Baku is a city of wind. The name is often said to come from a Persian phrase meaning a place battered by winds, and anybody who has stood on the Caspian boulevard on a bad day will believe it. The city curves around a bay on the western shore of the sea, with a medieval walled core, Icherisheher, rising behind the seafront, and the modern glass of the Flame Towers high above, lit by moving flames in the evening that can be seen from far across the water.
The old city is the place to start. Its narrow stone lanes hold the Shirvanshahs' Palace, a fifteenth-century complex of pale limestone, and the Maiden Tower, a stout round tower of unclear origin and many legends. The oil story is the other great layer. At the end of the nineteenth century this was one of the main oil-producing places in the world, and the Nobel brothers of Sweden built a fortune here. The grand mansions in the centre were built by oil barons of that age, and today's skyline is the product of a second oil boom. Outside the city, on the Absheron peninsula, you find the Fire Temple at Surakhani, built where natural gas once burned from the ground, and the strange mud volcanoes of Gobustan to the south, which bubble and gurgle.
For riders, Baku itself is a test of nerve. Traffic is fast and dense, lane discipline is a loose idea, and the cheerful honk is the universal language. Once you clear the outer districts, the open roads of the Absheron and the highway west toward Shamakhi and the Caucasus are easier. The ride to Khinalig takes several hours, starting with a long motorway section and finishing on mountain roads that need care. Weather is hot in summer, mild in spring and autumn, and winter brings cold winds off the sea.
Fuel is plentiful and cheap, with stations on every main road, and the city has a good café culture where you can order strong tea in a glass with sugar cubes and jam. The best season is spring and early autumn. The Caspian is brackish, shallow and not especially inviting for swimming near the city, but the sunsets are fine, the promenade is busy in the evenings, and the sound of the wind never really stops.