Monday
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!! It’s Catherine’s birthday!!
Feeling the need for a birthday breakfast, we ambled along in characteristic style through the streets of Old Riga and found nothing. Wanting a light bite, we settled on the ubiquitous Double Coffee, which can be found on every corner of the city. Think Starbucks but with garlic. Because yes, our little bulbous friend was to reappear, smeared all over our scrambled eggs. Foiled by the lack of bacon, we had been forced to order eggs with ‘weiners’, which came with lashings of creamy garlic sauce cascading over a mountainous cone of scrambled egg. Curious.
The bustling normality of Double Coffee with its normal Latvian folk contrasted starkly with what we were presented with upon exiting. A barren, glistening expanse of ice seemed to lure us (yet none of the regulars) to its side. Seizing on this unique opportunity to skate around one of Riga’s cathedral squares, we ran to the booth to prime ourselves for the hour of our lives. For one mere Lat we had an hour of unbridled joy (boot hire included), and only had to share the enormous ice rink with one solitary skater. Allow us to dwell on this figure for a moment. With an entirely vacant rink to amuse himself in, this little madam decided to impress us by skating backwards at speed carving up as close to us as possible. It was like watching a Duracell powered dove, on ice, on rewind.* As he dazzled us with his technique he also took important calls on his mobile phone while his caramel-coloured combover flopped about in the wind. Our skills alas were not as stupendous. Paddy was a… cautious skater, if you will, who chose to spend his hour of heaven clinging to the sides. His forays into the middle of the ice were brief, fraught with anxiety on behalf of those who watched him, but memorable. Martina, Catherine and Sarah were slightly more able, all with an individual style of their own. Martina – proficient and purposeful. Catherine – predictably at ease with the ice. Sarah – Graceful and in her element.
Taking a few liberties with our ‘hour’ on the ice, we then paused to have a little chat with some (literally) wooden actors. Three chisled chaps were seated at a wooden table, seemingly sat at this wooden table for years, with three invitingly empty seats at their tiny table. We paused for some photos then moved off on our merry way.
We carried on our sightseeing walk of Riga, straying into one of Riga’s central parks, Bastejkalns, where we admired the frozen river and small sculptures dotted around the park. One endearing curiosity was that one of the bridges across the river was covered in hundreds of padlocks of all shapes and sizes. Each padlock was engraved with the names of couples – little lockets of love forever shackled to the park. We then passed the Freedom Monument, a tall column with Mother Latvia atop, which symbolises the country’s struggle for nationhood. Although the guidebook suggested closer inspection, we were less keen as the monument was guarded by several burly, machine-gun wielding policemen. Sarah’s guidebook had suggested a venture into the Art Nouveau district – one of Riga’s little gems. However, as we had spent almost three glorious days in Old Riga, the trip to the new bit of town was perhaps underwhelming. It was now lightly snowing and Martina was chilly and anxious to get a warm drink somewhere. To our aid came the most amazing cake shop EVER. Four scrummy cakes and four drinks came to under 3.50 Lats, which felt ridiculous. The shop had a lovely local feel, with authentic types just an afternoon tea and cake. It was so good Catherine and Martina had seconds.
Next, we took our beloved Matt’s advice and headed to the Skyline Bar. Located on the 26th floor of the Reval Hotel Latvia, this bar gives astounding views over the whole city. The bar was accessed by a glass lift on the side of the building. Martina (who had only conquered a disabling fear of lifts only the year before) was alarmed by being able to see the lift’s inner workings and cables and thus for the journey up to the 26th floor, affected a quasi-foetal position, whilst suppressing a squeal for the duration of the ascent. On the 26th floor confronted with a rather plush open plan bar, Catherine decided her companions were not up to scratch, not matching the dress code of the other drinkers. After reprimanding Sarah and commanding that she distance herself of the cagoule and pink flowery wellies, Catherine turned on her heel and marched solo into the bar. Sartorial comments aside, the bar was very impressive. Paddy and Sarah tried some of the local speciality – Riga Balsams – in a variety of cocktails. Balsams is a thick, brown liqueur, 45% proof made of 25 herbs, flowers, other secret ingredients and wormwood – the ingredient that gives absinthe its kick. On its own, it is a potent beverage however when mixed, is actually drinkable.
We stayed a little bit longer than we intended to (about five hours), and by the time we left at 10pm, we had our sights set on food. Piggy-backing back to an attractive looking beer cellar we’d seen the previous day, we became increasingly excited about a meal in an ambient, lively watering hole. Alas, it seemed we were the only people in the entire city who thought this might be an ambient spot as it was just us that chose to dine there. After a grumpy greeting from the burly waiter, we ordered beer and some grub. Paddy and Martina had meat pie, Catherine had ‘three types of meat’ and Sarah had some other type of meaty goodness. Although the food hit the spot, the cursory and sullen service did not, so we left an abysmal tip and absconded. Alas our escape was foiled when we became trapped in the restaurant, unable to open the door to exit. Embarrassingly, the staff then came up (after shutting down the restaurant) and opened the door for us.
We trekked back to the hostel, realising that Monday also looked like a quiet night, with most bars shut up for the night. Catherine also realised she’d left her hat behind in the restaurant. This hat was one of a twin set of hats sported by Catherine and Martina and was on its inaugural outing on Catherine’s head. It now lay dormant on the floor of the restaurant. Suppose it acted as some form of tip. We took the hostel’s advice and joined the Fun Franks Crew at Pulkvedis (nb reader – you may remember this is the club we visited on our first night in Riga). Monday was apparently reggae night and massive fans of the genre as we are, we were so overwhelmed with glee we sat down at a big dark table. We then spent the rest of the evening drinking and playing with some flyers we found, sticking faces of Latvian models onto our foreheads. Casper the pirate also took the opportunity to rekindle his romancing of Martina, to no more luck. If reggae wasn’t enough, they were also playing the Val Kilmer film ‘Top Secret’ on the TVs with English subtitles. For those unfamiliar with the film, it is from the makers of Airplane! but looks like soft porn, without the sex. It’s a low budget, low laughs classic. Highly recommended.
*This in fact was indicative of other aspects of Latvian life where we often pondered on whether we’d taken a stumble into a whole new dimension. A parallel land where everything was on rewinds. Particularly cars that had a penchant for deftly driving backwards at speed.
