Next he backtracks to Azerbaijan's fourth largest city, Mingacevir. This is actually a new city, created in the 1940s, due to a nearby dam and hydroelectric plant. But despite it being an almost entire Soviet era city, it's actually quite beautiful and well planned. The boulevards are lined with tall, shady trees converging on cheerful parks/traffic circles--not to mention a huge river next to the city.

What Mingacevir doesn't seem to have are hotels (other than a very pricey resortlike complex) . But he's determined he will find one. And he just start walking around asking people that he meets. Several people point him in a certain direction and he goes to where the hotel should be... but no, nothing. He goes into a little store.

"Upstairs" the shopkeeper gestures. Sure enough. It seems that the cheap hotels here in Azerbaijan are completely unmarked (to avoid taxes, perhaps?) The only way to find them is by world of mouth. Also, they are shared rooms in what is really just a private house.

Luckily his roommate is a respectable businessman, and they hit it off right away. They head off to get some supper of grilled meat together and swap travel stories. It seems that it's been forever since he last talked to someone in English.

Next Morning

Next morning he knows he has to head up to check out this dam and reservoir. It's not too long of a walk, and is a nice change of scenery... this large lake surrounded by barren, rocky hills. A group of young fellows that look like off duty soldiers approach me offer to be in his videoclip--happy for a break from their routine. He cranks out some of his livelier tunes as some of them dance and really get into it--and then they invite him to join them for tea.

As usual, no one speaks English, but we do manage to communicate little.

"Karabakh" they tell him, pointing to one of the soldiers with sad eyes. Apparently he's a refugee from the Karabakh region, now taken over by Armenia.

He heads back to town, grab a rather greasy bowl of borsh and continue on his way.