A Baltic State-ment from 1998

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Back on the Road

The Baltic States, Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania were to be our new mission. We bought a return flight to Estonia and so on a gloomy rainy summer’s day we flew out into the unknown.
We arrived mid afternoon and made our way to the Bus Station and bought tickets for an overnight coach to Vilnius (Lithuania)
We had two weeks to visit 3 countries, so I came up with the plan of taking the overnight coach to Lithuania and then working our way back up to Estonia via Latvia. So with the tickets bought, we now had about 6 hours to kill, so we caught a tram back to the centre. I wanted to try and avoid seeing too much of downtown Estonia as we would be spending the last few days here before we flew back home. The Coach Journey was an absolute nightmare, it is difficult at the best times to sleep on board a coach but we had to travel through many border posts to get to Vilnius. I would drift off to sleep and then be rudely awakened by a Solider demanding to see my Passport and being made to get of the coach while they stamped my passport.

Lucky Town

Sitting in Mcdonalds, near the bus station at 8am after a torrid night of no sleep, I nursed my coffee and stared at the rain which was coming down in bucketfuls. I said to Jeff while stifling a yawn” What’s the plan then?” “Let’s walk to centre and find a hostel” he replied.
We walked for hours and hours but could not find anything that fitted our budget. Jeff wanted to give up and check into an expensive gaff but I came up with the goods and found Litinterp Hostel, it was in a backstreet right in the city centre.
We lucky to find this hostel, I knew this for a fact because our host told us this; he was amazed we found the place, because we did not book ahead.
We were exhausted so we took an afternoon nap, I woke after a couple of hours to the noise of Jeff’s snoring, it wasn’t that loud, just really annoying. I never really noticed it before when we were rooming together on our previous travel adventures but now it was really pissing me off. To stop him snoring I would shout things out loud, pretending I was talking in my sleep.

This Gravy Train is bound for Glory

That evening we ventured into Vilnius’s centre nightlife and looked for the Holy Grail of bars, i.e. a decent bar in a new city. We had a few pointers in the right direction having picked up “The in your pocket guide to Vilnius” (as the Journey went on these guides would be become invaluable as our guide books were woefully inaccurate with information on bars and accommodation)
The first bar we went into was “The all-Star Sports Bar”. It had huge screens on all the walls which guaranteed a televisual fest from every angle, pity they were showing Baseball. I was impressed with the bar it would be great to watch Man Utd games with Team Moston. But I was not impressed with the food; I tasted the worst burger I have ever had. How hard can it be to make a burger? It does not take f**king rocket science to make a decent burger.
We hit a few more yuppie type bars before deciding on “The Dubliner” (fake Irish bar, you will find one in every city) these places are good for meeting ex-pats and decent food.
The place was hardly rocking and we took a seat near the stairs that led up to Restaurant. We sat in silence for awhile, realising the night had been a wash out, then Jeff went up to the second floor for a call of nature, when he came back down he was very excited “You’ll never guess who is stood at the upstairs bar?” he spluttered. “Who” I asked trying to stifle a yawn”
“The dad from the Oxo adverts” he said “Fuck off” I replied to him and then adding “Its probably just a bloke who looks like him” Jeff was insistent saying “No no its definitely him” Listen up Jeff “Your tired and you had a few to many sherbets, your mind is playing tricks on you” I continued by adding “Why the fuck would the Oxo Dad be in Lithuania?”
After a few more minutes sitting in silence, I grabbed my pint and told Jeff “Fuck it, Lets go and see your Oxo man then”
We marched to bar and I ordered two pints of Lager and scanned the bar and then I spotted him at the corner of the bar near the restaurant. F*ck me it was the man himself Oxo dad. “Jeff your right” I said meekly. After a few minutes of staring at him we walked over and introduced ourselves to him.
Jeff being the fountain of all (useless) knowledge knew his real name was Micheal Redfern
He seemed like a good guy (like is in on the adverts) he told us that was in Vilnius making a Robin Hood TV show, it was a low budget job in the style of Xena/Hercules type show. He was playing a Squire. The forest surrounding the City is excellent for doubling for Sherwood and of course the extras are very cheap.
He went on to tell us that the Oxo family ads had been axed and acting offers had dried up like the gravy granules he advertised so well. But now he was earning decent money now with this gig in Lithuania. I made a gag about “Riding the Gravy Train” while you can, he chuckled at my gag (he was not only a nice guy but he had a good sense of humour too)
I am afraid to say I went a bit too far, when his table in the restaurant was finally ready for him to go and eat, we shook his hand and said our goodbyes to him, as he walking into the dining room I shouted to him “hey Michael make sure you ask for Oxo gravy on your roast potatoes” while simultaneously rubbing my thumb along my fingers making the world famous sign of crumbling an Oxo cube. This time he did not laugh and give me a look of utter contempt, Jeff was laughing very loudly, at my stupidity but what the hell we were a few sheets to the wind.

Preying for a Miracle

The next morning nursing a hangover, I set out to explore the city. Vilnius is small and compact, and is easy to navigate; I headed first to the Cathedral and checked out the Gates of dawn that are built into the origin wall. I stepped inside and find the chapel with the holy image of the Virgin Mary that is famous for making miracles happen. I knelt down in from of her and made a silent pray that I could win the Jackpot on the national lottery or if not, that Jeff would cease from snoring.
Moving on to the K.G.B museum, it was a former prison and it was kept intact from the bad old days. I explored the cells, they were very horrific and chilling, and on the walls were diagrams and pictures of tortures that were committed in the name of communism. It was grime viewing indeed but interesting, I prefer seeing this kind of thing rather visiting another church or monastery.
Back at the Hostel we drew a plan of the places we wanted to visit in Lithuania and asked our host to book us into their sister hostels.

No More Lonely Nights

We got the bus to Kaunas, which turned out to a big ugly city, after a full day of travelling and getting lost trying to find the hostel, which turned out to be a home-stay (our room was some old people’s living room) I was not in the mood for going out that evening so I lay on my fold out sofa bed listening to euro pop on the antique stereogram, suddenly “Are you lonesome tonight” by Elvis Presley boomed out. Wow I thought this so apt; here I was a 1000 miles away from my loved one, lying in the dark in someone’s living room.

Lights going out and i kick in the Balls

The next day we got the fuck out of there and headed to the seaside. Klaipeda was our destination. Klaipeda with Palanga and Nida are known as the “Baltic Riviera”. Kalipeda was blown to smithereens during WW2 but with its refreshing sea air and sunshine it really seemed we were on holiday for the first time.
We found our Hostel, dumped our backpacks and headed into town, after drinking many of the local beers (Svturys) in the Black Cat Tavern we were well pissed by the time we exited the bar. Walking back to the digs in the dark streets that had about one Lamppost per street we became hopelessly lost. I decided to sing loudly “Glory Glory Man Utd”, punching my arm in the air, when from nowhere a car screamed to halt in front of us, lamplights beaming into our faces.
5 youths exited the car and surrounded us, while shouting in broken English “Money give”. “Oh shit were dead” I said in a sing song voice. They then proceeded to push us down an alley that was dark and stank of piss and shit, the Alley was a dead-end; there was nowhere to run to. Pined to the wall now, I felt hands all over body, inside my pockets, I looked at Jeff and he looked terrified because the biggest one of the gang had a knife held to his throat. Lucky for us we had left our valuables in the safe back at the digs, so all they managed to get from us was some notes and loose change. Realising that we had fuck all on us, they began beating us up, I tried to fight back but I was kicked and punched to ground and i rolled myself into a ball. After awhile the beating ceased, I then heard screams from Jeff, then a roar of a car engine and all was quiet except for the sound of Jeff sobbing quietly. I climbed gingerly to my feet and searched for Jeff. I found him in a dumpster, lay amongst all the crap. “Jeff are you ok? What happened to you” I enquired while feeling for anything that was broken. “They lifted me up in the air threw me in here” he said as he climbed out. “You were lucky, I think they must have used up all there energies on kicking the shit out of me” I told him. Now sober we found our bearings and made it back to the hostel without further incident. I was ok, I had a few cuts and bruises, nothing major, sometimes in life you have to take a beating, and this was certainly one of them.

A Real Disco Pro

I woke at dinnertime, Jeff had already deserted the room, I took a shower and I headed out to see of the sights of Klaipeda. I checked out a couple of nondescript churches and another KGB museum, it was similar to the one in Vilnius but smaller in scale, then I walked up to the “German Soldier’s Cemetery, which is kind of interesting in a morbid sort of way, most of the headstones were broken.
After a spot of lunch I went to the Lithuanian Sea Museum, I was lucky enough to be in time for a Dolphins and Sea lions show.
I was not in mood to go out in the evening, I was feeling very tired from a day spent walking and seeing sights not to mention getting a good hiding the night before.
In the end Jeff persuaded me to go for a few beers in a nearby Hotel bar; we sat at the bar, laughing and joking about the previous night events. Were we drinking in Radisson SAS, and as unusual with these western business type hotels the foyer had a couple of small groups of hookers doted around the place.
At around 11pm we went into the Hotel Disco which was located in basement. The place was empty, save for few hookers and some mafia types sat in the corner, I decided to turn in for the night, leaving Jeff to his own devices. Jeff stumbled into the room in the early hours, mumbling to himself, I told him to shut the fuck up, and then tried to get back to sleep.
The next day we made the short journey to Nida, on the way there, Jeff told me about his sordid night in the Disco: “After you left, I ordered a vodka, then another vodka, then another vodka, the next thing I knew is that was sitting with the hookers buying them drinks and dancing with them. They had a small room at the side of the DJ booth; it was about the size of broom cupboard with a small single bed. Vera, I think was her name lead me in there and said to me “suck or fuck?” I decided to have both for $30; she was tall, blonde and beautiful, well worth it”.

Thomas you are the Mann

Nida sits half-way down the Curonian Spit, 98 kilometre-long, Unesco-protected slither of banana -shaped sand stretching from Kalingrad’s ( Russia) Sambian Peninsula in the south all the way to Lithuania. We found a guesthouse which was situated close to the lagoon, it felt great to kick back and relax for a couple of days after the excitement of the last couple of days. The bars was not up to much, it mostly restaurants, so in the evenings we spent the night drinking in the garden at the back of our digs.
Nida is famous for the “Dunes” (kopos) they are incredible natural lumps of sand and are as fragile as the come. I walked along the beach and climbed up the 159 steps where I was met by fantastic panoramic views of the lumps, in the distance was Russia; I was so close but yet so far. We had talked about taking a train to the border and seeing if we could buy a visa at the border post but in the end we bottled out.
Another amazing discovery I learnt about Nida was that Thomas Mann had once lived there; I had just finished reading all his books. Thomas Mann is a German Nobel Prize-winner author of Death in Venice, Doctor Faustus and many other novels and short stories. His cottage that overlooks the lagoon is now a museum and it did feel great to visit his summer house and try to imagine what it must have been like to be living there in the early 1930s, getting his inspiration from the fantastic views and refreshing sea air.

GoodFellas

It was time to leave Lithuania and we took a bus to Riga (Latvia), Jeff had been to Riga on a weekend break the year before and never dreamt that he would back again the following year. We had to walk quite far from the city centre to our hotel, the one that Jeff had stayed in the year before. Our room overlooked the main road which on the opposite side stood a Mafia bar, in which Jeff spent much of his time when he was last here.
That evening we went in the Mafia bar, I hated immediately, it just wasn’t my scene, too many dodgy characters. I left and went to our room and read my book. Jeff came back to room excited, with tales of a bar room brawl which involving a stabbing.

Shes a Model and shes looking good

The next day I set and explored the city, I wondered the streets of Riga and came across many historic churches, a castle, the Daugeva River. But what caught my eye the most was the beautiful women. They were everywhere, standing at tram stops, sitting on buses, serving in bars and cafes and walking past you in the street. I roughly estimate that 80%!o(MISSING)f all Lativan young ladies are A1 f**king gorgeous. But then something odd happens, once they get to a certain age, let’s say 35 they turn into a typical stocky Russian type. I think the process is known as "From Supermodel to Superminger in one full swoop". Maybe they should introduce some Draconian laws like in the movie "Logan's Run"(Set in a future world where when you reach the grand old age of 30 you get terminated) they could call it "Lena's Run".

Pizza Face

I found Dome square, the heart of old town Riga. It’s Centrepiece, Dome Cathedral, a massive building the soviets turned into a concert hall. Then I went to the strangely name “The House of the Blackheads", I found the distinctive red brick building easily. I was expecting there to many pimple faced adolescents hanging around outside (probably skate boarding) but I was surprised to find it was museum. It dated back to the 14th century, according to local legends, the men wore black caps and indulged in mad banquets and heavy drinking sessions (sounds like my kind of gaff). I came up with a good advertising slogan for it "Zits the place to be".

Led Zeppelin

I walked to the train station, intending to buy tickets for our journey to Estonia when I came across a large building that lots of people were entering and leaving. I took it to be an indoor market, which turned out to be true. In fact it was one of four old Zeppelin hangers from WW1. I did not realise that those cheeky
Chappies from German had parked there hot air balloons in Latvia. Unless Latvia had there own Zeppelins but i don’t remember my history books from school that they took part in WW1 but I could be wrong.
Inside the market I was met by the unusual sight of never ending stalls selling every kind meat imaginable.
Sausage seemed to be the main item on offer, but other things were on display like shanks of meat, small cutlets of steak were being sold by middle age women looking like extras from a cold war movie. I wondered why nothing else was on display you would think that there would be a stall selling vegetables perhaps? The answer turned to be straight forward, I was in the meat hanger and the others sold fruit and vegetables.
I did not any tickets because I could not work out which kiosk to buy them from and I was feeling tired so I caught a tram back to the hotel for a siesta.

Irish are smiling tonight

Jeff came into the room and awoke me from my slumber and then told me that he plans for the evening which involved visiting a lady friend who he had been conversing with on the internet. He caught a taxi to her apartment which was located in a concrete hellhole on the far side of town. I was determined not to spend another evening staying home so I headed to down to the hotel bar and sat on stool and talked some shit to the friendly bartender. He recommended I should try "Paddy Whelans" the only Irish bar in town.
There is a popular saying that goes something like this " That there is a corner of a foreign field that is forever England" Well my saying is "In a corner of a foreign field there is always an Irish bar" which is always full of ex pats. I got a taxi there and found a seat at the bar and I soon got talking to 3 crazy Aussie guys: Brett, Heath and Stevie. All 3 of them were working the bars in Riga for the past few years and were enjoying all that Latvia had to offer i.e.: cheap (Cold) beers and beautiful women. They were celebrating Stevie's birthday and were knocking back the local brew "Zelta" like it was going out of fashion. When I told them I was from Manchester, they whooped in delight as they were big Man United fans. They included me in there round and I was soon feeling quite pissed. The "Zeltas" went down very well; they had the strength of Stella and were very tasty indeed. At midnight they decided to move on to a club and invited me along, I quickly checked my cash situation; I had enough money as the Aussies had been paying for beers all night.

I bet you look good on the Dance floor

We caught a cab to the far side of town to Club Essential. We walked past the queue that snaked around the corner, we got let in for free as the guys were mates with the bouncers, and it felt great walking in there, like a hotshot celebrity. The Club was rammed full of beautiful women, who were off their tits on "E".
I looked around and thought to myself "here I was in the best club in Riga which I had just got in for free; I was with 3 cool guys who seemed to know everyone, especially the beautiful women. As the advert goes “If Carlsberg did Nightclubs". But wait! What was that awful racket, oh know Techno music! Shit! Shit! I f**king hate Techno music. There was one solution to this I had to get hammered and try and block it out. I bought a drink and joined the guys who sat near the dance floor with some Latvian lovelies. The drink of choice was "Riga Black Balsam" a spirit that tasted a bit like rum but with a bigger kick. We knocked them back neat and in one shot.
Suddenly the music changed from Techno hell to ElectricBugaloo, a circle was formed and the break dancing was happening in the centre. I was up and did my best Breakin moves, I even tried spinning on my head but I failed miserably but I did not care as I was having so much fun. After all the dancing it was back to the Black Balsams and this is where I made my great error, I should have stopped drinking but the guys were egging me on, calling me " a f**king light weight Pommy bastard". So I did it for Queen and country and matched them drink for drink.

Black-Out

This is where it all went a bit fuzzy, the last memory I have of the night was: I was on the dance floor smooching with a blond piece, lets call her Svetlana and I felt sick so I stumbled off the dance floor and made a bee-line to the toilet.
My next memory is being shaken awake by 2 big burly bouncers. I was sat on leather sofa, all was quiet, and I looked around quickly and saw that the club was empty except for a few waiters stacking chairs. I was politely manhandled out of the comfy sofa and shoved out the fire exit at the back of the club.
I was feeling groggy and my head was banging. I tried to get my bearings, I walked out the alley. I searched for a main road but there was none. I walked in the direction I hoped would lead me to one. I was hoping to flag a cab down to get me home. After walking about 30 minutes I soon became tired and disillusioned. In fact I did not see any cars at tall. I arrived at a park and went inside. I checked my watch it was 5am, I reasoned that the sun would be up in a few hours and I could maybe then get a tram into the city centre. I was exhausted and hung-over, so I decided to crash out on a bench, I pull my coat over me to keep warm and fell into a deep sleep.

Parklife

I was with Svetlana, lying on silk sheets and she was kissing me all over, slowly she was moving from my lower torso up to my face, she was now licking my face, mmmm it felt so nice and then I woke up to fine an Alsatian dog’s big face close up to mine and his tongue was wet and rough on my face. I leapt to my feet, startled, and shouted "get the fuck off me you dirty fucking mutt" Then I noticed the 2 police officers dressed in all black, one of them was restraining the dog which was now barking loud as fuck and trying to bite my balls off.
They interrogated me asking for me for I.D, which I could not show them as I had left my passport back in the hotel safe. I tried to explain to them why I was sleeping on a park bench but it is a bit difficult as they spoke minimum English. I raised my voice loudly hoping that this would help them to understand me.
Then came the inevitable rubbing of thumb against fingers (international money sign) "you pay fine for sleep in park"
"Ok ok no worries" I told them as I checked my pockets frantically for my dosh, sadly they were empty save for a few coins (and they were Lithuanian ones)
They were not impressed with my lack of funds, I was sure I had enough money to cover a small fine but I guessed that Svetlana had probably gone through my pockets when I crashed out in the club or I spent it all on drinks for her and me.
I told them that if they take me to my hotel, I would get them the money for the fine.
They put me in the back seat with the dog, which was now muzzled but was still growling at me.
"Ok where to?" asked the Meninblack
"Err, emm" I stammered. Shit I could not remember the name of the Hotel. Hotel Mafia I thought to myself.
"I don’t know the name but if you drive to the city centre I can show you"

Banged up Abroad

After 30 minutes of fruitless searching for the hotel, they decided they had enough of my fun and games and took me to the police station. I was not messing them around it was just that I had completely lost my bearings in the dark.
The cell was bright and modern, not what I was expecting, I thought it would something like one from the KGB museum which was dark and dank.
I lay on the bunk and closed my eyes and I thought "where did it all go wrong? One minute i was in heaven and now I am in hell, shit". And then I fell into a dreamless sleep.
I was woken by a guard banging on the bars with his truncheon shouting "English English get up" then I heard him laughing as he walked away along the corridor.
Presently two guards came in the cell; one of them was carrying a tray with bread, cheese and a drink on it.
I stood up and stuck out my chest and said "I know my rights. I am British citizen, and I demand that you contact the British embassy immediately". They seemed taken aback my outburst, then they both smiled at each and turned to me and said "Embassy not work on Sunday"
I slumped back down on bunk. The wind had truly been taken out my sails. I could feel my emotions taking over. But I fought back my tears. Then they exited my cell and left with me with my full Latvian Breakie and my lonely thoughts.
So I spent a lonely Sunday behind bars, pacing up down my small cell thinking about the absurd situation that I had got myself into. I wondered what Jeff was thinking when I did not return to the hotel and did he get lucky with the Latvian lass?
At regular intervals during the day I had laughing policemen shout things into my cell like: Winston Churchill, Margaret Thatcher, Bobby Charlton, Nobby Styles and some of London’s famous landmarks like Big Ben, Tower of London. I had become a minor celebrity. Little did they did they know, that in the future when the English stag parties would invaded Riga and piss in their fountains that it would be a regular occurrence to lock up crazy Englishmen. I must admit I did find it rather amusing and it broke up the boredom.
In the evening a couple of guards came into the cell with beer and cigarettes and we conversed (as best we could) about England and Football.

I am not a Number! I am a free man

In the morning the guy from Embassy turned up and I told him my tale of woe and he agreed with me that it was all nonsense. He told me "I will have you out of here in a Jiffy. About 20 minutes later and true to his word, I was a free man again. I did not even have to pay my fine. I said goodbye to my new friends at the Station. The guy from Embassy turned out to be a very decent chap, as he then gave me a lift to my hotel.
I found Jeff sitting in the foyer with our rucksacks, looking forlorn. He leapt from his seat shouting "where the fuck have you been?” I told him my about my amazing adventure, his jawing lower and lower as I recounted my tale. Then I asked him “so how was your night?”
"It was bloody hard to find her apartment as they all looked same. It was on the 11th floor and the lift was not working. I had to sit on the floor all night as she had some friends round; she only had one sofa and a couple of stools. We drank cheap vodka. I tried to join in the conversation but everyone was speaking Russian. Then some big body building type guys turned up. I was sick in the bin in her bathroom. Then I made my excuses and left. It was a total washout.
I laughed and told him "well I am glad that it was not only me who had a crap night".
We paid the bill and a caught a tram to the bus station. We had luck as there was coach leaving for Estonia. It felt good to be on the move again. On the way to Tallinn Jeff confided in me "Kris I think I have caught something from that hooker in Klaipeda. I have been itching and my piss has turned to a funny colour" I told him to go and see a Doctor when we get back home.

L marks the spot

We found a double room at the Bike youth Hostel, so called because you can rent bikes (if you likes). It was in great location close to the old town.
Seeing the Old town did not take long as it was small and compact. I found another House of the Blackheads museum again and I wonder if all the Baltic capital cities had to have one by law. Sorry I am not doing anymore acne inspired gags. Ok maybe just one. "Come to the House of the Blackheads it’s the hottest SPOT in town.
I ambled around the cobbled streets. All of the old town streets are cobbled (Coronation Street eat your heart out)
Which meant it was not great for cycling. I could not see the bike hostel doing good business. In Tallinn mobile phones had taken off big time. The streets were teeming with guys in smart suits yapping away on them. I looked on enviously wishing I could afford a mobile phone.
In the corner of the town hall square I came upon two long cobblestones that formed the letter "L". My guide book informed me that this marked the spot where a priest had a waitress beheaded who had brought him food not to his liking.
There is a moral in there somewhere probably something like: Don’t become a priest until you have worked through your anger issues.
I mused on why they spelt out the letter "L"
Did it stand for Lost: as in “he lost his f**king head and she has lost hers too”
Or did it stand for Lunch: as in “the crazy bastard was out to lunch. In more ways that one”
Or Last (It was the Last Supper)
I feeling hungry and tired so I found a Russian restaurant and I order the special with was: Pickled gherkin dipped in honey, blintz (pancake) with caviar, and steak with roast potatoes, beetroot, and sweet white pumpkin. I was delicious, so I had no inclination to want to chop of the waitress's head, I even left a tip.

Close to FINish line

There was decent bar close to our digs that was run by a Scottish guy. He told us that he came for an international football game and fell in with the city and stayed on, that was five years ago.
It was good place to hang out. It was full of backpackers, so we would spend our evenings getting hammered on cheap booze and chatting to fellow travellers. We did check out some other bars but they were full of drunken Finnish guys (and I do mean drunk, as in falling over in the street drunk) With Tallinn being a mere 4 hour ferry Journey from Helsinki. It was easy to why many Fins would spend their holidays here getting wasted. In Finland the average price for a pint is probably something like 7 million quid and in Tallinn it was 50p. Do the math!
The Estonians may have worried about so many drunken Fins in there streets but at least they did not have English stag parties, well not yet anyway.
Jeff took some daytrips out to the islands of Parnu and Tartu.
I could not be bothered with anymore sightseeing. So to kill time I would take a bus to a multiplex and watch a couple of movies. I saw "Man in the iron mask" and Mad City. I must admit I was looking forward to going home. This holiday had been for too stressful and two weeks spent with Jeff and his snoring felt like a lifetime.

Nite Clubbing

It was the last night (thank god) and Jeff wanted to go to a nightclub. I did not want to go clubbing because we had an early morning flight at 7am but Jeff being a silver tongue charmer (not) talked me into going. After several drinks at Jock's place, we shook hands with the big man telling how great his bar was and he would not be seeing us again as we leaving in the morning. He gave us a free Le coq each (the Northern Baltic Beer), what a great guy.
We headed out into the dark night and found a club. It was located a bit away from the old town. The walls were dark and it was seedy. There were Lots of student types and it had a good mixture of older people. It was a good place except for the music, which was surprise surprise Techno. We found a table in the corner. I looked around and spotted a women who was the spitting image of Kim Wilde ( the fantastic songstress from the eighties) I had big crush on Kim back in the day, posters on wall, I even had a black and white sweat shirt like one she wore in her videos.

Back to the Eighties

I nudged Jeff and pointed her out and he concurred with me that she did indeed resembled the pop princess of the eighties. I said to Jeff "First we meet the Oxo dad now we have met my beloved Kim Wilde, this is turning out to be a very strange holiday". We talked for awhile why she would be in a seedy back street club in Riga. My theory was: After the hits dried up in the mid eighties and she got fed up of being recognised in Tescos, so she quit the UK to live incognito in Riga. A Pop star in exile indeed! After a few more Voddies, I plucked up the courage and I made my move. I notice her friend had gone to the bar so I strolled over to her.
As I got closer I noticed instantly that it was not Kim but what the hell. I tapped her on the shoulder and introduced myself. I was gobsmacked when she answered in a broad American accent "Hi how are you doing?" I quickly composed myself and offered to buy her drink and she said yes.
When I got back from the bar she introduced me to her friend Jane who was busy snogging with some tall blonde hair guy who looked a bit like Max headroom.

Big Mouth Strikes again

Kim turned out to be Wendy and she was out tonight celebrating her divorce coming through. She was now officially single. We got on really well, I told her how much she looked liked Kim Wilde and she said that she had a lot people tell her this. I even called her Kim by mistake a couple of times, but she just laughed and did not get upset. I was thinking this could be my lucky night. We got up dancing, well as best as you can dance to the crap music they were playing. I looked over and saw Jeff who was amusing himself at the bar talking with some students. We sat down and a few more double Voddies and out spilled her story: I dropped out high school and started waitressing and then I met Wayne (the bastard). I soon got pregnant and we got married and then we had another kid. Wayne got laid off at the lumber yard and joined the army. When he came home on leave from the gulf, he gave me a present but it was not a nice one. He gave me a sexual disease and when I confronted the bastard about it he gave me a black eye. I upped and left and moved back in with my folks in Nebraska. They lived in a small town and I soon became restless and bored. My dad died and he left me some dollars in his will. So Mama is looking after the children while I do a year’s of tour of Europe. Eight months I have been on the road now and you know what? I am missing home so much but most of all I miss my lovely children, Luke and Emma.
I said to her “I guess they must be The Kids in America then?" She looked at me sternly then she busted into tears and dashed off to the Loo.
Damn, I could kick myself, why I had try and crack a gag, when I should have kept my mouth shut.

Back Home

I was rooted to my seat, feeling like a fool. I waited for her return but she did not come back. After what seemed like an age I went over to see how Jeff was getting on.
Jeff seemed to getting on fine with his student friends. I bought a drink and I had look round the club for Kim/Wendy but she was no where to be seen. It was now 1am and we had to up at 5pm for the flight, so I made the cut and left Jeff at the bar ordering another round of double Voddies.
Jeff got back in the room at 4am, banging doors and cursing quietly to himself. He was pissed as fart. He awoke me from a sweet dream I was having of me and Kim making mad passionate love on a water bed. Jeff was like a Zombie the next morning at the Airport. I had great difficult to awake him in the morning for the Taxi. As soon as we got aboard the flight he crashed out and slept all the way home. I ate his meal and drink his free beers. As I gazed out of the window at the white clouds, I had to chuckle to myself. It had been a marvellous adventure but oh boy I could not wait to get home.
Postscript
I met Jeff a week later in the Dean brook Pub. He was drinking Orange juice. I asked him "Why are you on the Orange mate?" He shook his head dejectedly and said "I got a f**king dose" "What? Was it from that whore from Klaipeda?" I asked him "Yeah he replied sadly.
I must admit I did have a laugh at his misfortune. I said to him "So you got the Clap in Klaipeda?" and "Blue Balls in the Baltic". I was laughing so much at my own gags that my sides were aching. Jeff managed a rueful smile at my wonderful jokes. Jeff decided to go home early, I think he had enough of my jokes and plus he could not have any alcohol.
I did not see Jeff for a few weeks until his condition had cleared up and he could start boozing again.

---

Photos

Irish Pub
Find one in every town

Oxo (Iove you)
If you know your History, then you know where your coming from.

Micheal Redfern
Evening Squire..Where is the rest of the Family!

Main Square
Leaning Lighthouse of Vilinus

KGB Cell
I dont think i would like to stay here

Klaipeda
Wish you was Here

The Mean Streets of Klaipeda
The only Lamppost in Town

Hey Skip-per
Jeff are you in there

Sex in the Disco
Crazy Engleesh man come this way

Thomas Mann
Where are you from Nose City?

beautiful women
So many Lovely Women

My new Aussie Mate
Happy Birthday Stevie

Electric Boogaloo
I don't remember seeing any Break dancing Stormtroopers..

50p a Pint
Who's Complaining? Certainly not me

Jocks Place
He was a big Stones fan

Comments

[doggler]

very long but interesting.with good moments
you eastern block party animals,living on the edge!

[Marisha]

great story
Very interesting travel story! I wish I was there with you, honey xxx

[Henk]

Correction
Nice story but one little correction: The Leaning Lighthouse of Vilinus is in fact the Cathedral Belfry, so no lights from there. http://www.codelt.nl/Blog/lithuania-and-vilnius

[The EdgeMan]

hello
Hello Paka