03 Nov 06
I had no clear idea before I arrived in Lithuania what this part of the world looked like. Vilnius is a small but relatively cosmopolitan city. But heading out of town on day five, the drive from Vilnius to Riga in Latvia is simply breathtaking, helped by the shadows cast by the low northern sun. Yellows battle against burnt oranges and browns, cut sharply by the deep green of the pine trees. The clouds form angry contours, the sun creating a spooky feel when it pokes through. Faint rainbows appear now and again on the horizon. We drive in silence along the empty A2. Adding to the oddness, the farmers who work this vast and beautiful land all live in identical Soviet-era high-rise concrete buildings.
After all that natural beauty, the Latvian capital Riga is a disappointment, looking large and industrial. Or perhaps it's just that I'm shattered after an intense five days. Tomorrow we keep going north, to Tallinn, founded in the 13th century by the Danes.
It turns out to be an interesting blend of medieval architecture, Soviet buildings and ultra modern glass structures. There's no ignoring the city's troubled past, as most official buildings fly the national flag, on which the black represents the one-fifth of the population who were killed at the hands of the Soviet occupiers.
Everything is black when we set off early the next morning for our final drive, from Tallinn to St Petersburg. It's also raining and windy, making for a pretty nasty journey. It takes us three hours to get through the border crossing at Narva, where the Russian guards dressed in Soviet-style uniforms stand erect with stone cold expressions. The female guards wear short skirts that reveal the stocky legs essential for survival here; it's only October, and it's minus 2deg C at noon.
