Postscript

So there you go. A year in Vilnius has come to an end, and true to the plan on August 28, 2015, this blog now has 365 entries sharing my thoughts and feelings in a year as a newcomer in Vilnius, Lithuania’s capital. Also true to the original plan (see more about what this blog was all about in this post over on DeepBaltic), I’ve now left Vilnius, but I hope this blog lives on and is of interest to – or perhaps even helps – someone else embarking on a similar journey, or is just coming to Lithuania for a visit. There may even be the odd Lithuanian, curious to see what their country looks like with a fresh pair of eyes. I may still enrich the blog with some more content over the coming weeks, putting together lists of the most read entries, or group them by themes, and of course I will be happy to engage with any comments that are left by readers, but as for original posts, yesterday was the end of the road. My trusted Canon and its 50mm lens held up through the challenge, and I’ll be leaving Lithuania with a pocketful of wonderful memories and a broadened mind. Thanks for reading, and so long!

Dozen to go: Draugiai

Though this blog has been mainly about sights, thoughts, impressions and events during my stay in Vilnius, a collection* of final lingering thoughts on Lithuania wouldn’t be complete without the people that make the place what it is: Lithuanians. Over the year, the archetypal Lithuanian – a stereotype that of course applies fully to noone in the country – started to emerge. Lithuanians don’t laugh much, and are happy to admit so in  stone-faced way. But they have a killer sense of humour. Quite literally. Dark and often with a fair helping of gallows’ humour to match even the most choleric British self-deprecating sarcasm machine. Which is, of course, very funny, making the absence of hearty laughs rather odd. Lithuanians are also incredibly honest. Forget your bike unlocked for a day and chances are that you’ll find it right in the spot you left it. Lithuanians also have an almost obsessive urge to save you a penny: go to the supermarket without a loyalty card, and the cashier will holler out down the queue for someone to swipe theirs, so you don’t miss out on the discounts. Lithuanians dress impeccably and soberly – eschewing the bling and daring cuts that characterize the style further East and South. Lithuanians also find it odd that someone would voluntarily come settle down in their little corner of planet Earth. Perhaps – a reflection on the fact that one in three Lithuanians lives somewhere else. They are not the type to say hello in the street, but for the most part they like to show solidarity when they can – the culture is not to lick up and kick down, but to help a brother or sister along. Lithuania is undeniably, and almost extremely monoethnic. Anyone that is not white stands out immediately, which can be a frustrating experience if you are the only black, maghreb, arab, asian or latino in the village, so to say. All in all, Lithuanians are as friendly and charming as you might hope for, and the ones that I met enriched my visit to this little country immensely. So ačiū dear draugiai for sharing your country with me, and I hope to come back again soon! Gerai? Gerai!

* What is “Dozen to go? To wrap up the blog, I have picked out a dozen of the things during my year in Vilnius that I am most likely to carry with me in my memories of the place. They are in no particular order, and in any event any effort to rank them would amount to comparing apples with oranges.

Dozen to go: Belmontas coup-de-coeur

Regular readers of this blog will not be surprised to find Belmontas and its Pūčkoriai forest on this list* of Vilnius’ greatest hits. Time and time again, autumn, spring, winter or summer, I’ve found myself drawn back to this most enchanting place just a hop and a skip from downtown Vilnius. The Belmontas mill, restored to its former glory and boasting a great riverside restaurant and well-frequented wedding banquet halls, is its most striking asset. But the thing about Belmontas that makes it worth the frequent return visits is its surroundings. There’s the intimidating Pūčkoriai erosion, which offers a great glimpse of the sandy soil that Lithuania is made of from underneath, and a stunning view from the top. There are mating frogs in the spring. A charmingly restored manor. A lovely well-maintained walking path that can be shortened to just a kilometre, or extended to around 10, depending on your mood. The Vilnia river that runs the course of the site is mesmerising in its own right, but turn left and you’ll be dazzled by a sprawling apple orchard, puzzled by some of the boldest architecture in town, or nuzzled by the horses grazing in the paddocks around the manor. Take a longer route and trainspotters can catch a glimpse of globetrotters headed for Minsk. Take a shorter and stumble upon fields covered in gold, or frothing, cascading waters stunned by some of the coldest temperatures you can get this side of Lapland. There are no howling motorways within earshot. The seasons live and breathe and the nature invites you to take a very close look at its cogs and gears. And if the weather permits, jump in the stream for a swim. There may not be many things about Vilnius that will come back and give a feeling of yearning, but Belmontas and its surroundings will almost certainly invite pangs of longing even after many years have passed.

* What is “Dozen to go? To wrap up the blog, I have picked out a dozen of the things during my year in Vilnius that I am most likely to carry with me in my memories of the place. They are in no particular order, and in any event any effort to rank them would amount to comparing apples with oranges.

Dozen to go: Natural treasure trove

The list* of 12 Vilnius-themed earworms wouldn’t be complete without a nod to the absolutely stunning nature that can be found a stone’s throw from the Lithuanian capital. I have, of course, spent a disproportionate number of blogs about it already, so I won’t be lengthy, but when you start going through the list, the sheer number of natural treasures quickly becomes overwhelming. In the immediate vicinity of the city centre, you have the wonderful regional parks – Pavilniai and Verkiai, that create a green belt around the North-East quarter of the city.In Pavilniai park, the nature is mixed with the enigmatic Polish army bunkers and mysterious woodland graves. In a country that is in principle as flat as the Netherlands, the steep slopes of the valleys formed rivulets that have carved deep furrows in the soft sandy soil as they gush towards the Neris or Vilnia rivers are suprising. Verkiai, meanwhile, with its stunning emerald-green lakes and flat cycle-friendly forest paths is more friendly to the casual jogger or cyclist. The Karoliniskes forest that covers the right Neris riverbank downstream from the city centre, and the more urban Vingis park across the river, offer a mirror green space at the other end of town. Then, there are the beautiful Antaviliai lakes in the photo above, hidden in the vast forests that stretch beyond Pavilniai park to the North-East, like the one in this photo, and the corresponding Neris river regional park to the West, including gems like the valley of the Dukstos stream. Having such fantastic nature within reach connects Vilnius to its environment in ways that many cities of a certain size can only dream of. Unlike urban districts that have slowly but surely suburbanised and homogenised the surrounding fields and forest, in Vilnius, nature reaches all the way in to the city centre, earning the city a truly green badge of honour.

* What is “Dozen to go? To wrap up the blog, I have picked out a dozen of the things during my year in Vilnius that I am most likely to carry with me in my memories of the place. They are in no particular order, and in any event any effort to rank them would amount to comparing apples with oranges.

Dozen to go: Daytrips

As much as Vilnius is a lovely city with plenty to discover, its attractiveness benefits hugely from the countless daytrips that are on offer and meriting a spot* on the shortlist of highlights from the city. There are obvious tourist traps like the brick castle at Trakai, the hill-forts at Kernave or the less well known Medininkai castle on the Belarus border, and the second city of Lithuania Kaunas all within an hour of the capital. Venture a bit further, and you have the glorious lake Asveja, the longest in the country, the Aukštaitija national park near Ignalina with its many lakes and deep forests, the leisure playground of Anykščiai, and the spa town of Druskininkai within a couple hours in the car. And if you’re willing to get up early, you could even make a dash for the crisp white sand of the Lithuanian riviera on the Baltic sea, at seaside resorts like Palanga, or the abandoned nuclear missile silos near Plunge in the far Northwest of the country – though these options will set you back a good three to four hours behind the wheel. If you have a bit of time on your hands, it is worth setting the GPS to avoid the motorways and instead opt for one of the winding b-roads that criss-cross the country. Chief among these is the one following the Nemunas river valley from Kaunas toward the border with the Russian enclave Kaliningrad, but there are many others that also offer a taste of the real Lithuania beyond the monotonous, straight stretches of motorway.

* What is “Dozen to go? To wrap up the blog, I have picked out a dozen of the things during my year in Vilnius that I am most likely to carry with me in my memories of the place. They are in no particular order, and in any event any effort to rank them would amount to comparing apples with oranges.

Dozen to go: Headstones from heaven

 A list* of the most memorable things about Lithuania doesn’t just have to be tourist-trail blockbusters. One of the most penetrating and revealing corners of Lithuanian society was its cemeteries. Whether the war cemetery in Antakalnis, the resting place for Nazi soldiers in Vingis park, the opulent cemetery of Rasos, or the graveyards of ordinary Lithuanians like the Sunrise cemetery, they have left a lasting mark. Even the ghost of the Jewish graveyards that are long gone at the hands of Soviet vandalism, or the eerie woodland graves that are scattered around the forests surrounding Vilnius are hard to shake off. Antakalnis –  the cemetery of war heroes, political bigwigs and big-name artists and academics was without a doubt the one that offered the first ‘wow’ experience, with its exquisitely crafted headstones turning the cemetery into a sculpture park, its huge Red Army memorial statues, and its endless rows of Polish army graves lit by lanterns on all souls’ night. Noteworthy cemeteries are, of course, not an exclusively Lithuanian business, but somehow the resting place of the dead is done bolder and with more confidence in this little country than most. In a country that has served as the crossroads for ravaging armies for centuries, and has suffered immensely at the hands of occupying forces, the cemeteries also bear witness to the resilience of Lithuania’s people and culture. If honouring thost that have lived before us and learning the lessons from previous generations is how we make the next generation better off, Lithuania’s off to a good start.

* What is “Dozen to go? To wrap up the blog, I have picked out a dozen of the things during my year in Vilnius that I am most likely to carry with me in my memories of the place. They are in no particular order, and in any event any effort to rank them would amount to comparing apples with oranges.

Dozen to go: Bernardine gardens

Meriting a spot in the top 12 Vilnius hall of fame* is without a doubt the Bernardine gardens in the Vilnius old town. What is now a city park was first landscaped by Bernardine monks in the 1400s, and was turned into something resembling its current form in the late 1800s, when Vilnius’ first urban boom came with the arrival of the train, connecting Vilnius with Warsaw and St Petersburg. The park, which was refurbished in 2013 with a helping hand from the EU, is a delight to walk through. Kids have two huge playgrounds at their disposal with an array of fanciful equipment to climb and swing. Always within earshot of the pearly ripples of the Vilnia stream is a dancing fountain, and beautifully landscaped grounds with flowers and plants, carefully labelled, to delight visitors in any season. It also acts as a green artery for the tourist trail in the city, connecting the artist quarters of Užupis, the old town’s main attraction Pylimo gatve, the huge Vilnius cathedral and the main avenue Gedimino Prospektas, and the most famous landmark in town – Gedminas hill and tower. I have to admit that it was spending a day in the Bernardine gardens that I first felt a pang of awe and wonder when first arriving in the city, and I can only hope that many others like me have felt the same way.

* What is “Dozen to go? To wrap up the blog, I have picked out a dozen of the things during my year in Vilnius that I am most likely to carry with me in my memories of the place. They are in no particular order, and in any event any effort to rank them would amount to comparing apples with oranges.

Dining in style

As the sun sets over the Vilnia river valley, bathing the slopes in golden evening sun, the lanterns turn on and the clinking of glasses mixes with the steady hum of the stream gushing over a waterfall at the Belmontas riverside restaurant. I will never claim to be an expert on the Vilnius dining scene, but after sampling a few of the top recommendations, I will stand by my previous comment that Lithuanian cuisine still has a lot of room for improvement. But that is not the same as saying that Vilnius doesn’t have some fantastic dining spots, and so here is a mention to the restaurant with the unrivalled best scenery in Vilnius – the Belmontas riverside grill. The spacious alfresco restaurant is cradled by the Vilnia rapids after they have tumbled over the Belmontas mill dam, offering a gentle acoustic backdrop, and I’ve spent enough posts on this blog going on about the beautiful scenery. There are plenty of cozy places to go downtown, of course, and if you keep an eye out for signs to “vasaros terasa” – summer terrace – you can expect to be treated to a great experience in one of Vilnius’ many courtyards. But Belmontas easily takes the top prize for location even among stiff competition, and the food is not something to be wowed about, but as far as grills go it is very tasty and slips down well with some of the locally-brewed beer. And for the kids, there’s even an enchanting playground at the far end of the restaurant to keep them entertained.

 

Sibling rivalry

Like most other regions, the Baltic states have an internal hierarchy of rivalries. My first encounter with their internal ranking system came when mentioning to Latvians or Estonians that I was heading out to their Baltic neighbour to spend a year, and was met with an indifferent shrug. To them, I might as well have been relocating to Düsseldorf, for all they cared. During the year, I’ve been able to tease out these relationships in some more detail, and arrived at a broad outline of the stereotype of the sibling rivalry in the region. Admittedly, it doesn’t always fit and it is rather crude, but it works as a primer. Starting with Lithuania, they are of course fiercely patriotic and have a tendency to sneer at the heavy Russian influence in their northern neighbours. Many speak fondly of Riga, but in the same breath add that it’s quite polluted and is a bit too pompous. Estonians are often referred to by Lithuanians as arrogant, and they are seen as only keen on impressing the Swedes or matching the Finns. And for Lithuania, Tallinn is pretty but that’s its main asset. Latvians, meanwhile, see Lithuania as a country of rural tribes and Vilnius as a provincial town out in the woods. Latvians see Lithuanians as quite inoffensive, but also fail to see a real reason to pay attention to their southern neighbours. Riga wallows in its heritage as a chief city of the Hanseatic League, and its residents very much consider the city to be in the same troupe as Gdansk, Hamburg or Copenhagen. Tallinn has, of course, been Riga’s main regional rival, and the linguistic and cultural divide between the Estonians and Latvians is used to maximum effect to mark out the difference between the two. Estonians, meanwhile, true to the Lithuanian image of them, seem to have their eyes firmly set on Stockholm, paying scant attention to their non-Finnic Baltic siblings, and eyeing Finland as a rival rather than a country to model itself after. But of course, when it comes to the crunch, Balts will always stand up for each other and show solidarity with each other, setting their regional bickering aside for a while.

Caucasian twins

Georgia, or Gruzija in local lingo, holds a special place in the heart of Lithuanians for reasons that presumably go beyond a love of good wine (Georgia’s wines are not to be sneered at, for sure). Vilnius and Georgia’s capital Tbilisi (not, as some might have assumed, Atlanta) are “twinned”, and among the exquisitely carved wooden houses in the venerable Vilnius district Žvėrynas lies Tbilisio Skveras – a small park from 2015 dedicated to the city. A websearch suggests that a corresponding park dedicated to Vilnius can be found in Tbilisi. In any Vilnius supermarket, Georgian wines stand alongside bottles from France and Italy, and Wizz Air offers direct flights from Vilnius to Georgia’s third city Kutaisi – located between the ski resorts of the Caucasus and the beach resorts on the Black Sea, and travel agents list Georgia’s tourist hotspots alongside more traditional Mediterranean or Red Sea options. Generally, spending a year in Vilnius, you’ll see and hear a lot more about Georgia than their rather distant geographical relation would suggest, and no Lithuanian I’ve met has yet offered a fully-fledged explanation of why the two are so closely linked beyond some mutterings about Soviet times or Lithuania’s medieval Grand Dutchy, which stretched all the way to the Black Sea. Whatever the reason, the Georgian-Lithuanian link is an exotic twist to this little country.