Baku

Baku rests on the southern shore of the Absheron Peninsula, where the Caspian Sea laps against avenues wide enough to carry both ancient memories and modern ambition. The city sits twenty-eight metres below sea level—the lowest national capital in the world—yet it rises in spirit far above its topographical depth. A population that exceeded two million in 2009 clusters along the bay, drawn by commerce, culture and the sharp winds that have earned the city the sobriquet “City of Winds.”

From the walled maze of Icheri Sheher—the Old City—one glimpses layers of Baku’s heritage. At its heart stands the Maiden Tower, its cylindrical form hinting at medieval defence and earlier lore. Nearby, the Palace of the Shirvanshahs asserts the legacy of a dynasty that ruled these shores for centuries. In 2000, UNESCO recognized this enclave as World Heritage, in part for its surviving ramparts and caravansaries, but also for the authenticity of its narrow lanes, where shadow and sunlight intermingle over centuries-worn stone.

Beyond the Old City’s gates, twelve administrative raions and forty-eight townships extend across the peninsula. Among them, Neft Daşlar—the oil settlement built on steel legs high above the water—stands sixty kilometres offshore. It emerged in the mid-20th century as a model of industrial audacity and remains active, a testament to the city’s centuries-long engagement with oil. On land, the Baku Archipelago’s islands house small communities and serve as reminders of the sea’s reach into the region’s economy.

Oil shaped Baku’s rise from a modest town of seven thousand in the early 19th century to a global centre by 1900. Hand-dug surface wells from the 15th century gave way, in 1872, to the first commercial rigs. By the turn of the century, the fields around Baku produced half the world’s oil, attracting engineers and labourers from across Europe and beyond. Between 1860 and 1913, the city’s population swelled from thirteen thousand to over two hundred thousand, bringing with it Russian, Armenian and Jewish communities that added musical, literary and architectural flourishes to the urban fabric.

Under Soviet rule, Baku served as both a summer retreat and an industrial hub. Its dry climate and long hours of sunshine made it a destination for those seeking respite on Caspian beaches or in spa complexes, even as its factories and refineries left a legacy of pollution. The city’s winds—khazri from the north and gilavar from the south—routinely reach gale force, stripping leaves from trees and sweeping across the bay with speeds recorded as high as 144 kilometres per hour.

Beneath Baku’s modern boulevards lie salt lakes and mud volcanoes. Lokbatan and others beyond the city limits bubble with viscous mud, while Boyukshor Lake stretches to the northwest. These features reflect the Absheron Peninsula’s aridity. Annual precipitation rarely surpasses 200 millimetres, a stark contrast to the lush western flanks of the Caucasus, where rainfall can exceed two thousand millimetres. Rain arrives mostly in seasons other than summer, yet no part of the year feels truly wet.

Summers in Baku are warm, with mean daily temperatures in July and August around 26 °C. The khazri often brings relief to the waterfront, where promenades curve along the bay. Winters remain cool, averaging 4.3 °C in January and February, yet polar air and the khazri can deepen the chill, and snow, though fleeting, flakes over the city’s modern skyline.

Economic activity centres on energy, finance and trade. Approximately 65 percent of Azerbaijan’s GDP flows through Baku. The Baku International Sea Trade Port handles millions of tonnes of cargo annually, linking sea, rail and road routes across the Trans-Caspian corridor. The Baku Stock Exchange ranks highest in the Caucasus by market capitalisation, and multinational banks—HSBC, Société Générale, Credit Suisse—maintain branches alongside domestic institutions such as the International Bank of Azerbaijan.

Petroleum drove early growth; today, it underpins ongoing development. The Azeri-Chirag-Guneshli complex and the Shah Deniz gas field feed the Sangachal Terminal, while pipelines—including the Baku-Tbilisi-Erzurum and the Baku-Tbilisi-Ceyhan routes—transport hydrocarbons to Europe and beyond. The Southern Gas Corridor, operational since 2007, moves up to 25 billion cubic metres of gas annually, altering Europe’s energy map.

Yet Baku’s character extends beyond its oil economy. Cultural venues multiply in every district: the Heydar Aliyev Cultural Centre, designed by Zaha Hadid, curves across a plaza near the boulevard; the International Mugham Center hosts performances of the modal music that UNESCO has recognised as intangible heritage. Museums—national and modern art, history, carpets—display objects from ancient Zoroastrian relics to contemporary Azerbaijani canvases.

Religious architecture testifies to the city’s plural past. Shia Islam predominates, but mosques coexist with Orthodox churches, synagogues revived after Soviet nationalisation, and a Catholic Apostolic Prefecture. Nowruz, the ancient Persian New Year, remains central, even as hamams from the 12th to the 18th centuries—Teze Bey, Gum, Bairamali and Agha Mikayil—continue to serve as social hubs, their domed interiors restored for modern use.

Urban renewal reshapes Baku’s silhouette. Glass-clad towers—SOCAR, Flame Towers, the crystal-like Deniz Mall—rise alongside Soviet-era façades. The Inner City’s heritage has weathered earthquake damage and restoration missteps; removed from UNESCO’s danger list in 2009, it endures as the city’s anchor. Fountains Square pulses with cafés and nightlife, while clubs reflect both eastern traditions and western rhythms.

Green spaces thread through the city. Baku Boulevard offers promenaders sea views and musical fountains; Heydar Aliyev Park and Samad Vurgun Park provide shaded retreats; Martyrs’ Lane commemorates those lost in conflict. Tree-lined avenues herald the approach to Nizami Street and Neftchilar Avenue, where international boutiques sit alongside local shops.

Transport networks bind Baku. The metro, opened in 1967, carries ornate chandeliers and mosaics through three lines and twenty-five stations. Plans aim to add forty-one stations over two decades. BakuCard smart cards operate on metros and buses; a suburban railway and funicular link the coast to hillside suburbs. Road links along the M-1 and E60 connect the city to Europe and Central Asia. Ferry and catamaran services cross the bay to Turkmenbashi and Iran, while the funicular ascends steep slopes to show the city from above.

Demographic shifts have marked Baku’s story. In the late 20th century, Soviet policies expelled Armenian residents; other minorities—Talysh, Russians, Lezgi—remain smaller in number. Today, ethnic Azerbaijanis predominate. Migration patterns since the 19th century transformed a town of a few thousand into a metropolis of 2.3 million by 2020. Internally displaced persons and refugees have added to urban growth, reflecting regional conflicts.

Despite an expensive rank in global surveys, monthly expenses in Baku remain lower than in many major cities. Luxurious streets share space with modest neighbourhoods. Crescent Mall opened in May 2024, adding amenities to existing centres such as Ganjlik, Park Bulvar and Port Baku. Yet beneath the gloss, the city fuses tradition and innovation: carpet-weaving workshops operate near high-rise offices; ancient hamams stand within sight of sky-piercing towers.

International events highlight Baku’s evolving role. The city hosted Eurovision in 2012, the European Games in 2015 and motorsport grand prix since 2016. In 2021 and again in 2024, global gatherings drew delegates from diverse nations. Each occasion layered new architectural interventions onto Baku’s historic frame, from media centres on the seafront to bespoke venues in repurposed industrial zones.

Baku’s appeal arises from contrasts. A traveller guided by Ali and Nino’s narrative would note how the city’s austerity—dry air, stony streets—yields moments of warmth: in a mugham concert, in the hush of a mosque courtyard after prayer, in the waltz of lights on the boulevard’s water. The city’s grit emerges in its endurance through empires and ideologies; its grace appears in the polished stone of modern museums and the weathered walls of the Old City.

In Baku, Asia and Europe meet not as abstractions but in tangible form: the minarets and onion domes beside neoclassical façades; the Eastern bazaar near a Western-style shopping mall; the oil derricks offshore visible from a waterfront promenade where families stroll at dusk. Here, beneath a vault of shifting winds and skies, a city below sea level offers a world above it.