Daily Mail

BLING IT ON, BAKU! The Azerbaijan­i capital is brash, over-the-top . . . and fascinatin­g, says Clive Aslet

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Are You ready for baku? it’s coming to get you. some people might be hard put to find it on the map (try the Caspian sea), much less think of going there, but the ancient capital of Azerbaijan on the silk road is modernisin­g fast.

History there is aplenty: the old Town is a medley of alleys contained within a medieval wall. When oil first became big around 1900, baku boomed, throwing out boulevards and erecting theatres as though it were Paris. Now it’s boomed again — and how. its model is dubai.

oil still drives the Azerbaijan­i economy, so some of the heat has come off in recent years. but there’s still plenty of money sloshing around.

Waving over the city from a steeply climbing hill are the Flame Towers, three sleek high-rise blocks that undulate like the oldfashion­ed symbol for british Gas.

This is the land of Fire. supposedly, it’s where the Titan Prometheus was chained after having disgraced his status as an immortal by giving fire to humanity.

At Yanar dag, north of baku, a hillside is permanentl­y on fire due to the seepage of natural gas. The spontaneou­s appearance of flames attracted fire-worshippin­g Zoroastria­ns for centuries and they built a temple at Ateshgah. Perhaps, to some purists, the Flame Towers are a tiny bit inyour-face, ever so slightly bling. For my money, they’re so oTT that they somehow come out the other side. They’re splendid.

so is the Carpet Museum (is it meant to look like a swiss roll?) Carpets are highly prized in this largely Muslim land where, in the remote mountains, some families still live a nomadic existence.

Not sure, architectu­rally or otherwise, about the swooping Heydar Aliyev Cultural Centre but then one gets rather a lot of Heydar Aliyev here. He was the Azerbaijan President from 1993-2003. Guess who’s the present one? His son.

Photograph the Flame Towers at dawn, when their curving flanks are modelled by the rosy light. At night, like the rest of baku, the Flame Towers are transforme­d into a spectacula­r light show. everything flickers, dances. The otherwise boring football stadium looks fabulous. Nowhere does night-time quite like baku.

even the petrol stations are glamorous. but that’s baku, where of course shops include bulgari, Tom Ford, swarovski crystal, lamborghin­i.

MuCH of this developmen­t has happened in the past five years. remember the eurovision song Contest? Possibly not, but Azerbaijan, the host country in 2012, does.

it pointed baku towards the future, kicking off a splurge of developmen­t which is bewilderin­g natives, who remember the featureles­s landscape before the buildings came.

For the traveller, it’s brought a crop of internatio­nal luxury hotel brands. i can’t, however, claim to have experience­d them myself.

Coming here to research a novel, i asked the excellent imaginativ­e Traveller to find a modest guest-house — little realising how literally they would take me at my word.

The modesty comprised a room with the quirk of an internal window opening into the room next door. The window was high up in the wall, but, when opened, it allowed the least sound from one room to penetrate into the other.

oh, it was good for my soul — and clean. everything in baku is. in the morning, elderly women are out with their brooms made from twigs, sweeping up every last autumn leaf — of which, since the old To w n is ringed with parks, there are quite a number. The old Town itself is spotless: almost too much so for lovers of charm and character. The architectu­re has been over-restored.

What hasn’t changed is the robustly flavoured, lovingly served food.

i steered clear of internatio­nal cuisine and missed nothing. dishes are of the kind that should be eaten on chairs spread with sheepskin — much mutton, accompanie­d by what would elsewhere be considered Mediterran­ean vegetables, stewed until about to decompose into flavourful ratatouill­e.

soups are good, baklava irresistib­le. Honey, served for breakfast, is the best you’ll ever find. bread is apparently held to be sacred.

baku may be on the verge of being blinged out, but it’s got some of its priorities right.

 ??  ?? Oil to tourism: Baku’s Flame Towers dominate the city, and a woman bakes bread, considered a sacred food
Oil to tourism: Baku’s Flame Towers dominate the city, and a woman bakes bread, considered a sacred food
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