The Destination
The Country That Has Been Burning for Three Thousand Years
Azerbaijan calls itself Odlar Yurdu, the land of fire, and it is not a metaphor. Natural gas seeps out of the ground on the Absheron peninsula and, once lit, does not stop, a hillside at Yanar Dag has been burning continuously for as long as anyone can document, and a temple at Surakhani was built around a vent that drew Zoroastrian and Hindu pilgrims for centuries. The same geology that produced those fires produced the oil that made Baku the richest city on the Caspian twice over, a hundred years apart.
It is also far older than the oil. Half an hour south of the capital, the boulder field at Gobustan carries more than six thousand rock carvings spanning something like forty thousand years (hunters, dancers, reed boats, aurochs) and, incised among them, a line of Latin left by a centurion of the Twelfth Legion, which is as far east as any Roman inscription has been found. Beside it, several hundred mud volcanoes gurgle across a grey moonscape; Azerbaijan has roughly a third of every mud volcano on Earth.
And then the country stands up. North and west of the Caspian plain the Greater Caucasus rises fast, and the villages in it are as distinct as the range is steep: Khinalug at 2,300 metres, where a few thousand people speak a language related to nothing much and their transhumance routes are UNESCO-listed; Lahij, a cobbled coppersmiths' town in a gorge; and Sheki, where the Khans built a summer palace whose windows are made of thousands of pieces of coloured glass and hand-cut wood assembled without a nail or a drop of glue.
"Baku spent the twentieth century deciding what to be and the twenty-first building it. Two hours out of town, nothing has changed its mind in six hundred years."