Lithuania, Day 2: Castles and Churches and Food--Oh My!
skidspoppe and I rose early on Thursday to catch an 8:08 AM train back to Vilnius. Did I mention how good it was to see him after such a long time? Five years is a long time not to see a friend. But I digress. We were joined on the trek by his good friend Monika, a tall, slim, blond woman of about 25 who works in tourism. Skids had a class to teach in the morning, so Monika was tasked with taking me to Trakai Castle, about a half-hour's bus ride southeast of Vilnius.
Trakai
Trakai is a tiny little town situated on a long sort of peninsula surrounded by lakes. The bus dropped us at one end, which meant walking its length to get to the castle at its other end. On the way, we passed little wooden houses painted autumn reds and golds, and walked along the lake's edge for a pretty view of more trees turning colors. The weather was cool and misty, so it all looked terribly picturesque, with edges softened by the haze in the air. We came around a bend, and there, past more trees, a lake, and a wooden bridge, was the castle, a series of red brick and rock cylindrical towers topped by conical roofs, connected by high, thick walls. Off to our left, a couple of men hung out by sailboats waiting for tourist custom. Ducks skimmed to a landing in the water. We walked across the wooden bridge, past an old woman selling meat pies from a cooler, and headed toward the castle.
We decided, first, to walk all the way around it to get a sense of its size and see it from all angles. This place had a storybook aspect, so clean and perfect in its construction and presentation. In the distance in one direction we saw what is referred to as the peninsular castle, a smaller cylindrical tower in only fair repair. In another direction, we saw a white mansion, a private home with a large gazebo off to one side.
We entered the castle through a large gate, paid our entrance fee, and started to explore. The place has two connected courtyards. We walked through the first to the second, where we ascended wooden steps to the three different levels. On each level different chambers included exhibits explaining the history of the place and, consequently, of Lithuania, showing artifacts found during that castle's restoration. Happily, all the explanations were in both Lithuanian and pretty well-translated English, so I was able to get a sense of what was really going on there.
What occurred to me as I read all this history--about Lithuania's one and only king, and then its line of Grand Dukes--is that I was reading about it for the first time, all this history I didn't learn about in school. We're not taught Eastern European history in American schools, so this was all a revelation to me. All these names that loom large locally--Gediminus, Vytautus, and so on--were completely unfamiliar. I felt a little provincial, not recognizing names that are as important to Lithuanians as George Washington and Abraham Lincoln are to Americans.
A happy surprise for me was finding a penny-smasher on the third floor of the castle. It's not listed on pennycollector.com so I'll report the site when I get home. Monika indulged me while I scrambled for the right coinage and smashed a complete set. (Lithuania is part of the European Union, but not part of the Eurozone, so I'm using currency called litae while I'm here. The pennies are, apparently, aluminum, and look like toy money.)
Meat pies
Besides its beautiful castle, Trakai is famous as being the place where kibinai was invented. It's basically a kind of baked meat pie in a delicious dough, and Monika was bound and determined for me to taste this definitively Lithuanian food. We found a place recommended by a local and each ordered one, along with a cup of sultinys--a beef broth served in a mug. This combination turned out to be a great antidote for the ay's damp, cool mist, and was very tasty: savory and satisfying.
Back to church-filled Vilnius
After lunch, we took the bus back to Vilnius to meet up with skidspoppe. From the train station to the cathedral where we met, we stopped at two different churches--The Jesuit Church of St. Casimir, a beautiful white and pink church, and the Russian Orthodox Church of St. Nicholas. I ogled amber jewelry in a couple of windows as we walked along the tourist strip to Cathedral Square. Old Town in Vilnius is a World Heritage site in tribute to its baroque style. What I found there was that the look was simpler and far more elegant than I expected, buildings in pale colors with tasteful trim. The streets are cobblestoned, and the sidewalks are brick.
We met Skids at the cathedral, a place that goes back to the 14th century, built on a site where a temple to the thunder god Perkunas once stood. I took a turn at a particular spot where it's traditional to stand, turn around three times, and make a wish. And then we took the funicular up to Gedinimus Tower, a cylindrical tower on the highest hill in the city built by the city's founder. The exhibits there explained the history of the place as well as Lithuania's fight for independence from the Soviet Union, attained less then 30 years ago. I learned about the Baltic Way, an event in which three million people from Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania made a human chain through all three countries to protest oppression and gain liberation, which they all achieved six months later. Very moving. And I got to see Vilnius from the top of the tower, spectacular views on all sides.
Dinner and unexpected Shakespeare
Dinner was at a restaurant called Forto Dvaras which specializes in traditional Lithuanian dishes. I had cepelina (zeppelins)--potatoes fried with bacon and served with ground meat and sour cream. Yeah, I know: not exactly Weight Watchers fare, but it was delicious. Being in a city and all, we were bound at some point to encounter a Personality. Coming out of the restaurant, a man standing by the door proclaimed, "To be or not to be, that is the question," to which I could only respond, dramatically, "Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune..." and continued to walk. He didn't react as I recall, but I do think we left him a little stunned at such an immediate and appropriate response. Unfortunately, dinner didn't sit very well with me, which meant stopping to attend to my unwellness. We were, however, back on the prowl shortly, hitting the beautiful St. Anne's Church and then...
The Republic of Uzupis (say "uzh-a-pis")
This neighborhood appears to be Vilnius' answer to Seattle's Fremont neighborhood. It's an artsy part of town with its own rules:
-- Always smile
-- Drive no more than 20 kilometers an hour
-- Make art
-- Don't drive into the river
It also has a constitution, an entertaining document posted in the middle of the neighborhood in more than 10 different languages (including Yiddish) that most Fremonsters would heartily approve of. Uzupis boasts its own mermaid and archangel. My only regret is that we got there after most businesses were closed and twilight was setting in, so I didn't get to enjoy it as I would have hoped. Still, it was fun to get a taste of Vilnius' idiosyncratic side.
Our last stop, before heading back to Kaunas, was to see the statue of the Goan of Vilna, a bust, really, on a column in a small park. I was gratified to get a little bit of Jewish culture into the day, given the city's Jewish heritage as well as my own.
We headed back to Kaunas on the train, exhausted, having walked more than 30,000 steps--12+ miles. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Trakai
Trakai is a tiny little town situated on a long sort of peninsula surrounded by lakes. The bus dropped us at one end, which meant walking its length to get to the castle at its other end. On the way, we passed little wooden houses painted autumn reds and golds, and walked along the lake's edge for a pretty view of more trees turning colors. The weather was cool and misty, so it all looked terribly picturesque, with edges softened by the haze in the air. We came around a bend, and there, past more trees, a lake, and a wooden bridge, was the castle, a series of red brick and rock cylindrical towers topped by conical roofs, connected by high, thick walls. Off to our left, a couple of men hung out by sailboats waiting for tourist custom. Ducks skimmed to a landing in the water. We walked across the wooden bridge, past an old woman selling meat pies from a cooler, and headed toward the castle.
We decided, first, to walk all the way around it to get a sense of its size and see it from all angles. This place had a storybook aspect, so clean and perfect in its construction and presentation. In the distance in one direction we saw what is referred to as the peninsular castle, a smaller cylindrical tower in only fair repair. In another direction, we saw a white mansion, a private home with a large gazebo off to one side.
We entered the castle through a large gate, paid our entrance fee, and started to explore. The place has two connected courtyards. We walked through the first to the second, where we ascended wooden steps to the three different levels. On each level different chambers included exhibits explaining the history of the place and, consequently, of Lithuania, showing artifacts found during that castle's restoration. Happily, all the explanations were in both Lithuanian and pretty well-translated English, so I was able to get a sense of what was really going on there.
What occurred to me as I read all this history--about Lithuania's one and only king, and then its line of Grand Dukes--is that I was reading about it for the first time, all this history I didn't learn about in school. We're not taught Eastern European history in American schools, so this was all a revelation to me. All these names that loom large locally--Gediminus, Vytautus, and so on--were completely unfamiliar. I felt a little provincial, not recognizing names that are as important to Lithuanians as George Washington and Abraham Lincoln are to Americans.
A happy surprise for me was finding a penny-smasher on the third floor of the castle. It's not listed on pennycollector.com so I'll report the site when I get home. Monika indulged me while I scrambled for the right coinage and smashed a complete set. (Lithuania is part of the European Union, but not part of the Eurozone, so I'm using currency called litae while I'm here. The pennies are, apparently, aluminum, and look like toy money.)
Meat pies
Besides its beautiful castle, Trakai is famous as being the place where kibinai was invented. It's basically a kind of baked meat pie in a delicious dough, and Monika was bound and determined for me to taste this definitively Lithuanian food. We found a place recommended by a local and each ordered one, along with a cup of sultinys--a beef broth served in a mug. This combination turned out to be a great antidote for the ay's damp, cool mist, and was very tasty: savory and satisfying.
Back to church-filled Vilnius
After lunch, we took the bus back to Vilnius to meet up with skidspoppe. From the train station to the cathedral where we met, we stopped at two different churches--The Jesuit Church of St. Casimir, a beautiful white and pink church, and the Russian Orthodox Church of St. Nicholas. I ogled amber jewelry in a couple of windows as we walked along the tourist strip to Cathedral Square. Old Town in Vilnius is a World Heritage site in tribute to its baroque style. What I found there was that the look was simpler and far more elegant than I expected, buildings in pale colors with tasteful trim. The streets are cobblestoned, and the sidewalks are brick.
We met Skids at the cathedral, a place that goes back to the 14th century, built on a site where a temple to the thunder god Perkunas once stood. I took a turn at a particular spot where it's traditional to stand, turn around three times, and make a wish. And then we took the funicular up to Gedinimus Tower, a cylindrical tower on the highest hill in the city built by the city's founder. The exhibits there explained the history of the place as well as Lithuania's fight for independence from the Soviet Union, attained less then 30 years ago. I learned about the Baltic Way, an event in which three million people from Latvia, Estonia, and Lithuania made a human chain through all three countries to protest oppression and gain liberation, which they all achieved six months later. Very moving. And I got to see Vilnius from the top of the tower, spectacular views on all sides.
Dinner and unexpected Shakespeare
Dinner was at a restaurant called Forto Dvaras which specializes in traditional Lithuanian dishes. I had cepelina (zeppelins)--potatoes fried with bacon and served with ground meat and sour cream. Yeah, I know: not exactly Weight Watchers fare, but it was delicious. Being in a city and all, we were bound at some point to encounter a Personality. Coming out of the restaurant, a man standing by the door proclaimed, "To be or not to be, that is the question," to which I could only respond, dramatically, "Whether it is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune..." and continued to walk. He didn't react as I recall, but I do think we left him a little stunned at such an immediate and appropriate response. Unfortunately, dinner didn't sit very well with me, which meant stopping to attend to my unwellness. We were, however, back on the prowl shortly, hitting the beautiful St. Anne's Church and then...
The Republic of Uzupis (say "uzh-a-pis")
This neighborhood appears to be Vilnius' answer to Seattle's Fremont neighborhood. It's an artsy part of town with its own rules:
-- Always smile
-- Drive no more than 20 kilometers an hour
-- Make art
-- Don't drive into the river
It also has a constitution, an entertaining document posted in the middle of the neighborhood in more than 10 different languages (including Yiddish) that most Fremonsters would heartily approve of. Uzupis boasts its own mermaid and archangel. My only regret is that we got there after most businesses were closed and twilight was setting in, so I didn't get to enjoy it as I would have hoped. Still, it was fun to get a taste of Vilnius' idiosyncratic side.
Our last stop, before heading back to Kaunas, was to see the statue of the Goan of Vilna, a bust, really, on a column in a small park. I was gratified to get a little bit of Jewish culture into the day, given the city's Jewish heritage as well as my own.
We headed back to Kaunas on the train, exhausted, having walked more than 30,000 steps--12+ miles. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.