Where Even Smugglers Don’t Go: Our Day Trip to Khinaliq in the Mountains of Azerbaijan
Last Updated on May 8, 2024 by Adam Watts
“Even the smugglers don’t come here,” were the comforting words of the guide on our day trip to Khinaliq, one of the most remote villages in the Caucasus. “Hopefully we can get back okay…”
It was winter. Azerbaijan. And for some reason we decided to abandon the cozy, deserted Baku old-town coffee shops and head to the mountains, where even Azerbaijanis can’t speak the local language.
Khinaliq is one of the most remote and isolated villages in Azerbaijan. (It’s also variously spelled Xinaliq, Khinalug, Khynalyg, Khinalyg, or Xınalıq.)
Most tourists visit in the summer. We are not most tourists.
Khinaliq Day Trip from Baku, Azerbaijan
Visiting from Singapore, we were excited to be cold and remote (or at least I was). Who needs reasonable temperatures, stable roads, and cell phone signal when you can have howling winds, treacherous icy paths, and a non-zero chance of death? And so we booked a day trip from Baku. We booked from a local tour company in the Old City who were grateful to have tourists, but you can also book through companies like Viator:
We weren’t the only tourists. Not quite. With us on the tour were a couple visiting from the United Arab Emirates (although originally from Singapore, which was fun!).
The four of us sat awkwardly facing each other in the back of a 4×4 as we headed out of Baku on the long drive far away from the safety of traffic lights and road markings.
Barely out of the city the car started rocking violently as we drove.
“Very windy today,” the guide said like it was totally normal to be swaying side to side while hurtling down the highway.
Thankfully we soon stopped. Our first scenic spot of the day, at Five Finger Mountain.
We parked at a layby off the highway and tried to open the door. Every time we opened it, it slammed closed due to the force of the howling gales outside.
With more force we got it open and we stood on the gravel facing the mound that looked vaguely like a five-fingered hand if you squinted.
I… guess it does?
The guide was explaining the legend behind the unusual rock formation but each syllable was swallowed by the wind.
We took the requisite selfies, half-laughing, half-grimacing as we tried to stay standing.
More than just the physical difficulty of staying upright, the wind also knocked at least 10 degrees off the balmy 5C (41F) air temperature.
It wasn’t quite arctic, but we’d been living in Singapore for four years, where the coldest I’ve ever been is inside a movie theater when I’ve forgotten my hoodie.
And it was only going to get colder the more mountainous we got.
An hour later we got to our second scenic spot: a sparse, barren woods area that featured forlorn gazebos and ice-covered benches.
“It’s better in the summer,” the guide said helplessly. “That’s when people choose to come here…”
We walked around a little, taking a few pictures, wondering what it would be like in the summer with families having picnics and playing games, instead of like being on the set of a Scandinavian crime drama.
For lunch, we were ushered into a windowless room with featureless furniture, with a plastic tablecloth really adding to the charm.
Lunch itself was lentil soup, lamb kebab, apples, and cheese, washed down with pear soda, all of which was delicious. (Although I’ll admit the apples were too mushy for my spoiled, supermarket-perfect tastes.)
After lunch, we headed fully into the mountains, with miles and miles of views like the one below; we’d stop periodically at the most opportune photo spots to admire the landscape (surely these are some of the best views in Azerbaijan), stretch our legs, and take a breather from worrying about the car slipping down the cliff at every corner.
But we had a long way to go. Plenty more corners and narrow tracks around which our driver would do his best to avoid killing us all. Up and up we continued to go.
Reaching Khinaliq
After ever more winding uphill roads, eventually we made it to Khinaliq, the highest and most remote village in Azerbaijan, and among the highest in all of the Caucasus region.
Khinaliq has a population of about 2,000 people, although how it’s even that many I don’t know. This is basically the whole place:
The car could only get so close. “It’s too icy,” the guide said, “We’ll have to walk the last bit.”
Step by agonizing step we picked our way precipitously across the frozen ground into the village itself.
People in Khinalug speak their own eponymous language, which is extremely different from the Azerbaijani language, as our guide was happy to keep pointing out. “I have no idea what they’re saying!” Most locals do also speak Azerbaijani too, however.
For tourists visiting Khinalug there’s a small museum showcasing things used in the village, including tools used in a unique, local weaving process, as well as some local manuscripts:
Needless to say we were the only tourists around that day. Probably the whole month.
The village has what I’ll generously call a supermarket, which we stopped in to escape the cold for a moment.
I didn’t try to see how mushy the apples were, but I suspect they don’t get lorry loads of fresh produce every day.
Before we left, there was time to enjoy one last view.
“Do you see over there, in the distance?” our guide asked. “That’s the Russian border. You see their barracks on the hill? In the summer smugglers come this way to get into or out of Russia, so the military is there to stop them. But in the winter even the smugglers don’t come here.”
It felt like he was accusing us of making a mistake by doing this trip to Khinaliq in winter. Sure, the forest was perhaps less interesting than it might have been in August; yes, the weather would have been better and our risk of death would have been lower; and probably in the summer even the apples are crisper.
But Khinaliq in December was so bleak, so hard to reach, so treacherous, and oh so beautiful. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
If you’re interested in a day trip to Khinaliq or other day trips from Baku, check out Viator tours below.
