Saturday, May 28, 2005
Riga, day two
Today I went to Sigulda. This small town, 45 minutes from Riga by train, is located in a forested valley. It is known as the Switzerland of Latvia.
I had a hard time getting there. I was running late for the morning train, so I literally ran to the platform that I thought the train was leaving from. I did see a train waiting there but no signs showing which it was. I asked two girls waiting on the platform if this was the right one. The first thing I could think to say was "Do you speak English?" in Russian, and the girls giggled, "Yes, and Russian too!" They told me that this was indeed the train bound for Sigulda. I jumped on. Most people I saw in Riga put on a cold demeanor, but I hope this experience shows that if you actually make an effort to talk to them they will be friendly.
When I arrived in town, I walked to the bobsled track, an Olympic-quality training facility. It was hyped up in all the travel guides, but on this day it was not worth the praise. It was closed, first of all, and it did not have the picturesque quality I imagined it would have had in the winter.
A unique brand of chess
Afterward I went to the valley, and on the way I happened to go past an elementary school. On this Saturday there were dozens of schoolchildren outside. They were making arts and crafts, playing games and generally having fun. One of them told me that they were celebrating some kind of anniversary. I learned later that there were celebrations like this in other towns in the country, so I thought it was a national founding or independence holiday. At the town square there was a large festival.
Gauja River in Sigulda
For the next few hours I walked around the valley. It's actually a small part of Gauja National Park. (Gauja is the name of the river that runs through the valley.) There are some picturesque castles as well as a cave that is involved in a local legend about star-crossed lovers. Hiking around the valley was a nice change of pace from visiting cities. Still, if you come here in the summer you should be prepared for dense forests, blocking your view from trails, and lots and lots of gnats. Further, the Gauja river was a murky brown, not exactly pristine Alpine water.
In the late afternoon I returned to town for an hour. There were lots of young people hanging out. I would have thought that the fashion here would be more rustic than in Riga, but that wasn't true at all. You would see girls who spent a lot of time making themselves up, wearing mini-skirts and high heels with stockings (even on a warm day like today). The inhabitants of Sigulda seemed more Latvian than Russian. They looked northern European, with their tall frames, blond hair and blue eyes.
Latvian folk dance
On the train back to Riga I met an American named Mark. He was a public speaker working for IBM who traveled extensively for his job, racking up more than 100,000 frequent flyer miles a year. He was in Latvia this week for a conference and managed to get away from the city for a day. When we came back to Riga I went along with him to a section just outside Old Town with some fabulous architecture. On the corner of Alberta and Elizabetes streets you'll find plenty of Art Nouveau buildings, a style that is distinguished by richly ornamented facades. The examples I saw were quite extravagant: they featured exotic masks, lions and screaming faces. I had dinner with Mark back at Lido (he was more impressed with the food than I). Afterwards Mark went back to the Art Nouveau district to take more photos. I was ready for something else, so I said goodbye.
Art nouveau architecture
I met up with the young Aussie couple from Vilnius, Richard and Mel, who happened to to be in Riga today. Their hostel, Friendly Fun Franks, was a bit hard to find, but it was worth the effort. The atmosphere inside was lively. A dozen or so people were gathered in the common area—some English guys were playing cards, others were chatting on couches while European MTV was showing on the TV. I found Richard and Mel there. Not long after I arrived the owner, Frank, an Australian himself, handed me a beer.
Late that evening I joined Richard and Mel and a French student named Christophe for drinks at the Skyline Bar. This place is on the top floor of a hotel just outside of Old Town, and it offers impressive views of the city. Most of the crowd there were foreigners, and as such the prices of drinks and food were astronomical (by Riga's standards, anyway).
I heard that Riga is trying to become the premier destination in Europe for stag parties. Well, this jived with all the barkers I saw in Old Town that night, trying to lure men into their clubs with postcards printed with scantily clad women.
On that note, we left Skyline Bar and went to La Rocca, a club in New Town that Frank knows well [he got everyone in the hostel (even me) on the guestlist]. La Rocca is massive. It has three floors and several rooms of different music. The main dancefloor was incredible. European techno was pumping from the speakers, go-go dancers in day-glo outfits writhed to the music, a spectacular light display illuminated the crowd, a fairly large gathering of well-dressed teens and twenty-somethings.
As I walked around I took account of men in flashy suits smoking cigarettes and sipping cognac glasses, arms on their girls. Everyone (except for foreigners like me) was Russian. The atmosphere was electric. It was a place where, if you had the money and the motive, you could go as far as you wanted. I felt like an interloper. I went to the Russian pop music room, which made me feel even more like an outsider. The music was awful, but the room had a large, excited crowd. Next to me were two especially boisterous girls, dancing and singing along. One of them was a true beauty, looking more Latin than Russian. She caught the eye of one man, probably ten years her senior, who was dressed in an expensive (but gaudy nonetheless) suit. He approached her and offered to buy her a drink. She refused. Then he tried to get closer to her, which made her step back. He continued this, thus literally chasing her around the dance floor! After five minutes he finally left her alone. I wanted to tell her how impressed I was by her sticking to her guns, but before I had the chance she grabbed her friend's hand and left the room.
I talked to the French student, Christophe. Like me, he was going to St. Petersburg and Moscow next week. He whispered to me, "You will get married." Before I could laugh, he confided that the last time he and his friends went to Russia, all of them had fallen in love with local girls and were depressed for weeks afterward. I was skeptical, but also a little scared.
I went back to the mezzanine above the techno dancefloor and made a game of guessing how long a girl could go before getting bought a drink. At 3:30 I left the club and walked back to Vija's flat.
Riga at 4 A.M.
