Lahic is an old little village, tucked beyond winding roads and rocky mountain passes. I have no doubt that it would be nearly impossible – if not lethal – to try and make this journey in bad weather. We got lucky because it was sunny, and the temperature was just right.
After a cramped ride in a small melon-filled vehicle from a Lahic villager, we arrived in a very medieval looking town. Narrow cobblestone streets, flanked by mid-sized buildings with wooden doors and balconies and dark iron work. Doors open to shops filled with handmade crafts, and even a few guys more than happy to let you try on some “Azeri cultural clothing” and take a picture (for at least a manat, of course…).
We stayed at a guesthouse near the mosque, run by a fantastic gentleman named Ibrahim. He showed us to a quaint room with a lovely balcony, and offered us whatever we needed. We spent the afternoon walking the city, talking on the balcony, and then had dinner. He was kind enough to let us buy our own food and use the kitchen to cook, and the whole time he was standing over me, making sure I prepared everything right. He insisted on checking to see if the potatoes were properly fried, and warned me about the “microbes” on tomatoes if I didn’t wash them. Before heading to bed, he assured us if there was anything else we needed, he’d be more than happy to provide it.The next morning we made breakfast, and met Ibrahim’s friend Iktiyar, who continued to try and persuade Matt to do shots of vodka with him. (It was 10am). He asked Matt for permission to offer me a shot (they thought we were married, if you’re going to offer anything to a woman, you must ask her husband…so…). Naturally I cut in, and for once, the antibiotics proved to be a good excuse. (Though of course this turned into a discussion about the benefits of natural medicine, and Ibrahim assured me that he could cure me in one week with his herbal tea, where it takes my Western Antibiotics two weeks…).
After breakfast we hiked up the river to a waterfall, which, honestly, was less than impressive. So we hiked to above the waterfall and hung out there for a while. Back to the guesthouse for lunch, and then, as Ibrahim had promised, he arranged for us to go horseback riding.
There was some confusion at first, because Ibrahim assumed we knew how to ride, and was just going to give us a couple of horses. Since this was not the case (I haven’t been on a horse since girl scout camp), Ibrahim’s idea of arranging a guided tour was to convince two local boys, who seemed to have nothing better to do, to humor us by letting us ride their horses around. So our two guides, Seymour (think Adrian Grenier type), and Kid with a Cowboy Hat (he had some ‘tude…loved him) took us to ride their horses Qafqaz (Azeri for Caucasus) and Demir (Azeri for Iron) up into the mountains.
It was so much fun. They didn’t give up the reigns so much at first, just leading us up and letting us look. The view of the mountains was beautiful, and you could see villages that go even past Lahic. We went up to an apple orchard and took a rest there, and then Matt and I switched horses for the ride home.This is where the crazy began. At this point, Seymour and Kid with a Cowboy Hat seemed to think we were pros, and they just let us go. Which was great, until both of our horses took off at full gallop, and I wasn’t really sure how to stop Qafqaz. Fortunately, I knew to stand up when the horse is running, (though I still think I bruised my tailbone a bit), and he seemed to eventually understand my request to stop. I was a little scared for my life there…just a bit…
After the ride we had dinner, and the next day, when the Peace Corps salary ran out, it was time to go home. Being outside, being active, being relaxed, was really just what I needed. I headed out sad it was over, but re-energized as well…I knew the next few weeks were only going to get hectic once again…
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