Baku is known as the city of wind and our stay there gave us a taster of exactly why it has attracted the name. A huge storm rolled in a few hours after we had arrived, and continued for two days straight. Winds of up to 100km per hour, sideways rain, with thunder and lightning that rattled the roof of the ramshackled hostel we were staying in. Luckily for us, we managed a brief wander around the city before the worst of it kicked in. We struggled to stay upright with the crazy gusts of wind that whipped across the Caspian Sea and battered the city as we walked along the fancy, immaculate, sea front promenade.

We took some time to appreciate the modern architecture and how it contrasted so much with the ancient stone work and cobbled streets of the old town (We were mainly just amazed it was all still standing in the wind). The thing that really sticks with me about Baku – well about all of Azerbaijan really – is how it truly is a land of contrasts. The old town and the new architecture, the oil funded luxury of Baku and the mud roads of rural villages, the grey desert landscapes one minute and the lush green forests and fields the next.

Our time in the country was short and sweet, we mainly left Baku and made a beeline straight to the most northerly border crossing with Georgia. Not the most interesting ride, but we enjoyed our time there nonetheless. It was simple. Straightforward. Its a county that, to us, felt European, Asian and Middle Eastern all mixed together. The European influence meant we enjoyed plain sailing on smooth roads, as well as recognising brand names and products we haven’t seen in months and months, a real novelty, making us feel as though we are actually getting a little closer to home. The Asian influence meant that we enjoyed lots of warmth, kindness and hospitality. Stopping at a cafe often meant being given the food or drink for free, or being given a bed for the night to shelter from the winds. The Middle Eastern influence was clear to see in the piping hot and irresistible flatbreads, the mosques and of course the chai culture (our favourite part!).

We enjoyed many, many cups of tea, some of the best tea of the whole trip so far – delicious black teas and green teas all given an extra hit with a spice or two – prepared with serious precision, poured and presented with ceremony in small tea glasses and  served with the option of lemon or lashings of sugar. This mixture of East meets West, the edge of continents, the melting pot of cultures, the tolerance of religions living side by side – It makes it a unique place.

But we also couldn’t help but notice…..It was a man’s world. The further we cycled out of Baku the more we noticed the lack of women. The roads were full of cars (driven by men) the streets were full of people running errands (men), the shops, bakeries, cafes and businesses (all fronted by men), the tea shops (full of male tea drinkers), the games of Nard or Backgammon (all played by men with crowds of male spectators). And once we had noticed it, we couldn’t un-see it. The lack of women became so apparent that we would point it out to one another if we did see a female face amongst the crowds. We knew they were there, but they just weren’t seen out and about. We saw them up to their elbows in dough at the back of the bakeries, we saw them laughing and dancing in their own kitchen disco as we cycled passed the restaurant windows, we saw glimpses of them herding animals down the backstreets, but we rarely saw them out and about.

We were even hosted by a family who kindly let us stay with them to shelter from the wind, we were fed the most delicious vegetarian meal and breakfast, and yet we never once met the females of the family. I momentarily saw the young daughters on my way to use the outhouse, but after returning my wave and ‘hello’ they shyly retreated back into the house. It felt so strange for me to not see and thank the women who had prepared all the delicious food for us, let alone involve them in our conversations, to learn how to cook the dishes they had presented for us and to gain an insight into their experiences of life in Azerbaijan. I could hear the ladies chatter and laughter from the next room, but I couldn’t be part of it, I was a guest. It felt like they were part of a secret society, a fun club and in-crowd that we weren’t permitted to be part of. I realise that we were both honoured by being guests and we were treated with great kindness, served like we were royalty and it is truly a gift, but cultural differences like this always take a little time to try and adjust to, and this was a new one for us. The men we met were all very friendly and respectful, but it just felt so strange to only have half of the population ‘seen’ out and about.

By this stage of the trip we are used to getting some funny looks, I appreciate that to some people we look like we have arrived from outer space when we roll into their village on our bicycles, but it did make me wonder whether here I seemed even more of an outlander because I am a woman on a bicycle. Am I less of a woman in their eyes because I am riding a bike? I wonder if it would be socially acceptable for a local woman to jump on a bicycle if she wanted to? Is it something they would want to do, or maybe they just have different interests? Or would they have to move to the more cosmopolitan Baku before they were able to entertain the idea of riding a bicycle? Coming from the UK, where it is culturally so different, it feels so strange to be thinking through these things, asking myself these questions, especially in the year 2025, not 1925! But that’s the beauty of travel, it makes you walk (or in my case, cycle) in the footsteps of a stranger.

It only took us a few days to cross Azerbaijan and reach the border with Georgia, so for all my curiosity and wondering, I never did manage to have the chance to meet the women, to ask them these questions, to find out for myself. And so for me, in my memories, from our experiences of the country, Azerbaijan will remain a man’s world.