May 17th,
2010 - When someone tells you there is an ancient graveyard perched
atop a hill overlooking the valley around Zaqatala you give yourself
a pat on the ass and get cracking. I was given directions but, like
always, I missed the mark and bypassed the trail head. That's just
what I do. Luckily, I could see the hill leading to my destination so
I only needed to cut across a river, through someone's backyard, and
up the steepest part of the hill I could find. Yeah, baby.
That's just
what I do. It might have been disagreeable if the forest were not so
enchantingly alluring. The forests of northwest Azerbaijan feel a
little like the stomping ground of Robin Hood though I did not see
any merry roaming about (just a guy I presume to be a hunter carrying
a shotgun with a peculiar look on his face. Not unsettling at all).
It is the kind of place where elfin villages would not be out of
place and where you should watch your step so as not to pulverize a
smurf. Yeah, you could say the forests are a peaceful place.
