This morning was mostly taken up with map hunting. Getting hold of topographical maps of Azerbaijan is impossible. We tried the various book shops mentioned in Elliot's book and the Lonely Planet, but none of them would bear fruit. In the 'Kitab' on Istiqlaliyat Kuc, we were well entertained by two earnest store assistants who proudly presented us with tourist maps of Baku, Quba and a motoring atlas of Azerbaijan. The presentation ended with the two of them unfolding a muticoloured map of all the best Azeri monuments. They stood together beaming and waiting in anticipation for us to make a purchase. We didn't, but thanked them kindly and left. It was in the shop at 1 Fikrat Amirov that we bought a sort of route map of the country, then finally we opted for a download of some circa 1942 1:100000 projections from the Berkely university archives. We took prints of the Xınalıq - Laza mountain region from an internet café. That is as good as we are gonna get.
Matt had a snooze in the hotel whilst I went out for some supplies. I ended up sat on the square close to Sahil metro, watching the world go by. Some kids came and joined me - one with a bow and arrow. We chatted using the ten or so words of their English vocabulary before I went back to wake up Matt and engage my brain with our next puzzle. We had to figure out a route to Quba for tomorrow. This was entirely a reconnaissance mission - first back to the metro station, where we were bag-searched for the second time in the day, then to navigate the labyrinthine tunnels and platforms of the underground. At the 28th January Station we boarded a marshrutka to the 'Yeni Vagzal'. We were not prepared for the architectural monstrosity that awaited - it seems the Azeri government have decided to invest their recently recovered oil wealth into mindless projects such as the new bus station. It is a multi-floored spaceship packed with shops, with stairs and elevators up to the 5th floor, which is where the buses actually do their thing. The station has ranks of kiosks for ticket booking and multiple waiting rooms. We cruised around and figured out the time and location of tomorrow's bus to Quba. A friendly old lady informed us that the counter no. 10 would open at 7am for tickets. With information in hand, we were able to randomly select a marshrut back to 28 January, then tube back to 20th May Station to chill out for the rest of the day.
We spent the evening hanging out on the waterfront promenade watching the masses of locals venture out in their coolest gear, marching up and down with family and friends. We sat and drank tea along with an obligatory dish of jam (weird the whole jam thing), and watched people come and go until after sundown, when we made back to our beds for sleep.