has laid out a plan to boost tourism. This all reads very well, but…what about opening land borders? I learned during my trip that foreigners can exit the country by land borders, but not locals. Only by plane. This does make travel not very attractive.

When I returned to the bike, two little boys were interested and asked where I was from. But then I got a question I never got so far and this is probably a sign of the times: ‘are you on Instagram or Tiktok?’. Bam. There you go, I had to reveal I’m not a digital native: ‘No’. The boys looked disappointed.

Gradually, the landscape got greener and more twisty. The road is being upgraded and where works have finished, a huge four-lane road makes riding easy.

More and more trees lined the road and suddenly, in the district of Ismaili, kebab places were right and left to the road. With tables under the trees, this looked welcoming, but it was too early for me to make a break. There would be more to come, wouldn’t it? I descended and when I finally got peckish, the grill places were gone. It was hot now and shadow less abundant. I pondered whether I should visit the mountain village of Lahic that is famous for its coppersmiths. But a bad road, two hours of detour and the fact that I do not have space to transport artefacts made me chose against, I wanted to focus on my highlight in Sheki.

The last 50 minutes to Sheki saw more trees and the mountains of the Caucasus got nearer.

Finally I arrived in Sheki, probably the heart of Azerbaijani tourism (behind Baku). The main road was in perfect state – expect that somebody forgot that the drain covers were too low now, creating huge potholes that formed an interesting slalom. Following the impeccable direction of my sat nav, I arrived at the complex of the palace of the Sheki Khans. It is inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The walking upwards through the complex resulted in streams of sweat although I was not carrying the jacket that was tied to the bike. I purchased a ticket for the palace and the museum. It it permitted to take pictures in the garden…

…but taking pictures inside is not permitted.

From the webpage of Emiliy Lush: The Sheki Khan’s Palace was built as a private residence for the Sheki Khans, viceroys of the Zand and Qajar Persian dynasties who ruled this part of Azerbaijan from 1743 until the khanate was abolished by the Russians in 1819. The palace itself has quite a simple layout, with six rooms arranged over two levels. Despite this, it took almost a decade to finish, with most of that time dedicated to decorating the interior.

As I couldn’t take any pictures inside, I shamelessly took them from the internet (citytoursbaku.com).

Again, basically only Chinese tourists around…I visited the local heritage museum and did not expect much, but it was surprisingly well done. It touched a lot of aspects in local history and culture, highlighting the strong position of these lands in the past of the Eastern Caucasus.

On the way to the hotel, I stopped at the upper Caravanserai where the travelers of the silk road stayed comfortably during their journeys.

I had something similar in mind and had planned to indulge myself with a five star resort&spa in the mountains. For national standards, it is quite posh, although you would have to subtract one star on an international level. It’s quite nice though, especially for the price of a cheap hotel in central Europe.

For dinner, I had some Piti (lamb stew with chick peas in a clay pot), with this dinner I must have tried most of the signature dishes of Azerbaijan, I guess.

For the next days, I had to make some decisions. I had to skip the visit to the high valleys of Tusheti. The unstable weather in the mountains in the next days makes this too risky. Crossing a 3000 m gravel pass in a thunderstorm is not top of my list. As an alternative, I will stay three nights in Tiblisi in Georgia, making a day trip to the mountains and Stepantsminda, taking the Georgia Military Road. On the worse of the two days, I will discover downtown Tiblisi. Sounds like a plan. But first, let’s cross the border to Georgia tomorrow.

Let’s try a different format – a summary of the first four days in Baku, based on the past posts.

I got up early today, well, earlier than the last days at least. My body get used to the time difference. I wanted to use the cooler hours of the morning to walk through the Old Town. At 9a.m. I left the hotel and walked towards the Fountains Square. Today is a windy day and the breeze is very welcome. It was cooler than the last days, but the humidity makes any physical activity more difficult.

I entered the Old Town theough the old gates and noticed that indeed it was very early, the shops were still closed and no tourists around. Excellent. Even better to explore the little streets and discover new sights. Only a huge film crew was very active, seizing the moment of empty streets. Judging the tawdrily dresses actress, my bets are on some soap opera.

I was taking many pictures and was using the shadowy side of the street as it was getting hot already. Next to the Maiden Tower, I sat down for a little rest. A seller of fresh figs and cherries offred me some products, I should see him several times today, wishout having sold anything. I remembered the words of Gani the guide; tourism is not what it used to be.

I arrived at the Shirvanshah Palace and obtained a ticket for the complex. As the name suggests, it was the palace of the Shah of Shirvan over centuries until the dynasty was driven out by the Safavids in the 16th century. The building is rather bare. as the splendor of the palace had been lost. A thorough restauration regained at least the initial stone structure.

Compared to the Shah of Persia, this was surely a very modest home, but it had all what a Shah of some standing needed. A board with some reference to the ‚genocide committed by the Armenians‘ made me frown so I sat down and checked the facts. Yes, in the turbulent year 1918 a massacre of Azerbaijanis by an Armenian militia resulted in the loss of 12.000 lives. What is not mentioned is that half a year later, the Ottoman army with allied Auerbaijani fighters retaliated by butchering more than double Armenians. This shows the tit-for-tat thinking in the region to this day. It will still take time until historic objectivity will clear the view what happened precisely.

I continued my walk, now through the street of tourist kitsch. Slowly the tourists flooded in and I needed a break from the heat. I entered a restaurant next to the wall where the breeze blew across the terrace and ordered a delicious Baku salad (sweet, ripe tomatoes tossed with red onions, mint, sour cherries, dressed simply with pomegranate juice) and some dolma (filled vine leaves). The waiter introduced me to Azerbaijani tea: chewing some walnuts in syrup, then sip some black tea with lemon. Very nice.

I walked back to the hotel to cool down and to plan for the next days. It means that the only rain in the wider region will be in the Caucasus mountains in the next days, that’s a bummer. Let’s see. I’ll plan from day to day. Tomorrow I’ll head to the west along the lower Caucasus mountains. This should be the nicest part of Azerbaijan. I received my cleaned clothes – one of the nicer amenities of a large hotel (laundry service).

In the evening I had selected a restaurant at the seashore and took the motorbike to get there (five hours walking were enough!) just to find out that it was closed this week. I improvised and went to the Maiden Tower where I parked the bike and had a Shah Plov (pilav) on a windy terrace overlooking the city.

Tomorrow morning I will leave Baku and start the actual motorbiking trip.

The task for today was rather simple – get the XBR! At the breakfast, I had a phone call with Heydar to discuss the plan for today. He suggested to come to the airport so I could drop-off the rental car already and he would pick me up and do the pick-up together. First I declined, but on second thoughts, the idea got more attractive. I had pondered if I should give up the plan to drive to the Azerbadjani Caucasian mountains, I think I better give up this plan in favour of another relaxed day to check out the centre of Baku. I will have enough opportunities in Georgia to enter the High Caucasus. And then the rental is superfluous anyway, so returning it today makes no difference.

So I jumped in the car and drove to the airport, filling up cheap petrol (0.6 Eur/L) along the way. I entered the airport and informed the clerk at the AVIS desk. We checked the car and it was done. Shortly after Heydar showed up and picked me up to drive to the cargo area. When we arrived there, the crate with the XBR was just put on a truck.

At this place, a multitude of cars from all kind of proveniences, brands and states can be found, from shiny (almost) new Beemers to wrecks of old Mercs and all kind of Asian brand in between. After some time, Heydar came back from the office and hired a worker to uncrate the bike. We had to wait 50 min as the officials had their lunch break so it made sense to do the uncrating now. I must say it was very well crated, with the panniers and the windshield still in place! Step by step, the bike appeared and everything seemed in place. Except a front indicator that was hanging freely. Hm, a missing screw? Solved with some duct tape. Actually, I am carrying all three most important tools: duct tape, wire and cable ties.

I started the bike and the usual rattling of the cold, worn timing chain told me that everything was in order. However, we still had to wait until the end of the lunch break. We entered a small container where other handlers were waiting already. We had some tea and a chat until Heydar could see the final officer. After a while, he sent me a text message to come to the office where a uniformed officer was supposed to give me the final stamp to leave the compound. However, something was wrong. It seemed that the unexperienced officer at the airport had introduced some data wrongly in the data system. Normally, we would have to go back to the airport to fix this. Have I already mentioned that Heydar is well connected? As the officer is also from his native province of Nakhchivan, he tried to fix it on the phone. This was apparently not very easy and accompanied by some eye-rolling over the colleague at the other end of the line. It took more than half an hour of patient waiting until everything was fixed. Apart from some chatting, the officer put on some dramatic soap opera in the background for entertainment.

Finally, I could leave the compound and pay my dues. Heydar has also had arranged an insurance police for me. His service was exemplary and very polite. The overall costs for the whole transport, customs clearing and handling are quite eyebrow-raising, but it is what it is. Heydar’s help was very much appreciated.

When I rode the first meters, I noticed that something was not right. It turned out that the handle bars were not at the same position, probably this happened during crating. I pushed them into the right position, this should do. On the way to the hotel, I concluded that the bike indeed is in need of a proper makeover as initially planned, this is the last trip for this motor block and the whole front needs to be aligned and nursed, but this is some work for the wintertime. When rolling down the mountain to the city centre, I passed the famous Flame Towers.

I had thought to ride a bit along the Bulvar, the coastal boulevard where also the F1 race track is prepared, but in the end I surrendered to the heat. It was 36 degrees with a high humidity today so finally I just wanted to return to the air-conditioned, cool hotel room.

After a break, some scribe and a shower, I walked to the centre for the food uptake of the day. I visited a restaurant that got only excellent reviews. In the end I was the only guest. The waiter told me that the place re-opened only a week ago, so that‘s maybe why. The location was nice and the food excellent. I ordered some lamb chops with pomegranade and cherry sauce and upon recommendation of the waiter a halva Karabach style. I also tried the local beer Xirdalan, quite ok. I had a longer chat with the friendly waiter, after all I was the only customer.

After that, I was walking throgh the buzzing centre, scooping up the vibes of the city that resembles more a place in Spain that at the crossroads of two continents and cultures. A nice walk and a visit for another little beer in a bar where the locals despair while watching the Champions League qualifying match of the Baku club Sabah. In the end, the club made a tremendous comeback and won the match so the locals should be happy.

The morning was relaxed, have breakfast and get ready to meet my fixer. Heydar is my contact point to take care of handling my motorbike. This includes going through all the customs procedures, transporting the bike to different places and finally uncrating the bike. The kick-off for this process was signing a POA (power of attorney). To do this, we met at the ASAN building; I had to take a taxi in front of the hotel that seemed to have circulated in Britain a loooong time ago and hasn’t seen a service in a long time. Add a 75 year old driver who needed my phone to find the place and it turns into a little adventure.

I met Heydar at the entrance of building and learned something about Azerbaijani efficiency. The building contains all king of administrative public services, including notarisations. After having passed an entrance desk, we had to wait for our number to show up at one of the many desks with modern displays. When it was my turn, the prepared document was printed and I had to pay 17 EUR at the friendly cashier who outed himself as a supporter of Bayern München. Another clerk read out loud the document, translating into English. After I agreed, I was asked to enter the office of the notary who seemed to be, in contrast to his female clerks, of the grumpy kind. After reading, he countersigned and the job was done. The whole procedure too probably around 20 min, very impressive indeed. With this document, Heydar can do all the necessary actions in my name without me being involved the whole time.

As the friendly taxi grandpa had waited, I took another squeaky and rattling taxi ride back. There, I prepared my excursion of today; I picked my car and drove one hour south of Baku. The glitz of the capital changed to the arid, dry country that surrounds it. The traffic in Baku is super compliant with speed limit, an extremely high number of cameras and police officers are a clear warning. Even on the highway with a speed limit of 90 km/h, cameras are a permanent companion. I finally came to terms with the Chinese car and figured out how the cruise control works, an important feature here.

At the town of Qobustan, I took a turn and drove towards the area of two sights: the UNESCO-listed petroglyghs and the area of mud volcanos. When I neared the site, drivers tried to wave me down. As usual, I ignored them and stopped at a police control. The officer explained that the museum was open, the small mud volcano area was closed and the large area required a guide and a rough ride. Aha. So this was the plan of the drivers. Well, I remember a trip to Romania in 1994 when I had to endure a half-day detour because my colleague, a geologist, needed to see the mud volcanos there; however, the experience was more than underwhelming.

So quickly I decided against the mud volcanos, anyway I was not so keen to wander around for an extended time in the burning afternoon sun. So I told the officer I would visit only the museum and the petroglyphs, no guide needed. First I visited a little, but very modern museum explaining the settlements in the area. This area had been populated for hundreds of thousands of years. For the last 20.000 years, petroglyphs had been carved into the rocks and caves in the areas. The museum explains the circumstances and conditions when the many rock carvings were created.

Another 2 km up the hill was another parking where an itinerary started that led along many carvings with explanations. Carvings had the best chance of remaining when they were protected from the environment a bit.

The carvings are very abundant and were engraved over thousands of years. Interestingly, some of the petroglyphs of men and boats reminded me of similar rock carvings I had seen in Northern Norway and in the centre of Sweden; the shapes of animals reminded me of the caves of Lascaux in Vézère, France. This place is a kind of prehistorical Louvre. Although the shapes are minimalistic, the artistry is impressive in many carvings.

The Gobustan Rock Art Cultural Landscape is a historic site in Azerbaijan, comprising a large collection of petroglyphs that reflect the flora, fauna, hunting practices, social structures, and cultural expressions of human societies from prehistoric to medieval times. These engravings provide detailed depictions of anthropomorphic figures, such as lance-bearers and ritualistic dance scenes, as well as various animal species, bullfighting events, camel caravans, and celestial symbols such as the sun and other stars. Estimated to date back approximately 5,000 to 20,000 years, the rock art offers insight into the spiritual life and daily activities of early human populations in the region.

From Wikipedia

I enjoyed the shadow of the rocks where I could. At the end of the walk, a little café with air condition was very welcome to cool down. I ordered some local pakhlava that was very tasty. I returned to the car and headed back to Baku.

When I reached the outskirts, I made a detour to the Motomondo shop, located in a large car selling terrain (Auto Merkezi). I had dared to smuggle a small bottle of chain lubricant in my luggage but did not dare to send motor oil. The shipper had refused to keep it in the panniers. So I needed to get some motorbike oil, with an old bike like the XBR with a wet clutch, modern car oils with their many additives result in a slipping clutch. I entered the showroom with many motorbikes and uttered my wish to purchase some motor oil of the more viscose kind. I obtained two litres and continued to chat with the owner. This conversation took a longer turn when Sahir, the owner invited for some tea. For an hour, we discussed motorbike topics, he even knew the Iron Butt Association! The conversation was in English, but he also involved his girlfriend who was talking in Russian. This shows the multilingualism of Baku, where locals speak many languages. A pleasant, unexpected intermezzo.

I returned to the hotel and had to try out the quite well-equipped fitness room. After a good sweat and some huffing and puffing, I had a shower and prepared myself for a walk to the centre where I would visit the Dolma Restaurant, a folkloristic restaurant with good traditional food. Many tourists, but this is to be expected. I ordered some delicious fried eggplant salad and a lamb sajd, all delicious. After a walk through the calm, but beautiful pedestrian street, I returned to the hotel.

It seems that the motorbike clearance moves faster than expected, tomorrow I’ll know more.

So finally the day was there, it was time to fly to Baku, Azerbaija, to start the trip. My motorbike was already on it’s way from Heathrow, UK. The two different itineraries were necessary as i) it is not possible to cross into Azerbaijan via a land border and ii) there are very few providers to transport motorbikes to that region.

I took the train to Brussels airport and after a stopover in Frankfurt, I boarded the plane to Baku. The flight was smooth and the second part I had a long conversation with my seatmate living in Vancouver who was returning to visit his family. The arrival was before midnight and after passing immigration and picking up my luggage, I presented myself at the desk of the rental car company. The reception was very friendly and soon I received the car for the next days. My XBR may already have landed in Baku, but it will take a few more days until I will receive it; Complicated handling and customs procedures make it slower than needed. As a consequence, I rented a car and will do day trips to use the waiting time.

I struggled with the car as it is the first Chinese car I’ve ever driven. Very colourful dash, but not very self-explaining; And the buttons in Chinese wouldn’t help a lot either. As the airport is located 20 km outside the city, it was a rather long drive until I arrived at my hotel. There are a lot of nice hotels Baku, but I chose a large one that also provides parking. The reception was again very friendly and posh (valet parking, bell boy) and the room quite nice.

The time difference is only two hours, but I felt like jet-lagged today and stayed in bed very long, only interrupted by a breakfast with a view over the city. In the early afternoon, I prepared myself for the guided tour that I had booked for the afternoon. I stepped out of the cool hotel and was welcomed by the hot and humid climate of Baku. I walked towards the Fountain Square and discovered a nice new pedestrian street. I quickly learned a first thing about Baku today: it is a paradise for cats.

Baku’s streets teem with feline grace as cats, revered by locals and omnipresent in mosques, cafes and shops, endure challenges amid adoration in Azerbaijan’s bustling capital

No matter where you are in the city, you’ll always see cats.

In Baku’s Old City, cats perch on balconies, lounge in the shade of maples, and rest on almost every corner. Whether sunbathing, grooming themselves or sneaking into teahouses for food, cats have become an integral part of street life in Azerbaijan’s biggest city.

These furry predators are so omnipresent that no one bats an eye at a cat pawing about them as if talking about a friend. Lingering near cafe entrances or snoozing on a nearby bench, storekeepers and locals often know their neighborhood cats by name and will tell delightful tales.

(from an article in Daily Sabah)

At the Fountain Square, I met my guide for the next hours, Gani. The plan was to cross the Old Town called İçərişəhər, a UNESCO enlisted World Heritage. This place, surrounded by massive medieval walls, and some of the adjacent streets contain some of the most important buildings of Azerbaijan and provide a background of the history that marked this city. Before entering the walls, we passed the preparations for the upcoming Formula 1 race which will happen in a few weeks.

Within the walls, we passed the historic Yeralti Hammam and many nice little shadowy squares. In a carpet shop, Gani explained the history and distinctive features of Azerbaijani carpet traditions, being on par with the maybe more famous carpets from Persia.

The last view in the old town was on the Palace of Shirvanshahs, the former rulers. From this spot, you see the historic palace and the hypermodern new landmark in the background, the Flame Towers.

On the way back to the Fountain Square, the discussed the city’s history in the 20th century – short-lived independence from imperial Russia, forced integration into the Soviet Union, new independence and the war with Armenia, triggered by the buildings that played a role in this era, the town hall, the location of the first parliament…

I followed his advice and had dinner at a traditional place called Fisincan Restaurant, having a traditional Dushbara soup and a Plov (Pilav) with Lamb. Afterwards, I walked around the Fountain Square and the very lively streets before returning to the hotel.

It was a great start to the trip with many surprising new insights.

Well, it is time for another ‚exotic‘ trip. Initially, I had planned to finally address a large bullet point on the imaginary bucket list – the trip through Southern America. Planned for the upcoming winter, I was already designing itineraries and reading travel books and a lot of stuff on the internet. I thought this finally was going to happen! 

Well, the idea kept progressing until I read the first headlines talking of an upcoming ‚Super El Niño‘ that would hit South America in a few months. Although global weather is expected to be affected, the impact on the countries in this part of the southern hemisphere could be dramatic. For example, Peru is experiencing a rain season in December, but under the influence of an ‚Super El Niño‘, this could mean massive flooding in the Andes. Other countries and regions will also be affected.

In the beginning, the probabilities of the occurrence were still low, but kept growing constantly. In the end, the only sensible thing to do was to postpone the trip (again) and look for something else.

I have a bag of ideas for smaller trips that can be done ‚in-between‘ when there’s not so much time available. One of them is a journey to the Southern Caucasus, i.e. Azerbaijan, Georgia and Armenia. Since the pandemic, Azerbaijan has closed the land border: you can exit, but you cannot enter other than by plane or boat. Some people put their motorbikes on trucks in Georgia and fly to Baku. As this tedious and expensive, I have chosen another (expensive) option: flying to Baku and starting the trip from there. It saves a lot of time and distance, approximately 4000 km and one week. However, there are not many operators for this more exotic destination, so the only possibility is to fly the bike from London Heathrow to Baku. You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. Riding once across Turkey is enough and taking the shabby truck ferry across the Black Sea is not very much faster and a lot less appealing.

I have done my research and I’m working through my to-do list. Some things still have to be managed, but one big step had to happen today: the drop-off in Heathrow. The old XBR had been nursed sufficiently. Initially, I had planned to indulge her with a newer motor, but for this small trip I decided to use the old setup, it still should be alright. The Honda is rock-solid, so this gives peace of mind; a change of fluids and tyres and braking pads was enough. 

I set off at 8 a.m. in sunny weather, heading towards Calais. To my surprise, I encountered massive traffic in Antwerp due to an accident. As I had no appetite to filter a lot along the Ring, I took the northern detour through the harbour and was now behind my schedule. In contrast to the mighty BMW, I was going at moderate speed, enjoying the nice day. At the check-in of the Eurotunnel, I received a departure time before the booked one, so things looked great. However, despite the moderate traffic, border procedures were very slow. The British border guard asked the usual question about my destination and of course I answered it correctly. The look on his face was expressing some disbelief, but when he saw all the stickers on my panniers he understood it was all true. I could see his brain processing the information why I didn’t chose a German operator (there is none) and I my mind he felt the urge to shake his head. But he was too polite for that. 

I rode to the embarking lane and expected to roll on the train shortly. Some chats and banter with other bikers, after all my XBR draws some attention. The barrier would not open. Another lane embarked – but we didn’t. Only after one hour we would move, although an employee tried to stop me – sorry, mate, I’m moving, can’t stop now – and I passed him as the last in my queue which meant that the others had to wait for the next train! It took ages until we could enter the wagon and set off – a really shitty service today. I was glad to have booked a normal and not an expensive flexiplus ticket – you can hardly argue with a cheap ticket, but having the posh ticket would blow a fuse.

I was surround by a group (‚Mons Belgium Chapter’) of shiny Harley-Davidson bikers with their biking chicks, probably going to a meeting of like-minded people. So, in contrast to the embarkation lane, no chatting here. When two different worlds meet. When I arrived in Folkestone, I was one hour behind schedule, but I had plenty of buffer anyway. I rolled with a speed below the limit ( a rare occasion) and had to add some petrol along the way. Was it the soaring heat? I forgot to put 2-3 litres only and jammed 13 litres into the tank before I realised my mistake; the tank should only be filled up to one quarter for transport. It was very hot now, the hottest day of the year in the UK (35 degrees in south-west London) and I reflected that I never had seen the rolling green hills of England in such a state: almost no green left in the fields, brown grass everywhere, suffering trees and lots of dried, brown trees. 

Finally I arrived at the warehouse of Motofreight in Feltham where my bike was received. I could not only leave my tools and spare parts in the panniers, but also my boots, trousers and helmet. This will reduce my luggage considerably. The only downside: what will all the sweat in a closed pannier do in the next two weeks? I will find out. A large bunch of international motorbikes showed that they have quite some customers. A free taxi carried me to the airport where I was killing time at a running sushi restaurant.

The flight to Brussels was delayed, but on time at the destination, and two train rides and a let’s-pick-my-old-car-from-the-rented-garage-and-drive-home-with-it later I was back home after 15 hours. The two remaining tasks are obtaining insurances for AZ and GE and hoping that my visa application for AZ will go through. And packing my luggage, but this is for the weekend. My flight to Baku will be in nine days, looking forward to it!