Druskininkai, Lietuva

The bus was headed for Druskininkai, Lithuania -- near the southern border with Belarus, but we got off here, at the town of Grutas, and walked the few kilometers to Gruta Parkas, also referred to as "Stalinworld." It's a Soviet sculpture and theme park, built on a private estate (the owner of the museum used to be the manager of a kolkhoz, then made his fortune in the mushroom business). The park obtained a bunch of the statues (Stalin, Lenin, Lithuanian party leaders and heroes, etc.) and monuments taken down at the end of the Soviet regime. Though the park in no way intends to diminish the worst of Soviet history -- in fact, serves as an important reminder -- it takes a lighthearted approach to remembrance and a critical one to nostalgia by recreating an atmosphere that celebrates all-things-Soviet in the extreme. The staff wear red scarves as did the Young Pioneers, crackling speakers attached to rickety guard towers provide an ever-present soundtrack, playing old-time marches and rollicking Soviet ditties. They've even duplicated the old Soviet pricing regime, right down to charging an extra 5 Litas for photographing privileges (at the ticket booth, J was sternly instructed to pin his permission slip to his coat (pin provided)).














The sculptures are installed along a walking path that winds its way through a crisp pine forest, the route interrupted every so often by cabins housing Soviet-style installations (a library, party meeting room, "voting" station) with commentary and displaying socialist realist art and other period knick-knacks.

The exhibition route leads you unswervingly to the park cafe and souvenir shop. We skipped the "Nostalgia Menu" (which offers things like the "Farewell, My Youth" meat-cutlet plate and other classics), opting instead for contemporary Lithuanian fare. I'd been noticing the word "boletus" a lot since having arrived in Lithuania, and wondered whether it was a bad translation of something otherwise familiar. Surprise, it's a type of mushroom! Though considering Grutas Park's owner's prior business expertise, it was no surprise that the mushroom soup at Gruto Parkas was top-notch. Unfortunately, we had to bolt our boletus, since buses from Grutas to Druskininkai were few and we didn't want to miss the 4:22. We headed back to the stop with time to spare, and waited.

And waited some more.

There would be no 4:22. We changed strategies and sidled up alongside a couple of women who appeared from somewhere in the tiny Grutas settlement to stand firmly on a square of unmarked pavement. A minibus passed by a short while later, but it was already full to its minibussi brim and by now our regiment had grown to at least 5 people. We awkwardly squeezed into the aisle and hoped we were actually heading the 7 kms to town (though we started out in another direction). I tried to glean from some of the other passengers just where we should disembark, but the Russian-speaking ones turned out to be visitors as well ("Мы сами не местные"). One of them eventually asked where exactly we needed to go -- I sheepishly translated "Love Island" into Russian. He replied, snickering, something to the effect of "There's even one of those here, is there?"

We were trying to make our way to "Love Island". We'd booked a nice-looking and surprisingly cheap room at this guesthouse, "located on the scarp of famous Lithuanian river — Nemunas, near the «Love» island". Druskininkai is a small town (pop. about 27,000), so should be easy to find. We followed the map I'd scribbled down from the "where to find us" info online, which led us into a newish, dacha-style suburb with large homes, barking dogs, few finished roads, a rapidly setting sun, and no mobile phone signal. Realizing we'd gone too far (we'd stupidly followed the only paved road), we retraced our steps and stopped to watch a couple of cars try to unstick themselves from a swampy mud-hole. One of the spectators seemed approachable -- I asked whether there was a "hotel" back there somewhere, in the dark and beyond the mud.

"Yes, there is a hotel! Come along, I'll show you. Though you should never try to get there this way, through these mudflats. As you can see, too muddy! But please, follow me, I'll take you there, through this mud, just, please assure me you won't come this way next time -- what with all this mud! Come along, it's just over here, you can see it there, just on the other side of this mud." (This all exclaimed via excited Lithuanian-Russian-German lexical mash-up.) It was quite hilarious. Indeed, just past all the mud, in the middle of a field, was the "Love Island" guesthouse. It was a very nice place, just impossible to access in Druskininkai's squishy soft-earth season.

Actually, the town's raison d'etre is all things "sanatorium". It's a much-visited (by Polish pensioners) health resort and is therefore famous for its therapeutic mud and mud procedures, not to mention its "7 unique spurting mineral springs". It seems the contemporary spa is gradually replacing the sanatorium, however, meaning things like '4-hands relaxation and aromatherapy massage with choice of fruit smoothie' is quickly moving up the popularity scale while 'rectal mud tampon' drops out of sight and into the therapeutic procedural history book. Reflecting this recent trend is the town's newest highlight -- Vandens Parkas -- a massive aquapark, one third of which is dedicated to an enormous baths/bathhouse complex offering several fanciful steaming options representing various national traditions. The Hamam baths even have a "dancing ground... on which the belly dancers appear according to your request." We jealously watched the introductory video in the Parkas luxurious lobby, but sadly didn't have time to visit (nor the requisite bathing suits).

The fellow who showed us the way to "Love Island" had pointed out the better way to get to town -- 50 metres thataway along the building in the opposite direction, then turn 90 degrees and follow the mud-road, but walk next to it on the high grasses through the brush and brambles, and you'll eventually come to a paved road. We managed it despite the undeveloped-subdivision rural darkness. We were lucky it was a moonlit night or we'd never have made it to, or back from, town for/with provisions. Here's what the mud-field looked like the next morning (some flattening and redistibution had been done early that a.m. by (noisy) bulldozer, and there'd been a bit of hardening overnight). Never did see the river, so not sure whether we actually were on a "scarp".

Our Druskininkai-nian exodus begins at the bus station. And we're off ... to a slow start and even slower road -- towards Lithuania's second-largest city, Kaunus.