Vinius, Lithuania

Vilnius, Lithuania

Latitude 54.69 N 25.27˚

November 29, 2017

It was hard not to like Vilnius.  Despite the gloomy weather, days spent in mist and light rain and the ever-present shades of grays and blacks that make up this landscape at this time of year, it was a beautiful…elegant, actually, city.  Elegant.  Not a word used much to describe a city, but Vilnius was elegant.

I’d come from Riga—the Art Nouveau capital of Europe and landed in Vilnius four hours later in the Baroque Center of Europe.  Relatively unscathed during World War II, the city is probably as beautiful as it was 200 years ago, although UNESCO money certainly hasn’t hurt in the reconstruction of the inner core.  In the New Town, Nouveau once again dominated, and all of it I very good shape. 

I saw a wedding, had my afternoon glass of white wine in nice trendy little bars, went to a classical guitar concert, spent an afternoon at the National Museum, trekked in parks and walked miles and never saw the whole of the city. 

Late afternoon of the Saturday I was in Vilnus, I walked into a church expecting, well...a church.  Inside was dark and full of candlelight.  After the steam from my glasses cleared I could see I was in a Russian Orthodox Church and Mass was just beginning.  I could tell you that God is in heaven and that heaven is sometime in the future, but for one hour I was in heaven on earth.  The entire service was sung.  One choir, flawless, would finish when a counter-choir of female voices would take over.  It was one of those times in my life when I experienced a God-moment.  I know nothing of Russian Orthodox services. I do not know if what I saw was a Mass.  Whatever it was, was stunningly beautiful and ethereal.  It was this connection to Orthodoxy that was one of the most enjoyable aspects of Lithuania, and Latvia as well.  Whenever I passed a Russian Orthodox church I’d stop in, light two candles, sit and give thanks for all this trip has been and will continue to be.

For two days, I chose to leave the city.  One day I went to Lithuania’s second largest city, Kaunas, put 25,000 steps on my pedometer and came back tired but pleased.  Only ninety minutes away, it was a very different place.  The old town was beginning to look like Christmas and there were nary a tourist in site.  Art deco competed with Nouveau, but mostly it was post World War II modern architecture that I saw.  For almost a mile a pedestrian walkway leads from a road that connects to the train station to the Old Town.  The day was quiet and relaxing and I didn’t feel I had to be anywhere at all.

Another day I visited the small city of Trakei, thirty minutes outside of Vilnius.  Trakei is more of a summer town and its lakeside homes were closed for the winter.  I walked the 2.5 km from the train station to the Old Town.  It was colder than it had been in several days and it was nice to gulp in the cold, clear air of this lovely little Lithuanian lake district town.  I’d come here to see a reconstructed 14^th Century Gothic castle built on an island.  It was another relaxing day, although the lunch I had got me sick 24 hours later.

As odd as it might sound, one of things I enjoyed most were the short days.  It was never really light until 9:00 am and by 3:00 pm he day was shutting down.  I have a different relationship with the sun than I did ten years ago and this time of darkness is a pleasure.

I’m not sorry to leave.  I enjoyed my stay in these two countries but it’s time to move on.  Somehow, we instinctively know these things if we’ve traveled enough.   Lithuania turned out to be a sleeper.  Of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania it’s to here that I would return.   But my bucket list is still long, and time is running out.  It’s not likely I’ll return but I would.

On my last night there, I looked skyward.  A pale half-moon hung in the sky—a sign that maybe the next day would be clearer and less cloudy.  But the night had turned cold and there was a blue, dewy texture to the darkness.  I made my way to Town Hall square and looked once again the Christmas tree the city was still setting up.  The markets were still shuttered and wouldn’t open until next weekend when I would be far away.

Oh well.  More Christmas markets await, and far better ones.  It was but a small disappointment in an otherwise lovely visit.  This is a city, and country, to which I’d return—but in better weather when the days are long and more time is allotted for exploring further afield.