Baltics IV – Riga, Latvia to Pärnu, Estonia

Saturday August 10

Michael has a Latvian friend in college in Dublin and he gave us a breakfast recommendation which we took. Pretty good.

Mr. Waffle, Daniel and I went for a wander around town. To our relief the weather was a bit cooler. Michael took himself off to the station to meet his Latvian friend who was coming into Riga for the day to hang out. I am keen for Michael to go interrailing but yet I was unsure that he would make it from the flat to the station unsupervised. A number of people pointed out the inconsistency in my behaviour.

Mr. Waffle found a truly delightful art deco cafe. I loved, loved, loved it.

Herself arrived. We could have collected her in our hire car but mentally it would have been exhausting so she came into us by taxi at about 4.30. She made her plane by inches having stopped off to pick up some foundation for me at Boots as I had forgotten my tube in some previous location. Honestly, not really necessary but she made the flight so all was well.

Michael returned safely from his day out with his friend from college. A Russian speaker it transpired. It was interesting to hear about the status of the Russian language in Latvia; they seem to be reducing pretty drastically the opportunities for students to attend Russian language schools which at one level I can understand but it’s pretty rough on the Russian speakers.

We had dinner in a lovely restaurant which was recommended by Michael’s friend. It was quite difficult to find and swathed in scaffolding – certainly, I can’t imagine that they got any passing trade – but after our longish walk to get there, I was quite pleased it was open. It was pretty swish upstairs.

But downstairs in the basement there was a ball pen. Truly a mysterious choice.

I must say I was pretty pleased to have everyone together.

Sunday August 11

Mr. Waffle, Daniel and I went to mass at 9.30. Honestly a punishingly early hour but, having learnt our lesson from Vilnius we found an English language service so there was that.

We had a cup of tea nearby after and then Daniel pushed on home while Mr. Waffle and I went to explore the market.

It’s located in a zeppelin hangar – which you don’t get much – and very authentic. There were lots of stalls run by older people who spoke no English and yet again my (I cannot emphasise enough) basic Russian was pressed into service.

After Mr. Waffle and I got home, herself and myself went into town by tram. Mr. Waffle had been pushing public transport for some time as our Airbnb was a bit of a trot from the centre but I was dubious. However, I am bound to say that it was pretty easy to use and in terms of comfort and reliability compares very favourably to Irish public transport.

I regret to say that the art gallery which we had gone into town to inspect was underwhelming. There were a lot of less good works by less famous international artists. I think we might have been better off going to the museum of Latvian art. And, my goodness, I am as fond of porcelain as the next person but you can have too much of a good thing. Herself had done some short course at the Ashmolean while she was in college and was able to tell me some things about porcelain which I had not previously known and I remember being interested at the time but I have now completely forgotten so maybe overall not a total win.

Afterwards we had a cup of tea in the lovely 30s cafe which I was keen to show herself. Reasonable levels of enthusiasm. We had the squeezed orange juice which is available in every cafe in the Baltics, why oh why can’t we have this at home? They also have brilliant cycle lanes and many cyclists, again why oh why can’t we have this at home? I digress.

I had bought salmon in the market and cooked it for dinner. Definite overestimate on my part of how much salmon is needed to feed a family of five. Salmon for every meal until we leave, I suggested, to low levels of enthusiasm from the troops.

Monday August 12

Despite the huge quantities of salmon available at home, Mr. Waffle, herself and I went out for breakfast to the “No Name” cafe, a place recommended by Michael’s ever helpful local contact. Satisfactory.

After lunch Michael, Mr. Waffle and I took the tram into town. I really regretted resisting for so long. The joy of the tram was truly wonderful. We went to the national library which is really well worth a visit.

It’s pretty cool from the outside. It’s the yoke with a crown on the top which if memory serves me is a reference to some popular Latvian children’s book.

Inside there are beautiful views out to the city.

And the inside was pretty cool too.

The architect was a Latvian whose family had left Latvia for Canada, I think, when he was a little boy and they had pictures of him in his house in Riga when he was a child and the piano from the house. I am not a huge fan of modern architecture but this was a delight. There was an exhibition on – surprise – books and it had a copy of James Joyce’s “Ulysses” in Latvian. A group of Latvian enthusiasts paid for its translation by subscription. I hope they were pleased is all I can say.

We then needed a restorative cup of tea and I was keen to go to a place I had found earlier in the week. Could I find it? I could not. Michael said dolefully after considerable tramping around, “I hear deep in my bones the honking of a wild waterfowl.” We compromised and went somewhere else where I had chips with sour cream. Honestly, the innovation I have been waiting for all my life.

Michael and Mr. Waffle went home but I went up a church tower. I love a view from above. It was a great view but it was alarmingly windy. I did not linger.

In the church itself there was a statue of a Teutonic knight. The Teutonic knights (previously unknown to me) are very big in this part of the world.

I walked across the bridge to the library which I thought would be delightful but it was actually a bit grim and windy. There are no amazing photographs, I regret to inform you. I took the tram back and met herself in town. We had a look around the shops and, then, yet again, I began to feel that I needed a sustaining cup of tea. “Let me take you to a cafe that I think you will like,” said herself. Mirabile dictu, it was the very one for which I had searched in vain earlier in the day. Herself has an amazing ability to find restaurants and cafes I will like. What a gift. Delighted.

When we got home, Daniel showed off his charity shop haul and Michael made dinner. Not me. Not salmon either.

Tuesday, 13 August 2024

I volunteered to get croissants from the bakery. They only had three and there was, I felt, a slightly Soviet style indifference to my wish to source more. There were three, that was how it was, give up now on your quixotic quest for more.

This was our last full day in Riga and although the city is full of beautiful art nouveau architecture, we had not yet been to the art nouveau quarter. I suffered real regret that we had left it so late as this is, in my view, by far the nicest part of the city (full of embassies, of course).

We had lunch in a bar which was only moderately successful. I ordered a salad and I basically got sandwich spread. I was not delighted.

After lunch we went to the art nouveau museum which I found charming.

Daniel found an unexpected symmetry between Bohemians football club in Dublin and the sofa favoured by the art nouveau architect whose home this once was.

The museum was staffed by people in period costume which is something I enjoy. The lady in the kitchen spoke German (and presumably Latvian) but no English however we were able to chat with her with our school German. An English woman who overheard asked how we all spoke such good German and I said that we learnt it in school. She seemed very impressed and my cup full of smugness ran over. Herself hissed to me, “You’re unbearable”. Honesty forces me to confess that I cannot imagine that the English woman spoke very good German herself or she would have been considerably less impressed.

I mean, did we all find the house tour fascinating and charming, perhaps not.

After we had finished our tour of the house we did a tour of the area ably assisted by our excellent guidebook – will I ever just rely on my phone, I think not.

As a reward after our touristing we went to the nice French cafe which we had spotted earlier. It had closed at 3. I mean why would they do that? Everyone was a bit tired, hot and cranky and we went to the nearest cafe which was basically like going to the Spar cafe at home. But look, it had air conditioning and everyone was considerably less grumpy afterwards.

Michael and Mr. Waffle decided to call it a day but the rest of us went to a lovely tourist shop where I bought a nice tile (currently on the table behind me under the teapot) and two little bowls (I confess, still unused). We were all cheered up by spending money and went off to another nice cafe we had seen – still chasing the cafe high we had been cheated of – but, sadly, it was out of buns. It was not our day for cafes.

After we got home and had dinner that evening, four of us went out for a last drink in Riga and, Michael, delighted with himself stayed home alone.

Wednesday 14 August, 2024

In the morning we packed up the car (a bit tight) and left Riga. On the way out we saw an enormous sports park complex. I was very impressed, Daniel said it was like Vilnius only smaller. It is amazing the communal facilities they have compared to what we have at home. Everything in Ireland seems more private – owned by a club rather than a public facility.

We stopped for lunch on the road; our last meal in Latvia. We put herself in charge of finding somewhere and, obedient to her directions pulled off the road into what honestly looked like an industrial estate.

As we wandered in, no one was more surprised than me to find a lovely pizza place, overlooking the sea with an enormous wood-fired oven. That child is a genius. There was no way on God’s earth her parents would ever have found this place.

And then it was across the border into Estonia. It was instantly clear that Estonia is much richer than Latvia. The roads were better and everything looked a lot more prosperous. We passed a replica Viking boat on the road, “Look at that,” I said to the children. “I wonder where it’s going?” “Doubtless to bore a group of children somewhere, ” said herself laconically. I have a lot to put up with.

We went on to Pärnu which is known as the summer capital of Estonia. Our airbnb was out in the suburbs. Although it said there were four bedrooms on the description, there were not and great was the disapproval of our children at the prospect of having to share. Herself very cleverly pointed out that we could move one of the beds to the study and solve the problem so all was well. When the time came to review she really wanted me to complain but I was too craven. “Then they will do it again and someone else will suffer,” she said reproachfully. I pointed out that when we inspected the previous reviews other, less craven guests, had complained of this problem and they were still doing it. She was not appeased.

Aside from the bedroom debacle, the house was truly lovely. Compared to our rather cramped living quarters in Riga, the rooms downstairs were huge. The garden, however was the star of the show. It was enormous with fruit trees and a stream running along the end. We had a lovely dinner in the garden.

Mr. Waffle and I went for a stroll around the area after dinner. I found it slightly reminiscent of Denmark. Mr. Waffle pointed out a large alarm on the roof of a school we passed. They have more challenging neighbours than the Danes.

You’ll be pleased to hear that there are only three Baltic countries and Estonia is the last one we visited but yet, there is so much more to come. I have definitely been writing this for far longer than we were on holidays. Thanks you for sticking with it.

I have not blogged much of late but this year I think I will do Nablopo, so there’s that to look forward to and perhaps I will finally finish my summer holiday descriptions?