I probably should have guessed that I was in the wrong part of the world, weather-wise, when we spotted this felted-shoe vending machine in the airport...
I suppose I would be remiss not to mention here that Riga contains one of Europe's highest concentrations of Art Nouveau buildings (almost 30% of the buildings in the Centrs district!), so prepare yourselves. There may be a little of that coming up. At some point.*
But first, a little history on Riga. First settled in the 2nd century, it became an important stop along a Viking trade route in the 5th, and the people were forcibly converted to Christianity by conquering German knights in the 12th century, during the Crusades (!). Despite the locals' restive nature under their German occupiers, Riga eventually prospered greatly as a member of the Hanseatic League; and after the Swedish War (1621-26), the city--quite a prize--was ceded to Sweden, but retained a good deal of autonomy. Less than 100 years later, Peter the Great besieged and captured the city, and Riga remained (again, a very prosperous) part of Russia until the end of WWI, in 1918, when Latvia finally became, for the first time ever, an independent and democratic nation. That ended, of course, during WWII, when Russia once again annexed the country, moved in large numbers of Russian immigrants, and began a systematic oppression of Latvians, mainly by way of deporting locals to Russia under the guise of being Nazi collaborators and/or having anti-Soviet sympathies (but also via those time-honored traditions of torture and execution). After 50 years of suppression of local culture, language, and (obviously) any sort of dissent, Latvia finally regained its independence in 1991. All of this explains why there is such a heavy Germanic presence in the language (I was surprised by how many words were very familiar); why Russian is almost as commonly spoken there as Latvian; and why their independence is so valued. (It's so new! And so very, very hard-won!)
But I digress a bit (history! always important!)...now back to our visit. Since we arrived in Riga that first night just in time for dinner, we headed for one of my better recent finds: Folkklubs ALA Pagrabs (roughly, "folk club cellar"). We walked down this loooong staircase to find a massive series of vaulted rooms, nooks, tables, and bar tops underground, and lo and behold, there was live music. This adorable little band called ImantaDimanta was playing this really fun mix of blugrass/country covers and Latvian folk music, and they were fantastic. Our waiter was really friendly and loved that Mike was enthused about the local beer, and the food was simple and traditional, but quite good. We started with the "beer snack plate," with some chunks of thick-cut bacon, fried garlic rye bread (GAHHHHHHH, SO GOOD!!), carrots, cucumbers, pickles, and pickled mushrooms; and then Mike had meatballs in a tomato onions sauce with sauerkraut, and I couldn't resist this weird combination of a fried chicken cutlet with cheese, pickles, mushrooms, and mashed potatoes, in a caramelized onion sauce. (I halfway thought they'd put it on the menu just to see what they could get tourists to eat, but regardless of whether that's the actual case, it was good.) We tried out the "bread soup" for dessert, which consists of dark rye bread cooked with water, dried fruits, and cranberries, and topped with whipped cream. It's sour and dense and a little strange, but also weirdly compelling, and we ate way more of it than we should have after a meal like that. All in all a genuinely wonderful evening.
The next day, on our first full day in Riga, I'd booked us a market-and-food tour. Our guide was a super nice guy named Marcus who was from Australia and had married a Riga local. His Latvian was impressive.
First (and main) stop, Riga's massive central market, which was built in the 1920s.
No, srsly, this place is huge. Not all of the halls are this big, but this is one of five. (Here, the fruit-n-veg market. There was also one for meats, one for breads/cheeses, one for fish, and I don't even know what else. Also an outdoor flower section and more veggies from smaller producers.)
Super interesting fact: the framework for the roof in each hall is made from German WWI zeppelin hangars (...which constitute 5 of the 9 remaining zeppelin hangars in the world, how amazing is that?).
Smoking meats and fish is very common in Latvia; here, a ginormous case full of gorgeous smoked meats. (And also, all of the prices are so insanely low, compared to Switzerland. Mike was tempted to buy another suitcase and stock it with meat to bring back.)
And one entirely full of smoked fish. (I don't know why, but I find the golden sheen of everything in this case very appetizing.)
A pickle booth featuring pickled garlic, stuffed tomatoes, mushrooms, peppers, beets, and at least 7 different varieties of cucumber; "Korean" (spicy) pickled, shredded carrots; cabbages pickled in beet juice (the bright pink) and in other things I've forgotten (the bright yellow and red); and cabbage for sauerkraut. Plus some wild garlic--still in season in May, this far north--and (not pictured) grape leaves for stuffing, dolma-style. Mmmmmmmmm, pickley things...
Oooooooh, fresh cheeses laced with dill, caraway seeds, and other tasty things.
Mike's favorite part: very dark rye bread, everywhere.
At the end of our market meanderings came the tasting, and oh, what a tasting it was: that's a board of deer, pig, and European bison salami; cream-puff-style pastries filled with lightly-sweetened fresh cheese; sliced cheese with sweet clover seeds (my first favorite thing on this table); bacon pastries; cheese with caraway seeds...
...rye bread with carrots; hemp butter; salty garlicky pickles; and spicy pickled white cabbage turned pink with beet juice (the cabbage was my second favorite thing on this table--so sweet sour, spicy, and shockingly good!!). And to drink, kvass, which is made by fermenting rye bread with sugar and yeast. It's a little fizzy and quite sweet, but this particular one was really tasty. (Others I had on the trip, not so much--way too sweet.)
Next to the market is this complex of old factory buildings, which remind me very much of our own apartment building, just with far more variety in the brickwork. They are lovely and full of potential, but are mostly empty, since they're just outside the center and the large interior spaces make them hard to reuse.
So pretty, though, and so much potential.
Riga is also known for having a good number of 19th-century wooden buildings, the oldest of which dates back to the late 17th century (!).
Insanely enough, these were built in the suburbs as a defense mechanism: when the city was attacked, the defenders could burn the suburbs to keep the invaders at bay. For something essentially considered disposable, though, these buildings have some gorgeous details.
Those particular wooden buildings are right next to this--a smaller version of the Stalin skyscrapers in Moscow! Originally meant to serve as a dormitory and educational space for collective-farm workers, this thing was purportedly built as a birthday gift to Stalin (hence its nickname, "Stalin's birthday cake"), but he died before its completion. This building now holds the Latvian Academy of Sciences.
Finished in the late 1950s/early 1960s, it's very obviously a Soviet edifice, especially when you consider the fact that it still displays some of the last remaining hammers-and-sickles in the city.
Next, we tromped past the Freedom Monument, built in 1935 and dedicated to the Latvians who died during the Latvian War of Independence (1918-1920). It is not small, and is an powerful symbol of how much the Latvians (well, really, all the Baltic states) value their independence.
Ducked into the Nativity of Christ Cathedral, which is very beautiful (and, unsurprisingly, very Orthodox) inside. (No photos allowed, of course.)
Stumbled across the unfortunately-named "Cat House"...
...so-called because of the two metal cats perched atop its towers. Supposedly, they were placed there with their tails pointed either at the Great Guild Hall or the Town Hall, with one (...or both?) of whom the building's owner had had some sort of spat. Either way, I don't really care, because kittehs.
And also, AMAZING Art Nouveau door!
Speaking of Art Nouveau... (In other news, is that King Louie up there? Do you think he reached the top and had to stop...?)
More pretties.
Oh man, was this building incredible. There are so many creatures and faces and masks and flowers and leaves and swirly patterns...! (Yes, there is a Masonic symbol in the tree, and I have no idea why, but those things were all over the Art Nouveau buildings in Riga. Weird.)
Unreal details. Just amazing.
No idea why, but I took about a jillion photos of this corner. Maybe it's 'cause it's adorable.
Not going to kid you, we were a bit disappointed by dinners on days 2 and 3, so I'll just say that the highlight of both was the fried garlic rye bread (which came, this time, with cheese sauce) on day 3. But at least it was next door to this rather excellent vista:
That's the spire of St. Peter's church on the left, and the House of the Blackheads (another unfortunate name, yikes) on the right. The Blackheads were a merchant guild of unmarried men, both foreign and local, whose chapters extended through modern-day Latvia and Estonia (and a few spots in Germany), and whose primary purpose was to assist in the defense of the city. Their guild houses and artifacts are all over this city (and Tallinn).
Day 3 in Riga was Mike's big day: we were shuttled to the tiny, brand-newly-renovated (but in a very retro-futuristic, fluorescent-pexiglas kind of way) private airfield in Jurmala, about an hour outside of Riga, where we met up with not just one, but several pilots from the Baltic Bees Jet Team. Because their performance season was about to start, it was a practice day for them, so Mike got to ride with them in formation. And I got to wander around, basically wherever I wanted, to photograph the whole thing.
The Baltic Bees fly L-39C Albatros jets, which have been used in combat, but are mostly used as trainers for new pilots. (I know it's probably not what team full of manly ex-Soviet pilots would probably want to hear, but these jets were so adorable, with their little stripes and bee logos!)
Mike getting strapped in. I'll confess that I was a little worried that he wouldn't fit (ok, quite worried), but they somehow got him safely belted in there.
At Jurmala, because there are so many birds, they have to practice at unusually high altitudes, so I couldn't get that many really good photos.
That's definitely a vertical dive, though, I can tell you that much. (This flight would not have been for me.)
A low pass so that I could get a good shot. Too bad there's that stupid giant dot on my lens... (Which I could never figure out! You couldn't SEE it on the lens or on my protective filter, both of which I clean often, and it wasn't always there, but it'd always come back. So frustrating.)
Mike and his pilot, Anatolij, whom they call "The Maestro" because he sings classical music during the whole flight. Hee.
After the flight, it seemed like everyone sorta had forgotten that we'd need a ride back into town (they all had to stay at the airfield to practice), so we sat around for a while in this airport in which our little group were the only people, chewing the fat with some ex-Soviet pilots and one Italian pilot (a rookie to the team, and with whom they all speak English, but want him to learn Russian, of course!), all of whom were eating panettone and drinking espresso while listening to the Pet Shop Boys.** It was positively surreal, and an experience that I'm sure would be impossible to duplicate. (If you want to know more about the flight, you'll have to ask Mike; he knows the names of all the maneuvers they did, and I couldn't see so much from where I was freezing my tail off on the ground, trying to get a few photos.)
After we managed to get back into the city, we grabbed some lunch at the lovely Blue Cow restaurant...
...where we tried out one of the most local of local foods, gray peas. Which sounds entirely unappetizing, but really, it's a tasty bowl of chickpea-like peas with bacon and onions. (It's excellent.)
Next, we decided to head to the Latvian War Museum, which occupies a ginormous 14th-century powder tower. The bulk of the collection focuses on WWI and the War of Independence, with slightly smaller collections for WWII and the Latvian military in the 21st century. We found that all of the exhibits were rather powerful, and served as yet another reminder of how much Eastern Europe has suffered.
The powder tower.
Sixteenth-century Latvian weaponry.
There were some very personal items, like these Latvian officers' personalized cigarette cases...
...and this gorgeous Art Nouveau sewing machine caught my attention.
There was also some very creative wartime repurposing, such as this lamp made from a mortar shell...
...and these cups made by German soldiers from shell casings.
After exploring everything there was to see in the war museum, we headed back towards the hotel to get cleaned up for dinner.
...and passed this thing on the way.
Those flowers...those details...so amazing.
The next morning, we decided it was high time to visit the cathedral, which was basically on the doorstep of our hotel. Entirely unintentionally, we arrived just in time for the mid-day organ concert. While organ music isn't generally my thing, this lady was impressive, and we quite enjoyed her concert before poking around the cathedral and its cloisters a bit.
A few bits of this thing remain from its original 13th-century construction, but the rest of it has been enlarged and altered over time.
The most recent bit being the Art Nouveau vestibule, which is rather incongruous, but striking nonetheless.
From what I can figure, however, the vaulted gallery in the cloisters dates to the 13th century.
All the way around the gallery are heaps and heaps of miscellaneous city artifacts; for example, this carved stone which used to hang outside the House of the Blackheads. (From 1522.)
There were so many cannons and mortars in this place, I can't even tell you. (I think these things are beautiful, actually, and I have way too many photos of random cannons we've seen on our journeys.)
Then, it was off to St. Peter's church, with its impressively tall spire and interesting little baroque entrance.
For reals, this thing is tall.
A slightly better angle, taken on our first night in the city.
Inside, still more interesting city artifacts. Here, a weathervane rooster from 1690. (These things had to have been quite common; it seems like every church and museum had at least one on display.)
View from the spire, with market halls and Academy of Sciences building.
The other direction, looking over the old city. From this vantage point (but not in this photo, sadly), you can see the belt of green that delineates the old city from the new by way of...
...this canal. Which is actually what's left of a moat that was dug around the entire city center during the Middle Ages. Now it also contains this gorgeous park for a good way along the canal. I'm a big fan.
Between old town and new, along Terbatas Iela, is an entire block of flower kiosks.
Lovely old wooden building in the Centrs district, which more-or-less forms a ring around the old town.
There are many hundreds of Art Nouveau buildings in Riga, most not so flamboyant...
...some not as well restored...
...but some absolutely eye-popping. Especially those along Alberta Iela, a short little street that leads to the Art Nouveau Museum. And now, a collection just from that street. (Don't kid yourself: oh, it looks all sunny and blue, but it was about 42 degrees out there and breezy. I just about froze my be-mittened hands off for these photos, and my dear husband was exceedingly patient while I stood out there taking about a thousand pictures of these things.)
I had to take a few moments with this building.
There's just so much going on here, and that blue is just so spectacular.
I've never seen anything like this one, at all.
I mean...
The exterior of museum itself is nowhere near as over-the-top, but the plaster work around those balconies is stunning.
Magnificent entrance staircase!
Details inside the museum, which was actually the apartment of Konstantins Peksens, a prominent local Art Nouveau architect, who designed and constructed this building for himself in the early 20th century.
Mike and I agreed that we need this little garden-sunroom in our apartment, ASAP.
Besides the architecture itself, there were all manner of wondrous things in there, including this Art Nouveau Victrola.
Pretty sure I need this entire table setting, as well.
Post-museum, it was time to tromp back to our hotel and get ready for dinner, and along the way we passed this rather humble and unassuming monument. This is a memorial to those who died during The Barricades, a series of clashes between Riga's citizens and Soviet forces during January of 1991. Latvia had declared its independence in 1990 (not recognized by the USSR, of course), but after the Soviet army stormed the TV tower in Vilnius, Lithuania, and 14 people died (over 100 more were injured), the something like 15,000 citizens of Riga began to erect and to man barricades in various locations around the city in an effort to prevent bloodshed similar to that in Vilnius. When the clashes finally came, 8 Latvian citizens died, but Soviet anti-independence momentum was broken, and Latvia became a free sovereign nation in September 1991. (Another reminder of how new and precious Baltic independence really is.)
Dinner on this particular evening was at the cozy and welcoming Uzbekistana, an (obviously) Uzbekistani restaurant in Centrs. As starters, we shared eggplant marinated in garlic oil and stuffed with fresh cheese, dill, and pomegranate; a huge half-moon-shaped fried pastry filled with spiced lamb; and a lamb samsa (another word that seems to cross food cultures more-or-less intact--it is what you think). For my main, I went with a super-traditional lamb pilaf with garlic and carrots, and Mike went for a chicken-and-veg dish, and for desserts, he chose chak chak (extruded little unsweetened, crunchy pastry bits topped with honey and raisins), and I went for honey cake (because one we had in Moscow in 2008 haunts my dreams). Simple, homey, and really good food, and fun to try a cuisine we hadn't before.
And with that, we were off the next day to Tallinn for the second leg of Mike's birthday trip!
*Look. I make this whole "surprise birthday" thing quite easy: I have an actual list, shared with my husband, entitled "LET'S GO HERE!", that contains almost every destination in the world to which I'd like to travel. My dear husband, on the other hand, maintains no such list, insisting to me that "Everywhere you want to go is probably a place I want to go, too," and THAT'S how one ends up spending one's surprise birthday in a city known for its myriad Art Nouveau gems. The fact that Mike's flight just happened to be in that city was sort-of a bonus.
**Not to be disrespectful, but if these guys' (rather low-stress) training days involve flying, eating cake, drinking coffee, chatting, and repeat, it's probably not the worst life choice there is. (Maybe I should have been a jet pilot...)
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