bad man good man

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I went back to the museum today, to get my “antiques” looked at. Turns out it cost me 5 euros for photos and almost 50 euros for the certificate for the items. It didn’t feel good.

I walked back to the apartment where I was staying, and on the way there I came across a bunch of cats on a stairway:

Really, it was a bunch:

Then, when I got back to the apartment block, I opened the Caboose to take out some things, and when I did I noticed that someone had tried to mess with the lock and open her before:

It was disturbing. I had not met many bad people on my walk from Beijing to here. But they existed. And the simple and ugly truth was that I was always more worried about men than about women. Bad men.

I looked at the Caboose, weighing my options, and then I decided to get her the fuck out of there. I left some of my stuff in the apartment, then I grabbed her and started walking.

It was already late when we started out, and I wasn’t sure where to go:

I figured I could find a hotel with a secure parking space or a garage and park her there. Or better yet, I could find a bike shop where they could store her and fix her up. Remember the wheel problem? It had not been taken care of, yet.

So I walked down the streets of Baku:

The traffic was bad, but we somehow managed to sneak through:

Sometimes we had to walk on highway ramps:

And sometimes we managed to stay under the highways:

Then, at about eight, we arrived at Velolider, a bike shop in the north of the city:

The owner was Vuqar, a professional cyclist himself:

Yes, he said, he would store the Caboose, take care of her, and see what he could do to fix the wheel situation.

Then he gave me a lift back.

A good man.

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