Category: Europe

You know, I was actually meant to visit Tallinn way back in the first week of December, almost exactly three full months before my actual visit. But then the missed flight happened, and yada yada yada…

So here I was, finally rolling into this Estonian capital via bus instead of boat, and I was properly exhausted by this point. My brain was quite the jumble, and though I was looking forward to exploring this little city, some larger part of me was unabashedly excited to be home again and to have something to cuddle that wasn’t the top few inches of a borrowed duvet.

I had heard great things about Tallinn, though, so I fought hard to shush that lonely part of myself so that I could give this town the attention it deserved.

The skies were a bit grey upon my noon-ish arrival, but the buildings were bright, and I had quite a scenic walk even just from the bus drop-off to my hostel.

Once I got to the hostel, I was shown to my twelve-bed mixed bunk room that I would share with only one other boy for two nights, and then I camped out in a little window seat for several hours while I read, wrote some postcards, and blogged with a great view of some nearby rooftops.

I was in that dangerous state of both wanting to explore and wanting to do absolutely nothing for the rest of the day, but I still had several hours of daylight remaining, and I finally was able to force myself into the outside world.

I decided to take it easy and wander an area very close to my hostel that promised a good viewpoint of the city.

A Russian Orthodox Church lay waiting for me at the top of the hill, and I popped inside for a bit of the evening service.

Then I walked around, admired the colorful buildings, and found my first viewpoint.

This one wasn’t too exciting, but there were others just around the corner, have no fear. Also, since seeing a poster in the tourist information center, I was on the lookout for cute doors, and there were plenty to squeal about up there.

So cute, right?? And these adorable doors were followed by the discovery of the much more flashy viewpoint.

Beautiful! The fine dusting of snow was a lovely touch, too, and after a few minutes, this seagull came around and became part of a half dozen photoshoots.

Apparently he’s a bit famous. Steven Seagull, they call him. Tehehe.

Once I decided it was too cold and too long to wait for the sunset up there, I continued on and found a little courtyard lined with these terrifying dementor-like statues.

I mean, come on. If that’s not a dementor, I don’t know what is! (Turns out they are actually supposed to be monks, but they scared the living daylights out of me, nonetheless.)

After that little adventure, I made my way back down the hill, past St. John’s Church and several cute little archway-covered paths.

My destination was an over-priced Thai place that I had seen advertised on my map. I had the restaurant to myself for most of the meal, and my food, though far too spicy for my weak little taste buds, was quite delicious. I sat on a couch of sorts and really, really, really enjoyed my CocoRose mocktail consisting of coconut, lychee, lime, and rose lemonade. Yum! I’ll take a fancy mocktail over a basic alcoholic beverage any day, especially when the mocktails are half the price!

I was also obsessed with their classy bathroom, and I was tickled to see that they delivered my check to me in a giant golden egg…

A strange place, but a lovely experience that left me full and ready for bed!

The next morning, I awoke to between four and eight inches of overnight snow! Craziness! The town I’d explored the day before had completely transformed before my eyes. Quite the party trick.

I ate like a king at my hostel’s complimentary breakfast, and then I was off to trudge through the snow in my warmest remaining layers.

This was the heaviest snow cover I’d seen since Rovaniemi, and I was delighted! I missed the start of the ten o’clock walking tour, but I was able to catch them on their first stop with the help of the tourist information center. Thank goodness. And just look at our little guide all bundled up in the cold!

You know, I don’t think I ever got our guide’s name since I missed the introductions, but he really was a treat. His family’s history turned out to be nearly as rich as the country’s. His grandfather on one side was sent to Siberia during the Russian occupation and managed to walk the hundreds of miles back to home several years later. His grandparents on the other side were sent to Siberia because they were deemed too wealthy and therefore a threat to the Russian elites in Tallinn, but this mark was judged based on the width of their floorboards, when in actuality, they were quite poor and only had wide floorboards because his grandfather was a carpenter by trade. And all this only two generations ago! It blew my mind that he could talk about these events so casually, but I presume his colleagues and peers could all tell similar stories of their families’ pasts.

Anyway, we walked and slid our way across this snow-laden town to a supposed mark in the street that we pretended to see.

Then we climbed up and up, passed a church and the freedom monument that is almost constantly under repair because its exterior is made of glass.

And then, to my surprise and headshakes, we climbed into the walled hilly area that I had forced myself to explore the day before.

Haha. Oh well. It was nice to see it covered in snow, at least. It really did seem like an entirely different place, and it was hard to believe that a mere 18 hours had passed since I had explored these grounds.

Here’s my favorite comparison:

Same tree! 18 hours apart! Crazy, right?

We also paid a visit to the dementor monks. I liked them much more when they were covered in snow.

Afterwards, I took a load off in front of the presidential palace.

Then we slid and trudged our way to St. John’s Church. We were actually able to go inside this time, and I found out the reason I couldn’t get inside the previous day was that I had been trying the wrong door. Whoops.

Oh, and remember that pretty lookout?

Quite a different landscape in the snow. It was also positively freezing up there thanks to some northern winds. Brrrrr!!! We couldn’t stay in the gale for more than a few minutes before we hastily slid our way back into the shelter of the buildings and the adorable doors.

But I was tricked! We checked out the other viewpoint and got another healthy dose of the winter winds. Worth it for the views, of course.

Toes properly frozen at this point, we made our way back down the hill and to Town Hall Square.

As the tour came to a close and I gave our guide a proper tip that said, “Thank you for being outside for us,” we were given a number of suggestions on how to spend our days. My favorite suggestion was to visit our guide’s favorite vegan chocolate shop off an alley near the square, so I did just that, and I ordered a semla bun – also known as vastlakukkel in Estonian (this was Shrove Tuesday, the last day before Lent, and this was therefore the last and best day to have one!) – along with three different chocolate chunks: coffee, salted chocolate, and Snickers. All were delicious.

My next activity was to walk around to the market hall for a quick lunch bite.

I ended up doing quite a bit of wandering in there because a whole floor was dedicated to antique shops! So fun! I really wanted to buy this navy and white polka dot pantsuit, but I resisted.

Seriously. It was really hard not to buy the whole lot. Thank goodness for luggage restrictions.

For about five bucks, I indulged in a smoothie, some naan, and a sweet and sour soup. It was delicious, but the soup was quite hot, so it took a while for it to cool down. Also, I was fully enraptured by my book, and before I knew it, my quick lunch had turned into a three-plus hour stop.

Now, this was a bit frustrating, because I had actually had some big plans for the day, and by this point, there wasn’t actually time for any of them. The reason I was on a time crunch was because of that Shrove Tuesday I mentioned earlier. I had picked up a flier announcing a celebration feast at the nearby open-air museum, and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. The dinner started at six, and it would take me about 40 minutes to get over there. The thing is, I wanted to see all the other festivities and exhibits at the museum, too, but I had so lost track of time that it was nearly five o’clock by the time I left the market. I shook my head and shook my fist at my past self and that too-hot soup and that too-good book, but with no better options, all that was left was to go to the museum and see what fun I could have at the celebration.

I hopped on a bus, passed a beautiful Notre Dame-like church, and was at the museum before I knew it.

The sun was just setting when I arrived, and there was even more snow out here than there had been in the city. The location looked so much like Santa Claus Village in Finland, and it brought me full-circle on my trip. So glad it snowed for me in Estonia!

So, unfortunately, the next hour or so was kind of… excruciatingly awkward. I seemed to be the only person in the whole building who was not Estonian, except a lone German couple, and everybody seemed to know everybody else. It was less like a big event at a random museum and more like one giant family gathering at a local community center. Everybody dumped their coats into the small room off the main entrance and headed in to the main banquet hall. This is one quirk I love about northern Europe that is so unlike anything in the US: the fact that people trust strangers to not steal their coats while eating. Unless we’re in a super fancy restaurant with a coat check, 99% of the time, we just bring our jackets to our table and drape them over the back of our chairs. Not here, though. Here, people want to step in the door and forget they even brought a coat. They want to indulge in the warm indoor temperatures and hide all evidence of the wind, rain, and snow outside. Or maybe the idea of hanging one’s coat on their chair just seems a bit sloppy? Either way, I love this practice.

What I did not love was not knowing what to do or where to go and feeling like I was somehow trespassing on something sacred and personal. I ordered a glass of wine (was not very tasty) in a funny little goblet and huddled near the German couple in a smaller room off from the main banquet hall. I couldn’t tell if seats were reserved or what, but that place just seemed too packed for me to fit, and I couldn’t tell if the food was included, ordered individually, or served per each table. It was all a mess.

Finally, shortly after the German couple abandoned me and a group of eight friends literally surrounded me at my table (a picnic-style table with benches: four on the other side of the table, two to my left, and two to my right), I decided I was going to give up and go home.

But first, a trip to the ladies’ room.

The trick here was that I had to pass through the banquet hall to get to the toilet. And as I did so, I got a better view of the party. Bowls of pea soup, mashed potatoes and pork, hearty-looking bread, and lots of alcohol lined each table.

When I returned from the restroom, I decided to mosey about the tables for a bit, and I surreptitiously wedged myself into an empty spot on a bench.

This spot still seemed too intrusive, though, and I finally noticed a bench on the opposite wall that was only half-occupied by a couple of girls. I edged my way through the crowd to join them and got a great view of the dance floor.

Dude. This dancing was insane. It was honestly the closest thing I’ve ever seen to the partner dancing portrayed in every movie with kings and queens and knights and balls. An intricate set of movements with changing partners and raised palms, twirls and steps and perfectly-timed claps. Every dance was different, and everyone seemed to know every dance. It was amazing.

The band consisted of a bagpipe player, a couple fiddles, and three accordians. As the beats swayed and moved, I lost myself in the music and the dancing, my awkwardness of the previous hour slowly but surely replaced by smiles.

Meanwhile, I was trying not to drool over the heaping plates of neglected semla buns and bread sitting on the table next to me. It didn’t seem that anybody wanted them, but I also didn’t see how I could just take one without offending someone. When a waitress came rushing about to clear the table, though, I asked about the bread, and she told me it was a very traditional Estonian bread and that I should try some with the herb butter. Score!

It was so delicious. Kind of like a zucchini bread, but a bit heartier. Ugh. I can almost taste it now. After a while, I also went up and ordered some pudding topped with berries. I thought it was going to be a sort of rice pudding, but I was surprised (and a little displeased) to find that it was a sort of grainy thing. Turns out it was actually a sort of grain whipped into cream, and I think I would chalk it up as an acquired taste. Not horrible, but nothing close to the deliciousness of that bread.

Now, after an hour or more of hanging out on my little bench and watching the dancers, a young woman approached me. I was confused at first and ready to say that I needed English, but she seemed to know that already, and she quickly asked if I was “the one taking the videos.” After recovering myself, I answered that I had, in fact, been taking some videos, and she asked if she could see if I had captured any of her.

Before long, I had just passed her my phone, and she was merrily laughing and sending herself videos over WhatsApp. Kind of silly, but I couldn’t blame her.

And then, to my greater surprise, this beady-eyed little man who I’d seen shmoozing a number of pretty ladies throughout the night waltzed right through the tables and offered me a hand.

“Oh, I don’t know how,” I said, recoiling a bit with a smile.

Undeterred, the man waved toward himself, offered the hand again with a shake of his head, and insisted, “Please, please.” In the Baltics, this “please” means less of a pleading gesture and more of, “Oh, go on then.” I took my sweater off, asked the girl still holding my phone to put my phone in my purse when she was finished, and I was off with the beady little man.

It was amazing, obviously. The dance was a sort of step-kick-step-kick-step-kick-step-step and repeat, swaying from side to side and moving in a big circle around the dance floor. I had my goofy New Dance Smile plastered to my face, and I wished I’d taken off another layer.

After that first dance, the beady man asked if I wanted to try another one. I agreed quickly. This one was a quick waltz: right-step-step-left-step-step and repeat. We moved about in the circle as before, and the beady man asked if I knew this one, because apparently I was “very good.”

At some point though, on a cue invisible to my eyes and nonexistent to my ears, our circle broke slightly, just four partners ahead of me, and the man at the front led the group in a snaking line through the center aisle between tables toward the back of the room. We went all the way to the back before the men peeled off to the left and the women to the right. I think I could have figured it out from there, but my cute little partner held on and went with me with the ladies to make sure I wouldn’t get lost.

We careened towards the walls and made our way back to the dance floor by dancing down the side of the hall, bumping our way through abandoned benches and backpacks until we had reached the main dance floor again and the partners reunited. Then we were off again!

This time, when we got to the back of the hall, instead of peeling away by gender, we zippered: the first couple off to the left, the next to the right, and so on. This time around, someone had rushed to clear more space for us along the walls.

We continued this crazy swirling dance, the next time forming a human tunnel and taking turns ducking under the arms of the other dancers to make our way to the back. We repeated this pattern three or four times before the leading man broke off yet again and returned to the main dance floor. Then, and to this day, I’m still not entirely sure how we pulled it off, we began an intricate and complex swirl that reminded me of the shapes a dancing octopus might make. We all held hands now, my partner on my right and the woman in front of me on my left, and I followed her tugs in whichever direction she pulled me.

First, as the room full of dancers was completing its last human tunnel and joining our snaking Estonian conga line, we spun around the room to create a big circle again. Then, once the leader man had determined we had all the dancers, he pulled gently but firmly towards the center of the room and our giant circle slowly morphed into a dizzying spiral, coiling in on itself until there were three rows of waltzing dancers between me and the walls. The leader totally threw me for a loop, though, when he turned sharply and somehow threaded his way between the two innermost rings so that we were spiraling against and between the first spiral, dancing our way through until we were on the outside instead of the center. Aaaaaaand repeat.

We did this two or three times before the leader pulled us somehow into two separate spirals that were still connected in the middle so that we crisscrossed between the left and right sides of the room in two Dancing Spirals of Death.

What really blew my mind was that there was never once a hiccup. We were moving so seamlessly as one that there was no chance to mess up this beautiful dragon dance. At some point, the bagpipe woman decided she just couldn’t take it anymore, and she ran to the end of the line and continued playing while joining our snaking line. It was so crazy. In all my adventures, I have never more wished that I was wearing a body camera.

I honestly don’t even remember how it ended, but when it did, the room erupted in hugs, cheers, and applause in celebration of our collective amazingness and extreme dance skills. I ran to take off some layers, and then the entire room gathered in a circle to hold hands. Even those who hadn’t been dancing before joined this circle. Someone began making a speech, though, so I took this chance to run to the restroom, and right as the door closed behind me, I heard the room join in song.

When I came out, it was clear that the party was over. So, yeah. I’d missed the big finale. Haha. Oops. I sat down to wait for my bus and chatted a bit with the video girl as she munched on some pea soup, and around ten, I grabbed my bus home.

I slept well that night.

And to make up for two days of accidental laziness, I had a very busy day planned for my last full day in Europe. My first stop was a waterfall about an hour away. Unfortunately, I missed the bus…. Ugh. I was so upset, let me tell you. I woke up really early for this bus, because it only runs three times a day, but I had cut my timing close, and then I’d left my phone in the hostel and had to turn back, and I missed the bus by mere minutes. This was around eight in the morning, and the next bus wasn’t until after eleven.

I walked around and pouted for a while, but o finally decided the only way forward was to rearrange my plans a bit and have a very productive morning of touring the bits of the city I’d missed so far. My first stop was right next to the bus bay: the Notre Dame-like church.

There was a class (or classes?) of young school children lining up in the front pews as I stuck my head in, but as they quieted down, I had a distinct feeling the priest was giving me the “what the heck are you doing here?” look, so I snapped a picture and snuck back out.

Then I played around in the snow and checked out another church (this one was closed until ten), the opera house, and the theater.

Afterward, I snaked my way back to the east along the old city walls to some still-standing watch towers lined with souvenir stands and floral shops.

It took a lot of self restraint to not buy a sweater and a silly long hat.

Then I wandered a bit more, ducking into alleys and exploring little shops not yet open.

My favorite courtyard was called the Artists’ Courtyard, and it was stuffed with little shops and cafes. What delighted me the most, though, was the way the snow had accumulated on the courtyard furniture.

So funky! Next was some more churches and cute doors.

And even more churches, towers, and cute doors.

I eventually made it to this giant tower, fondly named Fat Margaret.

Big lady.

Now, on the very edge of my tourist map was some sort of concrete structure erected for the winter Olympics long ago, and though it didn’t seem like it would be phenomenally interesting, I was already so close, so I exited the city walls and headed across the busy roads. On my way, I ended up behind this young gentleman, and I couldn’t get over the fact that he was clearly underdressed for the weather! Naked ankles in the cold annoy me to no end. He had a cool briefcase, though.

And soon enough, the structure rose up before me.

Basically just a giant set of stairs?? This area was not plowed or shoveled at all, so I did my best to copy the footprints of one of the two other people who had ventured here before me, and I headed out and up! I had to be extra careful on the stairs since I couldn’t always even see the steps.

When I reached the top, another set of stairs loomed ahead of me, as well as a bunch of lights and a bit more of a showy construction.

The snow was also melted down a bit in some parts thanks to the direct exposure to the sun, and I discovered the most puzzling thing:

Reverse snow footprints??? I puzzled for a long time on how this was possible. Could it be that someone just got a lot of snow stuck to their shoes and left the remnants in their tracks? But then I finally figured it out: the footprint culprit had been walking through this area while the whole thing was still covered in snow, and wherever they stepped, the snow compacted. Therefore, when the sun hit and melted all the fluffy stuff away, it left the hard-packed prints as a sort of snowy ice. Science.

It was also ridiculously bright, so it was extremely hard to keep my eyes open for pictures.

I was going to turn back after this, but in the end, I decided to trek all the way over to the second set of steps.

And, unsurprisingly, it was completely worth it. I got a great view of the southeast edge of the city.

And I was shocked to find the Baltic Sea laid out before me on the other side!

That actually took my breath away a bit. It was so beautiful and bright and peaceful up there. Would have been a great place for a picnic.

Eventually, I turned and made my way back down.

I also discovered I drag my feet just barely above the surface of the ground:

Then back past Fat Margaret and through the town to the bus station.

These are the Three Sisters, kind of like the Three Brothers in Riga, except these buildings are all theater-related now:

More buildings and more walls:

And a park I just had to swing on, no matter how close I was to the bus station:

I had a little bit of extra time once I made it to the bus station, so I stopped to get a vending machine coffee. I was surprised to find blueberry juice listed as one of the options, but I ordered it because blueberry juice is so stinking good. I was doubly surprised once it was dispensed and I found that it was steaming hot. Warm blueberry juice? Sounds sketchy, but it was one of the most delicious drinks I had on this whole trip.

Next, I stopped into the market hall to grab some lunch to go, and I boarded my bus a few minutes later. (The bus was actually nearly ten minutes late, and this annoyed the heck out of me, of course, since if the morning bus had been that late, I actually could have caught it. Sigh…)

About half an hour later, the bus dropped me off on the side of the road and I began my twenty minute trek to the falls.

And then, huzzah! Jägala Waterfall!

It is hard to tell from the top angle because of the lighting, but it’s not a small waterfall. Rather short, yes, but nice and wide. I made my way down to its base to get a better look.

The water stays this nasty brownish-yellow color year-round, and parts of it were frozen.

There was also a lot of weirdly-formed, bubbly, yellow ice along the banks of the river.

I ventured across the bubbly ice to get behind the waterfall, but I didn’t go too far because I didn’t want to end up underneath of the precariously hanging icicles.

After a lot of messing around down there and enjoying the rush of the Yellow Falls, I headed back up toward the bus once more.

I did stop briefly to make a snowman: ☃️

His name is Ted.

Then onwards!

I had a brief encounter with a small, elderly Estonian woman who did not speak a lick of English. Our conversation was difficult seeing as I do not speak a lick of Estonian. As far as I could tell, she was maybe trying to point me back in the direction of the bus, but I was trying to venture past her home to get to a small waterfall showing up on my map. We had a bit of a standoff, me shaking my head and pointing toward the water, shrugging and saying sorry. She, on the other hand, pointed emphatically in the direction of the bud stop and said a lot of things very quickly. After twenty seconds or so, we would both look at each other blankly as if accepting that neither of us could possibly comprehend the other, and then I was slowly turn and start back toward the waterfall. She would then start up all over again. This happened four or five times before she finally admitted defeat and let me walk back there. The very particular awkwardness that exists between two people who want to communicate and have no way of doing so is very interesting to me, and in the end, I was on the wrong side of the current to see the falls, anyway. I saw a nice bridge, though.

Then more walking and a long bus ride back to town.

My next stop was the Seaplane Museum, highly reviewed by my tour guide the day before.

It ended up being a super cool building. The whole thing was a bit of an architectural wonder, and it was kind of set up to make you feel as though you are underwater.

Items on display included a partially-recovered Viking ship, a full-sized military submarine, some buoys, and ice sail ships. (I can’t remember the technical name for these, but they were basically small vessels with skates under them for sailing around on ice-covered lakes and rivers! Those crazy Northerners…

And speaking of crazy Northerners, there was a sea kayak on display used by an Estonian and a Norwegian to trek their way from the North Pole to Svalbard. The only other mode of transportation they used was skiing. Craziness.

One large section of the museum was dedicated to weaponry: all different shapes and sizes, but all gigantic and terrifying. I didn’t like this part of the museum. I realized here that I’d never really been this close to any sort of crazy big military weapons except for super old canons used more as decoration now. It was honestly really disturbing to be around them, so I walked quickly and made my way down to the ground floor.

Here’s me touching The Butt (aka: the giant submarine):

There was also a little yellow submarine that I went in to experience a simulated ride. We went “all around the world” in about eight minutes.

Another cool interactive exhibit was a water pressure simulator. Visitors were instructed to place their hands between two bubbles and watch as the water level rose in a tube up above while experiencing the increase in pressure squeezing their hands between the bubbles. It hurt.

I also had a photoshoot.

Outside was a little playground that I spent some time in (because I think adults have just as much right to an empty playground as children).

Then I walked along the marina a bit.

There was an icebreaker ship open for exploration with little exhibits inside.

The engine room was my favorite.

They even had a place where visitors could try their hand at coal-shoveling, but I quickly learned that coal-shoveling goes hand in hand with coal-dust-inhaling, and I swiftly moved on.

The rest of the ship displayed cabins, toilets, the dining halls, and the bunk rooms for lower-level shipmen.

I don’t think I would enjoy living in this tiny hostel-like room for months on end.

I also spent a lot of time on the top decks of the ship admiring the frozen waters around me. I love this pattern in the ice.

Just as it was getting dark, I headed back towards the main part of town and out again to a palace-turned-art-museum.

The Kadriorg Palace was tucked away in Kadriorg Park.

The Palace was small, but it was beautiful, and I really liked the art selection on display.

There’s another, larger art museum called Kumu very close to this one, but I wouldn’t have time to visit before the end of my stay. These three pieces are studies for a massive painting on display in Kumu:

Some other pieces I liked:

I liked these two, portraits of the artist’s mother and father:

Now, I was meant to visit Tallinn back in December, but I had a missed flight incident. I was supposed to visit the city with my friend John (sorry, John), and I requested that he send me as many pictures as possible. One set of pictures I received was a series of close-ups with the caption, “I think this painting is hilarious.” Imagine my delight when I found that very painting in this museum. I decided to take my own set of close-ups, though.

Seriously, such a weird painting.

Here are some of my last favorites:

Then I had a nice stroll back though the park and played around on some play structures I found. I found some abandoned sleds, but I sadly realized they belonged to a nearby family, so I didn’t get a chance to borrow them.

Then back into town to Rateskevu 16, a restaurant highly recommended by both John and my walking tour guide. The big pull for me, though, was the €5 kids meal. Not chicken nuggets or pizza – this kids meal was a salmon and salad dish. Uhhh, sign me up! It was a little awkward ordering, but I told the waitress I just wanted to have room for a starter as well. She said it would be fine, but I should be aware that the kids’ dishes were, “under seasoned and quite small.” I assured her that this was acceptable and ordered a glass of wine to assure everyone else I was an adult.

The meal started off with this ridiculously delicious brown bread and seasoned butter with some kind of magic snack cracker.

My starter was fried herring with a salad and two kinds of equally mouthwateringly savory dressings. I cannot describe the magic in this dish, so I won’t even try.

As the waitress brought out the main course, she announced in a small, high-pitched character voice, “Baby salad!”

It. Was. Amazing. Not under seasoned. Just the right size. Far and away the tastiest and most wonderful kids meal I’ve ever seen.

And this was how I received the receipt:

Hilarious.

When I finished dinner, I took a last little Estonian adventure through the town.

Mostly, I wanted to see the few cathedrals and churches I’d missed.

But there were lots of cute doors along the way, too.

When I got back to my hostel, fulfilled and exhausted, I landed in the dingy little common space and figured out my escape plan for the following day.

Desperately desiring a shower but far too tired to do anything about it, I collapsed in bed for a few hours. Then, rising before the sun, I set off again, past Fat Margaret, and to the ferry terminal to head back to Finland.

Thanks for a fun few days, Estonia! I really do want to come back in the summer one of these days. Until then…

Best wishes/ parimate soovidega,
-Lizzy-wa

On the home stretch! Last week of the trip. And by this point, I was really starting to feel it. My mornings started later than I wanted them to, I spent more time lazing about, and my mind always seemed a little jumbled. Six weeks on the move seemed to be taking its toll on me.

My bus from Vilnius to Riga was about four hours long, and it was honestly one of the most luxurious rides I’ve ever had. They don’t call it LuxExpress for nothing! The seats were roomy and comfortable, outlets and wifi were provided, and the bathroom was actually kind of nice. These factors all made this an above-average bus journey, but on top of that, there was a FREE hot drinks dispenser (coffee, hot chocolate, tea, etc.), and there was a screen on the back of every seat with a really decent movie selection! Seriously. Can we spread this Baltic bus company to the rest of the world?

We arrived in Riga just after ten at night, and the walk to my hostel showed me that even at this hour, Riga was a more lively city than Vilnius. It is the largest of the Baltic capitals, after all, and I could see a lot more modern touches spread throughout the old town.

I really needed to do laundry, but it cost seven euros (about eight bucks). This seemed way over priced, but I didn’t have an option since I was running out of underwear. I agreed to the service, and the hostel worker told me I could leave my laundry with her and she would have it washed and dried by morning.

“Oh… You’re going to do it?” I asked. Little did I know just how full service this laundry deal was. In the morning, before I settled down for my free breakfast buffet, I was presented with my bag of laundry, washed, dried, AND folded! Even the socks were paired up, and everything was organized by clothing type! What the heck??? Definitely worth the seven euros.

I had a late start (slow moving, as I said), and I found it hard to leave my book. Around one in the afternoon, I managed to pry myself from my seat at the kitchen to bundle up and head outside.

On my way to the bus stop, I passed by the Freedom Monument, a Russian Orthodox Church, and a couple city parks. I also filled up a water bottle with some fresh orange juice. Yum.

I was venturing across town to the Kalnciema market, a weekly farmers market held every Saturday. There were pretty coats (I really wanted one), some super yummy looking fish that seemed impractical to buy, and lots of baked goods.

For lunch, I got a burger and some warm fruit juice. “It’s very sweet,” the booth worker said of the juice, and he wasn’t kidding. It really hit the spot in the cold though, and the burger was honestly one of the tastiest burgers I’ve ever had. The sauce and toppings were amazing and mouthwateringly savory, but the burger itself was also top-notch. I knew it would be special since the stall also sold freshly butchered meat, but dude. This was some gourmet stuff. The patty practically melted and fell apart in my mouth. Ugh. So good.

In Vilnius, while I was raving about the food to some people in my hostel, one boy had complained. “I’ve decided that food in the Baltics is meant to be consumed, not enjoyed,” he’d said. Also, “The last meal I had in Riga was a burger that tasted like cigarettes.” He was clearly eating at the wrong establishments, because so far, I’d had nothing but success and deliciousness.

After the market, I planned to bus back across the water to climb a church tower, but the last stop before the bridge crossing was at the national library, so I excitedly jumped off early.

Very beautiful piece of architecture, if you ask me. (If you were to ask the Belgian architect in my hostel, he would say it was ugly, but we’re all entitled to our own opinions.)

It wasn’t the most unwelcoming library ever, but it was one of those weird ones that is hyper sensitive about book thievery. All bags and coats (including my tiny purse) had to be checked into lockers or coat check, and any belongings brought inside had to be carried in a borrowed, see-through briefcase-like bag. Then, I had to get a guest pass and badge in. The librarian at the front desk told me I could go to the eighth floor, so I confusedly went there first.

There was a small exhibit on library history in Riga on this floor, but I wasn’t able to access anything else. Since the librarian had specifically told me I could go to this floor, I thought that meant maybe I wasn’t allowed to visit other floors, but that also seemed silly. I carefully explored the floors below me, one at a time, until I came to a reading room with a great view of old town across the water.

I plopped down in a big pink couch at read until the library closed just a little while later, and I admit that I did feel kind of cool with my badge on.

After we all got kicked out, I walked back across the water and admired the pretty bridges.

My destination was St. Peter’s Church, but it was closed! The hours posted were 10-6, and it wasn’t even five yet! I was not pleased. Not one bit.

Sad about the early closure of the cathedral, but unsure how else to spend my evening, I resigned myself to some shopping and wandering.

Luckily, it was a lovely day for it, and it was nice to stroll the quiet streets, ducking into churches here and there whenever the doors were unlocked.

I made it all the way to the water to see the Dome Church and Riga Castle.

Yesyes. Lots of pretty things. I forgot my disappointments and enjoyed my walk instead.

I found a spot to eat along the old city walls, and I tucked into some bruschetta and wine with the restaurant all to myself.

After a long and wandering day, a warm shower and my cozy bed were welcome friends, indeed.

My next day started with another lovely breakfast and some lovely conversation with a kindly Belgian man. He told me of his year long honeymoon (I’ve seriously been talking about this for a while – doesn’t it sound heavenly???), though he admitted that after a year, he and his wife got back to Belgium, looked around, and said, “Nah,” before heading back out for another six months. He did admit that it took several years to get used to a standard work week and ‘normal life’ again, so that part doesn’t sound so great. Give and take. Give and take. He also gave me a hardboiled quail egg to snack on that he had purchased at the Kalnciema market the previous day.

I was hoping to catch a 10am walking tour, but I just wasn’t moving fast enough. I did manage to make it out the door in time for the 11am, though, and my guide’s name was Toms. We started back at St. Peter’s Church.

Then we made our way along the perimeter of the church…

And came upon this statue representing characters from a German children’s book. Apparently rubbing their noses is good luck:

According to Toms, the building on the left is the oldest in all of Riga, approximately a thousand years old:

Then we made our way through some ancient archways to the spot where the river which gave Riga its name used to run.

Next, past the square near my hostel…

As we approached the old merchants’ guild, I asked Toms why so many souvenirs in Riga featured a tall black cat, but little did I know that we were, at that moment, approaching the historical landmark that was the reason behind these souvenirs.

You see the cat up above on the top corner of that yellow building? The story goes that a wealthy businessman was denied entry to the merchants’ guild, so he built this building directly across the street and had this cat positioned on the top of the building with its tail pointed to the guild. After some dispute, the city ordered the man to turn the cat so that it faced the guild instead.

Some more wanderings and stories I can no longer recall…

And then we came upon the Three Brothers, three houses built next to each other but during three very different architectural periods.

And even more wanderings… (I stopped taking very good notes because it was raining and rain was chilling me to the bone. I seriously wanted to get the walking tour over and done with, as much as I really was enjoying the tour itself. I was just so stinking cold! Also, does it still count as wandering if someone in the group knows exactly where they’re going at all times? Hmm..)

This is the Swedish Gate, and there was a lovely saxophone player inside:

We came upon the old city walls, this time in the daylight…

And after some more city walking, we came upon the marker commemorating the Baltic Chain, or the two-million-person-long line of hand holding protesting the Baltic occupation by Russia in 1989. Riga was the middle spot, in between Vilnius and Tallinn.

We stopped in a pub to warm up for the last of our stories, and for this, I was grateful. I was even more grateful that the pub was just around the corner from my hostel. When we were released, I all but tossed Toms his tip before sprinting to my bed to decompress, warm my toes, and munch on European goodies.

Once I was properly rested and fully shameful of my junk food binge, I wrestled myself up and out to finally climb that silly tower in St. Peter’s Church.

It was a beautiful sight from the top, despite the fog, the wind, and the rain… Haha.

I had the place mostly to myself. I suppose standing at the top of a building in this wicked weather just didn’t sound super appetizing to the other twenty-or-so tourists in the city. (The empty hostel beds said it all – it was definitely the off season for tourism in the Baltics.)

I didn’t last long up there, but the church was holding a lovely photography exhibition inside, so I took a minute to check that out.

Next, I found some really pretty architecture, including the famous House of the Black Heads and this random rainbow bear.

I then did some more wandering and found my way back to the Dome Church, since this, too, had been closed the evening before.

And then I trekked along the water for a while, very narrowly avoided being doused by several passing cars as they zoomed through puddles, and found refuge in the central market hall.

Seafood, baked goods, fruits, vegetables, spices and meats.

Oh, and some tongues.

Why, Europe? Why the weird meats just out and about like that???

There were pretty pastries, too, though, and I grabbed an apple tart. It really hit the spot. I wish it had been warm!

Can’t complain as much as the poor folks who had their stands outside of the market hall…

After this adventure, I snagged another few pastries, hopped on a bus, and headed across the water again.

This time, I was headed for Latvia’s annual international book and publishing fair. I saw a flyer posted in my hostel, and it sounded fun. I missed all the author and workshop events, but it was still fun to walk among all the books and see all the slashed prices for the end of the fair.

I snacked on some ice cream and was kindly asked to leave the carpeted area until I finished. Ugh.

One of my favorite exhibits was one of a children’s book illustrator. She had painted her characters and scenes on canvases and had them on display. Pretty neat.

It also turned out that when I purchased my ticket, I accidentally let the ticket lady confuse me into purchasing a joint ticket to both the book fair and the college fair on the other side of the exhibition hall. Not one to waste a good ticket, I spent some time wandering over there, too, pretending to be considering a college education in Latvia, but trying very hard to not seem so interested that I would be questioned by one of the booth volunteers. Tehehe.

Well. Enough adventure for one day, right? My body said yes, but I said no! Time to walk for half an hour in the rain on the side of busy streets in search of some magnificent Orthodox Cathedral I had spied the day before on the bus!

Not the most pleasant walk, but the cathedral really was magnificent.

I slipped my scarf over my head and slipped inside for the ceremony, but no pictures allowed. The outside was much more glamorous, though, so no worries here.

I then had a very unfortunate incident where my bus stop was moved due to construction, but there were no signs posted, so I missed the bus and the driver wouldn’t let me on at the stop light, so I had to wait for the next one, and I cried a bit. It was just so cold, and I was super tired…. Twenty extra minutes in the rain is no fun in that state.

My visit to another Orthodox Cathedral across the water put me in better spirits.

Properly tuckered out at this point, I wasted no time in hopping into the first restaurant I spied. I ordered a delicious warm alcoholic punch and some tagliatelle pasta… YUM!

It wasn’t cheap, but it was worth it, and it was still affordable. Thanks, Baltics. I even topped it off with a dessert of a “kruffin,” or a krumpet-muffin… Haha. Was tasty. Chocolate covered strawberry. Yum yum.

On my way back to my hostel, I refilled my fresh-squeezed orange juice bottle and then very quickly passed out (in bed).

I had an early morning up next, but I was surprised to see the sun well and risen. The seasons had started to change while I was on this trip, and I hadn’t even seen it coming.

The waters were still icy, though, and the duckies stood around awkwardly, likely waiting for it to warm up already so they could swim again.

And then I boarded another delightful LuxExpress! The kicker is that this bus ride was only €7 since I bought it in advance! Triple score, if you ask me. I caught some pretty sights in Riga that I’d missed on foot on our way out of the city.

And we passed another river packed with crazy Latvians ice fishing.

At some point, we passed a giant mug of beer…. I wonder if it’s just for show, or if it doubles as some sort of water tower??

We also passed through the famous “beach town” of Estonia, Parnu, and I laughed haughtily at the snow while I sipped my complimentary bus-vending-machine cappuccino. It amazes me that this snow-covered land could ever be home to a proper summer beach. I really do need to return some time in the warmer months!

But that’s for another time… Until then,

Labākās vēlmes/ best wishes,
-Lizzy-wa

So, not to get ahead of myself or anything, but I LOVE VILNIUS.

You may be wondering what the heck a Vilnius is, as I likely would have just a few months ago. Vilnius, my friends, is the capital of Lithuania, a small but beautiful country on the Baltic Sea. Ugh. I cannot recommend this place enough. Maybe it was just my mood, or the weather, or the people I met, or the food I ate, or or or…. Yeah, it was just all pretty great.

The funny part was that my first impression wasn’t actually all that dandy. As I disembarked the bus from the airport (public busses are only one euro – first point to Vilnius!), I made my way to my hostel with absolutely no expectations. I’d only ever spoken to one other person who had visited Lithuania, and all I knew was that she had gone there. She didn’t elaborate, so all I knew was that I was in for some chilly weather and cheap prices.

During the first ten minutes of my walk, though, my expectations grew bleaker and bleaker. Everything was just so… grey. The sky was grey. The buildings were grey. The people seemed grey, bundled and braced against the cold and the greyness. I remembered my mom talking about her visit to St. Petersburg some twenty-five years ago, and she always talked about how ‘grey’ it was. “This is what she meant!” I thought to myself, and I slumped a bit, wondering why I had decided to come to this place at all.

All a bit dramatic, I know. And just after the ten minute mark of my walk from the bus station, I came across a little store with quilted stuffed animals and trinkets hanging in the windows and a sign reading “Handmade Souvenirs!” on the door. I ventured inside to find a store filled with homemade stuffed animals, small quilted figurines, and almost too much adorability to handle. I asked the man in the store if he made the products, and he said, “My wife, but I help sometimes.” Then, after a few minutes of chatting, he said he needed to get back to work, and soon enough, he was zooming along on the sewing machine! So cute! I bought a couple things, and as I walked out the door, it was like I had walked through some magical portal. Suddenly everything was full of color and life. The streets were nearly empty, but that only added to the strange, quaint magic that this city held, whispering the secrets of its past to me as I crossed the cobbled streets and ran my hand along cracked building walls.

My hostel was also adorable. Free waffle breakfasts and lots of little cozy places to hang out. I collapsed in a loungy-beanbag chair while I waited to check-in, and then I set off for lunch. I had passed a little Italian place with a tempting deal posted outside – soup and pasta for eight euros. I know, I know. I should really calm down with all the Italian food in non-Italy, but it’s just so cozy, cheap, and guaranteed to fill me up. My expectations were exceeded with the little restaurant, though.

Turned out the soup and pasta deal also included wine!!! I was brought some bread that was amazing. I actually moaned a bit on my first bite – I was so hungry, and it was so savory and wonderful. The soup was some sort of pureed green vegetable soup with homemade croutons and a generous swirl of olive oil sitting on top.

Dude. I cannot explain how mouthwatering this soup was. The bits of olive oil in the first few bites caused flavor explosions in my mouth, and the homemade croutons were soaked in more of the same. Plus, this was a huge bowl of soup! I considered telling the cute little waiter boy that I didn’t need the past after all, but I decided against it. Ugh. This soup was so good. I just wish I knew what was in it, haha.

Next, the waiter brought out a huge bowl of spaghetti Bolognese. I didn’t kid myself for a second, and as he placed the dish in front of me, I quickly verified that they had to-go containers, because there was no way I was going to get more than a few forkfuls of that pasta down before I would be incapacitated for the rest of the day.

Amazing. Such a good lunch. I ran back to my hostel to drop my leftovers in the fridge, but the hostel worker made the mistake of showing me to my room, and I made the mistake of lying down for a “second.” A couple hours later, I finally pried myself off the bed so that I could force myself to explore of bit of the gorgeous sunshine outside. It was hard, though. I was really, really tired, and the bed was surprisingly comfortable.

There was a church directly across the street from the hostel, but apparently, during the Russian occupation of the twentieth century, many churches were forced to close or be converted into non-religious spaces. During this time, this particular church was used as potato storage, of all things, but it has since been converted into a multi-use art and exhibition hall. I’m really not sure if I was actually allowed inside, but the door was unlocked, so I peeked around a bit and climbed some stairs before I heard voices and rushed out.

I was headed toward a viewpoint in Bernadine Park, but I was distracted by this pretty church next to the river.

And then, following my map, I crossed the river.

Little did I know that an entirely different country lay on the other side of the river. Sort of. The Republic of Uzupis is a sort of art commune, but it’s also kind of a normal neighborhood. Uzupis means “beyond the river,” so technically, everything on the other side of this river is in Uzupis. Uzupis has its own constitution, its own parliament, and until recently, it had its own army of twelve soldiers.

The thing is, the founding of the Republic of Uzupis was announced on April 1st, and the joke is that the whole thing is… kind of a joke. For example, that building up above in front of the water? That’s the parliament building, and its unofficial name is The Barliament, because, you know, it’s actually just a bar. Haha. A funny little place.

The main square of the Uzupis visitor center was adorned heavily in art and pianos. When I entered the welcome center building, a woman asked if I was going to give myself an Uzupis visa (aka: a stamp in my passport). I asked if that was actually allowed, to which she responded, “We haven’t had any problems yet!”

I wandered a little bit because the place was so cute and calming. I could imagine this would be a really cute area for a picnic date. (Where my date at?!)

I eventually wound my way back across the river to the Bernadine church complex. Very very pretty.

And I finally made it to the park! Turns out you can accomplish a lot when you start a day at six in the morning, even if the day includes a flight and a long nap.

I still can’t figure out what this sign could possibly mean. Google Translate says “blaivi zona” means “a bleak zone,” so the closest explanation I can figure is that this sign means, “You will have no bleakness in this park as long as you have carrots in your cup.”

I had a little hike through the park to get to the top of a hill crowned with three crosses, and the view was beautiful in the sunset! I had been worried about the sun setting, but the days had definitely gotten a bit longer since the start of my trip.

I stayed up there as long as I could stand the cold, but once the sun properly set, all the warmth was sucked out of the air and was replaced by a biting breeze, so I made my way back down the hill before proper darkness could set in.

I found a weird little amphitheater down the backside of the hill, and a bunch of snow remnants were still here. Kind of strange since there was really no snow anywhere else in the city. I’m guessing this little divot was just so well-shaded by the surrounding trees that it stayed nice and chilly while the rest of the city melted into an early spring. The center of the amphitheater even looked like it was coated in solid ice, and I wanted to venture down, but I didn’t trust the icy steps, and there were a few pockets of cool kids hanging out at the far reaches of the seats, so I didn’t want to give them a show if I were to biff it.

As I made my way back down to the base of the park, I saw that little fairy lightbulbs had turned on all along the park pathways.

Can you see the three crosses lit up on the top of the hill in the middle there?

Next, I did some shopping and wandering.

The end goal was the modern art museum, free on Wednesdays. (Free museums are the best!) I camped out in the little movie theater for a while and watched a man and woman talk about their experiences with the Holocaust, music, and life.

I pried myself off the comfy couches about half an hour before the museum closed so I could explore the rest of its contents.

This dude was just watching the video on display, but I couldn’t help feel he looked like part of the installation.

On my way to the museum, I had passed a super classy and affordable-looking Lithuanian restaurant, so I decided to stop there for dinner.

I had a four course meal with a shot of mead (unfortunately, ‘mead’ does not mean the same thing in Lithuania as it does in the States) for about fifteen dollars!!!! Lithuania, calm down with the delicious, cheap food!!!

The dishes included a cold beet soup with potatoes, two kinds of heron (this was my favorite dish!), a pork-stuffed potato zeppelin (one of the most traditional dishes of Lithuania, and tree cake for dessert (a crunchy treat almost like a really stiff shortbread cookie).

Properly stuffed and giggly after such an extravagant solo date, I returned to my hostel and slept heavily.

Did I mention that my hostel had free waffle breakfasts? A great way to start the day.

It was raining this morning, unfortunately, and I was in quite a rush, but I did not let either of these factors deter me from zooming out of the hostel with my waffle remnants in tow to make it for my ten o’clock free walking tour of the city.

Our tour guide’s name was Milda, and she gave one of the most interesting tours I’ve ever been a part of! I think what was so fascinating is that I really knew nothing about the Baltics before going into this trip, so almost everything she said was new information. She spoke a lot about Lithuania’s occupations by both Germany and Russia. In fact, Lithuania actually celebrates two independence days because of this, and it has been a fully independent country since 1990. She also told of the long history of multiculturalism in the city, of traveling German merchants and Russian builders, of Jews and Christians.

She also gave us a little Lithuanian lesson. She said that if we ever were unsure about a word in Lithuanian, we should just stick “as” at the end of it, and not only would it sound Lithuanian, but it would have a pretty good chance of being the proper translation, as well. She gave us some interesting examples, including the fact that Donald Trump is called Donaldas Trampas. She then joked that some places in America already sound Lithuanian: Dallas, Texas, Las Vegas, but in the Lithuanian language, they still add the extra “as:” Dalasas, Teksasas, Las Vegasas. (I’m not making these up, and I checked them – they’re real!) What a crazy world. There was honestly a part of me that thought Milda had to be joking about that last part at least.

As we continued our walk, we peeked into courtyards, walked many streets, and found our way back to Uzupis.

We went a little farther into the neighborhood than I had the day before, and Milda showed us the wall of Uzupis constitutions in thirty three different languages.

It was pretty darn cold at this point, so Milda graciously allowed us a ten minute break and pointed out a coffee shop, a grocery store, and a restaurant that sold hot wine to go. (I opted for the wine. Muahahahaha.)

We reconvened at the main square of Uzupis, marked by a still-standing Christmas tree, a water pump, and a pillar crowned with an angel.

Apparently, when the angel monument was to be revealed, the angel part of it was not yet finished, so the people of Uzupis topped the pillar with a giant egg. When the angel was finally completed, they replaced the egg with the angel and said she had been born from the egg. Quite the story.

As for the water pump, it was out of commission for the winter, but it normally provides fresh drinking water. Every April first, though, for exactly one hour, it dispenses beer instead of water, and people line up with mugs, cups, and jugs to fill to their hearts’ content!

After a bit more wandering, we came to Milda’s favorite street, known as the Literature Street. Its walls are decorated with plaques, quotes, paintings, and other works of art that reference various writers and authors who hold some tie or another to Lithuania. The small country is a bit desperate for recognition, though, explained Milda, because some of the authors made the wall simply by offhandedly mentioning Lithuania once or twice in their writings. One of them had only bad things to say about Lithuania, but I suppose they took to heart the old trope that any press is good press!

We ended our tour in the Cathedral Square, where the old palace of the Grand Dukes and the Cathedral of Vilnius are located. I wandered the cathedral and spent some time resting my feet and warming my hands before venturing back outside.

In 1989, to demonstrate to the world that the Baltic States desired their independence from Russia, some two million Lithuanians, Latvians, and Estonians joined hands in solidarity along over four hundred miles, linking the capital cities of Vilnius, Riga, and Tallinn. The star below symbolizes the starting point of this chain, and legend says that if you stand on it, spin clockwise three times, and make a wish, your wish will come true!

I climbed the bell tower of the cathedral and got some pretty views of the St. Casimir’s Day Fair booths being set up along the streets. The St. Casimir’s Day Fair is the largest craft fair in all of the Baltics, and it takes place on the first weekend in March each year. I was supposed to fly out to Riga just before the fair started, but I was considering changing my plans so I could experience this nearly five hundred year-old festival. More on that later.

Oh, and here’s me touching a bell. Pretty sure it’s not allowed, but I couldn’t resist.

I had some specific plans for the day, but all of them were going out the window. Spontaneity seemed to be the theme for the day. My next step was to grab a vending machine cappuccino and explore the Palace of the Grand Dukes, now a museum with some original palace ruins housed within.

The museum contained a lot of history on Vilnius, Lithuania, and the surrounding palace grounds. There were plenty of miniatures to show how the palace area has changed over time.

There were also suits of armor, pretty ceilings, and a viewpoint! You know I love a good view.

The funny thing is I hadn’t even wanted to see this museum. I entered on a bit of an afterthought because the entrance fee was so cheap, and I told myself I would only spend an hour or so looking around. I ended up really enjoying the exhibits, though, so I wandered without thinking much about the time.

This was all fine and dandy until my stomach reminded me that I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Its grumbles quickened my pace a little until I found myself in the main lobby again. I wasted no time following the signs for the museum café, because if I’ve learned one thing while travelling, it’s that museums very often have wonderful eateries hidden within.

This one really was a bit hidden, tucked around a long walkway and across from this old, cavernous room that seemed out-of-use.

I wanted something kind of quick, but when I saw that they sold beef stew, I couldn’t resist the temptation. Lithuania just seemed like the kind of place that would make some good beef stew. I expected to receive just a small bowl of the meaty soup, but the woman behind the counter asked if I would like potatoes or rice with the stew. I really didn’t want either, but I was caught off-guard, so I stuttered, “Uh… potatoes,” before adding a glass of yummy-looking cranberry juice and a slice of chocolate cake to my order. She rang me up at around eight dollars as another woman placed a gigantic plate in front of me piled high with a juicy, rich-looking helping of beef stew, a pile of mashed potatoes so buttery that they glistened gold, and healthy servings of pickled shredded carrots and cabbage. I tried to hide my surprise as my eyes bulged a bit, wondering if I should put the chocolate cake back, but I decided I would just turn my ‘quick snack’ into a proper dinner and enjoy myself in this strange little cavernous café.

Dude. That beef stew was so yummy. So rich, so savory, and the potatoes, carrots, and cabbage all came together to make one of the most satisfying and delicious meals of my whole trip. I found myself sitting back in my chair multiple times because I was getting so full, but I also didn’t want to let a single bite go to waste! I really need to do some experimenting to try to recreate this dish. Ugh. So stinking good. And no, I was not able to finish the whole slice of cake, haha.

After that uber-satisfying dinner, I finally made my way back outdoors so that I could climb Gediminus Tower. I had to go back through the Bernadine Park a bit before climbing the hill up to the old castle grounds.

The view was beautiful just from the hill, but I didn’t let that deter me from finishing my climb!

Because let’s be honest: the view is always better from the top!

I had the tower all to myself, and the wind was blowing everything all about. I took the opportunity to send a couple videos to people proclaiming my freedom up here in Lithuania. (It’s still pretty crazy to me that I was in Lithuania!)

This tower is just a bit closer to the city from the viewpoint of the Three Crosses, but the view was still completely different because I could see down in to the city streets and had a great view of the river.

I stayed up here as long as I possibly could, but at 5:45, a lady in a bright red coat came up to tell me she was going to lock the door, whether I was inside or not! (Okay, I don’t think staying out on the tower was actually an option, but that would have made for an interesting story.)

Though it had seemed fairly bright up on the tower, dusk had certainly set in down on the ground. I walked the ghostly streets and the early constructions for the St. Casimir’s Day fair.

I also wandered around some churches, and I tried to find the Presidential Palace, but I think I must have stumbled into some strange little side courtyard, because it was underwhelming at the time, and now that I have more reliable access to the internet, I can see that the place I saw looked nothing like the pictures online…. I suppose it might have been easier to find in the daylight.

I considered trying to see a concert that Milda had told us about, in celebration of 25 years of Lithuanian independence, but by the time I made it to the church, the tickets were already sold out. I was a little sad about that, so I shuffled back to the hostel. I sat with some of the other guests in the common area for a while, but when a giant hookah was produced out of thin air for the table’s breathing pleasure, I decided to head up to my room. It was here that I managed to meet a couple really nice guests! We ended up chatting for well over an hour. One boy was an American who was getting his PhD in physics in Rome (no big deal), another boy was from Romania, and the other girl was from Amsterdam. Quite the bunch. The physicist even gave me some sight-seeing tips for my next visit to the Tri-Cities, of all places. So that little bunch put me in better spirits, and by the time the three of them went downstairs to see what the rest of the hostel was up to, I was good and ready for bed. I had a busy day ahead of me!

I’d decided that instead of taking my midday flight to Riga, I would stick around Vilnius until the evening so I could see a nearby lakeside town and the start of the St. Casimir fair.

First thing in the morning, I was up and at ’em, shoveling down my free waffle breakfast as fast as I could before heading out into the cold, bright morning. The Town Hall Square was already bustling with people setting up their booths for the fair, and it was SNOWING. The day was already off to a magnificent start.

The little town I was visiting is called Trakai. It’s about half an hour away by bus, and it is famous for its lakes and its castle fortress. Hundreds of years ago, it served as the capital of Lithuania, but now it is just a charming lakeside town full of history.

The lakes were frozen over, the ground was covered in snow, the churches were beautiful and plentiful, and it was chiiiilllyyy. This was my coldest day since Kittila at about eighteen degrees Fahrenheit, and I was bundled extra snug for the occasion.

It was so cold, in fact, that I couldn’t resist temptation when I passed by a café-slash-chocolatieria. It took me several minutes to decide between their wide selection of hot chocolates, but I finally settled on a classic with a slice of chocolate Florentine cake on the side!

Okay. Don’t get me wrong. All the chocolate cakes I’ve had on this trip have been delicious, but almost all of them have also contained a layer of fruity jam. I don’t get it. I don’t want fruit in my chocolate cake. I just want chocolate cake!

The hot chocolate did not disappoint though. Light and creamy with tons of foam on top, it hit the spot and warmed me to the core.

It was hard to leave my comfy armchair and the warmth of the café, but I peeled myself off, wrapped myself up, and set off into the cold once more.

It really was a beautiful town with the snow and ice, and it shocked me to see a number of footprints winding their way across the surface of the frozen lakes!

Besides the castle, Trakai is also known for these colorful houses lining the main streets. The houses tend to have at least three windows facing the street as a sign of wealth from the days when window taxes were a thing.

As I crossed the bridge to the castle fortress, I met an adorable older Swedish man who took my picture, asked about my travels, and gave me a bit of travel advice. A cute little chap.

The red brick of the castle stood out beautifully against the white of the snow.

One piece of advice the Swedish man gave me was that I should pay the small entrance fee to see the castle interior and museum. “You might not like it, but if you don’t see it, you won’t know! You’re here now, so you should see it. Don’t say next time. There is no next time. You’re here now.”

Not a bad piece of advice. I was short on time, but I made the most of my quick visit to this little museum, and I wouldn’t have been able to enter the courtyard without an entrance ticket, either! So double win.

After I got all that out of my system, it was time to hurry back across the bridge. But! First, I wanted to try my hand at frozen lake walking.

I didn’t make it far, though. I was a bit of a chicken, and I only walked out a couple feet onto the ice before squealing and returning to the shore. I did this several times, trying to convince myself to walk all the way around the dock, but I finally admitted to myself that this wasn’t gonna happen, and I continued along.

The snow was really swirling down now, and it was so cold that instead of floating straight down, it swirled in endless flurries before making its way to the ground. I wound my way back through the little village, and at one point, I ran into that Swedish man again! He offered to buy me a cup of tea (at the chocolate cafe, no less), but I explained that I had to catch my bus back to town, so we exchanged nice-to-meet-yous and went our separate ways.

As we loaded onto our bus back to Vilnius, a couple of old men asked to use the under storage to hold their ice drills. Craziness. Then, about halfway through the ride, we crossed a bridge, and I was shocked to see over a dozen people just camped out ON TOP OF the river, sitting on fold-out camp chairs to fish and drilling holes in the ice! Those Lithuanians are braver than me by a long shot.

One thing I was disappointed about was that I didn’t have time to try a kibinai. These are meat-stuffed pastries local to Trakai, but I didn’t see any shops on the way into town, and as I was leaving, I was too short on time to stop. I soothed my sorrows by telling myself there was a chance I could get one at the St. Casimir’s Fair. I was delighted to see that I didn’t even have to go that far! There was a little stand in the bus station in Vilnius selling them for only a Euro a piece, and they warmed it up for me before handing me my lunch. Mmmmm it was soooo delightful. I’ve added this to the list of dishes I want to try to recreate at home.

And then it was time to explore the fair! Lots of crafts, foods, and goodies. The most traditional purchases include these crunchy ring-shaped cookies and these decorative birch branches that can be used for spiritual cleaning, I believe.

Needless to say, I was in heaven, and I was really happy that I had extended my stay so I could see this event.

It was still very cold, though, and I jumped at the opportunity for some hot chocolate, briefly forgetting the fact that I’d just had some only a few hours before. This cup was less than two dollars, and he piled it high with whipped cream and shaved chocolate!!! Even without the cozy armchair, this hot chocolate was the winner for my taste buds.

It had stopped snowing by this point, so the sun was bright on the festival. It was dizzying trying to see everything, and honestly, I know I didn’t even get close. Apparently last year, the market stalls stretched seven kilometers across the city.

I kind of had to pee, and I really wanted to warm up a bit, so I headed back to my hostel for a quick stop.

The thing is, once I sat down in one of those comfy lounge chairs, I couldn’t get back up. I ended up falling asleep like that, still dressed in my coat with my purse on!

I barely woke up in time to head to my bus to Riga, but I felt fulfilled and satisfied with my day. I wasn’t a wee bit bothered that I didn’t see the whole fair because, honestly, I didn’t need to do anymore shopping! All for the best.

On my way to the bus station, I was handed a free sample of some kind of nut ball. Was quite tasty. And then it was off to Latvia! Lithuania treated me so well. I hope to come back some day, perhaps in the summer next time. Tehehe.

Until then,
Geriausi linkėjimai/ best wishes,
-Lizzy-wa