ROAMIN' ROMANIA - A Slow Train Trip around Western Romania

......previously, we loved the countryside and nature in Azerbaijan..........

After our travels in Azerbaijan, we fancied a relaxing jaunt on some trains in a pleasant and easy country. We had flown into Budapest with Wizz Air, and Romania's border was nice and close - only a few hours train ride away. We had lovely memories of a pretty country with gorgeous landscapes and cute villages from our last visit, and we looked forward to seeing some new areas.

On the slow train, Romania

We had a good old go at covering much of South-Western Romania, with many different regions being represented on our travels. We started in the Crișana region where the border town of Arad is situated, and soon after travelled through a corner of Transylvania stopping in Deva and Petroșani. Most of our time was spent in Oltenia, in the towns of Targu Jiu, Craiova and Dobreta-Turnu Severin. We then finished off in the Banat region, home to Băile Herculane, and our last stop, Timișoara.

Follow the dotty yellow line, our route through some of South-Western Romania

We were extremely happy to be on trains again after our long bus, shared taxi and plane trip leaving Azerbaijan. The feeling of stretching our legs out, and the fresh air from open windows was a delight. Romanians don't like taking the trains generally, thinking them too slow, so there is normally plenty of room to spread out. Scenery included fields covered in sunflowers and corn, with haybales neatly rolled up in meadows. Church spires sparkled in the distance and the odd castle ruin sat on a hill. Small orchards and backyards in red-roofed villages were full to the brim of homegrown produce. Contrasting this were the sections of wild forests and dramatic hills.

Some brief highlights from our month's rambles......

Arad- With the aim of doing no sightseeing what-so-ever, and simply recovering from several days of travel, Arad was a great place. We spent a day at the local lido complex, apparently the second biggest in Europe. We alternated between sitting on the grass people watching, and swimming in the freezing, but refreshing water. The brown coloured thermal pool was an interesting Eastern European touch, and we joined the oldies bathing in the warm therapeutic waters. As the visit coincided with Sal's birthday, we also sipped pink champagne and ate nibbles and felt blissfully carefree.

Deva- Without a doubt the best accommodation of our Romanian trip was in Deva. Mostly in Romania we stayed in small apartments of varying quality, almost always going for the cheapest one that was closest to the train station. Not only was the large retro apartment in Deva spacious and neat as a pin, but goodies such as fresh berries, juice and ground coffee were left in the kitchen by the friendly host, and were an unexpected surprise.

Deva's medieval fort sat dramatically high on a hill, visible from most parts of the town. Quite a walk through the forest to the top, we were enthusiastic enough that the hot and sweaty hike passed quickly. Before we knew it, we had reached the pinnacle and could see the town spread out spectacularly in front of us.

Deva Fort, high above the town, Romania

Exploring inside the fort, Deva

Checking out the view, Deva Fort

From the top of Deva Fort, Romania

One of many cool buildings in Deva, Romania

Sacred objects, Deva church, Romania

Petroșani- Unfortunately, most of our time in Petroșani was taken up with dentistry related drama. Poor Rich had an awful toothache, and had to have an extraction. Usually this wouldn't be a problem, but we searched all over town, literally, to find a dentist with the time and/or inclination to perform the procedure. We finally found a friendly woman almost next door to where we were staying, and even then she couldn't perform the procedure until the next day.

Once the tooth was out and the pain eased, we had only a day left of our stay. We spent it exploring a rural path along the railway line, a quiet walk culminating in an old rail yard. The delightfully decrepit depot was unlocked and we were free to walk amongst the discarded old engines and buildings.

An abandoned railyard made for an interesting morning, Petroșani, Romania

We were free to explore, Petroșani rail yard, Romania

Old wheel, Petroșani rail yard, Romania

Targu Jiu- Targu Jiu was an unexpectedly attractive town, with the streets lined with character-filled Romanian Revival style buildings from the 1930s. Many were in a state of disrepair, but some had been restored to their graceful former glory status.

Romanian Revival style home in Targu Jiu, Romania

Lovely wood framed doorway, Targu Jiu, Romania

A grander design in the streets of Targi Jiu, Romania

Communist era train station, Targu Jiu, Romania

River Jiu, in Targu Jiu, Romania

One of our best day on the trains was getting to Targu Jiu. We had a couple of changes with a long wait during a stop over, but we weren't at all fussed. It was still better than being cramped into a minibus, and was a good excuse to enjoy a beer, a vișinata (cherry liqueur) and a chicken sandwich at a bar across from the tiny town's train station.

A sneaky dram on the train journey to Targu Jiu, Romania

Never had a receipt from a train station toilet before!

Following this was the most unexpectedly glorious section of railway. The train followed the river slowly through the magnificent forest scenery, through long tunnels and then climbed high into the mountains, with many exciting switch backs. During one particularly impressive part of the journey we passed through 38 tunnels in one hour! This railway trip receives none of the fuss that is made of other famous railways journeys in the region, such as the Montenegro to Belgrade train, but it was every bit as scenic and dramatic.

Onboard a retro Romanian train

Craiova- The markets were the best place for in-season fruits, and Craiova's was the best of our trip. We were really spoilt for choice. Stone fruits were represented by cherries, apricots, plums, nectarines, peaches and so many varieties of each. Prices were less than 6 lei/£1 a kilo for all these fruits. Even though we don't really go for melons, the smell of the yellow variety especially was mouth watering. And our favourite, as always, were the bountiful berries. Blueberries, blackberries, strawberries, gooseberries, raspberries, black and red currants, and many unknown (to us) types. When we had finished our scrumptious strolls around, we found a seat in a bustling café and enjoyed a mici (Romanian version of ćevapi) and hamsii (battered anchovies), accompanied by a glass of local draft beer. It was a great place for a chat and to watch folk going about their business.

Two odd shoes and some flowers for sale, Craiova, Romania

Market character, Craiova, Romania

Sal kept happy with a beer and hamsii (fried anchovies)

Craiova is well known for it's gardens, the largest two kept us occupied for a couple of mornings. Classic lakes, giant European specimen trees, statues and colourful flower beds were beautiful, and some quirky art and an exotic zoo were something different.

Creepy art in a Craiova garden, Romania

Craiova parks had many sculptures, Romania

A bison enjoying a dustbath at a zoo in a Craiova garden, Romania

Young priest inside a church in Craiova, Romania

Beautifully bright interior of church, Craiova, Romania

Spiral staircase in our Craiova accommodation, Romania

Knackered letters boxes, foyer of our Craiova accommodation

Drobreta-Turnu Severin- A pleasant town, set on the northern banks of the gigantic Danube River. The water levels were reportedly low, but to us it looked huge and lovely, and we enjoyed walking next to it, checking out what the fishermen were catching (not much for the most part). 

Băile Herculane- This unique spa town was complete change of scene, and it was here we discovered where all the summer holiday-makers were in Romania. An ancient town, Băile Herculane has long been a place people come to to heal in the therapeutic thermal waters. It was mobbed with local tourists, mostly of an older age, and many with obvious ailments. It was a bit of shock to see so many visitors, and the crowds combined with the heat saw us heading out early in the morning for our sight-seeing.

Up early in the morning, Băile Herculane

A grand corner of Băile Herculane

Located in a stunning valley, the town had for sure seen better days. But we loved the assortment of wonderfully eclectic architectural styles stuffed into the narrow gorge along the river. Being established during Roman times, there were springs and pools from that era still standing, and much had been added over the centuries. The town was named after the legend that the God Hercules took the waters here in Roman times, and many businesses were named after Roman characters - Apollo, Neptune and Aphrodite, for example. The grandest buildings were without a doubt from the era where the Austrians built many facilities. During this time, the town attracted the rich and famous, even royalty, and beautiful bathing palaces were built for the wealthy. Most prevalent these days, however, are the tatty remainders from the Communist times, when the resorts were popular with workers given vouchers to use the facilities once a year for their health.

Early morning Hercules statue, Băile Herculane

Remains of the day, Băile Herculane

Rich getting the shot, Băile Herculane

Soft morning light, old bathing palace, Băile Herculane

Steep craggy mountains loomed on either side and created a dramatic scene. Unfortunately, there were bad forest fires during the time we spent in the area, and we saw massive helicopters with their big water buckets hanging down flying back and forth all day.

We walked from one end of Băile Herculane to the other, the town being spread out along the Cerna River. There were small hot thermal pools along the way- some free to use and others in complexes with facilities. We eagerly joined in a free bath with a few oldies one quiet early morning, in a pool next to the cold river in a natural setting. We found the water to be warm and comforting, and smelling strongly of sulphur. Sal was horrified to see her silver jewellry turning black in the water (luckily, it eventually rubbed off later with a good hard scrub). The following day we tried a paid pool complex, again mostly older folk- Sal was the youngest there! This rustic place had three pools, all had different temperatures and properties. We were told that the heat and the minerals in the thermal water were excellent healers and pain relievers.

The natural baths near the river, Băile Herculane

Upon departure, we were quite early for our longest train journey on this trip, and took time to appreciate the Băile Herculane train station, built during a past opulent era. It was sad that it looked so unloved, even falling down in spots. But we could see through the shabbiness and imagine it's past glory days.

Sal at Băile Herculane station, Romania

Waiting for our train, Băile Herculane station, Romania

Grand entrance, Băile Herculane station, Romania

Timișoara- Our last stop in Romania, Timișoara was near to the border of Serbia and Hungary, and a close train trip away from Budapest. The city center was chock-a-block with grand and ornate Romanian Revival and Art Nouveau style buildings dating back to the 18th century. The area where we were staying was slightly more on the tatty side, but near the river and markets, and blissfully quiet. It's one of the few cities we've visited to boast a public river boat, and for £0.80 for a hours scenic trip, was unique way to spend an morning, gliding along with the cool breeze, the parks of the city on either side of the banks.

Magnificent fountain in Timișoara city center

Pretty river trip on public ferry, Timișoara, Romania

Our last day was spent at a giant flea market, a very organized and tidy event. On the hunt for warm clothes for our upcoming travels in the UK, we were partially successful, and had a great time nosying around the antiques, junk stalls and piles of clothing (and for some reason, an inordinate amount of wooden walking sticks!).

Rediscovering the amazing food that is so common in Eastern Europe was amazing. We've already mentioned the incredible variety and price of local fruits. The dairy section covered a huge range of products from cottages cheeses, kefir, yogurts, sour creams, butter, cheeses and many more. Obviously, we were in heaven.  We're not huge eaters of bready products, but the Romanians certainly are! Every few steps people lined up at bakeries for the insanely popular covrigi, a round pretzel with sweet or savory fillings. And, it was marvelous to be in a country with a strong café culture, and we loved stopping for a coffee, beer or something more potent almost anywhere in the towns we visited. Meniul zilei was a new one for us- a set lunch menu, usually costing about £4-5 per person, with at least two courses and sometimes including a drink. These were great value and a good way to try local dishes.

Lady was selling a splendid assortment of homemade alcoholic drinks at bargain prices

Very local beer (from the next town, Hateg)

Cherry flavoured covrigi- we had to try it

Mici, cute little sausages popular in Romania

All in all, we thoroughly enjoyed a chilled out month in a small area of Romania, and we now felt ready to tackle the UK!

Sal's Commie gallery, Romania

Us enjoying our little trip through Romania

.......next up, we spend some family time in the UK, and explore a new place for us- the Orkney Islands....

PORTRAITS OF LENIN AND WILD MONASTERIES - Ilisu, Oghuz, Ismailli and Lahic, Azerbaijan

......previously, we began our Azerbaijan adventure up near the border of Russia and Georgia on the train.......

Coppersmith's wee shop, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Our next destination was a complete change of scene. To arrive at the village of Ilisu, we needed to take a marshrutka to Qax. Like most towns in Azerbaijan, there was many different spellings for the place name. Gakh was a variation, or as Rich called it, Quacks. Prices for transport here are cheap- this one hour journey, for example, was 3 manat/£1.30. Petrol sits at around 1.60 manat/£0.70 per litre. 

Little bus from Sheki to Qax, Azerbaijan

Once in Qax, we transferred to a smaller bus, which would take us the 40 minutes or so to the village. As we proceeded up the hill, the road becoming steeper, and more and more passengers squeezed on. Sal ending up standing and swinging from a bar and Rich had the bags on his lap squished into a corner and unable to move. We haven't been on a bus that crowded in some time! We fell out near our guesthouse, and looked for the blue/green gate- the only clue we had for arriving. A lovely couple were finishing the cleaning as we peeked our heads around the gate. They showed us around, and then promptly left for their home in Qax, leaving us alone in the ramshackle cottage. It was, to say the least, basic and rough around the edges, but we liked it a lot. It certainly had a lot of character, with an outdoor kitchen and bathroom, and a little courtyard for eating and sitting. We felt cozy in our own little place.

Boot polishing time, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Sunroom in the cottage, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Pretty roses growing up the side of the kitchen, Ilisu

The village was bigger than we expected, with many fancy castle-like resorts lining the road leading into and out of town. Food options were limited to the sort of garden restaurants that Azerbaijanis seem to love, and, aimed at Baku holiday-makers, things there were quite expensive. We used our little local shop for some basics, fresh bread, eggs, cheese and salads, as well as the obligatory bottle of vodka and sparkling pear juice. We splashed out for one meal where we tried antrikot for the first time. A fancy term for lamb chops (entrecote in French), two massive juicy, salty lamb chops arrived, and we were in heaven munching away on the delicacy.

Delish meal at a garden restaurant, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Obligatory pear juice and a cheeky voddy for arvo drinks, Ilisu

Most of our time was spent walking up to viewpoints to gaze down beautiful green valleys, where rivers flowed swiftly. Despite the cool weather (and over 1200 meter altitude), we also sweated our guts out visiting an old fort high on a hill overlooking two rivers. The magnificent sight down two huge valleys would have been an excellent surveillance spot in the old days, and we sat in the shade catching our breath admiring the splendid view. A woman we met on the hill with her family was an English teacher in Kuwait- an unexpected profession from an Azerbaijani. English here was rarely spoken outside of Baku, even by youngsters.

A well located fort looking down two valleys, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Beautiful country around Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Looking down at the valley, above Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Wildflowers on the hillside, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

A view from a castle ruin, looking down on Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Strolling around the streets, the locals were friendly, and seemed used to strangers/tourists in their village. One man enthusiastically showed us his product he was selling by the side of the road. With mime, he explained it was a cooling drink made with tea and rose, and was great for the hot weather. We would have loved to have tried it, but as it was in giant bottles, we declined the sale.

Much photographed bridge just outside of Ilisu, Azerbaijan

What's behind the green door? Ilisu, Azerbaijan

A large derelict building in Ilisu village, Azerbaijan

Cool home made electric bike, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Village mosque, still in use, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Archway of the ancient mosque, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Protective tower, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Cute cows crossing sign, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Love these gates, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Rich, keen to try out his new camera, was excited by the opportunities the scenic region offered......

Testing the new camera out in Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Getting really creative!

It has to be said, at this point, that there is a problem with rubbish in Azerbaijan. Okay, it wasn't as terrible as somewhere like Nepal, but at almost all of the picturesque natural places we went, as well along the roadside, locals had dropped plastic bits all over and it really spoilt the landscape.

Sal in the village, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

Walking back down to the village, Ilisu, Azerbaijan

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A bit tired upon arriving in humid Oghuz, a stopover point for a couple of nights, we weren't sure what to make of the little town. There were very few places to eat, and locals were looking at us as though we were from outer space. Things changed as we got ourselves organised. The small hotel opposite the bus station was quiet and great value for 35 manat/£15 including a yummy breaky (no long-spouted teapot this time!). The young guy at reception was laid back, but friendly and wanted to make us happy. He loved to communicate with Google translate, which was OK with us. After walking around with the aim of eating, we finally asked the pleasant guy who sold Rich some plums, who directed us to a “pub”- really just a garden with a load of old blokes drinking tea or beer under weeping willows. After checking it was acceptable for lady to enter, we were seated in a sparse back part of the garden, away from the male drinkers. We were never sure in these situations whether the staff thought we want to eat separately from the male drinkers, or whether they sat us there because of a cultural sensitivity. Nevertheless, we scoffed a big plate of salad and grilled lamb, ordering another after because it was so delicious. Rich had a beer, Sal eyed it enviously, and settled for a ayran (yoghurt drink).

Exiled to a back table in the garden, Oghuz "pub", Azerbaijan

The following day, we discovered the treasures to be held around modest little Oghuz. After much asking, we found the battered old blue marshrutka (minibus) that was going to the village of Calut (pronounced Jalut- it's very confusing here, the “c” is pronounced as a “j”). As the bus filled up, people were curious about us and where we were going. Once they realised we wanted to visit an ancient monastery in the hills, they all nodded and chatted amongst themselves. And, as always, there was a lot of chatter about our boots- people here are really fascinated by them! For the princely sum of 0.60 manat/£0.25, we drove the half an hour to the village, and then further up on a stony road to what seemed like the middle of nowhere, where we were let out. Two middle aged ladies also got off at the final stop, checked we were going to the monastery, and indicated we should follow them. For about an hour, we slowly walked with them, taking turns to carry their buckets full of tomatoes. Up the steep rough path, through streams, we finally arrived at a house with some smiley people. It seemed the ladies lived there, and we said goodbye to our new friends, as a younger girl was roped in to take us the last 20 minutes or so to the monastery. We felt bad, but she didn't seem to mind. We would never have found the place without her, we had to follow a tiny path across pastures and climb over farm gates. When we got there, she left us with a smile to enjoy the place in our own time.

Helpful ladies showed us the way from the marshrutka.......

....and then the daughter took us the rest of the way

A few gates to climb over on the way

What a stunning spot! The monastery was one of many we saw around this part of of the country, left over from ancient times when much of what is now modern Azerbaijan was Caucasian Albania. There is no geographic or historical connection with Albania in the Balkans. The monasteries were mostly in a terrible state, apart from one in the village of Kish near Sheki, which seemed to be a big tourist attraction, and charged an exorbitant 15 manat/£6.60 for tourists to enter. We didn't. This one was totally abandoned, trees growing from the roof, stone work crumbling, overgrown and unloved. But we could still see signs of the beautiful artistry apparent in the building, carvings, and lovely shaped stonework. Nearby was a magnificent old plane tree- big enough to live inside. The site had a lovely serenity to it (apart from the giant snake that passed nearby Richard's feet), and we spent some time there taking photos and soaking up the good vibes.

The interior of the monastery, moody and derelict, Oghuz, Azerbaijan

Intricate carving of Mary on the front exterior

Monastery in such a peaceful spot, Oghuz, Azerbaijan

Checking out the giant tree, monastery, Oghuz, Azerbaijan

People in these small towns were definitely more friendly than in the big city. In Baku, we sometimes noticed the lack of smiling. We know it's a cultural thing, but it's so strange to nod and greet someone and get completely blanked, which occasionally happened in Baku. We really loved this passage from the Wikivoyage page for Azerbaijan. Whoever wrote this has a great way of explaining the whole smiling thing, and it could be applied to many countries in the region, in our opinion:

Don't smile at a stranger in the street: they will not only think you are odd, but may feel insulted. Smiling is traditionally reserved for family and friends; smiling at a stranger without addressing them, will be interpreted as your making fun of them or that there is something wrong with their clothes or hair. However, a sincere polite smile when addressing a person is appropriate and will be appreciated (an automatic "Western smile", grinning, is widely regarded as insincere). Smiling is still very rare in customer service, as sales assistants, public servants and the like are expected to look serious and businesslike. Even show hosts very rarely smile. Hence the very common misconception about Azerbaijanis is that they are a cold people and never smile – they do, once they get to know you, and become very welcoming and kind.

In smaller places, though, we more often than not received a nod, a smile, a Salam, or a hand over the heart gesture when passing others in the street, which made our day. People were welcoming, especially when we entered a restaurant or accommodation, and also very helpful whenever we asked for help with directions or needed to find something. We experienced many small kindnesses during the day, and it felt an authentically good will towards us.

An example of this in Oghuz was the marshrutka driver who, on our return journey down the hill from the monastery, had written out his name and phone number on a little bit of paper, and gave it to us, presumably for if we ever needed help. So sweet.

Another marshrutka took us up a hill closer to Oghuz town to see a 1200 year old plane tree. The driver and his pal were funny. Not understanding where we wanted to go, they stopped every now and again, at something they thought we might like to see, and asked, Here? Eventually, we communicated about the old tree, and they understood and took us there. It really was a beauty- even bigger than the one growing wildly up at the monastery. It had been partially fenced off, as though to protect it, and locals had tied a few ribbons on it's branches. It was good to know it was being appreciated for all it's years of hard work growing so large. Walking back to town, we passed another Albanian monastery- this one smaller and in a terrible state, but a replica in style of the others we had seen. They all seemed to have a similar simple style- three giant central domes on the ceiling, and an alter in the same arrangement. This one had a litter of puppies. Being Muslim, dogs are not kept as pets in Azerbaijan, only as protection for sheep. Cats are apparent in the streets, but also seem not to be pets, just looking after themselves.

A similar design inside another monastery, Oghuz, Azerbaijan

Trying to get a better look, 1200 year old plane tree, Oghuz, Azerbiajan

A real old beauty

Little cute boy came to say hello in the park, Oghuz

A nearly hidden old gem in Oghuz, Azerbaijan

Further down the hill, we spotted a cafe, and realised we really deserved a coffee break! A delicious coffee and cake was followed by a selfie with the owner. When we came to pay the bill, the price was so ridiculously cheap, we suspected the coffee may have been on the house. We do a lot of supposing in countries where no-one speaks any English!

A note about coffee and drinks in Azerbaijan.....We had to quickly become used to not being in a coffee culture. It's a while since we have struggled to find get decent cup of coffee in a country. Here in Azerbaijan, it was all about the tea, and very nice it was too. Usually bergamot flavoured, it came served with wrapped sugar lumps and lemon, and some kind of sweet or biscuit. Occasionally, we were lucky enough to stumble across a more trendy cafe where fancy lattes and cappuccinos were served. Yummy cool drinks we discovered were ayran, served and sold everywhere and super cheap. Sal was in heaven with this fermented dairy drink. The ever present sparkling pear drink was much more up Rich's alley. A tarragon version was also available, but we found it too sweet and a rather bizarrely unnatural green colour. Many drink options were cheaply available in glass bottles- an idea that seems so old fashioned these days. It was wonderful to not have to drink from plastic. MANY vodkas were available cheaply in the supermarkets, we tried a couple of varying qualities. Azerbaijan has a wine industry, and wine and cognac were also easily obtainable, with a wide selection in most shops. Rich tried a few beers over our month in Azerbaijan. There is not a huge drinking culture throughout the country, but plenty of restaurants sell alcohol. Azerbaijan has a few of their own beers, and Rich's verdict was that some were better than others.

Sparkling pear drink, it is everywhere in Azerbaijan

Enjoying a local lager, Oghuz, Azerbaijan

Azerbaijani cognac in the supermarket

All in all, we loved our stay in little Oghuz. Leaving the next morning on the Baku bus (we would get off half way), we reflected on the transport in Azerbaijan. Although a bit disappointed the trains were not very prolific, we were also impressed with the long distance bus services. Usually working to a timetable, we found them to be cheap and reasonably comfortable for short distances. Due to radar cameras, drivers were careful and steady, and we felt safe on the road. Many buses were crowded, but people were always polite. This morning, we were surprised when a gentleman sitting across from us suddenly asked Rich how he was in perfect English. He was from Baku, but had lived in London for many years, and had a strange accent, Cockney mixed with Azerbaijani. The two of them chatted on and off for the journey, and it was refreshing to be able to communicate with a local in our language and ask questions and have him give us some useful information.

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We were dropped at a cross road leading into Ismailli, a large town, which disappointingly seemed not to have much of a local marshrutka network. So, we jumped in a taxi, the driver had no idea where we were going. We directed him to the outskirts of town, where we'd booked some accommodation. Seemingly happy to drop us off, he sped away, and we found our guesthouse, apparently a bit of a well-known place for travellers over the years. We had been communicating and negotiating about our stay with a young man on WhatsApp, but when we arrived, we realised he was in America. His mum, non-English-speaking lovely Nusha was in charge of things at the property. Our arrival co-coincided with the weekend stay of a large, boisterous family group from Baku, relaxing on a short stay break from the city. As our host showed us around, she apologised for the thumping music and lively activity around the small outside pool, but we were glad to see the group enjoying themselves. Later that evening, we were invited down to the outside area to “join them for some fun”, which we did. It was an all women group, with some of their kids- the men were back in Baku at work. They were really letting their hair down, eating, blaring music and dancing. We spent an entertaining couple of hours with them until things calmed down a bit and they started playing Bingo.

One of the ladies at the party, Ismailli Guesthouse, Azerbaijan

Baku women up in Ismailli for a mini break, without the men!

The teenagers spoke a little English, but very shy

A lonely male! Ismailli Guesthouse, Azerbaijan

The guesthouse was truly a work of art. Stuck in a time warp from Soviet times, the whole large house had an air of homey nostalgia about it. The huge Lenin portrait upstairs hung next to an eclectic mixture of art and interesting old books. Poking around downstairs we found an amazing retro record collection, with what we can only assume were classic Azerbaijani albums from the 1970s and 1980s. The furniture was heavy and the textiles on the walls and floors gave a traditional feel. Outside there was an extensive garden with fruit trees and flowers and many sitting areas, as well as a huge communal kitchen space.

Lenin looking over us, Ismailli Guesthouse, Azerbaijan

Retro old fashioned common area at Ismailli Guesthouse, Azerbaijan

It was a good thing the guesthouse was so large and comfortable, and boasted the unexpected pool. It was quite far from the town centre, and and we were not tempted to walk far in the heat. Also, despite the town's roads being wide and lined with delightful shade trees, the sights of Ismailli were slightly thin on the ground. So, we whiled away a few lovely days, swimming, sunning our pasty bodies, and catching up on writing and photography duties, all alone after the family group left.

Ismailli bazar, Azerbaijan

Older gentlemen hanging about the Ismailli bazar, Azerbaijan

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When we travel to parts where there are not many fellow travellers, we find ourselves relying more on information from the internet. Wikivoyage is a favourite, but even then facts are often out of date, or worse, written by contributors with unknown travel experience. Taking all the information with a grain of salt, and by asking around, we usually get by.

The bus from Ismailli to Lahic, a small village in the mountains, was enigmatic, to say the least. There were many rumours of times and places from where to catch it, and questions about whether it even ran at all. After hearing too many different stories, and finding out the price for a taxi was quite low, we decided to go for it. We found an old taxi driver in the street and made arrangements to be picked up at our guesthouse the following morning. Thankfully, his old black Lada pulled up right on time, and we jumped in for a glorious ride to Lahic.

Our taxi man and his Lada, Lahic, Azerbaijan

At first, the scenery was flat with sunflower fields, and patchwork farms on hills in the distance. Then, when we turned off the main road, forests appeared on either side, with spectacular craggy mountains up ahead. Many small cafes were amongst the trees, along the flowing river in the shade. Some small stands with souvenirs geared towards Azerbaijani tourists included such items as stuffed sheep and wild cats. As we followed the turning road up into the mountains (the village is more than 1300 meters), the scenery became more dramatic, with huge cliff faces and the towering valley.

A walk, later, on the road we drove in on, Lahic, Azerbaijan

We had seen an Air B and B (not common in Azerbaijan) online, and booked it without any reviews, or much information. The host had arranged for his cousin, an extremely well educated and multilingual NGO worker to meet us in the village centre and take us to the cottage. Walking up a stony path, with Sultan talking no-stop, we soon arrived at a traditional stone house with an overgrown garden and a stunning mountain view. Previously the residence of their grandparents and parents, the family home was now empty, and we seemed to be their first Air B and B guests. Although the place had obviously been unused for some time, it was clean and spacious, and even included such unexpected mod-cons as a washing machine and WIFI! It was a great base, close to the village centre, but serene and rustic.

Sun/storage room, our little house, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Old world charm, our house, Lahic, Azerbaijan

View from our veranda, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Views to die for, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Lahic (again, the “c” is pronounced “j”) village centre was a strange couple of hundred meters of an intense amount of quaint little olde worlde shops catering almost exclusively to Azerbaijani tourists. A mixture of genuinely appealing traditional art and tacky junk, we were most interested in the old fashioned crafts, especially copper work, for which the village is famous. Locals tried to make a bit of money from tourists during the short summer season. 

Traditionally made copper wares, Lahic, Azerbaijan

A jumble of dusty copper items, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Young boy continuing the family tradition, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Coppersmith tools, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Shiny, tempting things for sale, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Main street in Lahic, Azerbaijan

Outside this tiny area of central Lahic, the village was peaceful, old boys sitting around chatting in the sun, some small grocery shops, and a few nearly hidden old mosques behind walls. Either side of the narrow streets were houses made of stone and wood, often with wooden balconys. The roads were all cobblestone, quite a splendid sight, and no doubt a difficult feat to create.

An early morning in village center, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Warming up for the day, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Old boys in town square, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Stone and wood house, central Lahic, Azerbaijan

Further on the outskirts, the houses and small farms were walled with stone, and small herds of cows or sheep wandered the tranquil roads. We walked a bit to various viewpoints to ogle at the glorious landscapes with the high mountains, and distinctive cliffs. People greeted us in a friendly manner, and we wondered about their lives. It must be such a strange and difficult place to live, especially in winter when the extreme weather arrives. The basic little houses didn't seem up to keeping in much heat, and the hilly cobble-stoned streets would be arduous to navigate in the bad weather. The Lahic residents must be a hardy lot.

Shiny morning sun, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Little shack, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Herding the cows to pasture, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Curious sheep, Lahic, Azerbaijan

Lovely views from a hill in Lahic, Azerbaijan

We heard more mosques here than we have anywhere else in Azerbaijan, the soft and gentle call to prayer wafting on the breeze morning and evening.

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Before we knew it, it was time to return to Baku, to prepare to leave Azerbaijan. We walked down to the tiny village center of Lahic in order to catch the old yellow marshrutka back to Ismailli and hopefully catch a timely bus back to the capital. As soon as we had put our bags down, a friendly gentleman with a shared taxi approached us, already with two passengers, and offered us two seats directly to Baku. Although the price was a bit more expensive, it would save us a lot of hassle with changes and waiting around. And his comfortable car looked very appealing compared to the squishy seats on the marshrutka. So, we temporarily abandoned our slow travel ethos, and spent three hours speeding our way directly back to Baku. The scenery was unexpectedly stunning. We drove out of the valley in a different direction to which we had arrived, and the striking, stark rock cliffs from around Lahic suddenly softened, covered in green, velvety foliage. In the distance, we saw massive mountain ranges still topped with snow, even in the middle of summer. Before long, though, we were back to urban areas and then the big city of Baku.

Yellow bus out of Lahic, Azerbaijan

There was an odd feeling of strictness and control to Azerbaijan. The government had used the Scamdemic to close the country down for many years- the train from Baku to Tbilisi in Georgia had only just restarted when we arrived in the country. Although we had a 30 day visa, we were obligated to get ourselves registered after 15 days. We have visited countries with similar rules before. It's usually a very simple procedure, a visit to a police office for a stamp, or (much more usual) no-one actually cares or checks, and we don't need to bother with it. Here however, the onus was on the tourist to make sure they were registered. This proved a very difficult pursuit, as all our hosts either knew nothing about the process, or couldn't be bothered to do it. After three trips to immigration, we were confused and more than a bit worried, as we had heard rumours of hundreds of dollars fines upon leaving the country. We finally convinced our frankly dodgy (in a good way!) host at one of our guesthouses to come with us to the office and help us, and this seemed to do the trick.

Nevertheless, we were slightly wary at the airport upon leaving Azerbaijan. Added to the immigration distraction, we had a middle of the night flight to Budapest with always stressful Wizz Air. The airport bus from the city decided not to show up, which didn't help matters. In the end, however, we made it to check-in with time to spare, our over-filled hand luggage with Wizz Air was accepted, and immigration asked us nothing about the registration! Woo hoo!

Our experiences during our trip to Azerbaijan could be summarized as unexpected. The things that had drawn us to the country initially- the trains, it's ex-Soviet status and the religion were, in the end, not the things we would remember. It was the beautiful village scenery and the small kindnesses of the people that effected us the most. Although we barely scratched the surface of Azerbaijan in our month's visit, it is unlikely we will return as long as the country stays in it's insular state. They aren't doing themselves any favours regarding tourism- the border restrictions, not being able to travel freely to Nagorno Karabakh and the registration palaver being the main issues for us. Nevertheless, we had been wanting to visit for so long, and in the end, it was worth the wait.

Our route through Azerbaijan, 2026

How Azerbaijan sits in the Caucasus region

........next, our blog post from romantic Romania!!........