Welcome to Latvia!

It's been a few cities since my last post! The day after the rainstorm the sun tried to come out in the morning, so I walked around Old Town again for a bit, but had to catch a bus to Tartu, a town about 2 and a half hours southeast of Tallinn, at 1:00, so around noon I headed back to the hostel where I'd left my bag for the morning and headed to the bus station. The bus was beautiful- a coach with comfy seats, and I had a row all to myself, so I had a lot of window gazing time. There wasn't too much to see: mostly farmland and huge stretches of hills, but every now and then we passed a little town (always with a high church steeple) or a roadside restaurant. We got to Tartu around 3:30, and I walked around a bit before going to check in. It was a small university town, so lots of young people around, sitting on the banks of a river. It was also nice and sunny, so I took advantage of that and strolled through the parks by the river, getting very very weird looks from the students sitting there. I found the hostel right in the heart of town square and checked in and dropped off my backpack. Then I headed up to the "scenic" area of town: toomemagi hill, where most of the major sights are. I crossed a famous bridge (the oldest in Tartu) and then saw, as directed by my map, a few monuments and sculptures in the park up on the hill, and the ruins of an old church that burned down. From the top of the hill, I had the most amazing view of the town and the river behind it. Once I was sufficiently hungry to treat myself to some good Estonian food, I headed back to town square. I decided to walk a few blocks away in search of a restaurant with fewer tourists than those right in the center, and eventually found one whose prices looked feasible and whose menu looked good. I ate fish, cooked in coconut milk, with potatoes, and it was absolutely delicious. I was the only one sitting outside, but it was almost warm enough and, even though I was completely alone, I enjoyed myself. I had a good view of the cobblestone streets and old buildings, and I just read my nook while I ate. Afterward, I went looking for coffee and stumbled upon a cute and cozy cafe, with good coffee and incredible desserts. I sat there for a few hours, people watching and reading, and then turned in for the night, as I had an early bus to Riga the following morning.

With dinner I had this wonderfully huge glass of wine:

I was also served an apple with my check. Voila: tomorrow's lunch!

Here's town square at night:

That clock chimed every 15 minutes all night, but it still wasn't enough to drown out the snores of the guy in the next bed.

At the bus station just before dawn (literally) I met an Estonian girl who was headed to Berlin to study for the semester, via Riga, so we chatted whole we waited for the bus, and after we got on. It was great to have someone to talk to, as Tartu had been honestly a little lonely (snoring doesn't count!). I didn't mean to, but I slept a little on the way to Riga, which was a 4 hour trip. I did see some of the countryside (lots of evergreen forests this time) and a few small towns, and the border, which was just a small sign that said "Riga". Not even as big as the signs in the US that welcome you to the next state. When we arrived, I said goodbye to the Estonian girl as she looked for her next bus and headed along the river in search of the hostel. I found it quickly, but the bed wasn't ready yet as it was only 10:00, so I just dropped my bags and headed out. It was just a little morning chilly so I thought my first stop would be a museum: the museum of the occupation of Latvia, but unfortunately found that it was closed for renovations. Foiled! So instead I took a wall along the canal, which was beautiful, and saw a few churches, lovely buildings in the city center, and some swans. I had my apple sitting in the park, and then decided to check out the central market and see what I could find there. Here's what I found: everything! The market was so huge I got lost in it, winding through clothes and books and soviet medals and DVDs and souvenirs and handbags and toys. The outdoor market also includes 6 indoor pavilions, where things like fish and meat and cheese are sold, and bread is baked. I bought apples and oranges, garlic, onions, potatoes, honey, peppers (in 2 colors!), lettuce and tomatoes, then headed to the bread bakery. I bought two loaves of delicious Uzbek naan (my favorite from Tajikistan, and something I miss every day) that were handed to me directly out of the oven. I had to stop as I was leaving to eat some immediately while it was still too hot to really touch, because the bread smell was too tempting. By then it was around 2 so, weighed down by all my groceries, I headed back to the hostel to check in. I found out there's no laundry services there so that will have to wait until Lithuania. I did take a shower, so that will have to do for now. From there I decided to head across the river, where there isn't too much to see but enough, I thought to keep me occupied. On my way, I stopped at a sun museum:

The first half was all astronomical, about how the sun was created and how it helps us, as well as some heliocentric history. Unfortunately, it was all in Latvian, so I didn't get too much out of it.

I thought photosynthesis might make more sense in Latvian, but nope.

The second part was more fun, but also more weird. Some guy just collected suns from all over the world. When he died, a museum was created and they have gone on collecting suns. Ok? That's it. A museum of suns.

From there I crossed the river where I found a park with a huge soviet monument, and then got a little lost around a construction zone. I found my way onto a small island in the river where the wealthiest of Riga's population live and there is a memorial to Zanis Lipke, a man who saved 55 Latvian Jews during the Second World War. I followed weirdly sketchy signs to a building painted entirely black, where I read that the memorial was closed for the day. Foiled again! Feeling defeated and exhausted, I headed back across the river (it's a long, long way and a wide wide river) and back to the hostel, where I had dinner and lounged around with a few other guests for the evening, watching weird national geographic programs.

The next day I slept in, then went out for breakfast (provided by the hostel). I was sitting planning my day when another guest asked what I was doing that day. When I told her I was just figuring that out, she suggested the occupation museum, saying "it's very close- we went there yesterday!" And I responded "no you didn't, it's closed for renovations". She convinced me that she wasn't lying, so I put it on my to do list. I spent the morning exploring the northern part of Old Town: a tower and gate that were part of the wall (which, unfortunately, has not been maintained as well as the one in Tallinn), a few old churches, which have had to be restored since their destruction during the soviet eras, and a castle, which really was under construction and, as skeptical as I was, I was not allowed in. After wandering to my heart's content (but not so far south as to step on the toes of my southern old town day!) I headed to the river bank to have lunch by the dock. From there I debated about returning to the memorial on the other side (have I mentioned how wide that river is?). I finally decided to go for it, and I am so glad I did. Anyone thinking of planning a trip to Riga, you must see this memorial. It might have been my favorite part of the trip so far.

Again I headed down the road through these beautiful houses where I know the wealthy Rigans live, and found the fence post that says simply "Zanis Lipke memorial" with an arrow that looks like it leads up someone's driveway. Then I found the black building (no closed sign today!) and tried the door: locked. I saw that there was a bell, and rang it, then was buzzed into a dark hallway. The building was all wooden, and the inside too was painted black (even the floor) and the only light was what came in through the cracks in the boards. I turned a hallway: same thing. I wondered briefly if I was going to be mugged or kidnapped, considered running, then remembered that I had been buzzed in so they knew I was there. It was the eeriest place I have ever been. I came to a door, which I opened and came into a somewhat lighter area (still wooden and painted black and only natural lighting) and I was met there by a guy who said something in Latvian. When I responded that I did not understand, he said "in English?" And I said "please" and he told me to follow him. We went up a flight of stairs, into a small room (still wood, still black) that was still lit only by cracks in the walls and ceiling, but also by a few podiums along the walls, and one raised platform in the center, that were all dimly illuminated. He told me that he didn't speak English very well, but that his English colleague was with someone else, so he would try. And then he was my personal guide through the memorial. He told me that the atmosphere was designed to be just like the bunker where the rescued people stayed, that it should be only naturally lit, that the sounds should be only silence and tiny whispers, and whatever could be heard from the outside world, and that even the smell (of wood) should be represented. Then we started off. We went first to the platform in the center of the room, and I realized that it was not a platform but a hole with raised walls, that looked down three stories. Lining the walls were wooden beds: this was to represent the bunker, he said. Then we moved on to the stations lining the walls. Each station was representative of something different. One was dedicated to the 55 rescued people: a list of their names, with their signatures. One was for the people who helped Zanis: friends, neighbors, drivers. One was for the Israeli honor he has since received. One was a collection of letters written to him by each of the people he saved, in gratitude after the end of the war. Then there was one station for each member of his family: his wife, who cooked for the people in the bunker, and each of his three children, one of whom was only 9 when he helped to build the bunker. Part of his exhibit included a drawing he had done at that age of what he thought the bunker should look like. Then there was one of Zanis himself, and my absolute favorite part (except perhaps the drawing, and the atmosphere of the memorial) was newly added just a few weeks ago. In going through hospital records from after the war, the creators of the memorial found a cardiogram taken from Zanis, which a composer used to create a heartbeat, which played softly in the area of that station. What an incredible way of humanizing and personalizing him: it was the part that affected me most, I think. When we had visited all the stations, the guide led me down a back set of stairs, from where we could look into the bunker  at eye level. The walls were painted with scenes of the Latvian countryside. Then I was taken outside into a gated yard. The guide pointed to a yellow house just a few yards away. "That is where Zanis and his family lived" he said "and his descendants still do. The bunker we just saw is the bunker the people stayed in, and the memorial was built around it." Then he sent me home. I was absolutely in disbelief; the entire time I was there he talked about the bunker as though it were a replica, just to help guests understand. If you go to Riga, see this memorial. I hope I have come close to doing it justice.

Upon leaving the memorial, I did go to the occupation museum (walking right past the sign that said "closed for renovations"). It was interesting, and everything was in English, so it was a good Latvian history lesson. It's interesting to compare with the versions of the 20th century that I read about in Moscow and St. Petersburg! Then I went back to the hostel for dinner. I visited a couple bars in Old Town in the evening. The first was clearly meant for tourists (and which I was roped into visiting by a persistent host who literally led me by the arm to a chair because I couldn't think of an excuse to leave), which had an American cowboy theme. Sorry, but I just don't believe that "Rock n Roll Ribs" are a traditional Latvian dish, no matter what your menu says. The second, though, felt authentic. At least, it was filled with Latvian university students who all seemed to know each other and were extremely friendly. The atmosphere was weird, at first: the tiny space, the couches, and the pool table with ripped up felt made it seem a little like a house party, but I relaxed a little once people started talking to me, and then I really enjoyed it.

Today (I know this is a long one but I'm almost done, I swear!) I took the train to a town called Sigulda, about an hour and a half from Riga and on the edge of a national park. While on the train I noticed that the two men sitting in front of me were speaking English, and when they asked the man sitting across from them if we had passed Sigulda yet, I decided to help them out, and let them know that we were probably still about 20 minutes away. When they found out I was going the same place they were very friendly. They were from England, a father and son (approximately 65 and 40, I would guess) traveling together on their annual trip together that they have been making for years (dad? Sound like a good idea?) and when we got off they invited me to spend the day with them. I agreed, and we set off (they insisted we stop for tea first). We headed toward the two castles in the town, from which we had great views over the valley, and then headed across it by cable car. In the car was a French girl, about my age, who had been just a few steps ahead of us all day, so we added her to our strange group. Across the valley, we did a little hiking to see a cave, and few old buildings, but our primary objective was the Turaida museum reserve, a little north of Sigulda. There, we found some beautiful gardens, a little wooden church, and a castle to play in. Then, the English people left to catch their train home (I hadn't bought a return ticket and I wasn't ready to leave) and the French girl (Patricia) and I continued wandering, and hiked a little down into the valley. It was beautiful, but I think we were both pretty tired (it had been a 6 mile walk up to Turaida) so we caught the next bus back to Sigulda. Unfortunately, the train to Riga had just left and there wasn't another one for an hour and a half, so we wandered a little around the cute shops and houses until it got to be about time to head to the train. We boarded and are on our way back I Riga now. I'm exhausted but happy after a long day out of the city; ready to see the rest of the Old Town tomorrow... I head to Kaunas, Lithuania on Sunday!