When the Azerbaijan and Iceland national teams played the 0–2 World Cup qualifier in Baku, it wasn’t just the game that caught Icelandic media attention—the city itself became a story.
Idman.Biz reports that Icelandic journalists described Baku as a “half-Manhattan,” highlighted their cultural shock, and were particularly surprised by a small prayer room for media representatives at the stadium.
The Icelandic delegation reached the Caspian Sea through three flights and started documenting the journey as a mini-series called “Road to the World Cup” from the moment they stepped off the plane. The Sýn TV crew arrived in Baku late at night after a long multi-stop journey, and their fatigue quickly turned into admiration. In a report for Vísir, they described the capital as a city with “incredible buildings” and noted that one part of the city, with its dense, skyline-heavy district, reminded them of Manhattan.
For a country used to Reykjavik’s low-rise buildings and northern restraint, Baku’s contrast seemed cinematic: illuminated skyscrapers, glass, metal, and the Caspian promenade, along which Icelandic commentators would later broadcast live on match day, discussing their team’s chances under the soft autumn sun.
On Fotbolti.net, a separate article focused on the Icelandic journalists’ first impressions of Azerbaijan. The author noted honestly that, culturally, the country is “completely different” from Iceland, but the initial days in Baku were described as “very pleasant”—a sentiment shared by both the national team’s staff and players.
Iceland’s head coach Arnar Gunnlaugsson, opening a press conference, specifically mentioned how much he liked Baku and highlighted the city’s beauty. An Icelandic journalist described the capital as very diverse: buildings of different styles coexist, from modernist structures to shiny high-rises, creating an unusual yet attractive picture for northern eyes.
The report also mentions the religious context: around 90% of Azerbaijan’s population are Shia Muslims, yet the constitution does not establish a state religion. For Icelanders, where faith is rarely part of everyday football life, this became one of the most striking moments of the trip.
The main “feature” of the stadium, according to Icelandic reports, is not even the pitch but a small prayer room next to the media area. Fotbolti.net detailed that right beside the press working room at Neftchi’s home arena, where the match was held, there is a designated space for journalists to pray.
The author noted that the room is just a few steps from the conference hall. For an Icelandic audience, this seems almost exotic: it’s hard to imagine a dedicated prayer space for media at a football stadium anywhere in northern Europe. The journalist wryly added that some locals would surely pray for Azerbaijan to win, but reminded readers that, sports-wise, the match mattered more to Iceland, which is still fighting for a World Cup spot.
Another recurring theme in Icelandic texts was the surprisingly modest interest of Baku’s audience in the match. In a Vísir article titled “Azerbaijanis not very interested, stadium likely half-empty,” the journalist cited organizers’ data: with a stadium capacity of around 11,000, approximately 4,000 spectators were expected, despite initial estimates of 8,000.
Morgunblaðið noted that around 20–30 Icelanders traveled to Baku: some direct, some via Istanbul, but for all, it was an adventure on the edge of the football map—from the cold Atlantic to the Caspian Sea.
Taken together, these details make Baku appear in Icelandic media not just as a stop on the qualifier calendar but as a vibrant city that surprises and attracts. Flame Towers and other skyscrapers become a “half-Manhattan,” the promenade a live TV studio, and the small prayer room near the press center a symbol of a different culture.
Against this backdrop, the match score is only part of the story. Iceland leaves Baku not only with three points and a chance at the World Cup playoff but also with the impression of a city far more vivid and complex than the stereotypical image of “somewhere in the Caucasus.”
Icelandic coverage reflects this clearly: they write not only about goals, tactics, and tournament calculations but also about how Baku looks, feels, differs from Reykjavik, and why one might want to return—not just for football.
Teymur Tushiyev
