South to Latvia

The ferry ride from Helsinki to Tallinn was uneventful, outside of it being canceled. Luckily, they had another an hour later, and I still made my bus. Just was sorry to miss that extra hour of sleep, and was sorry to miss my coffee with Steven.

The bus turned out of the ferry terminal, passing Fat Margaret, the city gates, the opera house, auditorium, and other sites I had become familiar with in Tallinn. There must be money in Tallinn, because we also passed a new Maserati coupe.

Heading south, I watched the man in the seat across from me try to find a comfortable position while reading his worn-out paperback translation of an Agatha Christie novel. Rain came off and on, precluding much picture-taking from inside the bus. Not much in the way of population between Tallinn and Parnu, only the occasional farm house, the old man carrying an empty bucket back from his cow, the woman in a dress, overcoat and scarf pushing a wagon.

Parnu was large enough to rate a Mercedes dealership, but we seemed to skirt just one edge of it. It was, like Tallinn, also polluted with the ugly Soviet-era apartment blocks on the edges of the city, though these seemed more worn and mildewed.

The border crossing was pretty uneventful, save for the rowdies in the rear of the bus who raised an eyebrow with the border patrol. What bits of the conversation I picked up, I would guess they had just come off of several months on a ship. I've learned that being a US citizen rather than an EU citizen slows you down at the borders. The lady had to take my passport back into the station to stamp and perhaps register. The EU citizens were just looked at and given back promptly.

Coming through Latvia, I realized quickly that the roads were in worse shape, and the Soviet-style buildings were even more present. Coming into Riga was one of the saddest city entrances I've had: mile after mile of neglected flats, grey skies, a country still seeming to be reeling from 60 years of Soviet occupation.

The Occupation Museum in the old town tells the story, and it's not pretty. Occupied by the Soviet Union, "liberated" by the Nazi's, ceded back to the Soviets (along with Estonia and Lithuania) after World War II when the west didn't have the backbone to stand up to Stalin. The USSR decimated any kind of leadership and resistance in the population here, and their presence was catastrophic to the people their culture and economy. Finally set at liberty following the 1991 coup attempt in Moscow. 500,000 Latvians were killed, deported or fled; the population is now 1/3 to 1/2 Latvian, the rest Russian. Many sent to gulags in Siberia, then their homes taken over by Russians sent here to work. You would think after 45 years they would have been beaten, but at one point near their day of freedom a line of people joined hands from Tallinn to Riga to Vilnius to show solidarity and demand liberty. I'm retracing that road, by accident, and let me tell you, it's a long way and a whole lot of people.

Getting into old Riga today was a sunnier experience. Riga is not nearly as far along in their recovery as Tallinn, but I spotted an Aston Martin this afternoon, plates JB007. Another sign that money is in town. I'm staying out at Jurmala (yur'mala}, an old resort area that served the Soviets and is slowly being refurbished. Thankfully, my hotel is one of the places that has been redone. The town spreads up the coast for maybe 15 miles, mostly old wooden houses that were pretty grand in their day. Reminds me a bit of Lakeside, Ohio on Lake Erie.

A cold wind is blowing here off of the Baltic Sea, and it tempts me to curtail my site seeing. I'm going to hop the tram back to Jurmala, though, and walk over the the ocean and around town a bit before calling it a day.

Tomorrow, the bus to Vilnius. I hope to upload some pictures from there.

JP