Lerik - Böyükəndil - Fairy Tale

On Thursday, August 15, 2019, I set off for Lankaran at noon. A shepherd who had been regularly visiting me at the tent recommended taking a detour to the mountains to the west. I still have some time before my visa for Azerbaijan expires, so there is nothing wrong with taking a look. I can't find a marshrutka to Lerik at the bus station, so I decide to walk north for a while. Maybe I'll find a ride along the way. It's warm again, so after five kilometers at the southeastern outskirts of the city, it's time for a little break. I still can't find a bus to the mountains here. We continue a few more kilometers north before I've had enough of the heat in Kergelan and make a more determined effort to find a ride. Finally, a man in a Lada car takes us to Lerik. Although I can negotiate a better price, the driver still makes a good deal with me. We reach the center of the Lerik district in the late afternoon, I buy a few things at a market, refill our water supplies, take a short walk in the city center, and then set out with my dog to find a place for our tent. I find a spot just outside the town and get settled in for the night. As darkness falls, fog moves up the mountain valleys, creating an almost magical atmosphere in the mountains.

On Friday morning, we are visited at the tent. A shepherd's dog wanders around, and I only see the sheep and the shepherd later. So for now, Rango stays in the tent while I have breakfast and slowly prepare for the next leg of the journey. We set off around nine o'clock. A half-hour later, I am able to refill fresh water at a pumping station in a valley, and the pump station employee invites me in for tea. Then we climb up the mountain to the village of Mastail. After passing through the village, we continue along dusty roads through mostly dry mountain landscapes. We reach Livadirga around noon. In the village, Rango quenches his thirst in the village stream before I leave him with my backpack in the shade. I am invited to have a cool Fanta at the local market. They also give me grapes and some snacks. The two young men are probably teachers in the village and are helping their relatives during the holidays. Shortly before twelve o'clock, we continue. We walk along the village stream to the northeast, through Nusomurya, and then miss the turnoff towards Murya and Shingedulan. Since we had to pass two fairly large and rather intrusive shepherd dogs along the way, turning back is not an option. So we hike along small animal paths towards Aliyabad. We reach the valley again around one o'clock and take a break for an hour in the shady riverside area. It's over 30°C and the paths in the area offer little protection from the sun. Fortunately, there is a slight breeze that makes the situation more bearable. After the Dicke has acclimatized, we continue hiking. We climb up to Aliyabad and also take a break in a shady spot there. Then we continue to Gurdəsər. On the way there, a local offers us a ride in his Niva. Since Rango shows a bit too much initiative when getting in, the offer has a close expiration date. So we continue on foot. We pass through Kirəvud and finally find a suitable spot to set up our tent just before Böyükəndil. I can't manage to set up the tent myself, so two locals help me. In the end, I end up at Shafik's home. After having tea with his father Shalik and his cousin Nizam, I am asked to stay. Since there is a shepherd dog on the property, Rango has to stay in the sheep pen. Then I go with Nizam and Shafik to fetch their sheep from the mountains before I can take a shower and then have a small dinner. They cook lamb with vegetables, yogurt, bread, and cheese. Everything is very delicious. I'm quite tired from my day of hiking. Including the sheep search, I covered about 25 km. Around ten o'clock, I'm the first one to retire to the sleeping area.

Before breakfast on Saturday morning (August 17, 2019) at Aliyev's, I show Shalik my equipment. He seemed quite interested the night before. So after setting up and taking down the tent again, we have bread, cheese, curd, and some fruit for breakfast. Of course, there is also tea. Shortly before nine o'clock, Rango and I are back on track to the northeast. Due to the unfavorable hiking conditions (hot, dry, little shade, little water), I have decided to try to get a ride to Masalli as soon as possible. On the way to the major road, we come across Balaba at a water source. After a short conversation, it turns out that the man is also going to Masalli on the same day. He still has something to do until then, so I walk with Rango for now. We reach a small stream at half past ten and take a break in the shade for a while. Shortly after we start walking again, we can get into Balaba's Lada. I am very grateful for this at the moment. The road we would have had to walk along would definitely not have been enjoyable. After a tea break, we arrive in Masalli around lunchtime. I buy food for Rango and a small lunch for myself. Then we find a shady spot and rest again. It doesn't take long before some children discover us. They keep us company, and some adults join us, and tea with pastries is organized. After a few hours, it's time to take a short walk around the town. It's all quite unremarkable, and I'm not quite sure why someone recommended a visit here. We finally return to the bus station near the bazaar around five o'clock. I want to go back to Lankaran to continue my journey to Baku on Sunday. I share a taxi with some locals for a small amount of money. In Lankaran, I first go to the train station. I am assured that I don't need to buy tickets for the train the next day, it is sufficient to show up again around nine in the evening. The dog is not a problem, I am assured. It almost seems too easy. Then I organize dinner and go to the familiar camping spot near the beach. I set up camp, go for a swim, and then prepare a small dinner. Then it's time to go to sleep.

I have planned for smaller repairs on Sunday. After having breakfast and a swim in the river mouth in the morning, I glue my coffee cup and my mattress back together. Then I take a short trip with Rango into town. When we come back, there is an unpleasant surprise at the tent. A herd of goats is behind my tent, and most of the animals look at me guiltily. My tent is flattened in the truest sense of the word. I chase away the herd and inspect the damage. A few tears in the outer tent and a bent pole seem to be repairable, luckily. The pole is quickly straightened out again, and the tent, along with the inner tent, is set up. I make some coffee and spend the next two hours sewing the outer tent fly. Then I relax a bit before packing up our gear and heading to the train station. I arrive there around half past eight, leave Rango there, and go to the ticket counter. Especially when the train official talks to his supervisor on the phone, it becomes clear that the train ride to Baku could also fail. And indeed, there is no whole cabin available for us anymore. I express my dissatisfaction with the situation. Quite clearly! A local man has watched the whole back and forth and offers to organize a seat for me and Rango on the night bus to the capital. Less than 10 minutes later, I get the OK and can stow my backpack in the back of a bus that is only half full of seats. Then I sit down with Rango on a bench and have a little snack. Rafik, who organized the ride for me, joins me for a while. He advises me to keep an eye on my valuables. When I put my lunch back in the bus, it becomes clear why. Someone just took a shot. The cutlery is still on the back seat, and they are basically wandering through the bus. So I take my documents and credit card for safety. The journey starts shortly after ten o'clock. We make a detour in Lankaran and load cargo. So the back of the bus gradually fills up with various goods. I can identify bags of bay leaves and rat poison. A few other passengers also get on. The fixer gets off along the way, which I'm relieved to see. Until then, it wasn't quite clear whether he might be part of the bus crew. When we reach the highway to the north after an hour, the drivers change during the journey. Speed up and coast until the second driver is behind the wheel. Then the first driver in the back of the bus starts inhaling some kind of smoke that he evaporated on a piece of foil beforehand. A bus ride that is fun. A bus ride that is nice. In this case, it seems quite adventurous to me, especially since shortly afterwards the driving personnel changes again. But since the other passengers still seem quite relaxed (I am the only one with insight into what is happening in the back of the bus) and we are traveling quite comfortably on the highway, I am quite confident that we will arrive in Baku in one piece. Until then, I doze off a little. Way back in the bus and always with at least one vigilant eye open...