Azerbaijan > Waiting for the boat

Today is Milko’s birthday. During breakfast, we give him a little gift. At ten o’clock, we ask the hotel receptionist to call the number we were given. There’s no answer. He calls the shipping company but can hardly get any useful information. He suggests that we take the hotel’s taxi to the port and try to arrange tickets for tomorrow’s ferry there. As we drive toward the coast with him, we enter a kind of street circuit.

Azerbaijan - The old center of Baku with the Flame Towers in the background

In three weeks, Baku will host the Grand Prix. Concrete barriers are already in place everywhere, and new asphalt has been laid. Clearly, they can build good roads here. At the port building, we get nowhere either. They refer us on. At the ferry port, there is a ticket office. Things go better here. “You can take the Turkmen ferry today,” explains the woman in good English. It’s still unknown when the next Azerbaijani ferry will depart. It seems unlikely there will be enough cargo for a boat tomorrow evening. She advises taking today’s ferry. We agree that the taxi driver will be called when we need to come to the port. This does mean we only have a few hours to explore the city today. Quickly, we are dropped off in Baku’s old town. One of the main attractions is the Maiden Tower. Large groups of children and local tourists are gathered in front of it. Everyone seems to want to go inside today, which causes problems on the spiral staircase. Because everyone is going up on the outside, descending inside is slow. Eventually, we manage to climb the seven floors to the roof of the 29-meter-high tower. From here, we have a view over the city of Baku and the Caspian Sea. A heavy layer of smog hangs over the city. In the distance, I can just make out the silhouette of the Flame Towers, Baku’s most striking modern buildings.

Azerbaijan - The Maiden Tower in Baku

We continue walking along the city wall. Runners are everywhere. There seems to be some sort of race happening. The runners carry route cards, and some are searching for the correct route. The city feels oppressively hot. I’m glad I can just walk. Along the boulevard, I wade briefly into the Caspian Sea—had to do it at least. No beach, just large rocks. We have lunch on a terrace under a parasol. Around three o’clock, we return to the hotel. We cancel our room for tonight. We had already paid for two nights. Without any problems, we get the money back and are allowed to keep the room. What will happen next? The taxi driver hasn’t been called yet. The hotel staff says it will be fine. Around 4:30, the driver arrives. “You need to go to the port now.” The hotel owner has a little gift: two miniature motorcycles for the motorcyclists and four bottles of Azerbaijani wine for us. A gift. A bit shyly, we accept and thank him warmly. Such hospitable people in Azerbaijan. The taxi driver leads us to the port. We park the car at a police post. First, vehicle registration is done. We enter a small booth. “Are you going to Turkmenistan? Do you have a visa? Is it valid?” After we answer “yes” three times, he wishes us a good trip. Then it’s time to wait. No idea for what. The little man in charge says we need to pay for the bridge—a sort of port fee, it seems.

Azerbaijan - The coast of Baku is shrouded in smog

When paying, we use up our Manat. Suddenly, a factor of 1.4 is added. It seems to be a multiplication based on the dollar rate. When we ask about it, the fee is removed. Strange. By eight o’clock, after hours of waiting, we must go to a window with our passports. A note is issued. Then we can finally drive the car onto the ship. Just before entering, we have to go through Azerbaijani customs—car papers and passports. Then we drive onto the Berkarar, a Turkmen ferry. We are the first to park in the hold. On the upper deck, payment is required: one ticket for the car and one ticket for the crossing including a cabin. In total, $460 for two people. The ferry looks well-kept. The cabins are clean and in good condition. A fine place to spend the night. Quickly, we go to the restaurant. It is only open until 23:00 Turkmen time. By now, after moving our watches an hour forward, it is just past ten. The restaurant appears closed. The waiter says it will open tomorrow. The ticket clerk, who had told us it would be open, disagrees. Angry, he walks with us to the restaurant. The restaurant opens after all. We order chicken with fries. Alcohol is not available on board. In the cabin, we have a small bottle of wine from the Baku hotel owner. A lovely farewell to Azerbaijan. When we go to bed, the ferry is still in port. It is midnight, Turkmen time.