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Published: October 7th 2007
Soggy in Trakai
And the rain fell...Unfortunately the weather didn't treat us kindly in Vilnius. The rain fell, and fell, and fell. The boys staged a revolt on the day assigned for our city tour. No more churches! We negotiated with the guide and driver to take us to Trakai, an ancient capital of Lithuania approximately 30 km from Vilnius and the setting for a medieval island castle surrounded by lakes, quaint timber bridges and birch forests. It would have been quite picturesque - if we'd been able to see through the rain.
The local cuisine was on the menu that night. The Lithuanians are partial (or so the Lonely Planet would have us believe) to a dumpling known as Cepelinai so we thought we would partake. If you imagine an overcooked 300gram gnocchi stuffed with sausage meat you'll be on the right track. We ordered two between four of us. We ate one. That was it for Lithuanian cuisine as far as we were concerned. The next night we had Japanese.
On Friday morning we said goodbye to the Baltics and braved Lithuanian airlines to fly to Paris. We survived, negotiated the TGV (very fast train) and arrived in beautiful Avignon at around three
Vilnius
One of the remaining Soviet monuments in Vilnius (and some silly people beneath it) in the afternoon to find the temperature nudging 30 degrees, paradise in the form of our B&B accommodation, and the most welcoming hosts - Elisabeth and Jean - who sat us down in their garden oasis and plied us with maps, brochures and restaurant advice. We spent the remainder of the afternoon exploring this gorgeous town and filled up on simple yet delicious French seafood.
"Today is the day that rugby died" P. Hughes, post Australia v England, Marseille, 6 October 2007.
Yesterday was a dark day for our rugby devotees. It started badly for the boys and steadily got worse. We missed our train to Marseille and had to pay 150 Euro for a taxi. On arrival at Stade Velodrome we found lengthy queues for drinks (on a rather hot day) and one toilet for 60,000 football fans. The decision was made to abandon pre-match festivities and settle into our stadium seats. We did so, knowing that we could not leave and be allowed re-entry. It was then that the boys discovered that the stadium was dry - no beer.
There is of course no need to mention the match or the result itself. It was
Surviving Lithuanian airlines
They look pretty relaxed, don't they? a gloomy crew dressed in gold who left the stadium and boarded trains for elsewhere in France, with us amongst it. The boys dissected the game and, miserable though they were, they were perked up considerably by text messages from mates at home who seemed even more despondent, nay distressed, than they.
Now, what to do with those semi-final tickets? I believe there might be a few Englishmen interested in them....
Postscript: Misery turned to joy last night when we witnessed France overcome the All Blacks on one of the many TVs set up in outdoor dining areas in Avignon. Whilst their own Wallabies had let them down, the Petes were overjoyed at France's win and saw fit, along with the locals and everyone else who wasn't a New Zealander, to celebrate well into the night. Avignon was alive with crowds and the narrow, winding streets were filled with a procession of cars and motorbikes, lights flashing, horns honking and French fans hanging out of the windows, flying flags. Allez Les Bleus!
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