Thanks, Ian!
17 July 2008 0414 America/Los_AngelesAll Hail Dwight…
13 May 2008 1053 America/Los_AngelesAnd speaking of Jurmala and Latvia…
11 May 2008 1501 America/Los_AngelesRiga Report #5
0950 America/Los_AngelesMore random notes for myself concerning the trip…in the interest of full disclosure, I am consuming a Жигулевское beer while doing so.
Last weekend was the “holiday weekend”: we had Thursday off for May Day, and then Sunday marked the anniversary of the day Latvia declared independence from the Soviet Union in 1990, which meant we had Monday off as well. You already got the down-low on our trip to Sigulda, Sunday we checked out the celebration downtown.
We got off at the Esplanāde with perfect timing: as soon as we stepped off the trolleybus, the bells of the Nativity of Christ Cathedral were ringing for the start of the service there, so we got some nice shots of that:
We then stopped in Elkor Tekhnika, smotrivat’in those Russian language DVDs, yo. I haven’t seen it since, which sucks, because I was going to get it, but they actually had a Latvian version of We Are Marshall, replete with Russian subtitles. Alas, we moved on to Old Town proper and the Freedom Monument.
More good timing. There was a parade ending at the monument. [Incidentally, as a digression, we had seen Latvian soldiers were doing a changing of the guard here on May Day, in their boss (well, in my opinion, particularly for a former Soviet state) uniforms. (It's weird being surrounded by Russian speakers, then seeing these guys toting their M-16s, and realizing they're NATO members.) There was one of them kind of overseeing everything in their cool new digital cammies, too.]
OK, so, the parade. This was rinky-dink by any American standard - a parade in my hometown would have been bigger, and more crisp. But it was cool. The bizarre thing was what the bands played. We watched like three bands go by and then I perked up upon hearing “Anchors Aweigh” - fitting enough, apparently played by a Navy band. But then came “O Susanna” from another band, “Hooray for the Red, White and Blue” (!) and a couple of others I’ve already forgotten but which would be immediately recognizable by any American. Weird.
After that we took a trip over to Maskavas Nams (or Московский дом, or Moscow House) which was full of cool stuff like galleries and cafes and stuff apparently set up in part by the Russian government. Our real goal was the bookstore. I walked out with a kind of juvenile fantasy novel and a pretty book on ancient Rus, its gods, history, etc. Score.
We went back to the hotel for some rest but came back in the evening for more festivities. There was a concert near the monument - apparently they were singing nationalistic songs or somesuch, but not knowing Latvian, I was lost. We headed over to Slavū Restorans for some authentic and cheap Russian food. I had some fantastic borshch, Russkij Standart vodka and delicious salmon “Sadko” - I couldn’t pass up something named for the merchant folk-hero from Novgorod. Also fantastic - salmon stuffed with crab and prawns. Mmm…
So on our day off, we decided to head to the beach: Jūrmala, former beach refuge for tsars and Soviet party bosses. Thirty minutes on the electrichka got us to Majori, and the weather was fabulous. We walked up the promenade, paid 20 santims to use the bathroom (did I mention that pretty much all public restrooms cost money to get in?) and then we were there on the beach. We walked up it for a ways, dipped our toes in the cold Baltic Sea, and avoided looking at a couple of guys in speedos. We had another fantastic lunch at a restaurant, and then Anne decided she wanted a pedicure, so I camped across the street from the spa on the deck with a Krušovice.
Anne came back almost right away - the spa was booked - and then a cold wind blew in. It dropped like 15 degrees and the sky got dark. Next thing we know, deck umbrellas are being blown over, and the sky opens up. We high-tailed it to the train station and the weather was actually worse when we got back to Riga.
After getting back to the hotel, resting, and drying out, we walked over to the nearby Elkor and did some shopping. The Mac addict purchased a dual-alphabet keyboard with Latin and Cyrillic, and then we had another fantastic meal at their little cafe. Kind of like Ikea, I guess, with more goods, and minus the Swedish meatballs!
Riga Report #4
0734 America/Los_AngelesHappy Birthday to nothingruler
6 May 2008 0856 America/Los_AngelesRiga Report #3
4 May 2008 0915 America/Los_AngelesOK, so here I am halfway through my tenure, and I am already woefully behind on my reporting. Is anybody surprised by this?
So Anne and I finally got outside Riga and took the train to Sigulda. We hopped a bus to the Centrālajā stacijā, bought our tickets (dude, both way this was 1.66 Lats…it costs me 0.80-1.00 Lats just to cross town on a bus), and were off by a little after 9 AM. An hour and twenty minutes later (and lots of views of countryside, replete with lakeside dachas/hovels), we arrived at our destination. We walked some picturesque streets, toured a local church, and circumnavigated the “New Castle,” achieving the much more interesting (for me) “old” castle.
Sigulda Castle was built in 1207 and was one of the strongholds used by the Livonian Brotherhood to bring the love of Jesus (at swordpoint) to the hopelessly pagan Baltic Slavs. These are the guys, who, with the warm and fuzzy Teutonic Knights, went toe-to-toe with the pagans, and then the principalities of Rus, and came out on the losing end of Aleksandr Nevsky’s famous “Battle on the Ice.” But I digress. Parts of the castle were intact, although in a lot of places there remained only foundations. Still, boss.
We took a cable car across the river to Krimulda. This was pretty cool, except it was expensive, and some old German fart cut in front of us and bought like 6 tickets - we barely managed to get on board the thing. Also, for whatever reason, all the places associated with the cable cars used the font from the Star Wars logos - leave it to me to notice that.
So Krimulda appeared to be like a redneck enclave. On the other side we found wash hung out to dry, broken down cars, and a few scant signs (in Latvian, of course). One promised a cafe to our left - it lied. We headed back to the right and soon were on the ruins of another castle. This one had no markers of any kind. From here, we began a brave descent down a seemingly endless, steep stairway until we achieved the valley floor. We tried not to think about the climb back up.
Then we had a picturesque walk past several caves (notably Gutman’s Cave) for a couple of miles. It was very pleasant. But then the path kind of ended, with only a busy road leading up towards Turaida Castle. We braved it.
About halfway up, we could see the castle, and there was a slight path leading up towards it. Anne and I agreed this was the way to go. We were wrong.
Logically, castles are built where people have a hard time getting to them. This was like a cliff face or something. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a picture which captures what we climbed. We didn’t quite resort to crampons or anything, but by the time we got to the top, we were panting, sweat was pouring off of me, and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. Still, we got to the walls, “sauntered” in, and thereby avoided paying the entrance fee like all the other chumps. Plus, I can now say I went to Latvia and stormed a castle.
Turaida Castle interested me less, since most of what’s there is a brick reconstruction of structures from mostly the 17th century onwards. Still, the Livs were there in the 1200s, and I snatched up a couple of books on the castle.
We walked across the street, bought some disgusting piroshki I threw away, consulted our traveler’s guide, and then had an epiphany: a few minutes later we were on the bus back to Sigulda. No return cable car ride, no descent on Danger Road, and most importantly, no ascent of that damned stairway up to Krimulda!
A very awesome dinner at the Melnais Kaķis included mashed potatoes, which were a godsend, mozarella-and-spinach stuffed chicken breast, and a pint of Aldaris Zelta. (And of course, the ubiquitous pickles. And cukes.) We had to wait an hour for the next train back, but I called my boy briefly and the rest of the time went by quickly, thanks to the iPod. It was a little surreal watching the Latvian countryside roll by, flat as hell and covered with birch trees, while listening to my good old hillbilly music. Coming out of the station, I noticed the “Murphy roadHOUSE MR”, what TF?
We had plans for dinner, but wussed out. Anne called and said she’d be happy with her bread and jar of Erdnuss Creme. For once, I ordered room service: Vittel water and Tagliatelle with forest mushrooms and spinach.
Riga Report #2
26 April 2008 1209 America/Los_AngelesSo I was sick for the entire first week. I managed to get to class once but then tried staying in bed, which obviously was not working, so I had to contemplate the unthinkable visit to a former Soviet state health clinic. Anne I went to dinner on the clinic’s street the night before to reconnoiter; I almost ended up in the hospital early as a woman - possibly originally from Chapel Hill - used her turning car to physically push me out of a crosswalk.
Inside the ARS Clinic (the name was auspicious, I guess), I was heartened by the presence of Tree Witch-like homeopāts, although I was there to see Dr. Lasma Četverga. A security guard directed me to the second floor, where I took a number (not unlike the Maryland MVA) and waited to be registered. I only waited a couple of minutes before being called up, presenting my passport and given my little patient book. See the cashier, pay 15 Lats. Then down the hall and wait in one of the little eight chairs outside her office. I waited for about 45 minutes, and was glad she spoke halting English. She hooked me up with the prescription for meds and then sent me on to the phlebotomist, X-ray (this necessitated another trip to registration) and pharmacy. Saw two Mormons. Grand total: just over $103 and 2 hours.
(I gave everyone the standard “I am an American and speak Russian poorly” intro, and they were almost universally nice and patient with me. The phlebotomist said it was good I was studying Russian, since we needed more Americans speaking Russian. Some random woman who sat next to me in radiology said I spoke Russian “without an accent, and usually Americans sound like Americans.” The woman who did my X-ray, on the other hand, was a drill instructor immune to my charm: “Идите суда! Садитесь! Голова здесь! Рот открыт!”)
Armed with the finest antibiotics made by GlaxoSmithKline, I was starting to feel a little better. Anne and I had discovered that the jazz club in our hotel was hosting Very Cool People, a native Rigan jazz/funk band. Lamenting once again that certain funk lovers were not there, we enjoyed a good show nevertheless.
Riga Report #1
25 April 2008 1826 America/Los_AngelesOK, so I have some catching up to do, but I will begin to detail my experiences in Riga. As in Latvia. Where I am studying Russian.
So my friend Anne and I got on a plane in Baltimore on Saturday. Typically, our flights to Riga and back involve no less than six flights on four airlines involving five airports. But anyway.
Yours truly came down with a “throat thing” which became a “head thing” the night before I was to leave. So once I got on the airplane, massive discomfort set in. I can think of no greater torture than that trans-Atlantic flight: if 6.5 hours of being packed like chattel in the middle seat (thanks, KLM!) wasn’t bad enough, the agony of my lower back and the heavy head cold put it over the top. But it gets better! With my congestion, the last 15 minutes of descent became an ear-piercing pressure torture. I didn’t hear normally until we were at altitude flying to Riga, and then I got to repeat the whole ear torture again. My hearing was restored, I think, on Monday.
Many people have their bags waiting for them when they arrive. Anne did. My month’s worth of baggage was nowhere to be seen. The nice people at Riga Airport took down my info and sent me on with a complimentary toiletry bag, replete with a white t-shirt and two horrible black tube socks.
We got in a Mercedes with some shady-looking Russian guy, and halfway to the airport, we enjoyed waiting an additional ten minutes while he changed a flat tire. While he was doing so, Anne noted the half-empty bottle of vodka under his seat.
We checked into the hotel without incident, although in keeping with the motif here, Anne got a bigger room with a better view (for the same price).
But all’s well that ends well, for even though I skipped the first day of class because I was sick and had nothing to change in to, my baggage made it by mid-morning Monday. Anne and I also found a very cool little place to eat and enjoyed our first “real” meal in Latvia.
So all the signs are in Latvian, being the official language, but I have seldom heard it spoken. Almost everyone speaks Russian. Including the doctors at the clinic I went to here. But I’ll save that for another post.
