Vilnius, Lithuania: where summer means your wool sweater has shoulder cutouts

Vilnius came as a big shock.  The guide book that I had devotes less time to Lithuanian than its Baltic sisters, Latvia, and Estonia.  So I got the feeling that this was going to be a relatively poor, downtrodden, Soviet-type city.  All three states were under soviet occupation until about 1991, and I just presumed that they would retain a lot of that old, Soviet character.

Boy, was I wrong.

There are vestiges of those times that can be seen, mostly in the form of warn, wooden log homes, nestled between luxuriously beautiful, pristine buildings.  Medieval style in Tallinn, art nouveau in Riga, baroque in vilnius.  They stick out like that pawn shop on 24th street that refused to sell when NYU dozed over everything else on that block.

But most of these three towns are exceptionally beautiful.  Clean, well-preserved, and modern. And Lithuania came as the biggest surprise.  It comes across as downright RICH.

Sure, the Airbnb I am staying at is $37 a night and is a split-level stone and wood home and a dining area with floor-to-ceiling Windows.  Sure, the average beer is €2.50, and even less if you are a little outside the city center.  Food is GOOD and CHEAP: I ate one of the best bacon cheeseburgers in my life here, complete with fries, for €7 at a simple bar called Marses.  A pork shank, with sauerkraut, mashed potatoes, Cole slaw, for less than €10.  But everyone in town is dressed stylishly. The old town pedestrian mall has a Hugo Boss, Prada, Burberry.  There's a whole slew of beautiful, fancy bars and outdoor cafes.  Vilnius is the biggest city in Lithuania by far, but it is also it's university town. I was expecting a hard-edged university town like bologna.  What I got was Florence.

It's the most south we've been so far, but still think it's still overcast skies and not too warm.  Most of the clouds had burned off mid-morning, but there's been a rain shower (including a heavy one) every day.  Most people here are dressed for our fall.  One woman, while I was wearing a tank top and yoga pants, was wearing a wool sweater, albeit with cutouts of her shoulders.  You know, "summer wool."

If it weren't for the London-like weather in the Baltic states, I think EVERYONE would be here.  But if you're not the kind of person who gives a shit about that, this place is a paradise.

And since we're talking about paradise: Today marks the third week of travel.  I have eaten 3 meals a day.  One of those meals is a light breakfast, maybe a granola bar or yogurt.  One meal generally involves bread, salami, and cheese.  One is a huge, meat-centric meal, with a salad that usually features some mayonnaise derivative.  An enormous meal.  A couple of glasses of wine involved, every day.

I don't get on scales, but I have lost, by my estimation, a good 5-8 pounds.

Before I left, I was on the heavier end of my weight spectrum with a discernible roll around my gut that I knew had to go.  It's pretty much gone.

True, I've eaten so much that I haven't had any room or desire for dessert.  But I don't eat a lot of dessert at home, either.  Yes, my major activity when I travel is walking and looking at shit.  Some days I've walked for a good 5 hours.  But I haven't run.  No squats or sit-ups.  Nothing involving an exercise other than walking and lifting a fork to my face.  And I do this every summer, with the same results.

I can't help but to think that it's the shitty quality of American food. And the stress of work.  When I come home from work, I should just padlock the fridge.  I treated myself to a $400 a month parking space this past year, thinking this would afford me the time for a nap before a dance class.  Nope.  I almost never took advantage.  Dinner's first course just started at 4:15.  No more garage for Cindy.  I don't deserve it.

I digress.  There's one caveat to this whole paradise situation: the homogeneity.  The Baltic states are WHITE.  Yes, it's mixed: mostly Baltic people with a smattering of polish, Russian, Belarusian in there.  And Im pretty sure that every brand of white person still has some other flavor of white person they don't like because they're "other."  Like how we read that when you go to a "sports club" in Latvia, you should "watch out for the Lithuanian girls," because they'll take all your money.  Like I'd be able to figure out who is who for heavens sake.

Lithuania is, according to Wikipedia, the most homogenous at about 85 percent Lithuanian.  The largest minority here is polish, at about 11 percent.  There are no people of color here.  Like, none.  We saw one black guy in the last three days.  The Muslim refugees from Syria et al haven't made it here yet.  We were at a really nice bar called "Rhum house."  I think rum is a novelty here... We're a long way from the Caribbean and vodka and beer seems to be king around here.  The menu had pages and pages of rum choices, and they also had a store where they sold bottles of rum I've never seen, from Martinique, for up to €170 a bottle.  But the walls were decorated with vintage rum ads, the ones with the caricatures of black people from the sugar cane plantations in the Caribbean: a slave looking starved, wrapped in a cloth.  A slave looking like aunt jemima, with the head wrap.  And one supermuscular black guy, doing a naked dance, smiling at you with exaggerated large, red lips, as he presents you his rum.

I was so uncomfortable. But how could they POSSIBLY know?!?  This is the whitest place I've ever been.  I can't imagine how weird it would be for a person of color to come here.  Then again, we have plenty of people of color in the USA, including our president, and it's Not a great time to be black in America, either.

Despite all of that, we really loved it here.  It's just nice.  And for travelers like us, who don't have a lot to spend, it feels really nice for a change to go out and have a beer and a meal without feeling like the world is trying to take you for everything you've got.  At home, I usually pay $13 and up for a cocktail.  We walk out of mediocre restaurants spending a fortune.  I can't walk out of My local supermarket without dropping $15 on salad fixings.

And while we were gone, it seems that "artisanal toast" is enjoying it's moment in the sun, for $7 a slice.  Fucking ridiculous.

There was a a lot of Jewish heritage stuff I had originally wanted to see, as Lithuania had a very large Jewish population before the nazis killed almost all of them, really quickly.  But I had already been to one holocaust museum on this trip.  Poland was like "get the fuck out" and then they were sent east, east, east until they were mostly incinerated or shipped off to cold-as-fuck Siberia, where if the Nazis didn't get them, the harsh Russian cold did. Never forget and everything, but one holocaust museum is definitely enough.  I get it.  Nazis suck, so did soviets.  Check.

Our last meal together was at a local traditional Lithuanian restaurant.  The star of the show was the "Zeppelin," a potato dumpling bigger than a softball, stuffed with salty cottage cheese, covered in cream sauce.  The waiter was nice enough to suggest a half portion, because it was very big.  He didn't have to do that.  And maybe I spoke too soon because I think my belly roll came back tonight.

What a wonderful place.  All of it.