Balt up

We were up before 3 am to take a taxi then a bus to Stansted Airport - when you add up the actual cost of so-called "cheap flights" (out-of-hours travel) and the opportunity cost (lost sleep), you begin to wonder whether paying a few extra squids next time is not such a bad idea. Still, we can not complain, particularly when we get to see so many wonderful places.




The capital of Estonia, Tallinn, has a great medieval Old Town and we loved every minute of our time there as we walked around its 'Yea Olde' cobbled streets. We stayed in the University district a short way out of town and had to take a 'trolley' (a bus on wires like a tram). Initially, we were unable to distinguish the trolley stops but after a couple of days, shuttling back and forth, we discerned the name of our stop: "Lipstick fanny-smacking eight times a day".




Our hostel room had an Internet connection so we ‘skyped’ everyone we could think of (get Skype if you don't already have it!) and undertook some important last minute planning for our foray into Russia. We bought tickets for an overnight bus that did not leave until just prior to midnight. In an effort to fill in time on the day of departure, we treated ourselves to a Chinese meal and the cinema ('Charlie ja Shokolaadivabrik') - then after all the fun we nearly missed the bus to St Petersburg.

We did make it to Russia in the end but only just made it out again. We took the overnight train to Latvia and in our four-bunk berth were two Aussies from Melbourne: Justin and “G’day, my name’s Bruce”. We engaged in some stimulating conversation about travelling, sitting knee-to-knee until midnight before we prostrated ourselves in an effort to sleep.

At around 4 am, with lungs aching from diesel fumes, we stirred to find ourselves stopped at the border. The train was prevented from leaving on account of Bruce and Weisies’ questionable passports. Bruce’s passport, which was issued in India with his photo simply stuck inside the front page, was handed back after a few minutes of inspection. Weisie’s passport, however, was passed around to several officers who went over it with a black light, front-to-back, back-to-front and upside-down. The passport was a little banged up from frequent use and they therefore decided that it was ‘not in order’. It was cold and dark, and we were not keen on being left at the border to fend for ourselves. Everything we had read in our guide book told us this was a bluff (an income supplementing exercise) so we remained cheerfully obtuse and eventually they gave up, leaving us to journey on in sleepless peace.




We liked Riga although it faced stiff competition when compared with the likes of Moscow, St Petersburg and even Tallinn. The Old Town architecture was marvellous and as usual we snapped away happily at all of its landmarks. We paused one afternoon in a park and fed a dropping of pigeons (well, they helped themselves to our lunch, actually). The pigeons were so brash that they landed on our arms and shoulders (and my head) to peck at crumbs.




Friends of ours recently visited Riga and considered it to be a great place to party. We were not in the mood (or the money) to go out on the town, but we did treat ourselves to a wonderful meal at the omnipresent Lido chain of buffet-style restaurants. We ordered far too much and paid way too little for a small banquet. It was excellent food and a great way to finish our time in Riga. We would recommend it.

The remaining capital of the Baltic region, Vilnius, is on the itinerary for later this year.