The day we spent in Riga was mixed with emotion. We arrived at Latvia's capital a little before midday having passed through a litany of rural Lithuanian farmlands. We actually saw very little urbanization along the eleven-hour ride from Warsaw--except perhaps for the undistinguished Lithuanian city of Kaunas, halfway to our destination. The night bus from Warsaw was jam packed to the hilt. The one we had to transfer in Kaunas to Riga had merely a handful of other passengers, and an impatient driver who looked my son and I over and said, "You must be Vissam and Karim" in a heavy Baltic accent that betrayed a "Where the khell khav you been? All my life I am vaiting for you!"
On we got and off we went for the remaining five hour bus ride. Karim immediately went back to sleep. I went back to being awake, my body utterly refusing the notion of going to sleep when it's still light outside. "It's non negotiable Wissam!" it said loud and clear. And I'm thinking, 'Must be my ancestral farming genes getting ready to till. But where the heck are the competing Mediterranean party-all-night-and-sleep-all-day genes when you need them?!' Of course, the source of this great confusion is the sudden realization that this far north in the globe in summertime meant the sun almost never sets, even if it's four o'clock in the morning!
All would be forgotten upon our drowsy arrival at Riga's Central Station. Now Riga is situated right where the Daugava River meets the Gulf of Riga, which opens up to the Baltic Sea. A dramatically tall TV tower ride by the wide river bed welcomes the visitor, who by then is easily impresses having been numbingly bored to a near death experience with all the Lithuanian flatlands.
Once in Riga's no frill bus station station, we quickly stored the luggage and walked into town, which is a mere 800 meters away. Walking through the town, Riga appears like a quaint version of a typical northern European city such as a Prague or a Stockholm, offering a mix of history, culture, and entertainment. The downtown is where it's historical rubber hits a tourist's road with the usual milieu of cathedrals, palaces, Dutch looking town homes, and cobble-stoned streets filled with hat musicians.
Of note is Riga's roosters that sit atop several buildings, and which, if anything, are a proxy to its historic ups and downs. One particular structure, the St. Peter Cathedral, for instance, had its cupola's rooster blown to smithereens no less than six times over the past few hundred years. The latest culprits in the rooster-busting saga are the usual suspects of Nazis and Soviets and whose occupations appear to have left a deep mark on Riga's psyche as evidenced by the numerous museums and monuments.
One structure which rises above the fray is a massive public library shaped slice a big triangular shape, which aside from representing an architectural marvel is a manifestation to education and the empowerment of people. A particular section titled the People's Stacks invites ordinary people to submit their favorite books to be safeguarded and shared. A nice touch. What better way to bury the past than to build a new future ...
For lunch as usual I outsourced the decision to Karim whose culinary research often lands us in memorable places. He wouldn't disappoint this time either as he guided us through the city to a medieval restaurant that offered a taste of the 14th century. Skeptical at first and fearful that the food would have been kept on storage since, I complained to my son, who steadily responded, "Don't worry Dad I've done the research." He was right. The venison and onion soups were delicious so was the sea trout filler smoked on wooden chips, which apparently. This last dish had tickled the fancy of non-other than Constance, King Louis of France's sister who is said to have been culinarily quite fastidious.
In the afternoon we went to see the games on a large TV in the center Square and what games they proved to be. In the first, we were seated next to an Argentinian contingent. What an emotional bunch. The lady next to us was giving Messi instructions the whole game; clearly he wasn't listening, which is precisely why Argentina ended up being ousted by France. Uruguay did better in the second game. I have been eyeing this team for a while now. If one team, could pull an upset, it would be Uruguay. They in turn ousted Ronaldo and Portugal.
Having seen all the charm that Riga had to offer, it was now time to move on again. This time to St. Petersburg in Russia to watch some live games. The bus ride started off great. Karim's quick wit got us two rows of seats on the Lux Bus, which was otherwise packed like sardines. I guess a lotta folks are heading north! This was great news considering it is to be a ten and a half hour drive from Riga to St. Petersburg in Russia crossing through Estonia. I stretched and slept. Alas my comfort did not last. Three hours in at around 3:30 in the morning, we stopped in the oddly named town of Tartu. Had no idea why, until a lady and a gentleman boarded ... and headed straight to my row (where else) saying the most dreaded six words I had ever heard at that ungodly hour:. "Khello. You khav our two seats."
...
'Who does that? I mean who gets on in Tartu, Estonia at 3:30 in the morning for goodness sake?!'
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