We’ve spent the past 10 days wandering through the cobbled medieval old towns of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania.
If you had’ve asked me exactly where these three small Baltic countries were before I began plotting this overland journey, I don’t think I could have pinpointed them on a map.
As it turns out, they’ve had a significant impact on the world. An enterprising Estonian developed Skype, the software that allows you to make phone calls on the internet. (Estonia is also famous for the competitive sport of wife-carrying. I was hoping oddspot number four would be a photo of a married couple careening down a cobbled street but, as this particular photo escaped me, you’ll just have to imagine it.) Latvian pop singer Marija Naumova took home the crown in the Eurovision song contest in 2002, while Lithuania boasts Eastern Europe’s largest old town.
Visiting these countries has been a pleasure not just for their picturesque quality, but for the snapshot of history they provide. Behind the alluring old streets and colourful buildings are haunting reminders of their all-too-recent Nazi and Soviet occupation. It was only in 1991 that they won their independence again.
Each town contains a museum detailing the occupation of each country – first by the Russians, then the Nazis, before the Russians had a second go - with harrowing exhibitions that pack a punch. In Vilnius, Lithuania’s capital, we stood in the execution ward and torture chamber of the former KGB prison. The last inmate was released only in 1989, and blood still stains the building’s walls.
In Estonia’s capital Tallinn, we found ourselves admiring the outside of a tiny church when an older man opened the wooden door and stepped out of the church courtyard for a cigarette. He turned out to be the caretaker and invited us in, taking the time to give us a tour of the building. The church, the smallest in Tallinn, had been turned into an archive for secret KGB documents during the soviet era, before being restored to a church in 1991.
We spent our days wandering through the town, and also shot across to Helsinki, Finland, on the ferry for a day.
Tallinn was such a quaint, beautiful city that it was bitter sweet to leave – sweet in that we were looking forward to finally getting some sleep. The place we were staying was almost entirely populated by hippies, who thought it was fun to bang the bongo drums at 3am in the room next door. In the early hours of the morning I had elaborate plans to start a Facebook group “I hate bongo-playing hippies”. I know of at least four members in our room who would have joined immediately.
Damien, my brother, and his wife Anita left us in Tallinn to fly to Croatia, but it was no such luck for Rachael and I who jumped on yet another bus down to Riga. It never ceases to amaze me how you can hop on a bus in an Eastern European country and run into two blokes from Tumut and a couple from Geelong. In China, I even met a guy from Thirroul. Aussies are everywhere, but sometimes it is oddly reassuring to hear another Australian accent, especially if they have a secret stash of Cherry Ripes in their luggage.
Riga’s old town was almost completely demolished in WWII and, while Tallinn had been quaintly restored, Riga combines the old with the new. The city also has a definite party feel to it. We happened to be here on a weekend, when apparently all the bride and grooms-to-be in Europe fly into town and, armed with blow up dolls and rude t-shirts, walk around and proceed to drink themselves into oblivion. It’s pretty funny to watch from a roadside restaurant, although it must become tiresome for the city’s residents.
Then it was back on the bus to Vilnius, where we ran into the same group of Australians we’d seen on the bus trip two days beforehand. I’m beginning to think they’re going to tail us all the way to England…
Oddspot four: Forget the boxing kangaroo – the betting kangaroo rules in Eastern Europe. The Baltic are home to a chain of Australian-themed gambling joints called Bumerangs – yes, Bumerangs - where, according to the sign on the door, kangaroos sit around and have a slap on the poker machines. I took this picture in an underground railway station and was about to peek in the window when a burly security guard put his head out the door. I only just had time to glimpse the “No Photographs” sign as I sprinted off.
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