A love note from Azerbaijan

It’s been three and a half years since my children were able to see their extended family in Azerbaijan. Between Covid, travel restrictions and school timetable, it’s been difficult for us all to visit the family. So, we are finally here, lapping up all the love and attention that we can get.

I’m normally not big on sightseeing, but now that my children are a bit older, they’ll be visiting some of the landmarks in Baku.

So I wanted to share one of them with you too. It’s called the Maiden Tower. Here’re I am in front of it.

Below is an extract from my book.

Enjoy the extract and if you’d like to buy your copy, here’s the link: www.gularavincent.co.uk/book

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Extract from Hammer, Sickle & Broom:

‘Have you ever been up the Maiden Tower?’ He smiled a tooth-filled grin.

I could only manage to shake my head in reply.

‘It’s just over there,’ he said, pointing.

Of course, I had learnt of the iconic 12th century tower of Baku from books and television. It looked far more imposing in real life, as it stood proudly at the edge of the old city bridging the ancient culture with the modern world. As we headed towards it, I wracked my brains trying to come up with a topic of conservation to distract from my hunger pangs, but then he took my hand, and again his closeness overwhelmed me with shyness.

Climbing up the narrow stairs of the tower in semi[1]darkness, I was acutely aware of Ilham’s presence behind me. Was he looking at my backside? Was it too big? I had wanted him to go ahead of me, but he had insisted ‘ladies first’. Now the stairs were too narrow, even if I pressed myself against the wall, for him to pass me.

‘Do you know the legend of the Maiden Tower?’ Ilham asked, panting ever so slightly as we reached a round room in the middle of our ascent. After a moment’s hesitation, I shook my head, figuring it was probably a safe topic of conversation. To avoid his searching eyes, I surveyed the round chamber, which must have served as a living room in the past and contained some ancient carpets and pottery in display cabinets. It reminded me of the museum where Mama used to work. Ilham started climbing the next flight of stairs and I followed him.

‘Apparently,’ Ilham continued as he ascended, ‘there was a young girl. She came from a wealthy family, but she had the misfortune of falling in love with a young poor man. Her dad forbade her to marry him and built this prison. Did you know that the Maiden Tower was once in the middle of the sea?’

‘No,’ I lied from behind him, concentrating on the steep stone steps.

‘Her father built it in the middle of the sea to keep her there while he arranged for her wedding with an old rich guy. One day…’ he paused to catch his breath as we reached another chamber, ‘the young woman was in her chamber when she heard heavy male steps climbing up the stairs.’

The tower had only small windows, which let in little daylight, but as we stopped, I saw Ilham’s face clearly. He was enjoying telling the story.

‘She thought it was the old man who had come to take her away against her will. She ran up these very stairs to the top.’ He illustrated this with a sudden burst of speed up the last of the steps. I rushed after him, smiling. He paused dramatically at the final archway for so long that I started getting impatient with him.

‘So?’

‘Oh, you are listening then, good.’ He grinned and continued grandly. ‘We are about to emerge at the top of the tower.’

As we stepped through the arch back into the daylight, I was dazzled by how high above the city we were on the one side, and the vivid blue of the Caspian Sea on the other. Ilham half-shouted above the buffeting of the wind.

‘When she reached the top, she climbed over the parapet and jumped into the sea, never to be seen again!’

I could not help but sway with thinking of it. Ilham came in closer to me.

‘But, little did she know, the footsteps were not her ugly, rich suitor, but her own true love who had swum all the way to the tower to reunite with her!’

We looked at the sea in silence. Did all love stories end in tragedy? What would I have done if I were that young girl? Would I agree to marry the rich old guy? Or would I rather die for my true love?