A Paris in Azerbaijan

You should never judge a place by the area surrounding its airport — but by any standards, the drive into Baku is not a pretty one. Oil derricks, rubble and smoke abound — it sometimes seemed as if I was heading towards a nightmarish experience. Once in the Azerbaijan capital, however, things changed and I was soon gliding down Parisian-style boulevards until we reached the shores of the Caspian Sea.

Interesting history

Whenever I hear the words "Caspian Sea", I think of only one thing — caviar. I have a terrible weakness for the stuff and this was probably enough in itself to get me to Azerbaijan. But just in case I was undecided, a local billionaire invited me to fly to Baku, aboard a private jet.

I was rather excited to visit Baku, which has an interesting history. In the late 19th century, it was a serious boomtown and a huge international community was based there. Opulent villas were built along the seafront, earning Baku the nickname "Little Paris". During the Russian Revolution, Azerbaijan became a part of the Soviet Union.

Now it is keen to welcome visitors back. The old walled city, a World Heritage site, is being restored and I read on the internet that "Baku is one of the world's Top Ten party cities for having the ultimate experience".

The Maiden Tower is the main historical site in Baku but nobody seemed sure how old it was. It was actually pretty dull but, apparently, Baku had a lot more to tempt me with. This is where the world's second fireplace was discovered.

I wandered through cobbled alleyways. Occasionally, I would spot a wooden balcony protruding from the stonework — these looked so comfortable, a place to sit and contemplate.

I'm always on the lookout for quirkier tourist experiences and there can be few odder than the Baku Miniature Book Museum. There must have been about 5,000 books on show. Rather worryingly, an Azerbaijani book on human rights was particularly tiny. An old lady explained that she had once seen some tiny books in a Moscow shop and was instantly smitten.

Having sated my desire for tiny books, I wandered along more cobbled streets until I reached a thick stone gate. I ducked inside and entered a beautiful courtyard, containing an ornate fountain.

Around the courtyard were openings leading into high-vaulted rooms. This was a caravanserai. Baku was on the Silk Road and this was a place where caravans would stop. It was one of the most evocative buildings.

Creating a scene

Parties, as it turns out, are something Azerbaijan does very well. People certainly weren't holding back at the launch of Chinar nightclub. Chefs from London restaurant Hakkasan provided the posh nosh while a couple of top international DJs were suitably annoying.

I left the club fairly early, determined to take a long walk down to the windy promenade, along the shore of the Caspian Sea. Fashionably, late guests were still arriving at the club and the paparazzi hung about outside, taking photographs.

I noticed something a bit odd about them, so I took a closer look. I realised that they weren't using flashbulbs on their cameras. I got even closer and saw that they were using antique cameras — without any film in them. I chatted with one of the "photographers". It turned out that the group had been paid by the organisers to stand around and create a "scene".

The people of Baku might not have to wait too long for the real thing.