Mingachevir

It's around seven o'clock on Thursday morning (01.08.2019) when I have breakfast not far from Böyük Dəhnə in the semi-desert. The landscape looks like the cliché that I have in mind of Azerbaijan. Hilly, ochre-colored, and sparsely populated by vegetation. An hour later, we are on our way to the settlement. The sun hides behind a thin layer of clouds and makes walking bearable. After about 2 km, we reach Böyük Dəhnə and Ruslan and his father immediately invite us for breakfast. Actually, it's too early for a break and probably not a very wise decision given the good hiking conditions, but the prospect of a cup of coffee is too tempting. Upon arriving at the family's property, we have breakfast together. There is coffee, tea, bread, cheese, sausage, butter, and various fruits and vegetables. Relatives and friends of the family come and go throughout the morning. It seems to be the mother's birthday. I can take a shower and my hiking shirt is washed. I also receive socks and a new top as a gift. Ruslan and his sister speak English quite well, and the father speaks Russian. So we can exchange some words. Once again, I have met very normal and extremely hospitable people. We say goodbye around 11 and I continue walking south along the highway with Rango. After about 10 km, we finally seek shelter under a tree in Aran to escape the sun. The clouds have disappeared by now and continuing to walk seems impossible for now. I manage to get some water from a resident but decline another invitation to eat. After relaxing for a bit, I try to organize a ride along the highway. It takes a while, but around four o'clock, we finally manage to hitch a ride with Razim. Rango jumps a little too quickly into the trunk and is allowed to stay there. A hole in the armrest of the backseat, just big enough for Rango's head, provides access to air conditioning from the interior. So the big guy doesn't suffocate, and my guilty conscience is limited. Razim is from Mingachevir and is a trader. So we visit several markets in several small villages on the way, where the man takes orders. In the evening, we reach Mingachevir and I am invited for dinner. Gradually, a few friends of Razim join us. There is bread, salad, and kebabs. Everything is very delicious. Later in the evening, the slightly tipsy guys drive me directly to the beach, which is about 3 km away. We say goodbye, and I look for a place to camp. I ask at a kind of beach bar and I am assigned a spot and immediately invited for tea and fried fish. Afterwards, I go swimming in the reservoir, wash my clothes, and retreat under the tarp.

On Friday morning, after breakfast in my tent, I am invited for tea, bread, butter, and cheese at the beach bar. Then I set off with Rango to the city. At the bazaar, I buy a pair of new shoes and then dispose of my hiking shoes, which have become irreparably damaged by now. I stroll around the city for a while and return to the beach in the late afternoon. We go swimming right away (Rango also cools down), and afterwards, I relax at the shady beach bar with a cool beer. I have a conversation with Aiche through an interpreter. The attractive young woman is an elementary school teacher and the mother of an eleven-year-old daughter. We get along quite well, but I am not spontaneous enough for the topic of marriage that is brought up. Later in the evening, Ragil and Tural invite me for food and drinks. So the evening extends well past midnight.

I spend Saturday morning (03. August 2019) at the campsite. Before the first visitors arrive at the beach, I splash around in the cool water and then have tea at the beach bar. In the afternoon, I stroll back to Mingachevir with Rango to visit the bazaar. Ragil has invited me to his bookstore and helps me organize a new muzzle for the big guy. I seem to have forgotten the old one when I dismantled the tent near Böyük Dəhnə. Then I have lunch with Tural, we eat dolma. I already know the dish from Romania, Georgia, and Armenia. According to Ragil, dolma tastes best in Azerbaijan. We drive through Mingachevir in his convertible, visit several places, and finally order the meatballs wrapped in vine leaves at a restaurant right by the Kura river. They are really delicious. Then we go to a cool arcade for tea and later go back to the river for swimming. In the late afternoon, I say goodbye and go back to the beach with Rango. If I understood the guys correctly, they were trying to arrange for some easy girls for the evening. That didn't seem appropriate anymore. I spend the rest of the day completely relaxed at the beach.

I start Sunday with breakfast in my tent, followed by tea at the beach bar. Then I stroll back into the city with Rango and pause at a small bar as usual. While strolling through Mingachevir, I bump into Ragil and Tural again. I am invited to eat again, and the girls from the previous evening are brought up in conversation again. The guys are persistent. In the late afternoon, I do some shopping, and then I return to our campsite on the shore of the reservoir with Rango. The evening passes by once again at the beach bar in good company.

On Monday, August 5, 2019, I had originally planned to move on, but the weather forecast predicted temperatures of over 30 °C and a cloudless sky again. Some cooling was only expected for Tuesday. So I stay near Mingachevir a little longer. After breakfast, I have tea at the beach bar, and at noon, almost out of habit, I go to my coffee bar at the entrance of Mingachevir. The owner Nico was born in Nagorno-Karabakh. This also explains the name 'Qarabag' of the establishment. We get along well, and I rarely get a chance to pay for my hot drink. The rest of the day I spend swimming and relaxing at the reservoir. In the evening, I am invited to three different dinners. I have an appetizer with the bar owner, and for the main course, a part of his family comes over to eat. They had to flee from Nagorno-Karabakh as well. They talk about the beautiful landscape, the mountains, the forest, and the good water that can be found there, and they wistfully mention that their children have not yet been able to see their homeland. Nevertheless, they are interested in my experiences in Armenia and the kind people there. I am persuaded to try a homemade spirit that is supposed to have around 80% alcohol. It's too strong for me, and the locals also seem to have a hard time drinking it. Later in the evening, Nico shows up at the beach bar again. Dessert, so to speak. I'm starting to feel stuffed. But since the food is all delicious, it's hard to say no. While taking the obligatory nighttime swim in the reservoir, I prefer not to swim too far out. Then, once again, it's late at night when I go to sleep.