Final for Europe

It must be said that the traffic in Poland’s Krakow is KRAZY! Diabolical would even be a more descriptive term. Driving the van through the outskirts of the city aged us both another ten years at least. Sheesh! Massive roadworks, intensely heavy traffic and narrow roads all made a combination that convinced us to NOT drive into the famous Art Museum in the heart of the city. More’s the pity.

Instead, we decided to head south towards the Carpathian Mountains to visit the fabulous Tatras National Park that we have seen so many glorious pictures of. But before leaving Krakow ,we did pay the exorbitantly high fees to visit the Salt Mines that had been highly recommended to us.

They are ancient salt mines that have been converted to a tourist destination with models and incredible sculptures littered throughout, and are very interesting. The guide explained to us that because it was such dangerous work for the original miners, they became very religious and built all sorts of chapels and religious sculptures down inside the tunnels, all carved directly from the rock salt. These amazing structures were created AFTER the workers had completed their tough and dangerous eight-hour day of mining.

There were also horses who lived and worked down in the mines for ten to fifteen years without ever seeing the daylight. Imagine how those poor creatures felt when they were eventually retired to the surface!

Due to the huge numbers of visitors (and that was during the off-season, but to be fair it was on the weekend) the tour groups were pumped quickly through, leaving only moments at each site for photos before the next groups were pressing at our heels. It was pretty hectic.

Georgie really enjoyed the experience and was totally awed by the artistic merit of the carvings, and the struggles that these men and horses endured. But Rod eventually became a little too claustrophobic with the tight crowding of people in those man-made tunnels, and became eager to get out of there.

In the past, he has absolutely adored exploring multiple natural limestone caves. For him, crawling through tight openings and slipping down narrow crevices with a torch in his teeth has given him such a thrill, and without feeling even the slightest inkling of claustrophobia. But the close density of humanity in those narrow hand-carved tunnels of the Salt Mines was just too much for him. He doesn’t mind tight spaces, but the poor little petal can’t cope with crowds.

Later, cruising down the highway south of there, we were surprised at the amount of traffic we encountered, which only got worse as we neared the tourist destination of Zakopane at the foot of the Tatras, until finally the traffic became nearly as intense and diabolical as in Krakow! Long traffic snarls and jams became the norm. We wondered what this place must be like in the busy season, as we were visiting it in the off-season! Goodness me!

The crowds of people, and the rows upon rows of tourist-trap booths and shops selling trinkets was appalling. It was similar, and just as gruesome, as what we’d encountered on Poland’s western Baltic Coast during the peak season. Not our cup of tea.

To add insult to injury the constant rain was grey and misty, and those fabulous mountains that we had come so far to see were hidden, all occluded by the clouds, much to our great disappointment. Stopping the night in a car-park, for just a few shekels, we went to bed hoping that the clouds would clear for us on the morrow.

But it was not to be. The rain and fog persisted, but we pushed on, ever hopeful that we could still enjoy this mountainous part of the world.

We drove through the misty rain, over what must have been high peaks on big roads with fast traffic until we crossed the border into Slovenia, our twelfth country for this journey. The weather had cleared by the time we had left the mountains, but it was a Sunday, so nearly everything was closed. Not that it looks like Slovenia would be bustling at any other time, but we did find a small shop to spend a few Euros in. We also stopped for a traditional Slovakian meal in one little town we drove through. We like to spread the wealth around a bit. Rod wussed out and had a burger (which was big and delicious), but Georgie had traditional crumbed fried cheese with sculpted chips and salad.

Eventually we stopped by a big lake – a dam really – and relaxed for fika (Swedish traditional coffee and cinnamon bun which has become a bit of a staple for us), and then the phone rang! It was Rod’s son calling from Australia to wish him a happy Father’s Day! That was wonderful! A long conversation ensued which was most enjoyable. He’s a good lad.

Feeling buoyed by this we moved on until the van decided to play up. An orange light on the dash pinged and the machine suddenly lost power. Uh oh. The light, according to the book, was the ad-blue injector having a hissy fit and malfunctioning. So we found a van park back over the border in Poland and settled in until we could get it fixed.

We lost a couple of the final days of our holidays, but did get the jolly thing repaired, before heading off again. Previously, the machine had kept telling us that it was overdue for an oil change – which we had notified the rental company about, but received no reply from them. But then the plurry bully of an on-board computer slowly started shutting the engine down as punishment for us for not obeying its orders quickly enough. It must be noted that Rod hates computers with a vengeance!

Anyhow, an oil change and a mollified computer later, we were back on the road and exploring a place called Holy Mountain. It is, (reputedly) a volcanic outcrop that is now littered with religious structures, and is a point of pilgrimage for lots of people at certain times of the year. We ate a lovely traditional Polish meal in a restaurant there, even though we couldn’t read the menu. Georgie just asked the sweet young waitress to bring us something that she would like to order for her parents. It was delicious and very filling! We didn’t need dinner that night.

Rod went for walk in the pretty forests and accidentally stumbled across a huge crumbling amphitheatre that we had read about. It was like something from Ancient Greece or Italy, hidden deep in amongst the trees. He dashed back to the car and fetched Georgie.

It turned out that it used to be a limestone quarry back in the early 1800s, but then the Nazis came and constructed an amphitheatre there during the 1930s and built a structure on the cliff above it. After the Nazis left, the locals tore down the clifftop structure and replaced it with another one commemorating the struggles of the Polish workers. The amphitheatre is crumbling to pieces, but is still apparently a site that the pilgrims visit.

Moving on further up the mountain we called in to the famous church perched on the very top, which was incredibly elaborately decorated. A service was being held so we didn’t take any photos. Georgie was thrilled with the place, but Rod less so. He finds all the paintings and statues depicting pain and suffering in those sorts of places a little too gruesome for him.

We went back and forth over the border of the Czech Republic (our thirteenth country for this adventure) and Poland over the next few days, driving alongside rivers that were the border, and upon roads that actually bordered the two countries.

The Czech town of Jesenik had some amazing mountains, over which we drove via a beautiful forested pass, and there were some wonderful natural rock structures called the Devil’s Marbles that we clambered to the top of. We tried to get to a few other places in Czechia, but were foiled by rough dirt roads that we were not game enough to take the big campervan on. We can’t have the poor little delicate wussy computer getting upset at us again! Oooh no!

Then we read about the Polish military shooting down Russian war drones over Poland! That’s the country we were currently in! Suddenly the need to get the van back to Germany in a few days, and then escape home to the opposite side of the planet, became even more urgent. We feel so sorry for all the lovely people that live their daily lives under that horrible threat.

There is an amazing National Park we visited that not only has beautiful forested mountains, but also stunning red granite outcrops that jut up in crazy shapes and forms. We both wandered up to the peak of a large rocky mountain top to bathe in the glorious views. It was a good leg stretch. The forests were mossy, wet, and dark, but unfortunately – just like the rest of Europe and the British Isles – are being ravaged by tree disease. There were swathes of trees that have been decimated by Larch Disease or something similar. Patches of glorious tall fir trees are crumbling and dying. Luckily there are still huge areas that are unaffected, and those that do remain are stunningly beautiful.

Georgie the amazing navigatrix found us numerous mountain passes to drive over on narrow bumpy roads, giving us views of lovely back country and villages well off the beaten track. Slow travel through pretty country, seeing lots of unexpected sights. That’s what we do so well. We also drove through lots of touristy ski resort towns that had plenty of fancy steep-roofed buildings and scores of trinket shops. The beautiful mountains surrounding those tacky tourist traps made it worth passing through. Tourism is a huge part of both Poland and Czechia’s economy these days.

Constantly criss-crossing over borders was unusual. At one point we passed through three countries in the space of about thirty minutes. The German border guards were amused to see the novelty of Australian passports. We are a pretty rare breed in those parts.

We saw so many huge, stunning, and elaborate buildings in Czechia which were built about a hundred years ago that are in desperate need of renovation. Render flaking off the outer walls, roofs crumbling in, windows gone, trees growing out of them. The economy back then must have been vibrant to have those amazing structures built, but unfortunately so much of it is crumbling now. Whether it is because the old buildings are protected under heritage conservation laws but are far too expensive to repair, we don’t know. We were informed by our river guide in Gdansk that it is the reason why there are so many old falling-down buildings in Poland, so perhaps it is the same for Czechia.

The plan was to move towards Dresden in Germany and maybe do some cultural stuff. Rod’s son had recommended Dresden to us, so we thought we’d give it a go. We knew that much the city had been saturation firebombed during the utter insanity of WW2, and totally destroyed to a metre deep in the soil, but apparently it has been rebuilt and is a beautiful metropolis now. We hoped that the ghosts of that rabidly insane world of the 40s wouldn’t spoil it for us.

Rod’s son was right, Dresden is a very beautiful city with very special architecture built along the Elbe River. We somehow managed to find a parking spot for our big van right in the centrum (city centre), and a random kind lady even gave us a ticket to cover our parking until 8:00 am the next morning! It did take about 170 tiny back-and-forth adjustments to squeeze the big beast in to the minuscule parking slot, but we did it!

So we set off on foot down the cobbled streets to explore the Albertinum Art Museum. What a fantastic place! It is probably the very best art museum we have visited here in Europe, with a huge range of classical and modern sculptures. We do love sculptures! There is a large collection of paintings by Romantic and Modern Masters, plus a magnificent installation and a varied display of work by the South African artist William Kentridge. His art is genius! They have paintings and sculptures from all the masters: Michaelangelo, Rodin, Matise, Degas, Klimt, Van Gogh, Picasso, Warhol, Monet, etc, etc. The collection is mind boggling. We spent many hours in there, finally stumbling out to hand over our freebee parking ticket to the next random person.

Finding a place to stay on our last night in Germany was difficult. Nothing is open on a Sunday, even trucks over 7.5 tonnes are not allowed to drive, so that the roads are clear for holiday makers and other road users. The only place we could find that we could access, and then empty our toilet cassette before returning the van, was a free spot with no gates, but unfortunately no shower. We figured we would have to shower at the airport.

Having travelled through so many countries of late, Rod feels he now has an idea of what it must be like to be illiterate. Daily trying to make sense of signs – many of which were totally beyond our comprehension, but sometimes were able to get a faint gist of what it was about. We have tried to understand bits of nine different languages, most of which was to no avail. We did try to remember “Thank you” in almost every language (except Czech), which was a big help and often elicited smiles from people, but often we relied upon many folks, mostly young people, knowing some level of English.

It will be a relief to return to where we can read every road sign and every notice board. And to be able to speak to people without first apologising for being mono-lingual: “From Australia, only speak English!” – to which we often get raised eyebrows.

With only hours left in the Northern Hemisphere we are posting this blog soon, from the airport as we wait to board the plane. We have not had wifi for quite a while now.


Salt Mines


Pretty forest on Holy Mountain


Monument to the struggles of the Polish workers


Amphitheatre


Climbing up Devils Marbles

The view from Devils Marbles


Mossy forests


Rocky outcrop


Another rocky outcrop

Dresden

A bicycle built for six


Sculptures


More Dresden

Through Lithuania to Poland again

Just over the Latvian border, back into Lithuania again, we followed a brown heritage sign to a ‘sculpture park’ that had lots of unusual and abstract stone sculptures. They were all scattered about the vast lawns surrounding some new, clinically clean, white multistory buildings. But there was a weird and eerie atmosphere to the place, with elderly people shuffling about in silence, many of whom were quite taken aback when we smiled and said “Hello!” to them. Georgie said a couple of times that it felt like she was in a parallel universe.

The place turned out to be a ‘Sanatorium’ or ‘Wellness Centre’, and we nervously joked that we may get ushered away and tranquillised at any moment. It really had a ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest’ type of feel to it.

Some of the sculptures were really interesting and unique, but the whole place had that unusual ambience to it. We were happy to eventually get away from there. A strange (and a little bit creepy) white van with shaded windows and ‘Control’ written on the sides followed us out for a short way, then turned around. Phew! That was freaky!

We stayed the next night in a beach town that had a plethora of van parks right next to each other, but all were quite empty. One was even closed for what it seems to be the end of the busy tourist season. Later we walked through the mossy forest to investigate the beach, but came to a very tall sand cliff that led down to the water instead. The forest was nice though.

Hooting down the 130 kph highway we soon got tired of zooming past everything, and turned off onto a side road to do a bit of bimbling like we do so well. Soon we came across a village park that had lots of sculptures, so we stopped and went for a meander amongst the timber art works. It was lovely, and in such an unexpectedly remote little village too. We decided to take a further detour and investigate the museum just down another side road, and oh by golly we were glad we did. It was Lithuania’s oldest and smallest museum. Originally the antiques were stored in the trunk of a thousand year old oak tree

Inside the building were some brilliant metal artworks by a local artist that we ogled for quite a while. Then we investigated the preserved tree trunk of the ancient original museum and its slightly younger ‘brother’ which are now exhibits in their own right, protected by ‘A’ frame glass and metal buildings. Inside was a jaw bone from a blue whale and rib bones from a mammoth. Cool!

After leaving there we stopped at another random sculpture park that had beautiful and really quirky art works in it. The only depressing thing was to read how the sculptor, plus more than 300 of the local townsfolk, were murdered by the Nazis. Gosh the Baltic States did it tough for a while.

Following another brown heritage sign, we then visited a ‘Pilis’ (palace) which was not terribly impressive in itself, just another massive building belonging to the rich, but the great thing about it was we got to see a snake! A real live one, about 40 cm long! Prior to that we had only seen one snake in Europe, and that was a dead one squashed on the road, and that poor little thing had really tugged at our heart strings. But this little beauty was happily swimming in a pond, resting on lily pads and then swimming on further. Ah, lovely!

We then investigated another Pilis along the way that had really engaging architecture, except for all the animal corpses that filled heaps of the rooms. Decapitated deer skulls in their thousands were lining the walls of so many of rooms that we just had to get out of there. Far too gruesome for these two little Aussie softies, I’m afraid. It never fails to amaze us of the thirst for blood that consumes so many people.

We camped in a remote spot by the Nemunas River, a water course that travels across much of Lithuania and has quite a rapid flow to it. We set up fairly early in the evening, and other vampire cans (campervans some people call them) kept turning up for a while. Settling in early at wild camps has its advantages, as you tend to get the prime possies before anyone else.

The art galleries in Kaunas was our objective for the day, so we drove into that busy city to find a parking space. Luckily we chanced upon a spot in a side street then strolled off to first look at the ‘Devil Museum’. There were lots of amazing sculptures of all sorts of devils in there, some incredibly amusing and some quite awe inspiring. We also learned a lot abut the role of the devil in Baltic folklore.. Then we moved on to another art museum and perused so much incredible art (and some not so incredible), before we looked for a restaurant to eat some traditional Lithuanian food to fill our empty tummies.

We found a great spot that looked posh and expensive at first, but ended up eating a three course meal for about $17 Aus dollars each. Yum. The pink beetroot soup for starters is something that is quite common in Lithuania, and definitely something we need to introduce to Australia. It’s absolutely delicious and requires no cooking at all.

Crossing the border back into Poland again was the first time we’d been required to stop and show our passports since boarding the ferry to cross the Baltic Sea. The border guard was pleased to see Australian passports for the first time.

Along the way, Rod began to feel a little homesick; he missed his own bed, his roomy shower with loads of clean hot water, his privacy, his lounge to spread out on, his motorbike to go for a blurt on, his own sweet bananas and guavas from his tropical orchard, his shed full of tools, his dragonfly filled dam, the splendid huge multicoloured butterflies flitting to and fro, the cacophony of colourful wild birds in the rainforest tree tops, the tiny wild animals scuttering and hopping about the lawn, his sprawling property to wander about in, his own dog to pat and talk to, his veggie patch to tend, and to get up at any hour of the morning he wanted to and do any jobs he felt like. Sigh.

But then he sat on a jetty in Poland at a remote and empty camping site that we found, and grooved upon the stillness and quiet of the exotic forests that reached down to the crocodile-free reedy waters of a lake. He sipped upon an inexpensive and delicious Latvian beer, and he was satisfied.

Home will wait. Home will always be there. Right now we are in an exotic land, and the memories being created are priceless.

Driving through the somewhat flat, mostly agricultural land of eastern Poland, we did see quite a few cars pulled just off onto side roads into patches of forest. Naturally we just thought they were probably chanterelle pickers, like we’d seen throughout so much of these mossy pine forests of Northern Europe. But then we noticed that none of them were actually selling mushrooms, instead they were younger women just sitting in their car with the door open. Hmm. That brought back memories of the ‘Fireflies’ of Italy that we’d seen eight years ago. Young scantily dressed ladies sitting by the side of the road, that we initially took to be people who had just gone for a swim. We then found out that they were working girls, servicing the truckies that pass all day. We just hoped that if this is what those ladies were doing, it was of their own free will.

We settled into another quiet van park for the night – the summer tourist season is drawing to a close and most parks are all but empty now. No loud music to disturb us overnight. Yay!

Click photos to enlarge


Sanatorium sculpture


Sanatorium sculpture 2


Mossy forest


Great sculpture in a remote village


Now that’s a picnic shelter!


Magnificent metal sculture


Another magnificent metal sculpture


Lithuania’s oldest museum with a mammoth’s ribs and a blue whale’s jaw bone


Weird sculpture


Another weird sculpture


Yet another weird sculpture,


She’s been framed!


Just a little boy


Beautiful sculpture


Weird devil sculptures


Another weird devil sculpture


Gorgeous sculpture


Another gorgeous sculpture


The remote lakeside campsite


Stunning fungi

On to Latvia

The day started examining the palace at Trakai in Lithuania, before moving on to check out the castle out on its own island in the lake.

The palace is set in 80 acres of lush green grounds abutting the lake, with lots of outbuildings that used to be things like the stablehouse, bargeman’s house, servants quarters, gatehouse and several others. One structure was dated 1866, but was in very good repair. The whole place was well restored and in very good condition, which is amazing considering how the Nazis and Soviets treated it when they each in turn occupied the palace. Now the Lithuanian government does a grand job of keeping it beautiful for the people to visit, charging only a couple of euros to visit the palace museum, but the grounds are free for all to enjoy.

The museum is full of magnificent art works and furniture, and was every bit worth the two euros we paid as seniors. Just about every museum and art gallery in Lithuania is half price for seniors! Very civilised.

We found the castle to be a bit of a tourist trap, but impressive nevertheless. Lots of souvenir stalls lined the waterfront leading up to it, and there were reasonably sized crowds milling about when you consider it was not tourist season anymore. We decided to not pay the entrance fee and instead just walked around the outside. It must be said though, that the government is doing lots of maintenance work on that ancient structure.

After bimbling about some smaller roads and taking ages to cover very little distance at all, we girded our loins and hooted up the mega highway at 130 kph. They are not quite the autobahns of Germany, but the freeways here are pretty fast.

After missing the turn-off to the spot where we wanted to stay the night, we swerved off onto a road that led to a small town in the hope of turning about and maybe finding a shop to buy some milk. We kept coming up to weird locked gates blocking the streets that lead up to the houses. Everywhere was behind security gates. A bit creepy! We high-tailed it out of there and found another place to buy milk.

That night we encountered clouds of scarily silent mosquitoes. No warning whine, they effectively sneak up on you. We realised that at our last lakeside camp the mozzies had the same silent properties too. You are blissfully unaware that the beasties are attacking and sucking your blood, until you feel the sting and the subsequent itching.

We were allowed to set up overnight in an Ethnographic Museum’s carpark for just a couple of euros, along with a couple of other vans. In the morning we went for a wander through the museum, not really knowing what to expect from an ‘Outdoor Ethnographic Museum’.

Well, it was better than we could have guessed, what a great place. Traditional buildings up to two hundred years old from all over Lithuania had been transported there and set up in little ‘villages’ according to the regions that they were from. We learned a lot about rope making, and even watched a bloke using a loom to make a blanket. The grounds were expansive, and had enough room for lots of villages, windmills, and all sorts of traditional craftsman buildings. It had a couple of churches too, packed with collected sculptures and other paraphernalia of religious sufferance.

When we visited the old schoolhouse, the attendant lady there encouraged Rod to sit in the teacher’s chair when she was informed that he was one. Georgie sat at a student’s desk. The old teacher’s motorbike was really cool. One building had a secret schoolroom, because the Soviets had banned them and sent many of the teachers to Siberia.

Perhaps Georgie’s favourite part was a room packed full of ancient grotesque masks, that are still used for traditional Uzgavenes celebrations that mark the end of winter and start of spring. They were unlike anything we’d ever seen before. Rod’s favourite was all the tool workshops and equipment barns, and even a really early ‘horseless carriage’, older than anything he’d ever laid eyes on! Amazing!

There was so much cultural stuff there that it would take a couple of days to see it all. But after nearly six hours of trudging around we were beat, and retreated back to the van to put the kettle on.

Following that amazing experience we drove to the city of Kaunas, ostensibly to scour the 2nd hand stores there, but we also enjoyed walking down an old town cobblestone pedestrian street with interesting shops along the way. We picked up a brilliant Arctic-style all weather jacket for our trip to South America next year (which matches the fantastic one we bought in Sweden), plus Rod found the best boots he’d ever slipped his oversized plates-of-meat into. Perfect for trekking in Antarctica! And all for just a couple of shekels too.

We camped in a parkland setting where quite a few young Lithuanians were having BBQs and gatherings. We were astounded how quiet and well behaved they were, especially when you compare them to other Europeans we have been forced to endure listening to in van parks across Europe.

When we stepped out of the van in the morning there were a few chanterelle mushrooms growing in the moss. The largest one had already been knocked out of the ground by something so we picked that up, but left the others to grow.

Further down the road we followed a brown tourist sign to Babtynos Manor just to check it out. When we pulled up there were lots of ladies dressed in white who were obviously there for a function of some sort. We asked a couple what was going on, and they invited us in to join the party. Hesitantly we followed them to a huge old house that was surrounded by lots of quirky and unusual freestyle statues. Rod was the only male there, and neither of us was dressed for the occasion, but they were all very inviting and offered us drinks and to join in.

We eventually felt a little too out of place and like we were gate crashers, so we said our goodbyes. And then the owner showed up. Another male. All dressed in white. The ladies encouraged us to walk around and check the place out, so we went upstairs and were blown away by the brilliant contemporary restoration of the old manor. It was a fantastic combination of modern artistic décor with lots of rough and original walls and staircases. The walls were plastered with great art pieces, and outside there were brilliant sculptures scattered all about.

We wandered over to the old barn and were gobsmacked to see a collection of old vehicles lining the walls. The whole place was an absolute gem. We assumed the owner to be a rich and successful artist, who is lovingly restoring the property to his own taste. He was clearly hosting the event, and as we left, we saw he was giving a speech to the attendees, to great applause. Gobsmacked is the word we both used.

Then we moved on to the Hill of Crosses. It is a significant cultural and religious site that showcases the Lithuanian people’s refusal to be subjugated by their Soviet oppressors. Despite numerous attempts to burn and melt down the crosses on the hill by the Soviets, the local people kept rebuilding and rebuilding it. They didn’t give in, and continued in the face of the awful communist attempts at repression. It now has hundreds of thousands of crosses all over the hillock, a lump that stands out from the surrounding flat agricultural land, and used to be the site of an old wooden fortress, way back in the 1300s. It is quite impressive as a sign of resilience in the face of almost impossible odds.

Then we spontaneously decided to go just that little bit further and cross the border into Latvia, our eleventh country for this little adventure!

We slept next to a cemetery that night. Gosh the Latvians look after their dead well! Such a neat and well maintained place for all those dead people, much better than most of the run-down houses that many of the living people reside in.

The widest waterfall in Europe, the Venta Rapid at Kuldiga, was on our agenda next, an incredibly broad cascade that reached an amazing two metres high! Oh my goodness gracious me! A lovely traditional tomato and sweet potato soup was enjoyed whilst watching the tumbling falls. A stroll around the sculpture littered gardens nearby was enjoyed before we climbed some rickety stairs to check out a magnificent glass exhibition by a local artist. It was in a tastefully semi-renovated traditional building that just really added to the experience of the fabulous glass objects d’ art. That was amazing!

Then it was on to the sand caves, incredible burrows where pure white sand was excavated to make high quality glass. On the way there, just after Rod had remarked that we were driving through fantastic chanterelle-picking forests, we saw an old bloke who had picked a couple of bucket fulls of those magnificent mushrooms walking back along the road. We stopped and bought a container full of them off him for just a couple of euros before proceeding on to the caves. That was most satisfying.

After doing the tourist trap of the ‘caves’ we proceeded on to the Latvian Baltic coast to go for a wander on their ‘blue ribbon beaches’. Later, Georgie found an amazing campsite down a 12 km corrugated dirt road near Ziemupe, where there were very few people but lots of trees. And no mozzies thank goodness! We took the short stroll to the long empty beach, then returned to sit around a campfire for the evening.

Click photos to enlarge


Inside the Trakai Palace Museum


Brilliant horse sculpture outside the palace


Trakai Castle


The teacher’s motorbike at the Lithuanian Outdoor Ethnographic Museum


Beautiful buggy at the Lithuanian Outdoor Ethnographic Museum


Uzgavenes masks at the Lithuanian Outdoor Ethnographic Museum


The oldest ‘horseless carriage’ we’ve ever seen


The cutest little windmill (actual functioning) we’ve ever seen


Inside Babtynos Manor’s barn


A tiny section of ‘The Hill of Crosses’


A lake we camped by in Latvia


Europe’s widest waterfall


Brilliant sculpture at Kuldiga


Another brilliant sculpture at Kuldiga


Sculpted bridge at the Sand Caves


Weird Sea Buckthorn berries on a farm near Ziemupe


Camping in the woods at Ziemupe. You can just see another van nearby


Yummy chanterelle mushrooms, soon to be dinner