Food, glorious food... and a bit of travel!!!

Ingrida explains
Latvian weights

Climbing off the bus in Ventspils, I was met by the always smiling, super hospitable, friendly and chatty Ingrida. Ingrida and her daughter Marija live in Ventspils, a small port city on the Latvian coast, a bumpy three hour bus ride out of Riga, and home to an array of weird, yet wonderful surprises dotted throughout the streets and parks of the small city. Home for the next few nights was Ingrida’s quaint and homely cottage, in the outskirts of the city, and filled to the brim with family photographs, souvenirs, knick-knacks, flowers and food, all surrounded by her beautiful garden – quite the impressive view from her cottage kitchen window!

The BEST cheese EVER!

The cottage has been in Ingrida’s family for many years, and although it has no bathroom, plumbed water or mains gas, has to be one of the most welcoming, warm and comfortable places I have stayed. I was greeted on my first afternoon with a wonderful hot stew for lunch, straight off the wood stove, and accompanied perfectly with delicious dark Latvian bread and butter – and this was just the start of the food!!! Throughout my days in Ventspils, I was incredibly spoilt with amazing Latvian food, happily devouring my way through loaves of dark, seeded bread, multiple desserts, chocolate, coffee, cheese, wine, more cheese, a bit more cheese, and hot cooked breakfast, accompanied by yet more bread… and more cheese of course! The food was ‘sensational’, cooked and consumed beside the wood stove in the small kitchen, and made better only by the interesting, challenging and thought provoking conversations that went with it.

A cow... with a tap!

My first afternoon in Ventspils was spent with Ingrida, walking the streets of the city she so proudly calls home, learning about the history of shipping in the port, the history of the city throughout the rule of the Soviet Union, and more recently, the city’s transformation into an amazing, unique and exciting tourist destination. I don’t think I will offend anyone by saying Ventspils is not a ‘typical’ tourist destination, with much of the town taken up by huge, dirty and boring docks, factories and silos, yet somehow Ventspils has managed to embrace it’s industrial backdrop, and turn itself into something fascinating and full of surprises. The streets of the city are filled with sculptures, fountains, flowerbeds and gardens. The wharf – which spans the length of the town – has been converted from a docking space for ships, into a well presented, planned and incredibly interesting walkway, filled with novelty seats, bins, sculptures and giant multi-coloured cows, and the old-town market square boasts an impressive clock, containing a number of bells which play anything from traditional folk music to Lady Gaga on the hour.

   

 

My second day in town saw my petite, athletic frame perched atop a bicycle, as I took on some of the many bike paths and parks of the city. What was once industrial wasteland is now an ‘Anchor Park’, containing 25+ ship anchors, all landscaped amongst gardens, lawns, play equipment and duck ponds, and the former rubbish dump has been converted into a professional winter ski-slope, with a continually growing pile of landfill forming the perfect slope once snow begins to fall in winter. The city’s magnificent sand dunes lead on to a white-sand beach, now home to a number of basketball rings, monkey bars, climbing frames and permanent gym equipment, and the once-bland breakwater leading out to the city’s lighthouse has been transformed with local school students covering the concrete monstrosity with graffiti and artwork, and a huge blue and white cow encouraging tourists to make the journey out into the elements. The surprises never end, the fun never stops, and just when you think you’ve seen everything the city has to offer, you’ll stumble upon yet another novelty touch most cities around the world are too scared to embrace. If Ventspils can turn a bland, industrial wasteland into a bustling, interesting and one-of-a-kind tourist draw-card, I don’t know what Adelaide is waiting for!

My last night was spent with Ingrida and Marija in a local restaurant (a former seamstress’ shop, in which guests now sit at singer sewing machines to eat their meals – very cool!), enjoying local delicacies, way too much dessert, and some great conversation. I have never in my life met someone quite as unique, as passionate, and as wonderful as Ingrida – and I very much thank her for having me to stay. Her house is a remarkable place, filled with the things treasured most – yet it is not glamorous, it’s not big, and it lacks the western comforts I would never consider living without. However, Darryl Kerrigan aside, I would be hard pressed to find someone as proud of their heritage, culture and way of life as Ingrida, and someone who brings such love and joy to those people lucky enough to have her in their lives. Every day my travels make me realise how very lucky I am to live in Australia, how much I take for granted, and how important it is to appreciate the small things in life, and my time in Latvia certainly reinforced the importance of valuing what we do have. Like all of us on this world, Ingrida has a story, and I feel incredibly privileged and humbled that she chose to share part of it with me, and that even if for only a few days, I got the opportunity to share mine with her.

Reluctantly saying goodbye to Ingrida and Marija, I made my way south to Klaipeda, Lithuania, where I met Ruta – a bubbly, energetic and incredibly interesting university student studying on the Lithuanian mainland, and my host for the next few nights on Lithuania’s magnificent Curonian Spit. The Curonian Spit is a roughly 1km wide peninsular off the west coast of Lithuania, running about 50km from the ferry crossing in Klaipeda, right down to Nida, a town overlooking the Baltic Sea, and Kalingrad (Russia) just 1km across the water to the south. The spit is accessed from the mainland by ferry, and is a 31,000 hectare National Park and wildlife sanctuary, home to an estimated 200 species of birds and animals, and the perfect place to recuperate and rest after all of my Ventspils eating! The sheltered coast of the spit is lined with impressive sand dunes, and the entire length is connected with hiking trails, bike paths and the one busy road, linking the spit’s four towns.

My personal beach mansion

Ruta met up with me on the ferry across to the spit, explaining the challenges of living in such an amazing, yet hard to access location, and entertaining me with stories about her childhood in the national park, her daily hitch-hike to uni, and the history of the spit in Lithuanian and Soviet times. The local bus took us hurtling through some of the most beautiful forest scenery, following the sheltered coast of the spit to Ruta’s hometown of Juodkrante. A small village set along the banks of the Curonian Lagoon, Juodkrante is a beautiful, quaint and very well presented town, comprising a mix of local homes, holiday houses, and beach mansions, all linked by stunning tree-lined streets, winding paths, and a sprawling foreshore boardwalk. With grandparents in town to stay, Ruta had her hands full at home, and kindly handed me the keys to their holiday home down the road – a massive, beautiful wooden two-storey beach mansion right on the edge of the national park, and overlooking the town cemetery, forest and beach below. Settling into my personal beach mansion, I was spoilt with grandma’s cooking for dinner, before taking a stroll along the foreshore, and into ‘Raganu Kalnas’, a wooden sculpture park winding through the forest just outside of town.

Foley and Rachelle get married...
Lithuanian wood carving style!

Rain forced me to be lazy on my second day in Juodkrante, however I did manage to pull myself away from the luxuries of mansion living to catch the bus to Nida, the town perched right on the end of the spit, a mere 600m from the Russian territory of Kaliningrad. Stuffing my face with amazing Lithuanian food, I then spent a few hours walking the beautiful streets of the town, checking out the intricate hand carved wooden headstones of the local cemetery, and strolling along the beach, surrounded by flocks of birds all helping themselves to what was left over of the local fishermen’s daily catch, before heading back to Juodkrante to make the most of my luxurious living!

I was up early on my last morning on the spit, heading out of town to explore the forest, the beach on the exposed side of the peninsular, and the famous sand dunes of the national park. Having hiked through the towering trees of the forest, I found myself completely alone on what must be one of Europe’s best white-sand beaches, seemingly cut off from the rest of the world by the impressive sand dunes, and scattered with all kinds of weird and wonderful creatures and debris washed in on the tide. The sand stretched on as far as I could see, following the spit around to the south toward Kaliningrad, and I followed the beautiful beach around, before cutting back across the forest, and heading inland toward the much talked about 70m tall sand dunes, and the sheltered banks of the lagoon.

LITHUANIA!

The other side of the spit was a drastic contrast to the white sand, blue waves and coastal breeze of the open water, and I soon found myself wandering along a sheltered bay, surrounded by thousands and thousands of birds, flying high in the sky in formation, circling overhead, or paddling in the shallow water and wetlands of the bank. The trees teemed with the squawking and singing birdlife, providing the most impressive soundtrack to my now quite epic walk, and the flocks of birds were constantly busy rearranging themselves on the sand, darting off in a flurry of feathers, only to return moments later in seemingly the same positions as when they had taken off. Making my way back to say my emotional goodbye to the beach mansion and comforts contained within, I headed to the ferry, back to the hustle and bustle of the mainland, and my train to the Siauliai, home of ‘The Hill of Crosses’.

‘The Hill of Crosses’ is an incredibly impressive catholic pilgrimage site, located in Siauliai, a small city in central Lithuania. The first history of the hill dates back to the 14th century, and while I had never heard of it until my travels through the Baltic countries, the hill is becoming quite the tourist destination. No one knows why the hill was started, why it is located where it is, and how many crosses are now to be found, but there is one thing that I think no one could disagree on – it’s pretty impressive!

Walking toward the site just after sunrise, I was greeted with the most amazing silhouette against the clear sky, as the incredible collection of crosses came into view. The crosses stretch approximately 60m across, with the small hill rising above the flat ground below, creating an amazing, powerful and overwhelming display – no wonder Pope John-Paul chose to visit in 1993. 2006 estimates put the cross count at around 20,000, however every day, hoards of pilgrims and tourists alike pile more and more crosses onto the hill, often hanging small crosses from larger ones. I spent over two hours wandering through the many small walkways, staircases and tunnels on the hill, blown away by the number of crosses, the number of countries represented, the words and passages which adorned many of the crosses, and the obvious importance of the hill to Catholics, and in fact all religions today. Unsurprisingly, my travels have raised many questions about the importance and relevance of religion in society today, and in many cases I have seen how damaging religion, and religious practice can be to people, societies and communities. However, when faced with thousands and thousands of crosses, laid peacefully by thousands and thousands of people, somehow the negativity and destructiveness of religion can so easily be forgotten, and the true power and potential of a shared belief is so evident and clear.

From Siauliai I made my way to Vilnius, home to Angela – a great fun, warm and welcoming English teacher from the US, working in Lithuania for two years. Angela’s place is right in the middle of the Old Town, surrounded by great café’s, restaurants and tourist sites, and was the perfect place to spend a few days casually wandering the cobbled streets of the city, the quirky shops of the town, and the various galleries and museums the city has to offer. Our evenings were spent enjoying the mild weather, sitting outside amongst hundreds of tourists and locals, all ready to thoroughly thaw out after a long, freezing winter.

Trakai Castle

Along with Zoe (an Australian teacher, working with Angela), we took a day trip out of town, heading to the beautiful Lake Trakai, where we spent a day walking around Trakai Castle and the banks of the beautiful lake, stuffing our faces with great Lithuanian food, recovering from our indulgence with a lazy afternoon lying on the grass, and hiring a sailing boat (and Lithuania’s own version of Popeye to be captain!), to sit around on deck enjoying many dramatic and over the top stories of Popeye’s adventures on the calm waters of the lake… well, that’s at least what his hand gestures and body language were saying!

Oleg - Cepelinai master!

I spent the rest of my time in Vilnius enjoying the weather, leisurely walking the streets and shops of the city, hanging out in the unusual Uzupis district, visiting the sombre ‘Centre for Tolerance’, and the moving exhibition for the Jewish children of the holocaust, and devouring yet more amazing home made food – Cepelinai, a delicious footy-shaped Lithianian specialty, made of dough filled with meat and potatoes – at Zoe’s house.

With a full stomach set to last me the rest of my year, some incredible experiences and opportunities, and having met a plethora of amazing people along the way, my time in the Baltic countries was coming to an end. Catching an early morning bus out of Vilnius, I was ready for the next chapter of my journey – Poland!