From Sacred Fires to Snowy Heights

Baku, you see, is a city of juxtapositions, and we are on the tips of many tongues for good reason: An intersection of flame and sea and sky, each one seared squalidly beautiful; each one made to look gruffly abject. And between its ancient walled city and the fluorescently modernist curtained glow of Flame Towers, everything everywhere at any moment can seem possible. Wander among the sinuous lines of Heydar Aliyev’s architecture, follow whispering trails of ancient faith to the Ateshgah Fire Temple and cast your gaze as sunsets slip below the Caspian on Baku Boulevard. The rhythm that Shahdag’s snow and silence create in the mountains is another. When you return, absent of authority to use force, it will be because you saw a city on fire and learnt what burns hotter than gas: its soul.