Car Rental Lithuanian Style Ch 3/pg 5
Oh now we are oh too full, but in a very promising mood about what this country holds for us. While waiting for my mother to come down and join me for breakfast, I went ahead and made arrangements for her to have a massage. I thought she’d enjoy that after her long flight. So she heads off for her massage and I head outside for a walk to get my preview of the county.
Early morning rush hour, people hustle along the streets. The location of the hotel is on a river or perhaps a canal, I can’t quite be certain which. The city feels vibrant and alive with activity. I know this is a port city but I can’t see any signs of a harbor even as I try to follow the river. And the weather is lovely. The site is in an area of north of the city center. My mother remembers a less built up area years ago. After about an hour walk I head back to the hotel.
Oh did she ever love her massage! This is a first ever massage ever for her. She got beat up real good by a genuine Russian trained masseur so by her standards that means it was excellent. It has to hurt to do you good. She’s already talking with excitement about another appointment when we return.
Now we meet with our rental car agent who is meeting us at the hotel. Algeridas, first name basis, is prompt and even speaks English! This is a real surprise to me. There hasn’t been that much time for the country to get English in the school since the border opened. In the past everyone had to learn Russian possibly English sometime later in their schooling. This young entrepreneur is 20-ish and already fluent in English. I found his agency on the internet and the prices were so much better than those of the American companies. So what if I’m driving a used Opal instead of a new Volkswagen. Anyway, I find it better not being too conspicuous as a foreigner. Forget that Mercedes!
Most Important Meal Ch 3/pg 4
Before we go to sleep we lay awake for a short time talking about our impressions so far. Mom realizes that this is not is the Lithuania she feared she would find. So far so good, and we are still in awe of the lovely Air Lithuania flight especially after the atrocious meal on Northwestern. Really seem food driven.
Morning comes! Breakfast! We are famished! Dressed and down to the main restaurant we go. There we find the large dining room set up for a buffet and full of – eh gads – Germans! It is a whole big tour group of them, so big it might be two groups actually. Okay, we’re now Americans for all practical purposes. Just like any large assembly of people, we want to stay clear of them. For that matter all groups exaggerate the worst qualities of any nationality when they congregate in large numbers. It seems so very odd being here in Lithuania and hearing all this German spoken. Somehow a bit out-of-place. I am in a non-German country and only hear German spoken.
We’re hungry so go check over the buffet before getting in line. What a lovely assortment. Hope we’re not drooling in anticipation. We’re just as happy as can be, especially if this is a sign of how things will be here. You may travel for the sights, but the food can make or break the trip. We just never really developed American taste buds. Unlike my travels through America, I have never lacked for good food in Europe. Wait, there was that one trip to Czechoslovakia – made the mistake of eating a sausage from an outdoor vendor. It was truly inedible; one chew brought to mind visions of Upton Sinclair’s infamous book about the meat packing industry. I spit out the awful gristle and threw the rest in the garbage bin. But that was just shortly after the fall. Western style competition had yet to take hold.
Hotel Lithuania Ch 3/pg 3
Check in is efficient and English is spoken! I find out where I can exchange money since I couldn’t do it before the trip. The currency, Litas, is not available outside the country. Just not a whole lot of demand for this money on the world currency markets let alone at my local bank. The rate is also fixed by the government making it not desirable for trade on exchange markets.
The lobby looks familiar just like so many other big hotels. Off to one side is a restaurant, a gift shop nearby and of course a postcard rack. I head over to take a quick assessment of significant sights in town. Looks like any middle European city, the usual old buildings and an occasional monument on the marketplace. Everything seems modern, clean, and nice. We realize how very tired we are, exhausted and ready for bed.
The porter takes us to our room, how nice, all of us with the two suitcases pressed into the tiny elevator. I read the signs for massage and sauna and advertisement pictures of lovely people enjoying a big classy restaurant. This is a really big hotel, but we are here for one night only. We’ll have another chance to explore before leaving the country when we stay here again in order to catch a very early morning flight home.
Our room is tiny! Décor is a sort of Scandinavian style. Let’s call it northern European modern. There is room for the two beds and a chair, us and that really big suitcase. It’s not as bad as the hotel I once stayed in London; there I nearly couldn’t move both me and my suitcase into the room at the same time. We do have a private bath which is always a nice perk. The hotel has obviously been remodeled not too long ago, but as long as Mom and I coordinate our movements, and don’t change course abruptly, we’re fine in the tight space. No need to unpack much as we won’t be here long.
Hitching a Ride Ch 3/pg 2
Our airplane crew assembles themselves on the sidewalk. A van pulls up and they get in. I ask if we can join them for the ride to Memel. During the ride we talk with our stewardess from the airplane who speaks some English. She wants to work on her English and I have a lot of questions. Outside is it really dark so I can’t see any of the countryside as we depart from the airport. I don’t see any hotels. This is so disorienting to arrive in the dark – but it heightens my anticipation for the next day. I peer out of the windows trying to catch some glimpse, a clue, wanting to get a sense of place. In the glow of the street lamps I at least can see store fronts, houses, shrubbery. Looks rather normal.
Our van pulls up in front of a store and some of the crew go in. Maybe they need to buy food before they go home after days of being gone. It is amazing that something is open at this hour. Even in Germany grocery stores don’t stay open this late. I peer out the van’s side window straining to look in the store; are the shelves full of merchandise, what kind of store is this? I need to get a feel for this country where I’ll be spending the next week to verify if this trip was a good decision or will it be a disaster.
My sense is that the people in the van, crew and driver, know each other well. There is camaraderie among them. I sense this even without speaking their language. There are so few flights at the airport, and even fewer out of the country. This is likely a routine this very crew has repeated many times.
Absolutely no traffic is on the road. It is a weeknight, but still seems awfully quiet. This is a two-lane road, no big highway to speed us through the countryside. Dark but not desolate by any means.
Crew members get dropped off along the way and then we arrive at the Hotel Klaipeda in downtown Memel (Klaipeda). It’s a big modern structure, at least 15 stories. Must have been the hotel of choice for the party faithful back in good old days.
Darkness in Palanga Ch 3/pg 1
We arrive in Palanga, Lithuania in the pitch dark of night. It is after ten pm. The plane is very small so there aren’t many passengers to handle. We still have to wait around in the very small terminal for officials. Finally here they come: customs, passport control and various uniformed personnel who just stand around. Did they have to wake them up, were they sleeping maybe? Or is this just a bureaucratic show of authority, you know, “let them wait”. I last experienced this attitude in the Bahamas upon landing at an airport on a remote out island. Thought it was just a Caribbean thing. Then there is the U.S. The officials all stand behind their official podiums, awaiting your arrival, ready to scrutinize you’re papers. Others intently stare at the crowd from the sidelines, scanning faces for guilty looks.
We could scarcely have surprised these Lithuanians officials with our plane – nothing is going on and planes don’t arrive without notice, so why aren’t they ready for us? The terminal is dark. Perhaps the lights don’t work. There are only a very few signs posted around the large hall. No bright commercial advertising typical of other airports. No travel posters, no resort or hotel ads.
Passport and customs procedures alone tell me that the days of Communist ways of doing things are long gone. It is all pretty easy to get done. Nothing spoken, no questions. Nobody slowly checking your identification details waiting for you to break a sweat, repeatedly glancing from your photo to your face, like in the good ole days when you endured examination in no man’s land. All while the German Sheppard’s patrolled. Now we just have to figure out how to get out of the airport and make the journey to our hotel in Memel city (Klaipeda). I forgot to plan for this little detail.
