I think it’s Friday?

I know we are in Latvia, though.

In Riga, to be precise.

We didn’t have to set the alarm this morning, for we were not due into Riga until 10.  So, by the time I opened the curtains and took a breath of fresh air, our pilot was sailing alongside.

We enjoyed our breakfast sailing up the river, sitting outside with our friends, noting the different landscape on each side of the river: a heavy industrial scene on one side; green countryside and forest on the other.

It was all looking very interesting and we looked forward to getting ashore to see the city.

We had an excellent parking spot!

We had chosen a city tour, beginning with a bus-based overview but followed by a couple of hours walking.  As we drove from the terminal, we were surprised at the grand buildings.  Most of these in the “quiet part” of the city were built towards the end of the nineteenth century or early 20th and now featured as hotels, offices and some apartments.  Very nice indeed,

Riga has still got a few signs of the old Soviet days here and there, but these are few and far between.

We left our coach by the bridge and wandered into the Town Hall square, amidst a lovely collection of what looked like very old buildings,  However, though they looked old, most were renovations or total rebuilds of what stood there before the war.  What was especially annoying here was the exhibition of photographs of Slovenia.  Not that we have anything against the place, but we hadn’t come to see those, we’d come to see what lay behind them.  What with the very bright sunshine and the photographs, it proved difficult – no impossible – to get a decent picture of the Black Head House, the red brick facade behind.

Restored in 1990, the gable end was spectacular, but I’m afraid you’ll simply have to take our ward for it.

Opposite the medieval hall, then, was the classical Town Hall.

and in stark contrast, the Soviet-era building behind us, some kind of college we thought.

As we moved on to our next stop, I snagged a quick snapshot of the Black Heads house and cursed those pictures of Solvenia once again!

We walked in and around the city for the next couple of hours, stopping every so often to take note of a landmark and to listen to a story or two.  Gita, our guide was great and brought her city to life for us.  In front of this church, we learned of the architect sitting on top of the golden rooster up there at the top of the rather vulnerable spire, drinking red wine.  As he threw the glass down, he wished for his spire to last as many years as the pieces of shattered glass – except the glass landed in a passing hay cart.  When that spire suffered a strike of lighning some years later, the next architect took particular care and threw his champagne glass more carefully, ensuring it shattered into hundreds of pieces!

We saw fragments of old city walls

picturesque corners of the old town

and places that we might return if we had the chance

We were blessed with amazing weather once more, though out of the sun, there was a chill wind.

The Opera house was looking grand and standing here, Gita told us about the rich music and dance tradition of Latvia.  We have shared some of it of course, with Andris Nelsons conducting the Birmingham Symphony Orchestra and his wife Kristine Opolais, who sings with the Met Opera from time to time. 

The Freedom monument is quite a landmark here and offered another focus for a few stories of the Soviet days, when no-one dare hang around nearby for fear of the consequences.  But these days, it provides a place for Latvians to celebrate special days in the calendar, though depending on one’s heritage, they can differ.  The varied history of the country has resulted in family divisions, with some members being conscripted to the German forces, whilst others found themselves on the opposing Russian side.  Such sentiments linger long.

On we went then, past the Guildhouses, now concert and exhibition halls,

past the black cat cafe, where a potential guild member was blackballed and showed his disdain by placing a cat facing the Guildhall.  Originally, the cat was facing away, with its raised tail pointing towards the institution but a recent renovation turned it 180 degrees and into a more polite position!

Riga has many fine Jugendstil or Art Nouveau buildings, and we stopped in front of this one to note some of the features.

You might guess I’d love the two fine bears sitting on the balcony?

But I also liked the apprentice, sitting on one of the pediments, studying his books and hoping to join the guild himself one day.

Standing in the next street, Gita gave us a couple of shopping/souvenir tips before setting us loose for a half hour.  Latvian Balsam is apparently the drink to cure all evils, though heaven knows what it tastes like!

She recommended Laima, Latvian chocolate, too.  (yes of course we bought some!)

and Latvian amber.  But since we satisfied our amber needs in Klaipeda yesterday, you know where we headed, don’t you?!  Back to the mitten shop for a bit of Latvian knitting

Had I more time, I might have succumbed to some linen, but now I know I can get it at home (thanks Marion!) we moved right along.

And so we moved on, through more narrow streets, past more landmarks and other beautiful buildings.

We stood in the centre of Riga to admire the cathedral.  How did I know I was standing in the centre?

That bright sunshine made taking photographs really tricky!

We admired the front of the former bank on the corner here, complete with bullet damage

and we learned of the Latvian preference for catching every bit of sunshine by sitting outside as much as possible.  “Until their beer freezes over”, said Gita.

The Swedish Gate led to another historic area – I had totally lost my bearings by now.

So I took a picture of the name of the street, just so I could work out where we’d been.

This was a typical medieval street, slightly curved, cobbled (each farmer visiting the city was asked to bring two stones from his fields or he’d be refused entry) and draining to the middle.

When we stopped in front of this unassuming building, we wondered what story we’d hear next.  No story though: this is the Latvian Parliament.

It’s hardly a grand entrance, is it?

From there, we had just one more street to explore.  Three old houses, known as the three brothers,

Here’s the oldest, 15th century, I think we were told.

Right behind us was the last church of our tour, whose unique feature was a test for those who had seen it.  Have you ever seen a bell hang outside a church steeple?

Well yes, in Riga of course.  The bell is still there but is no longer rung.

Feeling weary and with sore feet from all those cobbles, we were quite glad to catch sight of our bus again.

But as I looked out of the window, we could have walked it home!

We woke up in Lithuania

And as we have never been here before, it warranted a loud “ker-ching” when we stepped on dry land!

I poked my nose out first thing this morning and was glad to see what looked to be another lovely day outside.

I soon stepped back in though, because it appeared we were being observed!

We went out to join our tour group after breakfast and found there was a delightful welcome party to greet us.  It’s always lovely to arrive somewhere new to a musical accompaniment: this group were playing tuneful Lithuanian folk songs.

We drove out of the port area and the first thing to be pointed out was the old castle mound – no castle left now, but it seems a new one is planned and who knows what we might see there in a few years time?

We’re actually in Klaipeda – or were, until we drove out through the suburbs and into the countryside.

We were heading for Palanga, a small old town not far from here but with one clear difference.  Palanga had always been Lithuanian, whereas since the 15th century, Klaipeda (Memel) and the surrounding countryside had been part of Prussia (and subsequently Germany, of course).  Asta, our lovely guide told us stories of that time and of life under Russian administration, when life here had been very tough indeed.  The rich and varied history of this area is a lot to take in, though my Hero and the family historian back in England enjoyed a text conversation as we drove along.

Shortly, we arrived at the park gates in Palanga.  The Palace had been built in this lovely parkland by Count Feliksas Tiskevicius and his wife with their family of ten children. Sadly, their home had been taken over during the war and they all had to flee to safety, but now, it is publicly owned and operates as a museum and public park.

Just inside the gates was a sign, but as we don’t speak Lithuanian, we had no idea it was announcing an open air exhibition of communication-related plant installations.  As we walked towards the palace, we came across them one by one and soon worked it out.

Little groups of mailboxes caught our eye to begin with.

I thought them pretty neat and really well maintained.  Asta said she thought the greenery was refreshed every so often which would explain how they looked so fresh.

A little further along was the postman’s bicycle and another mailbox.  It was just about 9am by now, so the shadows were very dark – sorry about that.

The last one before we entered the palace gardens was this “quill pen”, very cleverly imagined, I think, with an ink pot and sheet of paper alongside, too.

From here, the palace looked splendid and the gardens surrounding it were at their best in the sunshine.

Everything was spick and span and taking Asta’s advice to walk straight past the “witch’s house” without stopping, for fear of what might become of us, we headed straight up the steps and into the palace.

Here’s Asta, dressed as the Countess, to whom she was related in some way.  She was a great guide!

Whilst waiting for someone, I spotted this charming   ?weathervane?  in the ticket office. I have no idea what it’s made of nor if it has any use whatsoever.  I just love things like this and had to take a picture of it.

At the top of the first flight of stairs we entered a small reception area and on the wall were portraits of the Count and Countess.  Several were interested to know what became of them and Asta did her best to explain.

She told us that the Countess loved roses and suggested we look out for them around the house.  I spotted only this one and one other,

although the family rooms overlooked the semi-circular rose garden, which she enjoyed too, we were told.

The Count’s study was the room of a young man, with his desk facing the window out onto the garden, too.

It was attractively staged, with an open book and map (battle plan?) left open on his desk.  From here, we went though to the staircase and climbed to the next floor, where there is now an Amber Museum.

Here was a wealth of information about Amber, one of the key local products and the foundation for many myths and legends of the region.

It was really well displayed with magnifiers and lights to enable us to see the trapped insects and other such phenomena.  But as Asta advised, any yellow piece with a scorpion inside is definitely plastic!

There were other displays of historic amber, mostly found in tombs having been buried with the owner.  Women were buried with useful things too, such as amber spinning whorls.  This area is also known for fine linen and I imagine spinning was a common occupation.

How interesting that the women were buried with the tools and useful things whilst the men got the jewellery, hair combs and suchlike!

We exited through what Asta called “the trap” – the giftshop – though it was interesting to see some of the jewellery made with black metal, rather like the iron designs we’d seen in Schwerin.  I don’t know what metal this was and didn’t really want to get into conversation about something I wasn’t going to buy.

It was time to head out through the Countess’ rose garden and back to the park entrance, spotting some of the installations we missed on the way in.

I guess pencils are a pretty effective means of communication

but we are in the 21st century and perhaps SMS is quicker?

There were envelopes with interesting contents.

and finally, a cute little mossy postbox I’d spotted on the way in but failed to capture with my camera.  Can you see the birds (messenger pigeons?) in the tree?

Having see the palace and the park, we drove a short distance to the old town of Palanga, which turned out to be nothing like as interesting as we’d hoped.

Asta had told us it’s a resort town and on this Thursday morning, it looked pretty deserted.

We took a short look in the (catholic) church before taking a stroll along the “main street”.

Lined with restaurants (closed) and souvenir shops, it wasn’t really the kind of place to detain us long.

Though I did take a picture of a lovely picture.

I also took a picture of written Lithuanian, which we were told (and which you surely knew already) is one of the oldest languages in the world and is most closely related to sanskrit.

As we returned to meet our group, I noticed that, had we headed in the opposite direction, we might have come across something a little more interesting.  Never mind.

We returned to Klaipeda, where a cold beer awaited us.  Sveikatą!

Thereafter, a quick zoom around town with Asta, who told stories of the great fire, which hit this row of wooden warehouses badly.

This river had been so crammed with ships, she told us that you could cross it by stepping from one ship to the next, and that as the city burned, people came and sat here, by the water and cried.  One of those people was said to be Heinrich Schielmann who went on to discover the treasures of Troy.

A little further along, we came upon the cat.  “This is a cat for men”, she said.  I’ll leave it to your imagination what is promised if you rub the cat’s tail and won’t say whether I encouraged my Hero to give it a try or told him there was no need

The streets here are all named after the businesses which are to be found there.  So, I know the cat is in Shoemaker’s street, but have no idea what these two signs mean.

Around the corner is the stature for ladies – the mouse, who listens to our wishes and grants them.  Well, yes, of course I gave it a go!  It’s not every day that opportunity comes along.

Back into Theatre Square we went then, where a monument to the German poet Simon Dach had a statue of his lost love (who happened to be his best friend’s wife).  hmm.

And that, was that for Klaipeda.  Pretty nice all round and as we said to Asta, we knew nothing of her country until today and how pleased we were to be here in her company.

She pointed out the statue of the small boy waving goodbye, but he was already attracting a great deal of attention, so we thanked her and came inside.

She gave us each a card and a small souvenir of Klaipeda in the form of a bag of amber chips.  She had told us how these can be soaked in alcohol and a teaspoonful of the resulting elixir will work wonders of any ailment.  Now we have the magic ingredient, maybe we’ll give it a try.

What a great day!

On that same afternoon

We arrived back in Warnemünde in time to explore the town itself because by all accounts, it was well worth a visit.

It was only a short walk, past this Russian tall ship and through a tunnel beneath the railway tracks into town.

On such a glorious afternoon, everyone was out enjoying the fine weather and the harbour was bustling with visitors and locals alike.

We wandered up the riverside walk, taking note of the ice cream shops, the smoked fish shops and the inevitable bucket and spade emporia.

A short trip around the bay would have been a good idea, had we not got something a little longer in mind for the next few days.

The mouth of the river was marked by a lighthouse and an elegant bronze statue.

As we stood admiring it all, a small boat came in, returning from a fishing trip.  That had been one of our options for this morning and though it might have been fun, it was hard to imagine how we could have enjoyed anything as much as our visit to Schwerin.

Hot on the tails of the fishing boat was a Scandinavian ferry.  It would be easy to sit and pass several hours here, just watching the ships come and go.

But we wanted to see more of the town and the beach.  As you can see, we weren’t very far from home.

We ambled along the promenade until we came to an opening and turned right to head for the beach.

This was a well maintained stretch of sand, perfect to bring the family, as many had done today.

Typical of the Baltic Sea beaches, the Strandkorbchen were available for hire.  the German equivalent of a deckchair, they were set out in rows for miles along the sand.

As far as the eye can see.

Not everyone wants to sit in a Strandkorbchen though, and there were areas where some were simply sitting on towels, but others had brought small tent-type sunshades.  These seemed especially popular with families who had very small children, who very sensibly take sun care seriously.

I was impressed too, by the accessibility of the beach.  Not only was there a walkway from the promenade right down to the water, with changing rooms and loos nearby,

there were facilities for those needing assistance to get into the water too.  So good that everyone here can enjoy the fresh, clear water of the Baltic Sea.

Yes, of course I couldn’t resist!  As I stood, ankle deep in the clear, fresh water, I had a conversation with a German woman nearby.  Was the water “frisch” or was it “kalt”?  We ummed and aahed and decided that yes, it as “kalt”!  She didn’t go any further than knee deep!

I have swum in these waters, just before I met my Hero, when I was in this part of Germany with the Isle of Wight Youth Orchestra.  Maybe I’d have gone in again today, but I didn’t have swimming things with me and the German FKK tradition wasn’t so appealing right now.

Back to the prom, then, with fresh, cool (and sandy) feet!

We walked back past the artdeco Kurhaus, where people would come to stay for a therapeutic holiday and enjoy treatments for various ailments.  Germany has a long tradition of “kur” and in the pre-reunification days, workers would be prescribed time here every few years.  I can imagine that a week in such surroundings would be very therapeutic indeed, but I’d want this weather too!

Our route back to the ship took us along leafy streets lined with guest houses and small hotels.

Past more bucket and spade type stores.

And past a small supermarket, where I nipped in to get a few packets of our favourite sauce and a couple of magazines.  I was interested to see the plastic bottle recycling unit here in the entrance, and the queue of youngsters waiting to deposit their empty water bottles in it.  I didn’t get a close look but it appeared to do more than simply store the bottles in there – it certainly crushed them and possibly offered a small financial incentive too.

In no time at all, we were home again, feeling ready for a shower and a cool glass of something.  The evening promised to be interesting: we had arranged to meet friends for drinks, we had dinner planned and then a show.

Not a dull moment whatsoever.

(which is probably why I’m still blogging about yesterday today!)

and then

we crossed the landing, with Hans Peter, the castle guide, and were shown into the first of several beautiful rooms.

 

On the way, I noticed this lovely frieze, the motifs beautifully picked out in finely painted detail.  The castle was in great shape and had been very well restored/maintained.

The first room, the “room of legends” was decorated with scenes from traditional German history and folklore.  I imagine that, if you are the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Schwerin, you would have a rich history of your own family to record in this way, too.  Suffice to say, this was a lovely room indeed and it was a good job Hans Peter pointed out the floor or else I might have overlooked it completely.

Fine marquetry patterns were worked in there, reminiscent of Hawaiian quilting and applique designs.  Right up my street.

Though there was time to look at things properly and listen to Hans Peter, he kept things moving along and we were soon in the next room, named after the gentleman in the cameo above our heads: Field Marshall Blücher. 

Another beautiful wooden floor, with exquisite marquetry patterns making the most of the wide range of colours and grain of the timber.

“Anyone from Canada?” Hans Peter asked in the next room.  Someone identified herself, to which Hans Peter replied “Thank you!”  This room was panelled in Canadian Maple, and if your attention was not overwhelmed by the amazing porcelain displays, gifts sent down the river from Russia, you’d have noted yet another superb floor.  An interesting fact about the porcelain was shared by Hans Peter, though: the huge and very fragile porcelain vessels were packed with butter for their journey down the river – what a great means of keeping them intact, don’t you agree?

The ceiling in here was interesting too, and we were challenged to suggest the material from which it had been made.  It wasn’t wood, nor was it plaster. Quite often in such circumstances, the answer is leather, but I imagined it to be way too fine for that to be correct.  In the end, Hans Peter had to tell us: Papier mache!

Moving through the rooms, via the Sylvesterzimmer,  a narrow room with a fireplace where lead would be melted on New Year’s Eve and dropped into water to form a shape, from which the future could be told.  “You British read tea leaves.  We have a slightly different method”.  As we progressed, I scribbled notes, no longer attempting to draw those floor patterns though, for they were coming thick and fast and every one was different.  The floor in Grand Duchess Augusta’s tea room above, was slightly different, however.

Hans Peter pointed out the slight variation in pattern, where the spot design is replaced by a cross.  This marks the place where Augusta died.

We continued on the next floor, through the library with a secret passage behind the bookshelves.

Here, I lingered a little, to speak to one of the museum stewards about the jewellery in the case.  An exquisite set of mourning jewellery, I asked about the material from which it was made.  I couldn’t imagine it to be made of jet, so fine was it carved.  Quite so, it was actually all made from iron – and incredibly beautiful.  We remarked how contemporary the design appears too, and agreed, we’d both wear any piece of it today!  Sadly the lighting made photographs difficult, so I only managed this single braclet – the earrings, brooches and necklaces were remarkable.

Whilst I’d been lingering and chatting, the group had moved on into the richly decorated Throne Room.  High above our heads were panels depicting the major towns of Mecklenburg-Schwerin and of course, Schwerin itself was right there, centre stage right above the throne.

Here was the finest floor of all, needless to say.

Leaving the throne room, we found ourselves in the midst of the ancestors.  Here were huge portraits of former Dukes, including Albrecht,

Oho, we were told to take note of the size of his feet for the richer the man, the bigger his feet!

We were also advised to take note of the pair of clippers dangling from his belt, used, we were told, to snip of the ears of anyone who might get in his way.  Eeeeeuuwww.

What do you think of his knees, anyway?

On that note, we were more or less done with the castle.  Hans Peter took us out through the room with pictures of the family homes here and there.  In 1918, when the family were ousted from the castle after WW1, they’d had to make do with the rather less grand property they owned in Ludwigslust.  As was noted, it was hardly slumming it…

And that was more or less it for the castle.  We retraced our steps over the bridge and back to the edge of town where we had been dropped off earlier this morning.

We wandered past the fine state properties: the museum and the theatre and then past the government offices into the square.

We had a short time to explore Schwerin independently, then, so headed across the square to the cathedral.

We had just long enough to take a look inside.

A little musical concert was about to begin and a couple of recorder players were getting themselves tuned and ready, so we quietly walked around the outer perimeter of the lofty nave, heading first for the area behind the altar, beneath some fine stained glass windows.

Here, in a rather shabby area of the church, were two grand memorials.

They were commemorating the lives of two Grand Dukes of Mecklenburg-Schwerin: two of the people who had inhabited the castle we’d just viewed, in fact.

Though the actual tombs were grand, in a solid, Germanic style, the area itself was a little careworn.  No flowers, no polish or candles, just a few broken stones and a rather watermarked floor.  I felt a little sad about that.

A little further along was another tomb, I presume for another member of the family.

And more: I felt that surely the people who had built Schwerin deserved rather better.

Taking note of a couple of war memorials as we went, we made our way back to the huge doorway where we’d come in.

The recorder players were about to start their concert and we had to keep an eye on the time.

Nevertheless, we couldn’t pass a Niederegger Marzipan shop without popping in to make a small purchase, could we?

A short walk back through the small alley and we were back where we’d started.

The castle was well worth a visit and we’ll remember our morning in Schwerin fondly.

It was just about lunchtime too – maybe time for a little something?

Our kind of day

Filled with interesting things, people and places from beginning to end.  (Oh, and there might have been a bit of food and drink in there too)

It began pretty early.  We’d set the alarm for six, because we had an early start for our trip to Schwerin today.  I poked my nose out of the verandah to see the sun rising above an undoubtedly German landscape.  Welcome to Warnemünde!  We had just arrived.

We began with breakfast in our favourite spot.  A bit breezy out there at this early hour but we enjoyed the fresh air as always.

A bit like Richard Scarry’s Busy World, we watched as trains went to and fro, the ferries crossed the harbour and the traffic on the large dual carriageway sped past.  Come on, we’re ready to get going!

Hello Germany!

Our day began with an hour’s ride in a westerly direction, past the former Eastern bloc apartment buildings, now smartened up but still looking pretty bleak and forbidding in places.

But soon we were out into the Mecklenburg-Vorpommern countryside, some of the richest arable land in the country.

Arriving in Schwerin, we immediately understood what our guide had been telling us, that this was a city of lakes and fine buildings. 

We were about to get a feel for the place from the largest of the lakes; the second largest lake in Germany, in fact.

As soon as we were out of the small harbour, we got the picture!

Now Schwerin is the capital of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern and as such, has all the parliamentary offices and departments here around the lake.  This former stable complex was now a large part of that.

As we sailed further out into the lake, we could see what we had really come to see: the Castle.

But it was a lovely morning and we enjoyed an half hour cruise on the water, eyeing up some of those lakeside properties and wondering which one would suit us best.

One of these two, do you think?  Might do nicely…

Of course, really there was only one lakeside property worthy of our consideration, though half of it was taken up by the Mecklenburg-Vorpommern government.  It being rather picturesque and the home state of Angela Merkel as well, it frequently finds itself hosting visiting dignitaries too.

In the morning sunshine, it was looking pretty lovely, in spite of the crane and restoration works.  We looked forward to seeing inside.

Having disembarked for the second time this morning, we made our way to the entrance.  Not this one though, which leads to the government offices – we were shown to the other side, to the historic part of the castle at the rear.  But which is the tradesman’s entrance?

Walking around the pathway gave us a good opportunity to get a closer look, though, especially at these gables which had provoked our curiosity when we saw them from the boat.

Each one was slightly different, being made up of individual motifs and figures.  I had no idea about any of it, but just admired the interest and personal touches to the design.

We were pleased to have enough time to take a quick look around the gardens.

The Orangery and the sunken Parterre were beautiful and would have been a great place to sit with a coffee and a pastry…

With a wonderful view of the lake, we could have sat and gazed at the landscape for a while.

But it was time to move on, time was pressing and we were going to take a look inside as well.  So, having taken a quick snap from the terrace, off we went.

The front/back entrance to the castle is undergoing restoration and, it appears, this is taking quite some time.  Still, they are doing their best to minimise the effect on the appearance of the place.

Stepping inside, my first instinct was to look up at the beautifully painted ceiling vaults.  Somehow, it was exactly as I’d expected – brown and white, simple but decorative.  Rather lovely, in fact.

Hans Peter, our guide said that our visit began with some training, to climb the stairs.  Thankfully, the stairs were rather well designed for ease of climbing, being shallow and wide.  I’ll share what we found at the top of them in my next post!