The Baltic states: small wonders

BY HARRY GIBBONS

The Baltic states, independent since the early 1990s, have emerged as a new summer playground for Europe. The ancient architecture, delicious and varied local and international cuisine and outdoor pursuits provide an exciting pot-pourri of tourist delights.

LITHUANIA

Our day-long rail journey from Poland to Lithuania's capital Vilnius was buoyed by the company of a delightful elderly woman. She was returning to her homeland, and her excitement, which grew the nearer we drew to the Lithuanian border, proved infectious. We also caught glimpses of a different, older world outside the carriage window. The architecture of Tsarist-era railway stations flashed past between sightings of shirtless farmers harvesting grain on smallholdings with scythes. The few stock - cows, sheep and horses - were tethered, and the farmland shared a seemingly endless flat vista with the immense Baltic pine forests that cover a third of the country.

We arrived at rush hour. Here, the custom on public transport appeared to be to shove anyone in your way into the gutter. Might was right.

The city is perched along the picturesque Neris River, and after walking its banks we found most of the locals and tourists around the cathedral square and medieval old town. Here, an array of eateries, shops, most of the the city's 20 or so churches, Eastern Europe's oldest university and the Jewish quarter are secreted in 13th-century winding streets which are fun to explore. Much of the city's amber products are here, too. "Baltic gold" ranges from bright yellow to deep blood red and is found in Poland, Lithuania and neighbouring Belarus.

We had been warned that motorists in all three Baltic countries were bloody-minded. We soon noted a fondness for tailgating, cutting lanes and dangerous overtaking. The region has the highest rate of traffic fatalities in the European Union. Buses in ditches and a head-on collision between two others was disconcerting. Self-drive travellers should keep within speed and drink- driving limits: enforcement of both is strict, and breaches result in a mandatory 10-day prison stay, with no exceptions for tourists.

A particularly sombre visit was to a former KGB (Soviet secret police) prison. It now houses the city's museum of Soviet years, and reminds locals and visitors how precious the recently won freedoms are.

The upper floor reveals eavesdropping equipment and photographs of the massacres and mass deportations that were common under Soviet rule after the end of World War II. A narrow staircase descends to the cells and execution yard. A padded cell, into which victims of torture were thrown, and the grim silence of the small execution yard are chilling sights.

LATVIA

We took a comfortable coach for the 300km journey to Latvia's biggest city, Riga, a straight four- lane road across more of the endlessly flat Baltic landscape. We arrived as Russia's military entered Georgia, and the looks of concern and fear as crowds watched large public screens showed that memories of a harsher regime have not yet faded.

The riverbanks of central Riga, the largest of the three Baltic capitals, are lively and welcoming, with groups of musicians and dancers in traditional costume, and a street of wonderfully restored art nouveau architecture by Russian architect Mikhail Eisenstein - jewels of Eastern European architecture.

The Latvian capital proved to be two-faced. The gaiety in the parks and restaurants was countered by a more sullen countenance away from key visitor sites and in the suburbs. Underground walkways and suburban railways come with cautions for visitors, and we were advised to take care in selecting nightlife venues.

There were yet other signs that, like Lithuania, all was not well in the fledging democracy. We saw three youths taunting a beggar and idly hacking at his disabled leg. No- one intervened. The brutal reputation of Baltic gangs may have something to do with the more sombre mood.

ESTONIA

The capital Tallinn feels distinctly Scandinavian, with prices to match. Our four-star hotel overlooked the walls of the 600-year-old medieval town on one side and a railway wasteland on the other. Each day, cruise ships unload their passengers, making access to shops and cafes highly competitive.

We delighted in the twisting alleys and ancient architecture of the old town, the local cuisine, and the bubbliness and gaiety of the local people. The beer was superb, served in giant steins. Wild boar and elk featured on many menus, although traditional Russian cuisine was well worth searching out.

We found the former royal estates of Kadriorg an easy 20-minute walk from our hotel. The grandeur of the Tsarist summer palace was enhanced by nearby forest and riverbank paths, a welcome break from the inner-city bustle.

Before flying out, we joined a huge civil reception in the central square to welcome back Estonia's Olympic medal winners. Flags, bands and an array of colourful costumes provided an amazing finale to our stay in the Baltics.

- © Fairfax NZ News