Azerbaijan Travel Quotes

Firstly, the Azerbaijanian struggle for a measure of autonomy and self-government is genuine and is locally inspired. The facts of history and existing conditions show that Azerbaijan has always been struggling to overthrow the feudal conditions imposed upon it (and upon the rest of Iran) by corrupt Iranian Governments. Secondly, the extent of Russian interference appeared to be negligible. In our travels we saw few Russian troops, and in Kurdistan we saw none at all. The leaders of the Azerbaijanian Government are not Russians but Azerbaijanians, and with few exceptions their sole aim seems to be the recovery and improvement and economic reform of Azerbaijan. There may be some Russian influence by indirect means, but I would suggest that it is less than our own influence in Iran which we exercise by direct control of ministers, political parties, state financiers, and by petty bribery. As for Kurdish Independence. The Kurds ask for an independence of their own making, not an independence sponsored by the British Government. Like the Azerbaijanians the Kurds are seeking real autonomy, and more than that, self-determination. Our present scheme to take them over and use them as a balancing factor in the political affairs of the Middle East is a reflection upon the honest of our intentions, and a direct blow at the spirit of all good men.

Street

In this collection of essays, you will meet more people like Zakia - golden-hearted souls who come from places like Azerbaijan, Bhutan, Canada, Cuba, The Czech Republic, France, Germany, India, Indonesia, Ireland, Japan, Jordan, Mexico, Nepal, Spain, and Tanzania. People who become the heroes of our stories because they show the way or deliver joy, care for us when we're vulnerable, help us navigate meaning, or propel us when we're stuck. They are custodians of travel; they keep us believing in its magic.

Springtime in Turkey and the South Caucasus is idealized for good reason. Valleys are carpeted with wildflowers and the land is one of bewildering variety. Apricot trees start frothing white blossoms, soft green buds begin appearing on willow branches and the quince orchards turn pink with flowers. And as soon as herbs come to life, imbued with the spirit of the green blooming hillsides, they are greeted and rallied to the table. Dill and parsley fill freshly griddled flatbreads--- qutabs in Azerbaijan, jingalov hats in Armenia, gözleme in Turkey--- often elevated by little more than a generous brushing of first-rate butter. In Georgia, coriander soup, thickened with potato, is served with dark rye bread. In Turkey, fresh mint is mixed freely with cucumbers, yoghurt and water, or with pureed broad beans. In Turkish, I am told, there is even a verb used for chopping herbs, kıymak.

Kitchens have their seasons. And in this subterranean world, hidden from rainstorms and eager winds, is a world of wheat, wine and herbs. Always herbs. Herbs with balm in their leaves and flavor in their throats. A harvest of herbs on the windowsill. Parsley, coriander, tarragon. Basil, of different varieties, Greek with its anise-clove flavor and 'Sweet Genovese' with its jumbo cinnamon leaves. By the stove, I am chopping mint, coriander, tarragon, basil and parsley. The leaves and stems will go into a soup inspired by a region that taught me just what can be done with herbs, the South Caucasus--- that is Armenia, Azerbaijan and Georgia. From springtime until winter, whole bouquets of herbs arrive ceremoniously to the table, sometimes so fresh that clumps of earth still cling to their pale whiskery roots. Vital as bread, drawing eyes and senses forward, they are the centerpiece of the table. Intensely fresh and fragrant, unbruised and unwilted, they are a meal, a feast. Vitamins after a long winter. Never an afterthought, a mere sprinkling, or worse, 'a pinch'. At breakfast, oozing omelettes filled with molten white cheese and blades of tarragon. At lunch, bulgur salad, always more leaf than wheat. Ice cream is mint, sorbet is basil, soda is tarragon. In warmer months, they are refreshing, health-giving and sanity-saving as the sun starts hammering down. So today, in this kitchen of a hundred crossroads, to welcome the beginning of spring, I will bless this soup with a crop of fresh herbs.