Azerbaijan broke me. Let me explain,

I left my hotel in Zaqatala early in the morning. The night before, they conveniently didn’t have change when I paid for the room and the next morning “forgot” I was owed anything when I pressed the issue. I wasn’t going to get in a fight over $6 but it made another bad impression of Azerbaijan. I try not to extrapolate my few interactions in a place and apply it to an entire country but honestly, getting scammed was typical for most of my time here. This was a shame, because it meant I always had my guard up, even when buying food and water.

Talking with some folks there, it seemed like the perception of foreigners is that they’re wealthy and can afford to be scammed. I’m used to paying the “tourist price” when haggling and don’t mind that I won’t get as cheap a deal as the locals. But getting shortchanged constantly drove me up the wall. It was also routine for locals to come up and just start asking how much money I make or how much I paid for my bicycle which I obviously avoided sharing.

I kept riding to Sheki, then Gebele. Sheki was probably my favorite town in Azerbaijan. They make a lot of sweets there called “halva” (essentially a variant of baklava), and after stopping for tea with one of the many roadside stands selling it, I negotiated for a box of walnut halva for only a couple bucks. Everyone else on the road wanted $20…

I grabbed some dinner in town. The food isn’t as cheap as Georgia and the selection is much worse. Without the Orthodox influence of its neighbor, gone were the variety of vegetables and back were the countless shish kebabs. I’d really grown tired of the greasy meat back in Turkey and longed for something green in my diet. The markets in the smaller towns didn’t have any produce but I stocked up on fruit whenever I found a supermarket.

After reaching Gebele, I checked into my guesthouse. Or at least, I tried to…

I couldn’t find my passport. I searched forever but it definitely wasn’t anywhere in my bike bags. Then I remembered… the front desk of the hostel needed to hold onto it and I’d forgotten to ever ask for it back. No worries, I looked up their number to call them and they couldn’t find it.

Worry, big worries. They passed the phone around to a number of workers, each of whom spoke less English. I started to panic; did someone swipe my passport? Was I stuck in Azerbaijan? Thankfully, no. After about 10 minutes, someone recalled throwing it in a random drawer – PHEW.

After calming down from my series of heart attacks, we arranged a pickup and I got it back the next day without issue. I blame my poor memory on the lack of vegetables.

Gebele itself was a town backed up into hills and had a cable car up into the mountains that I didn’t try. I (again) was shortchanged by the hotel clerk. After calling him out, he insisted it was just an honest mistake but when I asked for the correct amount he (again conveniently) didn’t have enough change on him. He said he just needed to run down to the market for it, and would return the money soon. I hounded the guy every time I saw him and the story got more elaborate each time. Around 10pm, I pressed the issue and he returned with some of my change and asked if that was good enough. I was ticked off. I just wanted to enjoy the hotel room I paid for instead of wasting time chasing down another scammer.

I looked up the owner’s phone number on booking.com and shot him a message on WhatsApp to “remind” his worker to return my change. About 30 seconds later, the clerk knocked on my door and my change miraculously appeared. The clerk (who I assume got reamed out over the phone by the owner), then kept trying to offer me tea (at 11pm) as an amends. I had to tell him to screw off twice before he let me get some sleep.

The next morning as I was saddling up my bike to leave, the scammer clerk asked if I wanted breakfast. I declined but he insisted. I declined again but curious now, I asked him how much breakfast was. He said it was $5, which is exorbitant, so I said no again. He then offered “$3”. Then he said “free”.

My ears perked up. Nothing is ever “free” and at this point, I needed to know what scheme was in store. It was a normal Azerbaijani breakfast (an egg, some bread, and cucumber) at a small restaurant across the street from the hotel. At least, everything seemed normal. As I got up to leave, the scammer clerk ushered me back into my seat and joined me at the table. He then proceed to hand me a phone logged into booking.com and it all made sense.

Because I had gotten a free breakfast, he told me I needed to write the hotel a good review. He said a good review from an American would really help them. I think I embarrassed the guy, because I laughed pretty hard. It was bizarre to see such flagrant coercion and I declined the “offer”. I thanked the scammer clerk for breakfast and biked off.

No sooner did I leave before starting to feel funny. About midday, I started to feel weak. Like, really weak. And I ended that days ride early in the next town. I suddenly felt incredibly nauseous and found a guesthouse to hunker down in while I barfed my brains out all night. I stayed an extra day hoping it would pass, but it only got worse. Being totally unfit to bicycle the last 100 miles to the capital Baku, and with there being no doctors in town, I arranged a taxi to take me.

The taxi ended up being an old sedan without A/C. It was also something of a rideshare, as the driver kept stopping to pick up folks for smaller fares along the way. It took everything I had not to ruin the interior of his car. Ultimately, it was only $15 to go 100 miles so I can’t complain. Tips aren’t normal for taxis in Azerbaijan, but I offered the guy a $5 tip anyways just because I was so thankful to be in the city. He then said he wanted a $10 tip, and I remembered why I dislike Azerbaijan.

I had booked a hotel the night before and proceeded to hole up inside for about 4 days. I couldn’t keep down any food and didn’t eat during that time. My symptoms were spot-on for Giardia and recalling the timeline of what I ate, it was probably the cucumbers from my “free” breakfast that did me in.

With my situation not improving, both Kat (over the phone) and the hotel workers insisted I see a doctor to seek some antibiotics. The owner of the hotel studied abroad in Boston in his youth and was a super nice guy. He explained that medical care was free and when I offered to walk to the hospital, called for an ambulance instead. The ambulance then delivered me (and the hotel owner who joined me to translate) to the hospital one block away.

My experience with the Azerbaijani health system was not a positive one. To summarize it:

Hospital 1 (Public):

• Given treatment which further dehydrated me
• Asked for bribes for incorrect treatment
• Told I need to stay overnight at the hospital (likely to try for more bribes)
• Angered the doctor when I asked them about their diagnosis
• Told I needed to get a shot of mystery fluid (I further angered the doctor when I asked what was in it)

At that point, I told them I was leaving as it was clear they had no idea how to prescribe antibiotics. The hotel owner later informed me that they weren’t going to let me leave until I paid the bribes. He avoided this by telling them I was “a YouTuber” and would make a bad video about them which the government would see. He told me this works great when dealing with any government employee in Azerbaijan.

Hospital 2 (Private):

• All the doctors were on vacation
• Called me a cab and sent me to a different hospital 30 minutes away
• No bribes

Hospital 3 (Private):

• A nice young nurse helped me translate with the doctor
• Doctor insisted I had “heart problem” and “bad diet” and to come back tomorrow for an EKG
• I said sure as long as they’d give me some freaking antibiotics
• Paid $25
• Taxi tried to scam me on the ride back to the hotel
• I did not come back for the EKG

Over the next few days, I started to improve and started eating again. In total, I was bedridden for a little over a week. Feeling better, I spent my last two days in Baku checking out the old city and finally reached the Caspian Sea.