Siauliai, Lietuva

We weren't the only ones heading to Siauliai (pronounced "Show-lay"..., "ow" as in "ouch"). Fortunately, we'd followed the otherwise spotty advice provided at the info-booth and bought tickets inside the station. Seat number assignments do mean something in the Baltics (even -- or especially -- on buses and in cinemas), which can be handy when things start getting tight. J wasted no time shooing an interloping duo out of our seats -- nos. 41 and 42, the back of the bus -- a great perch from which to follow the unwieldy and complex Rubic's-cubic seat-swapping game that ensued. The bus was nearly full, but passengers continued to board. It seems those who'd bought tickets from the driver had no official seat assignments, and were banished elsewhere once rightful claimants appeared. From a mathematical standpoint, one and only one resolution to the Siauliai shuffle was possible; it revealed itself when the 6 or 7 seatless travellers finally admitted defeat -- after a ridiculous, lengthy, yet forever optimistic, display of squeezing in and out, stowing and restowing of luggage, bumping, knocking and elbowing -- to stand in the aisle for the duration of the ride.

Why Siauliai? Well, we'd arranged to have a tour the following day of a decommissioned Soviet missile base located in Zemaitija National Park. The park was only a couple hours' drive from Sialiai, but not serviced by public transport, so we had no way of getting there. We'd looked into renting a car, but the major rental agencies only operated out of Vilnius and the coastal cities. We figured even if we didn't make it to the park, Siauliai was a convenient midway point on the upcoming return trip to Tallinn via Riga. We raced to Tourist Info before they shut down for the day, hoping they'd be able to call a local car rental agency on our behalf. In the end, they helped us strike a deal with a taxi company; a car with driver would take us to the base and back the following afternoon. We made it to the base, and back. Our driver twisted the agreement, however, demanding extra money in the end. And this, after accompanying us on the tour itself -- he'd never been there, and clearly quite enjoyed himself. I got to (had to) have my first argument in Russian since this trip began. I surrendered, exasperated and sputtering.

Here's a sneak peek at the entranceway to the missile base -- J is going to post about the base itself. That's Ausra, our tour guide, clinging cautiously to concrete while descending the narrow, snow-covered steps. The Russian graffitti above the door reads "Wipe Your Feet". Chomping at the bit is grumpy-driver man, eager to take advantage of the complementary tour.

We spent nearly all day with Mr. Grumpy, in fact. We'd ordered a taxi that a.m. to go to the Hill of Crosses, another Siauliai attraction, and he'd shown up for that. A Yahoo! video documents the weird walk-up-and-over the hill and features a great voice-over brief (by webmaster of "thelithuanians.com") compiled from the hill's Wikipedian entry and other sources. Whatever your take on pilgrimage and cross-planting, a giant pile of anything gathered over time is always eerie and interesting. The traditional Lithuanian carved crosses were particularly nice, as were the home-made ones (out of pipe, fencing, floorboard mouldings, pencils).

We rounded out our day of tourism with a visit to the Siauliai Bicycle Museum. "Vairas," located in Siauliai, was a major bicycle and engine factory in the Soviet time. It's since been privatized but continues to make bikes ("The Panther"). The museum had a lot of groovy exemplars from various bicycle manufacturers across the USSR and Europe. Sigh, makes a gal sorely miss her Écovélo, 'specially since the Tallinn snow's all melted.

The spiritual pilgrimage to the hill of crosses obviously didn't leave our cranky driver in a very beneficent mood. Though the super-friendly gals at Tourist Info arranged the car and told us it would be 35 Litas ("Don't pay until you get back..."), he informed us that that was the "old" price. Whatever. He was the one sputtering this time, as he fought to explain this in very patchy English. We ignored his artful pleas, rightfully kept our cash and jumped out of the car.

When the same guy wandered into the hostel later that day, it had to be to pick us up for the missile base trip. Without thinking, I blurted out -- in Russian -- "It's us -- again."
"A-ha, you speak Russian." Despite having found a common language, he welcomed no chit-chat, saving his words instead for the second (by now, inevitable) price feud of the day.

We had a blast in Siauliai despite having to act like real tourists in order to get to these hard-to-access places. It was smaller and far less ostentatious than some of the other cities we'd visited. We had a chuckle at this shoe store's display; it opens onto the city's main walking and shopping promenade.

We stayed at Siauliai Kolegijos Jaunimo Navynes Namai -- a former college, very nicely renovated and serving as a "youth" hostel. The staff was cranky here, too, though warmed up substantially, giving us student discounts on the already dirt-cheap per-bed charge.

By the end of our 2-day stay, we had sampled some delicious snacks and sipped a variety of tasty local "trauktine" (bitters) at a handful of places around town. We were even welcomed like regulars at the nearby theatre cafe where we'd returned 3 times for snacks, beer and breakfast. I particularly enjoyed watching the giant projection of Cher's "Believe" concert DVD through dinner at "Arkos" on March 9. On this day-after-women's-day, we were surrounded by staff parties, bouquets and store-bought cakes. No one was holding back on vodka or congratulatory toasts.

We made another bus blunder the morning of our departure from Lithuania. We hadn't bothered checking bus times to Riga, assuming idiotically that one would be revving up to go just as we wandered over to the station, putting us in Riga at exactly the right time to transfer to the Riga-Tallinn express. But there would be no bus to Riga for another hour. And, despite the mere 128 kms that needed covering, it would purportedly take 3.25 hours to get there! The bus belched out of Siauliai and limped down the crippled road to Riga. There were 5 of us heading out this Sunday morning on a full-sized coach, and 2 got off at the first stop. (We were nearly 6, but the driver barred entrance to a puffy-faced, black-eyed, bloodied and reeking drunk -- standing vertical only because propped up and tended to by a companion.) We reckoned our tickets didn't even cover the cost of gas. We pulled into Riga earlier than forecasted -- at exactly noon -- and, miraculously, just as the Riga-Tallinn bus was pulling out. We flagged it down and were able to assemble the fare from our various currencies. We were back in Tallinn at dinnertime.