Troisième Jour Paris: Day Three
Bonjour en cette nuit pluvieuse à Paris – Hello on this rainy night in Paris—
OK… so today was really rainy, but not very cold (in the 40s and 50s; actually the temperatures have been quite pleasant and while we’ve had some overcast days, this was the first day where the rain really got in the way. But we persevered. Today was Mike’s birthday so we headed off to a pretty swanky brunch place requiring a 30-minute walk… uphill about 200 meters to the Hotel Particulier, which is located in a somewhat secretive setting requiring entry by reservation and through a gate. The restaurant is located inside a very small hotel with a very big reputation—just 5 suites I’m told and getaway places for those who can afford the prices (I didn’t get the price sheet). Supposedly, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, Cameron Diaz and others of that ilk have stayed in one of these five rooms. I thought it might be snooty, but the restaurant was quite charming and staff was very friendly. It’s nestled in a hidden alley that you could easily miss—looks like a private entrance into a park, which it sort of is. The house/hotel is the former residence of the Hermes family. It must be beautiful in the spring when you can dine outside when the gardens are all in bloom.
We lingered over the set three-course brunch menu and of course began with some champagne for Mike and Lillet for me.
Before we left our two-hour brunch, I went downstairs to use the bathroom. Inside my private toilet was a brass plaque (see photo) that said “Brad Pitt pissed here”…. See not snooty at all ! Naturally I had to peek into the other stalls and found that Cameron Diaz and Jacques Chirac had also pissed there ! So much for formality. I expect to return again to see a brass plaque stating “that “Fern Tiger pissed here.”
But, while downstairs, I also checked out one of the private reception rooms and adjoining gardens and some other women who were also having brunch were looking around as well. They asked if I could take a photo of the three of them. I obliged and asked where they were from (since they were speaking American English). They said “California”.. I said “Me too, where ?” and they replied “Bay Area”.. I said “Me too, where specifically ?” And they said “Oakland.” That was pretty serendipitous,. But it got even more so. Turned out that the three women are long time friends and I think have similar age children who are also friends. One of the kids was doing a semester abroad in Paris and the mother came to visit. The other moms and their children came along for the ride and to have fun. One of the women turns out to be a developer or development consultant who works with nonprofits. Somehow it came up (all of this conversation is happening just outside these toilets) that I was married to an architect and the developer said “Oh I know all the architects in the Bay Area, who is he ?” I said Mike’s name and of course she knew him and has done some projects with his firm. Eagerly, she came upstairs to the restaurant to say hi to Mike (see photo) which she had someone at her table take. Small world ?? Then she asked for my email so she could send the photo to me (not sure why she didn’t get Mike’s email and send it directly to him). Anyway, once I gave my name she said… “Oh I know about you and I think you are on my database.” (Whatever database that is) I really don’t know who she is. But it got even more crazy. The women asked if we were only going to be in Paris or if we were traveling. When I said we were headed to Bulgaria, one of them has a good friend married to a Bulgarian and is reaching out to get restaurant recommendations for us.
After that episode we walked in the rain (no umbrellas, only hoods) to see the sculpture of the man walking through the wall, which is also in Montmartre and just about two blocks from the Hotel Particulier. It’s by Jean Marais from the late 1980s. It’s based on a story written in the 1940s by Marcel Ayme and the location of the sculpture is on Place Marcel Ayme. The story (based on my quick research after seeing the sculpture) is about a man who finds that he can walk through walls. The hand that is sticking out from the wall is super shiny while the rest of the sculpture has aged and turned dark. This is due to the fact that so many people touch the hand. Perhaps, like Mike, they are trying to pull him out of the wall.
We continued our walk and found ourselves at the Musee de Montmartre… Those of you who know me, know I am not a big fan of museums and don’t like to spend a lot of time inside museums while traveling. But it was raining… Anyway, the Montmartre Museum is delightful, set in the charming 17th century house and grounds that was the residence over time for many artists, writers, and other creatives including Renoir, Dufy, and Suzanne Valadon. The permanent collection includes the story of Montmartre—from its days filled with mills and vineyards to the urbanization of the area and the annexation of the area into the city of Paris. Over the years this place became the hangout and residence for many artists and cafes and caberets and the population of Montmarte grew… and the area was seen as the bohemian part of Paris.
The museum has a large collection of the posters and actual publications of “Le Chat Noir” — a weekly literary magazine that included information about the nightclub of the same name and also political satire. The club became very popular and moved twice to larger quarters. The Salon of Incoherent Arts actually began at the club. All sorts of famous writers, poets, artists gathered at the club and also contributed to the journal. Neither the club nor the journal had much longevity (15 years ?). A side note— One of the Chat Noir posters is shown prominently in Breakfast at Tiffanys. Despite the rain (or because of it), we strolled around the museum/house.
And then we trekked back to the hotel… to get ready to have dinner. We (I) selected Chantoiseau which would have been a 15-minute walk (uphill) from our hotel. Alas, we wimped out and took a taxi since the rain wasn’t letting up. Chantoiseau is a small place with a very simple interior—maybe seats 30 ? Food was great and service matched. For the foodies—we started with oysters which came with some kind of vinaigrette and a tiny piece of kiwi sitting in each shell. The kiwi gave a little sweetness to the vinegar and the oysters were huge and perfect. We also had a second starter –-a sea bream carpaccio which came with some kind of a yogurt with very finely diced herbs and maybe cucumbers and pomegranate seeds… Whatever, it was truly fantastic. Then for main courses we shared the sweetbreads and an entrecote with baby vegetables. Everything was perfect. Since it was Mike’s birthday we didn’t pass on dessert—a lemon tart with some kind of lemon panna cotta (I think).
OK… that’s it. December 21 is over. On to the 22nd.
All the best-
Fern
PARIS DAY 2: Deuxième Jour
Greetings from Paris… in the wee hours—
Today we began our walking days… clocked in at about 15,000 steps and 12 floors. And I can feel it.
We headed to Sacre Coeur, the focal point of Montmartre—a basilica (don’t ask me what the differences are between a cathedral and a basilica and a church) located at the top of the hilly Montmartre neighborhood in the 9th ar. From the dome, which is about 200 meters above the Seine, the basilica overlooks the entire city of Paris and its suburbs. It’s a big attraction and the lines are often very long to get inside. Approaching the basilica is a bit like a circus with various mimes and hawkers selling everything from miniature basilicas to Eiffel Tower key chains, and then there are the singers and performers and those selling crepes on the street. In any case the interior is quite striking (although for me a bit too overrun with commercial signs “advertising” all sorts of events related to the church.
From what I was able to glean from the Internet, while waiting to enter Sacre Coeur, the basilica was first proposed in the late 1800s after the defeat of France and the capture of Napoleon in the Franco Prussian War. Apparently, Napoleon blamed his defeat on France’s moral decline and proposed the formation of a new church dedicated to the “sacred heart” of Jesus. The building was conceived before the outbreak of the Paris Commune, but it wasn’t constructed immediately. And since it was to be built at the highest point in the city, overlooking the area where the Paris Commune began, it remains for some, even today, controversial with politicians on the Left because it symbolizes the reactionary politics of the time.
We took a very circuitous route to get to Sacre Coeur – meandering through narrow alleys and cobblestone streets that are classic Montmartre. We stopped at one of the many Christmas markets, went to see several “passages,” and followed some of the street art that adorns many streets in the area. One big attraction seems to be a giant installation that covers one side of a large building. It’s systematically represents every written/spoken language using many different fonts and handwritten phrases—all of which translate to “I love you.” Being the “city of love” I suppose this is a logical statement. The place is filled with people taking selfies and photos with partners. We skipped the photo op but I did take lots of pictures of others taking pictures of themselves and their sweeties. A bit too schmaltzy for me… but I loved how much attention it got.
We also did a bit of window shopping. And we stopped at Halle Saint Pierre—a wonderful building that houses an art focused book store, a café, a gallery dedicated to “outsider art,” and more. We spent quite a bit of time there and came close to buying a few things, but then realized the difficulty of carrying the stuff back.
Oh, I should mention that we cheated a bit and took the funicular from the base of the church property to the three flights of steps leading to the entry. It’s a one- or two-minute ride. I actually love funiculars. Once we left Sacre Coeur we headed to see the oldest winery (very small) in Paris and that took us on another route back to the hotel where we needed to hustle to freshen up for dinner.
Tonight we headed to 404, a tagine/Moroccan food place that I really like and where I’ve gone numerous times on various visits here. Took the Metro which was quite efficient. The area where 404 is located—on a very narrow street—has lots of ethnic restaurants, all pretty small. We opted for the pastilla (which is a favorite ever since we were in Morocco) followed by a wonderful lamb and apricot tagine. Drank Moroccan wine… and ended with a simple orange salad.
Took the Metro back to the hotel using a different route, and here I am —finishing up this little memoir for today.
We will be in Montmartre for two more days and then we will move to the Saint Germain neighborhood—before heading to Geneva briefly and then on to Sofia. We also decided we would take the train on Christmas Day to Angouleme to have Christmas dinner with our niece and her family. The dinner will be at the home of Julia’s mother-in-law and there will be lots of people from Julien’s side of the family. On the 26th we will head to Geneva to see Mike’s sister-in-law. More on all of that as the days proceed.
Best –
Fern
Paris Day One December 2024
Greetings and Happy Holidays from Paris : Salutations et joyeuses fêtes
After a very hectic 6 weeks — NYC for a family event and to speak about my book at Pratt Institute (hosted by the School of Planning, the Art School, and the City of NY Cultural Affairs and Engagement Commission on November 11); 5 days in Mexico City on the annual girls trip, focused this year on Frida Kahlo; New York State (Columbia County) for the burial of my sister-in-law (a « green burial » in Rhinebeck NY; Thanksgiving ; the Book Launch Party in Oakland on December 4 ; and morew— we headed to Paris (and en route to Sofia, Bulgaria) for our pre-scheduled Christmas trip. It was not easy to finish Xmas shopping and packing, but we did it (sort of).
Flight was (fortunately) uneventful, but when we landed, somehow we got on the « all passport » line instead of the line that is for Brits, Americans, Canadians, Mexicans which moves very quickly. Our line was for passport holders from non-EU countries and not the four countried I just mentioned. I guess these other people needed visas or something and woulde re3quire more time. After not making any headway on our line, we decided to go all the way back to the beginning of the process and join that American/Brit, etc. line. Made it through very quickly once we did that. By then we were pretty exhausted and opted for a taxi instead of taking the train which is more our norm.
We arrived on a very grey, drizzly December afternoon. Haviing been to Paris many times, we opted to stay in the 9th arrondissement in Montmartre—an area we have never explored in depth. We’ll stay in Montmartre for four nights and then shift to the Saint Germain area where we have stayed numerous times. Anyway, we are at Hotel Rochechouart which looked better on the website than in person, but i twill be fine and is well located within the heart of the neighborhood. The building is from the 1920s and has a lovely Art Deco facade and an amazing rooftop (which in summer has a pretty buzzing bar) with views of both Sacre Couer and the Eifel Tower in the distance. Staff seems friendly and helpful, although when I asked if we could get BBC or any English news programs on the TV, the woman at the desk said «Perhaps this is a good time to practice your French ! » My French is at about the first grade level, having taken it in high school for just one year. So, perhaps in a good way, we will not be exposed to any news (other than on the phone) for a few days. Mostly, the problem with the hotel is that the rooms are painted in fairly dark colors and they are a bit dreary. Then again, we have a little terrace with good views. Tomorrow we will explore Montmartre as we « hike » to Sacre Couer through the winding streets of the neighborhood.
The sun broke through the clouds at about 3 :00 and everything seemed to brighten, as people emerged on the streets and later Christmas lights seemed to appear everywhere. We walked to a little bistro-like restuarant called Le Bon Georges, a few blocks from our hotel, for our 10 :00 pm reservation (When in Paris, eat when the Parisiennes eat !) Turned out to be a wonderful restaurant with a lot of locals and a very friendly and accommodating staff. Reading menus in another language is always challenging as they have all these descriptive words that are hard to figure out.
We ordered a really nice Pinotage from South Africa along with two starters : foie gras which came with wonderful toasted fruit breads (think apricots and raisins and almonds) and a delicate chutney on the side. The portion was huge. Given that it is illegal to sell foie gras in California (or so I believe) we decided to take advantage of the ease of getting it here in France. I don’t have any problem with the ban back home; in fact it made it ever more special to have it here. We followed that with a wonderful dressed green salad topped with (barely) hard-boiled eggs in a homemade mayonnaise. For the main course we opted for the pork (cochon) which was served in a mustard sauce with tiny lentils. We just couldn’t pass on dessert so we had the famous Paris Brest with almond paste and way too much wonderful cream. (By the way, we almost ordered the duck which sounded great, but the waiter kept reminding us that sometimes you find small pellets in the duck because it is so fresh and the gunshot might still be in the duck.)
We strolled back to the hotel and will call it a night, but first we need to go on line to make our third valiant attmpt to get tickets/reservation to get into Notre Dame. You can only book reservations two days prior to your desired dates and the tickets open up at midnight for the subsequent two days. We had trouble doing this from the states because of the time differences. But now we hop ewe can make it work.
Success ! We have reservations to get inside Notre Dame on Sunday at 2 :00. Not sure how long you’re permitted to stay inside. Guess, since the renovation is so new and its holiday time, lots of people are trying to get inside. It’s free, but you need the reservation or you have to wait in very long lines.
By the waym the photos inclulde Mike looking at the wine « list » which is a giant book ; the view fromn our terrace, Le Bon Georges from the outside and inside, and Sacre Couer from the rooftop of our hotel at about midnight.
All the best— More about Montmartre tomorrow.
Fern
Traveling Stateside
Greetings
Hope you are well and vaccinated!
So, I rarely write my travel blog when I’m traveling within the US, but given the dearth of travel over the past 18 months (maybe it’s 19 already?), just going to the east coast seems exotic and even daring! Thus, I am sending this little series of travel notes to my regular readers. As usual, don’t feel obliged to read it… I’m fine if you just toss it; we all get way too many emails.
I’m on a little “vacation” — about 4 days in DC and 4 days in NY, places I know fairly well having traveled to DC many, many times and having grown up in NY and returned many times a year since relocating. Still, the whole idea of getting on a plane and being in different surroundings seemed both comforting and also scary. This from a veteran traveler who’s been to more than 65 countries. This was only my second cross country trip since Covid. But the timing was good; I just finished two large, complex, multi-year projects and was ready for a break.
I’m traveling with my friend Carol from LA (whom I’ve known since graduate school — and I’m not revealing how long ago that was). Carol and I have developed a routine of traveling somewhere every year (Santa Fe, Marfa, Montreal, Provence, Amsterdam, etc.), but naturally we missed last year (supposed to be travel to Scandinavia). It’s generally Carol’s choice as to the location since I’ve been to many more places and am happy to revisit the good ones. Given the Covid situation we decided to stay stateside this year, although this December Mike and I will hopefully be traveling overseas.
Arrived in DC on Friday night (October 22) and met up at the airport. Miraculously our two flights arrived within 15 minutes of one another, were both on time, and were at neighboring gates. How’s that for planning? And luck?
We chose The Line Hotel in the Adams Morgan neighborhood which has certainly become a very buzzing place since the last time I visited. My room has a distant view of the Washington Monument! We were hungry and it was already about 11:00 pm… Every place we checked out within a three block radius was closing the food options. We were getting kind of desperate and then stumbled on a taco place.. So tacos it would be. As it turned out Taqueria Al Lado was great… margaritas, mojitos, tetillas, aguachiles, and ceviche… and great beers. So we satisfied our hunger in a really upbeat place with great people’s art on the walls – focused on Trump as a clown!
Saturday, October 23
Started the day with breakfast at the Line… which was surprisingly good and quick, since we had a busy day ahead of us.. Took the Metro to the Hirshhorn Museum to see the Laurie Anderson show which was quite striking g and political. While most of the pieces (mostly full room installations and experiential) were memorable – one stood out above the others: “Habeas Corpus.” It occupies an entire room and seated in a corner is an oversized three dimensional “white chair” on which Mohammed el Gharani, the youngest detainee at Guantanamo Bay “sits” most of the time and tells his story in his own voice. In reality he is on film that is projected onto the chair so realistically you believe he is sitting there. Gharani is Chadian raised in Saudi Arabia, and after the September 11th attacks, he was sent to Guantánamo and held and tortured for more than seven years. Authorities said he had belonged to a London-based Al Qaeda cell, but in reality he had never been to London and was only fourteen when he was arrested. In 2009, an American judge ruled that the allegations against Gharani were baseless, and he was released. We also spent some time at the Duchamp exhibit which was small but good.
While I thought the content and execution of Anderson’s show was great, my personal feeling is that it should be out on streets and not made precious by being inside a museum… but that’s a long story that ties to my basic dislike of museums as pedestals for art and for making art both precious and unreachable— and therefore negating whatever political message might have been part of the intent. Sure the Hirschhorn is free, so you could argue that the works are approachable; but a quick glance at who is inside the museum makes it clear that not everyone feels welcome in these kind of institutions. I didn’t see a single person of color at the museum. Then again, most are living the situations Anderson raises in her work, so no need to see it in a series of rooms.
From the Hirschhorn, we walked around the city, through the mall (Carol had not really been to DC much so we hit up some major sites) and ultimately decided to stop for a prosecco and a snack at the Willard Hotel… where we watched the town go by and watched a series of very upscale Washingtonians arrive for a very expensive and formal wedding reception. Like many of you (I assume), I always believed the story that the term “lobbyist” was coined at the Willard because President Grant would come by the hotel lobby for a brandy and a cigar and he was always besieged by people who wanted some sort of legislation.. Thus he called them “lobbyists.” Well, according to the information at the hotel the term was used well before Grant… but the reality remains that Grant would spend time in the lobby and that people would ask for favors.
I also realized that while I’ve been to DC many, many times, I’m usually there for meetings, work, etc. and sometimes add an extra day, I’ve never been a “tourist” in DC… so I’ve been looking forward to this.
Following our delightful time at the Willard, we went back to the hotel to freshen up and off we went to Tail Up Goat – a neighborhood restaurant with a Mediterranean menu. Food was fantastic.. We opted for all small plates: scallop crudo with watermelon radish and apples; baby honeynut squash with some kind of dill yogurt and chili crunch; duck breast with charred cabbage which had mint and sumac glaze; pork anglotti with rutabaga and rosemary. Given that we had walked about 6 miles, we determined we deserved dessert (a really good decision – some kind of toasted corn cake with paw paw custard and madera wine). We strolled back to the hotel… A good first day.
Sunday, October 24
Following a quick breakfast at the Line, we taxied to the African American Museum where we had reserved tickets for early entry. The taxi ride began a series of conversations with predominantly Ethiopian drivers who are happy to chat if you start the conversations. We learned that they really don’t like Virginia drivers whom they feel don’t understand cities and drive like the suburbanites they are. They also feel DC is very calm now with Biden – no big demonstrations and “no craziness” as they stated they experienced every day with Trump in DC. With Biden, they feel he is “sleeping” all the time, but they prefer it this way. The museum is quite wonderful with an enormous number of exhibits that range from cultural to political to historical to food, culture, music, theater, and more.
My only disappointment was that there wasn’t more effort to make the museum more interactive and to force visitors to immerse themselves in the culture as well as the reality of daily life..
From the museum we walked to a little nonprofit restaurant called Immigrant food where we had wonderful shakshuka and salads.
Then it was on to Black Lives Matter Plaza, passing the White House and other official buildings… and then on to Planet Word – a very sweet small museum that focuses on the history of language with very creative and participatory exhibits. The elevator is totally book lined. (In one of the photos below, we are inside the elevator.)
According to my exercise app, we are averaging between 6 and 10 miles per day walking.
Coming next… the remainder of the Washington DC part of the trip. We are well and having a great time.
Fern
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Baku, Azerbaijan. Final Travel Note. 1/15/20
Greetings from Baku
Woke up to a really cold and overcast day, with rain pending.
We actually got up very very early (4:00 am) to watch the Democratic Debate – which was interesting, especially from this distance and as we transition home to face the realities of American politics. I’ll hold my opinions on the performances for the moment.
Decided to take a taxi to the trio of Flame Towers – which we see not only from our hotel room window, but also as a backdrop to nearly every part of the city — as they tower above the city because of their height and location at the top of a hill. It’s a love/hate relationship, I assume. The tallest of the three towers is about 600 ft tall. They symbolize flame/fire which is central to Zoroastrianism (fire worship) which has roots in Azerbaijan. One can love the amazing light show it projects nightly and some might even like the architecture; but it comes about because of the narrow distribution of wealth and is an homage to wealth and corporate power. Anyway, given the inclement weather, we figured this would be a good thing to see from the inside.
As it turns out only one tower is occupied by the very luxurious Fairmont Hotel (whose lobby was filled with women in very elegant burkas and hijabs), and makes the Four Seasons look like a hovel. The other two towers are unoccupied, although recently a Lamborghini showroom opened on the ground level of one of the two empty buildings. One building is intended to be residential (but I get the sense that marketing may not be going so well) and the other will be commercial (offices). As of now they are just canvases for the nightly light shows. Once inside the lobby with its soaring 50’ ceiling height, we went to the concierge and asked if we could get to the top floor. We thought there might be a bar or restaurant, but those services are on the lobby level. We explained our professional interest (aargh!) and a young bellman standing near the desk then said something to the concierge and then told us that he would take us up to the top floor to see the view (and also show us the luxurious suite — $1,000 per day – on that top floor from which we would get really good views), just in case on a return trip we might decide to book that suite!
And up we went.. stepping out of the elevator to an amazing view of the whole city (we could see our hotel and the entire old city), including parts we had not yet visited. The young guy is a film student and wants to create action movies (!!) and loves American film and the US. He spent quite a bit of time with us. We found out that the buildings took three years to build and cost $350 million, which is incredibly cheap compared to what it would cost to construct in the US. From this vantage point we could also see the Carpet Museum (whose design looks like a rolled up carpet in section) and the Music Museum which are both located close to the sea — a rambling walk downhill through a series of parks from the Fairmont to the Caspian Sea. Given the weather we thought we might visit; we were told we could take a “cable car” from just across from the Hotel all the way to the museum… Turns out it is a funicular.. so we navigated crossing the street to the funicular station (which I think was probably funded by the Fairmont since its logo is on the entryway. Naturally, when we got to the entry of the funicular, it was closed for lunch so we hung around—checked out the Turkish mosque. Another man was waiting for the funicular; he was visiting from Pakistan (he carried a selfie stick and took nonstop photos – including one with us and one with him and Mike).
The funicular was spanking new and delivered us practically to the doorstep of the Carpet Museum, which turned out to be far more interesting than we anticipated. We also encountered a very cute school group of 2nd graders (I’m guessing) who had never before been on an escalator… It was delightful to watch the teachers explain how to use the escalator and to see the kids excitedly try it out. Kids wore school uniforms. After scoping out the museum, we were headed to the music museum but it began to rain and got very windy, so we ducked into the museum for a quick lunch (soup) and then decided it was best to head back to the hotel to pack. By then we were pretty beat and decided to cancel our dinner reservations (would have had to walk in the rain and wind) and just eat at the hotel so we could get an early start tomorrow to get to the Baku Airport.
With regards from a city that can mix oil money wealth with 12th Century ruins and carpets with cuisines…. From a totally unfamiliar language to incredible hospitality and politeness.. from underground passageways and walkability… from restrictive politics and gleaming new buildings… from a new law that enables the president to have an unprecedented number of terms of office… Good-bye Baku; Good-bye Azerbaijan.. we had but a glimpse of the best of you.
So this is the end of our trip and of my notes to you. We leave in the morning.. homeward bound…. Via Istanbul and Frankfurt.. and eventually SFO.
Take care. See you stateside.
Fern
Baku. January 14, 2020
Greetings from Baku Azerbaijan –
And just like that the Christmas decorations (all Santa Claus, no religious symbols) all around town and in the hotel as well, disappeared and it was Spring and flowers. And just like that, our days in Baku and in Central Asia are coming to an end. Tomorrow.
Today was a beautiful sunny day in Baku; we walked for hours in the old city (a UNESCO heritage site) with buildings dating to the 12th Century (and some saying as early as the 9th Century). In 1806, when Baku was occupied by the Russian Empire there were as many as 500 households living in what is now known as the walled “Old City”… In the early part of the 19th Century, the walls were repaired and those who lived within the walls of the old city were considered to be natives of Baku. They lived close to the bazaar and to the mosques. When the Russians came, many European style buildings were constructed and Baroque and Gothic buildings were created. Today, the Old City is home to about 1000 residents and the location of many delightful restaurants, shops, and cobblestone walking streets.
We had breakfast at a local place called Qanisi (I should mention that Azerbaijanis would easily win at Scrabble since they have so many words that start with the letter “q” and don’t require the letter “u”… The old city is a cacophony of winding narrow and curving stone and cobblestone streets, alleys, and stairs that lead to houses, squares, and important spaces. The original footprint of the city is several centuries old, but the Russo-European architecture of the 19th Century definitely impacted the sense of the old center.
We strolled and strolled (my foot seems to be a little better, but I’m still a bit hesitant on the uneven pavement and steps) and wound up at the Museum of Miniature Books – which houses a collection of more than 3,000 tiny, tiny books – some of which are as small as 1” x 1”. They have little books from all over the world including the Communist Manifesto and the Bible. They have a whole section of dozens of books about 1.5” x 1.5” of Lenin’s work in many different languages. Most are bound as books while a few are single sheet folded accordions – obviously to my liking!
We eventually stopped for tea (getting to be a tradition) which came with what was called “jam” but is really chunks of fruit that have been candied or gelled. We had watermelon. A bit too sweet for us, but we ate enough not to be embarrassed or to insult the owner of the tea shop.
We then wandered to find Abad… a shop we had heard about that is government-run and sells crafts that are made throughout the country. The young guy who is cashier was most excited to learn we were Americans as he hopes to attend Illinois Institute of Technology (IIT), but worries about a visa. Again, we heard that America was great, and he, too, wanted to go into aerospace engineering and work for NASA. We bought a few things and then stopped at the hotel to drop off the bag… and headed to the waterfront which is across a big boulevard from the Four Seasons. You get there through a very modern underground tunnel with escalators and marble floors. Again, no trash, no graffiti, not even a cigarette butt. And with people constantly sweeping whatever little remnants might have dropped. It’s a grand walking boulevard that edges the Caspian Sea. No cars, pedestrian only. With an area for skating and skateboarders. We strolled for about a mile and reversed our path.
We then headed to Mugam Club for dinner.. a delightful place located within a 16th Century building that we believe was a caravansary – now a restaurant with lots of little rooms that come off a main space that is really a courtyard but which has been glazed over. For the foodies… we started with something called eggplant Langham (stuffed small eggplants – stuffed with the meat of the eggplant ground with nuts and pomegranate) and some kind of dolmas made with pistachio leaves instead of grape leaves. Both were very tasty and served with wonderful local bread. We then had two main courses.. a rice pilaf with chicken and apricots… and a lamb shish-kebab. Everything was wonderful except the lamb. We tried desperately to explain that we didn’t want the meat over cooked and wanted it to be “red” (rare), but maybe they thought we meant to be sure to cook it so that it was not rare. Anyway, the lamb was leathery. We should have learned by now that it is very difficult to order meat unless it is within a dish that has other items and is sort of stewed. Otherwise it always comes over-cooked. We had a nice local wine and then some mint tea.
Baku is truly a symbol of successful development for Baku’s wealthy elite. Our brief foray into a neighborhood outside the center showed that those living away from the core are no where near as comfortable as those within the core. And I imagine that those residing in rural areas are living well below the level of those in Baku. From what we’ve read, there is a lot of corruption and the current president (son of the former president), Aliyev and his family are billionaires, owning many companies in Azerbaijan as well as in Dubai. Thus, it appears that power is held in the hands of a few and those connected to that small group. I’m not an expert on Central Asia so this is really all I can say. I’m sure that given the location of the country bordered by Georgia, Armenia (with which it has a fairly adversarial relationship), and Iran – make it a complicated political struggle.
That’s it for today; one more posting tomorrow and that’s a wrap.
Fern
Baku. January 13, 2020
Greetings from Baku –
It was a rainy day in Baku so we decided to have breakfast at the hotel before heading out. Our original plan was to walk the old city, but we postponed that until tomorrow (hopeful tomorrow will be a better day, with some sun and at least no rain). So, change of plans.. after breakfast we decided we’d take the metro and get off at random stops to see different neighborhoods – an activity we’ve done in many cities and most recently in Tashkent. Breakfast at the hotel was actually quite wonderful. We shared a great shakshuka (my favorite breakfast dish) and birchermuesli which was also good. Then we headed out.
Stopped at the concierge desk to ask a few questions about the metro and it was clear that the hotel staff thought it was really funny that we wanted to take the metro; they were even more surprised when we asked a bit about neighborhoods where wealthy people lived and those where lower income people lived, and which metro station would get us to the different neighborhoods. Anyway, off we went. The walk to the closest metro station to the hotel was uphill and through a really nice park. After about 15 minutes walking in the wind and rain, we arrived at the station. It took us a little time to figure out the system and how to purchase a ticket. You need exact change and the machine instructions were only in Azerbainjani (or at least that’s all we could see on the screen). We finally figured it all out and it turns out that there is an English option, but the button to click to change to English is not very prominent. We got the “cards” and off we went. The system is really very simple – only two lines: the red and the green.
The stations are immaculate; no litter; no gum on the floors; no trash. There is one station monitor who seems to have a ping pong paddle-like thing in her hand – one side is red. We never figured out what she does with it. But once again, she doesn’t look like she likes her job. The trains were quite crowded and looked like 1960s vintage although they have clearly been refurbished and painted. People were polite. One funny thing is that when the train approaches each station, in addition to having an announcement about the name of the station and the next station on the line, classical music plays. Each station has a different classical piece. I suppose this is their way of letting blind people know the station and also a secondary way for all passengers to identify each station. And perhaps it’s also a way to make each station feel very palatial and to have a kind of grandeur to match the stations.??? Oh, as you can see in the photo of the sign—many things are prohibited on the stations and trains, including spike heels/
We decided that we should see the Zaha Hadid building (the Heydar Aliyev Center) which houses a museum and convention areas and other spaces. Frankly, visiting it was like a “check-the-box” decision. We only saw the outside since it’s closed on Mondays. Neither of us were impressed. It’s totally out of context – sort of plopped down in the middle of a neighborhood and I’m quite certain that many people living on that site were probably displaced to create this monument to culture. Mike created a new term called “plop architecture” which is quite appropriate. I guess this is Azerbaijani urban renewal.
By then it was really raining and we decided to take a taxi back to the metro. The taxi driver didn’t speak any English but was very excited when he found out we were Americans. Turns out his son won the green card lottery and now lives in NY (probably Queens) although the father didn’t have an address, only a cell phone number. We did communicate enough to learn that the son is studying computers and that (ironically) he works as a taxi driver in NYC (perhaps to pay his way through his computer course). At least this is what we think he was trying to convey. When we approached the metro station, the driver refused to take any money from us. He was still so excited to meet an American. Another taxi driver remarked in limited English that Azerbaijan was 10% good and 90% not good; America very good. So what can I say?
We then went on our way checking out a few neighborhoods near metro stations and eventually the rain got to us and we headed back to the hotel; decided to try the high tea service in the restaurant and sort of pigged out… Then I did some work in the room… and eventually we went out for dinner.
The concierge suggested a place called Sumakh. It was incredibly good. I think we are making up for all the rather boring meals in Uzbekistan. Menu looked so good, we definitely over-ordered. Started with a wonderful eggplant appetizer (char burned and smashed to add tomatoes, peppers, onions, garlic) served with home-baked bread; followed by a pasta (dumplings stuffed with lamb in a pomegranate sauce – yummy); and then two main courses: sturgeon topped with greens and served with three dipping sauces and garnished with cooked cherry tomatoes and kumquats; and chicken and plum sauce. Again we had a bottle of local wine… and tonight NO dessert. Would have had to roll me out.
It’s clear that Baku has a wealthy class and there are amazing streets lined with high end stores in the new section of the city. The driver of the wealth is the oil industry located here.
What we did learn (as a result of trying to research May 28 – because that is the name of a major boulevard and also a metro stop) is that the country has a very interesting history, including that the Russian Empire was overthrown after a very short revolution in 1917…. And on May 28, 1918 the Democratic Republic of Azerbaijan (ADR) was created as the first secular, democratic state in the Muslim East. It was founded by Mammad Amin Rasulzadeh who himself has a very very interesting life story, including “saving” Stalin in 1905 when he was hiding in Baku… and later being “saved” by Stalin when he himself (Rasulzadeh) was arrested and brought to Baku. (He had been hiding in the mountains). He was released on Stalin’s orders and sent to Moscow, where he was the press representative at the Commissariat on Nations. Rasulzadeh was a prolific writer and political philosopher/strategist. Eventually, he was sent to St. Petersburg where he escaped to Finland. He ultimately lived in exile in many countries including Poland, Iran, and Turkey. He is credited with saying “The flag once raised will never fall!” and I think this is part of the lingering desire to be independent. During his short reign, the country developed a flag with three color stripes: red, green, and blue. In 1991 when independence was again declared, they returned to the flag, but added the white crescent and 8-point star.
One important accomplishment of the ADR was providing suffrage for women, and granting them equal political rights with men. The Democratic Republic of Azerbaijan only functioned for 23 months – amid a very tumultuous political period. In 1920 the Soviet Union invaded. The idea of independence, however, carried on and in 1991 after the collapse of the Soviet Union, Azerbaijan declared its independence. The country is 89% Muslim but it’s so secular you do not get any sense of a national religion (and there isn’t any; that is made clear in the constitution).
Tomorrow, the old city…
And we are beginning to focus on our return later this week. We’re hoping to be able to watch the Democratic debate tomorrow. We get CNN, but it’s a European version, so not certain we will succeed. And we see from a zillion emails, that Bernie has opened an Oakland campaign office. So we’re trying to keep up. Frankly, it’s been good to be a bit distant.
All the best –
Fern
Goodbye Uzbekistan; Hello Baku! 1/12-1/13/2020
After about a 30-hour day…. January 12/January 13 2020
Final scoping out of Khiva (about 8 hours); One-hour car drive from Khiva to Urgench; two hour wait at Urgench Airport (in CIP Lounge); 1.5 hour flight to Tashkent; taxi from domestic terminal to international terminal (about 15 minute drive); flight from Tashkent to Istanbul (about 6 hours); flight from Istanbul to Baku (about 3 hours); taxi to Baku hotel (45 minutes); plus waits at each airport..
Our last day in Khiva was interesting as we scoped out the town and the market and then headed to the airport. As usual, I asked for some ice for my foot, and I had to “order” it a few hours in advance. When it came, it was always only about 6 ice cubes. Funny because it is below freezing outside, you’d think they could just put out a plate or bowl and make ice…
The guy who manages the hotel and handles the “front desk,” (Matir, I believe is his name) decided to be our taxi driver, which was good because he knows some English and we did want to have a quiet conversation with him to get a better understanding of the country and its politics. Matir knew most about the Khiva region which is part of the Khorezim “state” within Uzbekistan. He and his wife (a French teacher at the secondary school) were born and raised in Khiva (They live outside the Ichan Kala). They have three daughters but he said Uzbek people like large families and they will probably have about 5 children – he indicated that an average family size is 8 people, but not certain if that includes grandparents living at the home. He considers Uzbekistan to be very “free” with total access to television and the Internet – compared with Turkmenistan (which is contiguous to Uzbekistan) where there are many restrictions to free information and where women wear burkas and are held back with regard to education and social life.
Matir is probably about 35 years old; he owns a car (older model) and family income is probably about $15,000/year. He said that there is a push for entrepreneurism and encouragement by the government for the 300 families that live in the Ichan Kala to open their home for bed and breakfast style accommodations and for home style restaurants. Because of this, property values in the Ichan Kala have risen rapidly and now a home inside the old city could sell for about $50,000 or even $100,000. While Matir seems to think he has a good life, plentiful food, etc. he laments that he cannot travel to see the rest of the world because of financial restrictions.
We talked a bit about the role Russia played in Uzbekistan over many decades and the history of slavery (which officially ended during Czar Nicholas’ regime). Many of the slaves were Persians. Cotton has historically been the major national economic driver and as I recall from a visit to the amazing Slave Museum in Zanzibar last year, Uzbekistan is considered today to have one of the largest number of “modern slaves” in the world (forced labor at very low wages working to pick cotton). Matir did not discuss this issue. He feels lucky to live in such a wonderful region. We also learned more about the wedding processions that goes on daily: The bride and groom make the procession down that street in the Ichan Kala to be blessed at one particular mosque and to make a prayer at the well… a prayer to ensure they will have children.
We arrived at Urgench Airport which seemed almost dark as we approached the terminal. Because we had a first class ticket on Uzbek Air (cost was about $20 more than economy) we were told we could go to the CIP Lounge which I suppose is like a VIP lounge. It was a very brightly lit room with oversized couches and a very large table. No food, a flat screen television with only Russian stations, and a woman who tried to be helpful but knew no English. Anyway, we figured out that someone would come to tell us when to board the plane, which they did. I read an article in the Uzbekistan Airways magazine which was interesting with a good deal of very sexist language.
The flight was uneventful, except for being about 45 minutes late.
We landed in Tashkent and it was a good thing that we had read about transferring at Tashkent Airport because while the “two” airports share the same name they are miles apart and there is no real way to get from the domestic terminal to the international terminal on foot (even if you wanted to try to walk for about an hour. There supposedly is a bus to take between the two terminals, although even if we knew where to find it it would have been complicated with luggage. So we opted for a taxi which took about 15 or 20 minutes. We trudged into the international terminal and headed to our Turkish Air flight to Istanbul which left at 3:00 am. Landed in Istanbul at 7:30 am (two hour time change)… went through the transfer process and onto another Turkish Air flight to Baku which left at 8:45 am….
Landed in Baku (another time change in the reverse direction) at noon and then negotiated the taxi scene (their taxis look like they bought out an older fleet of London taxis) and finally arrived at the Four Seasons (!!!) – a wonderfully comfortable hotel located just outside the gate of the UNESCO-designated heritage site of the Old City. It’s a new building (2012) that was designed to fit into the landmark area (sort of pretending to be a late 19th century structure). That said, I’m not complaining.
After 12 days of very modest, small Uzbekistan hotels with limited or no service, steep stairs everywhere, menus that repeat at place after place, limited hot water, uncomfortable beds, and somewhat sketchy Internet — (although I’m not complaining and am glad we chose to be in the old section of each city and to support small, independently-run, locally-owned hotels) — it felt wonderful to walk into this spotlessly clean, shiny, tall-ceilinged space. Indeed, it almost felt fairy-tale-like. It was made ever more wonderful when I called to ask for ice and they brought up a huge bucket as opposed to the six or so cubes I was able to get in Khiva, and always needed to give them several hours advance notice in order to get that.
Anyway, we settled into a great room (complete with fresh apples in a bowl and bottles of water) with views of the “flame towers” off our little balcony. We went down to the cafe in the lobby for a snack and then I headed out to see if I could find a pair of shoes so as not to have to use my boots all the time ( a little challenging with the problem foot) and Mike took a nap. After a while I decided to return to the hotel without the shoes…. Long story. I then went up to the spa to get a manicure!! While there, they tried to convince me to get a botox treatment. I declined. We then headed to dinner in the old city — a very complicated walk up many stairs and down many teeny alleyways. I think there was really a direct path (still with some ups and downs) but somehow we kept getting lost.
Had a great dinner at Burc Qala – started with two different eggplant “dips” and the local breads.
Then shared a wonderful lamb with pomegranate and chestnut dish. Best food since we left Geneva. And we had a wine from Azerbaijan which was quite nice. Their wines (like Uzbekistan) are mild, dry, and quite pleasant to drink. The bottle of wine in Uzbekistan cost $6; here in Azerbaijan the bottle of wine was about $11. Waiters couldn’t help coming back to our table with little English comments that we had to decipher — about American basketball, US politics, and more. Basically, they like to watch basketball, don’t really understand US politics, and think America is great. And, they are always shocked to learn we have come from the US, always thinking we are either Germans or Italians.
We walked back to the hotel at about midnight, stopping frequently to photograph the Flame Towers which put on quite a light show every night — changing colors through lighting on each of the three buildings.. Blue, then red, then green then what look like people carrying the Azerbaijani flag (which is naturally red, green, blue), then what looks like water flowing on the buildings, then a scene of people with umbrellas, then flames, and then repeat… It is amazing to watch from different vantage points throughout the city and very mesmerizing. We trudged down the cobblestone streets, walking for a while in Kichiqala which seems like restaurant row. We returned to the hotel and Mike decided to try out the whiskey bar located on the lobby level… Finally we reached our room at about 1 am.
More tomorrow as we discover Baku.
Best –
Fern
Farewell Khiva. January 12, 2020
Vidolashuv O’zbekiston — Farewell Uzbekistan…Until next time…
While the prediction was for slightly warmer weather today (low 40s), it seemed colder than the other days because it was overcast and with some wind.
We decided to head for the big bazaar (market) which we thought was just outside the east gates of the Ichan Kala… but apparently the market was moved recently and split into two parts, although no one could explain if the parts were different. What the hotel said was that now there is a big market and one that is a little bit smaller (?) We decided on the big one. They said it was two kilometers from here, but that a taxi would be best as it’s a complicated route. And given the temperatures (30s) and my foot and the road and street conditions, we thought a taxi made sense so we asked the hotel to call a taxi and also to see if the taxi could wait for about an hour while we explored. Then we wouldn’t have to navigate where to find a taxi to get back.
The guy at the front desk who has some English, but peppers every sentence or even ever phrase with “honestly” said “Honestly, that is a good idea… I mean honestly there are taxis but hard to find, honestly” He also told us that he would like to drive us to the airport tonight (about an hour from Khiva, in Urgench). He said he would like to do it, but of course he will charge like a taxi. Honestly! So I suppose he will be our driver to Urgench.
The market is a big sprawling area that is probably the equivalent of 10 city blocks by 12 city blocks… perhaps larger. We were clearly the only foreigners there, with everyone else doing actual shopping. Unlike markets in many other places where vendors try to attract customers, it seemed as if people had regular customers and customers knew where they were headed. It’s an outdoor market so I really felt for the vendors who had to sit in the bitter cold to sell their goods. The clothing and accessories were all factory made… and as we, as Americans move to eliminate plastic — I think the Uzbekis are in the midst of a huge plastic surgence. Finally we reached the meat and produce and baked goods areas and the large area devoted to the many different kinds of rice and tea. We stopped at one rice vendor to ask which rice was used for plov… but either they didn’t understand the question (no one in the market spoke even a word of English) or perhaps they did…. she pointed to each huge bag of rice and said “Plov, Plov, Plov”… so who knows.. Maybe all of their rice options can be used for plov.
Customers and vendors alike were very friendly and occasionally said “Hello” or “Bye” and sometimes they said “Italy?” or “France”…. But when we answered “American” they often gave a thumbs up or smiled. We generally followed “America” with “California.” Not clear if they really knew but they gave another thumbs up. So, in response to the questions that some of you posed to me, about any reaction to current American international policy… I can say that we can get BBC News on the tiny, outdated TV in our room (not sure that locals can get it), and people remain very friendly to us. My general experience, having traveled in many countries where one might find antagonism toward the US, and possibly Americans, is that somehow people seem to get it that those Americans who travel, especially independently must be curious and interested in their lives. As such we have never encountered any anti American sentiment directed toward us, although we have understood their antagonism against the country we live in. Only once, were we attacked personally — and that was in Helsinki on May Day during the Vietnam War… when a rather drunk Finn said “Why are you killing little yellow people in Vietnam?” Since we had been living in Helsinki for nearly a year by then, we responded quickly with “We’re here in Helsinki celebrating May Day with friends and are not supporting any killing of yellow people in Vietnam…. and by the way, where in the US did you study since your English is excellent and with an American accent!” We then embraced and had a beer together.
Anyway at one point in the market a woman got very excited when we said we were Americans… she had heard because a lot of vendors were telling others that there were Americans at the market. She was a rice vendor. She leaned over from behind her perch and the bulk bags of rice and grabbed Mike’s coat… and she motioned to her cell phone (everyone has one). She called her daughter to tell her daughter that Americans were at the market. And then she handed Mike her phone. Her daughter was on the line and spoke some English; the mother wanted her to practice her English. From what Mike understood, the daughter was at the university – a psychology major (he thinks). They chatted in simple sentences and the mother was delighted. I think she became a bit of a star in the bazaar for this new friendship.
Then of course after meandering rows and rows and aisles and aisles of the somewhat depressing market, we needed to figure out where the taxi had left us. Probably needed to have kept some kind of marked route. But we did it; found the driver and we headed back to pack and ice my foot for a while. But first we walked to a lunch place close to the hotel and also stopped into what they call the “music museum.” It was in an old madrasa. I think the Uzbeks, given the secular nature of the country, have repurposed hundreds of madrasas into museums, shops, restaurants, craft workshops, etc. The museum was – like the others we’ve ventured into – filled with exhibits that were not very well crafted, dimly lit, and thus unfortunate. I think the history of their music is actually quite interesting and the Uzbeks, like many of the other Central Asian countries uses some fascinating instruments that produce sounds that are different from typical European string and wind instruments. Alas, they could use some help in exhibition design.
And along the way, we stumbled on two more weddings. I think that it is customary for the bride and groom to walk the east / west length of the Ichan Kala (either before or after the actual rituals). It’s sort of a stone paved walk in the pedestrian district. They sometimes make stops along the way into small mosques or to dance to the music playing at shops along the way. Today, I watched the bride remove her 4” white spike high heels (hidden by the pouffy dress) at the door of a small mosque, and for the groom to don a “kufi” (hat), that he had in his pocket… They were inside the mosque for only a few minutes and then back onto the walk.
We head to Urgench to fly to Tashkent… then somehow get to the International terminal in Tashkent and fly to Istanbul and transfer to Baku… It will be a true miracle if we make it, without a hitch. I’m about to repack and am preparing for the high probability that bags could get lost… so I’m moving several essentials to my computer carry-on bag, along with a few changes of clothing…. just in case. We are only in Baku a very very few days and hope we can get a lot in… Then we head home.
More from Baku.
Fern
Khiva January 11, 2020
Greetings from Khiva –
Decided to stay in room for a few hours this morning to do some work, ice my foot, and rest. It was probably a smart move as I felt more confident walking (and going up and down all those steep exterior stairs with uneven risers and some steps being about 12” high compared with our typical US step being 6” high). Anyway, we started at Djuma Mosque which is pretty amazing… with a roof supported by about 112 beautifully carved columns. The original mosque dates back to the 10th century, but the current building was reconstructed on top of that in the 1700s. It’s a wonderful space that gets interesting light and is very different from other mosques we have seen throughout Uzbekistan (and for that matter, in other countries). The space is filled with a huge number of carved columns, some of which came from the earlier structure. It’s super peaceful, dimly lit, and is a great respite from the bustling street on which it sits. Actually, you can imagine that these streets are probably quite busy in warm weather. It’s interesting to travel off season (which started when we were both in academia and the easiest time to be gone was over the Christmas holidays; summers would have been good on academic schedules, but too much was always going on in our offices during those months) because there are very few tourists and you do get a sense of real life activities in the more difficult time of the year, when produce and other goods are generally not too available. Not everyone would like this, but frankly, I really love it.
Anyway, we then strolled into a very old building (probably from the 16 or 1700s) that housed a permanent photo exhibit of images from the 1920s and 30s… Unfortunately, not very well exhibited or lit, but the images were interesting including some from the time of the Russian Revolution or shortly after. A great photo of a group was titled “The Intelligentsia” and another was of the Elected Farm Council.
We had a quick (well really nothing is quick here, so I should probably say light) late lunch – soup. Then we walked slowly to the other end of the Itcha Kala, where we will head again tomorrow to see Khiva’s big bazaar on the outside of the Itchan Kala, before we leave for the airport. After a brief stop at the hotel, we left for dinner.
While in the room this morning I did a little research and called a few restaurants. One that sounded good was going to be closed at night because the cook (owner, perhaps) was going to a birthday celebration for her niece. Another was closed for the season; another was closing because they feared there wouldn’t be enough customers. But, I talked to one man whose English wasn’t very good and he turned over the phone to his son (??) I was told that they were not opening their restaurant but they often serve meals in their home which is adjacent to the restaurant (which is actually adjacent to a large mosque). I said we’d love to eat at their home, so the arrangements were made and shortly after that I got a series of WhatsApps asking what we wanted to eat, drink, and what time we’d come. He also described the location, which was very central and off the main walking street (so we knew it wasn’t down little alleyways with rocky paths.
We left the hotel around 7 and arrived at the house. We were greeted by the son (?) and his wife and the restaurant worker.. and also two young children – a two year old rambunctious little boy and a very shy five year old girl. It’s a really big house which they use for a multitude of money-making ventures — quite entrepreneurial (which is apparently encouraged by the current government). They have a shop in front of the restaurant and they use the house as a bit of a hostel and also a small restaurant when the regular restaurant is closed. They can accommodate tour groups inside the house for meals as well.
Anyway, I’m going to close down now… Tomorrow (Saturday) after the market we take a one-hour taxi to Urgench (where the airport is) to fly on a domestic flight (1.5 hours) to Tashkent to then navigate how to get to the international terminal to catch Turkish Air flight to Istanbul (5.5 hours) then 3 hour wait at Istanbul airport to get 3 hour Turkish Air flight to Baku, Azerbaijan – about 10.5 hours of flight time plus waiting/transfer time of about 6 additional hours.. for a distance that could be covered in about 2.5 hours if there was a direct flight from Urgench to Baku… But alas.. this will be our route.
More from Baku…
Best –
Fern
