Never mind the Baltics...
After we left Riga we headed for a town called Ogre because I'm a sucker for an amusing place name. It turned out to be aptly named, in that it was big and ugly. I'd had 
enough of Latvia's impossible roads by now so we decided to head for the border but even that proved traumatic. Every road we went down ended up being a dirt track. They even have a special sign to tell you that tarmac is coming to an end! At one point we were driving down a gravel track in a forest for an hour – on the map, this was a main road to a not insubstantial town. We crossed the border into Lithuania in a little town called Skaistkalne. The second we entered Lithuania the roads improved ten-fold and driving the van became enjoyable again.
Now, we weren't sure what the unit of currency was for Lithuania but it turns out it's a Lita, pronounced exactly the same as litre. Of course, the first time we found this out was trying to buy fuel just over the border. The confused conversation with the petrol attendant that followed was like a badly written sitcom…
"How much is that?"
"100 litas"
"100 litres? So, how much is that?"
etc, etc, ad infinitum.
In trying to change some of our Latvian Lats into Lithuanian Litas, we have also discovered that our conversion rates and calculations for Latvia were all wrong. This means that we are slightly more over budget than we thought. And, more importantly, it means that my 30p lager actually cost 50p! Outrageous.
We headed to Siauliai, a pleasant town in need of a couple more consonants, just to the north of which lies Kryziu Kalnas – the Hill Of Crosses. This is a famous Lithuanian landmark. It's a small hill smothered in literally bazillions of crosses and crucifixes of every conceivable size, shape and material. It is a surreal sight to behold. People have been planting crosses here for hundreds of years, firstly as a holy thing, then a defiant thing (the USSR bulldozed it a few times), then as a symbolic thing (their liberty) and now as a sort of touristy thing. It's a shame because while you meander through cross after weathered cross that people have hand-made and brought here over the years, wondering about the stories behind
each one, you are constantly distracted by the sheer volume of cheap souvenir crucifixes that have been bought at the gift shop they've built next door. Busloads of people buy a little cross, write a message on it and toss it on the pile. It kind of spoils it a bit. In places it's a very moving and poignant place to stand – in others I was made angry because "Shane loves Mitzi".
After a night camped by a pond, we drove down impeccable roads to Vilnius. Vilnius is yet another lovely capital city with a cobbled old town, myriad churches, a castle ruin and a history of Soviet oppression. There was a danger that after Tallinn and Riga this was all becoming bit "samey". But that was about to change…
As we discovered in Riga, the Baltic states go large for Summer Solstice. And Claire and I were after a good night out. So imagine our joy when, right next to our campsite, they held a Solstice festival! A night of dancing, singing, silly headwear, free food and cheap beer ensued. There was a Wicker Man style procession of torches culminating in a huge bonfire being lit. Lithuanian pop sensation Mino played and at one point I joined him on stage – yes, I was that drunk. And to top the night off, there was a bizarre rave act made up of what looked like two old waiters on accordion and synths and a confused girl on tambourine. Brilliant. We had a good old jig with the locals and even got involved in a Lithuanian dance-off. Another great night of drunken fun with badly dressed locals. In a field.
enough of Latvia's impossible roads by now so we decided to head for the border but even that proved traumatic. Every road we went down ended up being a dirt track. They even have a special sign to tell you that tarmac is coming to an end! At one point we were driving down a gravel track in a forest for an hour – on the map, this was a main road to a not insubstantial town. We crossed the border into Lithuania in a little town called Skaistkalne. The second we entered Lithuania the roads improved ten-fold and driving the van became enjoyable again. Now, we weren't sure what the unit of currency was for Lithuania but it turns out it's a Lita, pronounced exactly the same as litre. Of course, the first time we found this out was trying to buy fuel just over the border. The confused conversation with the petrol attendant that followed was like a badly written sitcom…
"How much is that?"
"100 litas"
"100 litres? So, how much is that?"
etc, etc, ad infinitum.
In trying to change some of our Latvian Lats into Lithuanian Litas, we have also discovered that our conversion rates and calculations for Latvia were all wrong. This means that we are slightly more over budget than we thought. And, more importantly, it means that my 30p lager actually cost 50p! Outrageous.
We headed to Siauliai, a pleasant town in need of a couple more consonants, just to the north of which lies Kryziu Kalnas – the Hill Of Crosses. This is a famous Lithuanian landmark. It's a small hill smothered in literally bazillions of crosses and crucifixes of every conceivable size, shape and material. It is a surreal sight to behold. People have been planting crosses here for hundreds of years, firstly as a holy thing, then a defiant thing (the USSR bulldozed it a few times), then as a symbolic thing (their liberty) and now as a sort of touristy thing. It's a shame because while you meander through cross after weathered cross that people have hand-made and brought here over the years, wondering about the stories behind
each one, you are constantly distracted by the sheer volume of cheap souvenir crucifixes that have been bought at the gift shop they've built next door. Busloads of people buy a little cross, write a message on it and toss it on the pile. It kind of spoils it a bit. In places it's a very moving and poignant place to stand – in others I was made angry because "Shane loves Mitzi".After a night camped by a pond, we drove down impeccable roads to Vilnius. Vilnius is yet another lovely capital city with a cobbled old town, myriad churches, a castle ruin and a history of Soviet oppression. There was a danger that after Tallinn and Riga this was all becoming bit "samey". But that was about to change…
As we discovered in Riga, the Baltic states go large for Summer Solstice. And Claire and I were after a good night out. So imagine our joy when, right next to our campsite, they held a Solstice festival! A night of dancing, singing, silly headwear, free food and cheap beer ensued. There was a Wicker Man style procession of torches culminating in a huge bonfire being lit. Lithuanian pop sensation Mino played and at one point I joined him on stage – yes, I was that drunk. And to top the night off, there was a bizarre rave act made up of what looked like two old waiters on accordion and synths and a confused girl on tambourine. Brilliant. We had a good old jig with the locals and even got involved in a Lithuanian dance-off. Another great night of drunken fun with badly dressed locals. In a field.
What the hell is going on with that blokes nose?
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