Lithuania

It was late 2010 when I got a package sent home, containing introductory documents for my imminent internship at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Netherlands in The Hague. Among the documents to sign and procedures to follow to verify that I wasn’t a petty thief with a past of robbing chippers, the package contained an introduction to the StageCo. What I didn’t know at the time was that this vibrant community of interns would play an integral part in making my internship not only academically but also socially very rewarding. The StageCo was the beginning of what has turned out to be friendships that last longer than the weekly drinks at Plein 19. Eagerly ripping open those envelopes, little did I know that it was the beginning of a journey that would take me all the way to Lithuania, more than 5 years later. The first lustrum trip was a great success; that many more may follow!

‘This is an anchor. It weighs 200 tonnes. It has nothing to do with this museum.’ Olga, our guide during our tour of the ninth fort, kept a smooth face while we chuckled at yet another random item in the underground aisles of the fortress. It seemed that any object of historic relevance that the Lithuanian government had to find a home for was conveniently dumped in the bunker a few kilometres outside Kaunas. The same went for a range of WW II memorabilia (the bunker served in WW I), neatly displayed in a glass box, and a Howitzer canon. ‘This canon was designed to kill infantry.’ Olga points to a less chunky unit. ‘Range such and such, crew 8. And this is the Howitzer. It was used in WW II and thus has nothing to do with this museum.’ We chuckled again, as she carried on towards the next object. ‘What was it designed to kill?’ Although very entertaining, Olga sounded as if she had swallowed an encyclopaedia on Baltic history and could answer any question, so I couldn’t resist to keep on asking. ‘Universal.’ She managed to keep a straight face, while I grinned and cherished my new ammunition for another quote.  

If it hadn’t been for Manon, we would never have learnt of the range of the Howitzer, the dark history of the ninth fort, or Olga. The place looked dead and deserted upon our arrival (‘Trip Advisor says you have to awkwardly cross a highway so let’s do that instead of checking out the tunnel’) and the front door of the fortress was shut. After an opportunistic attempt from Manon however, the door opened and a tiny old lady emerged. The pair exchanged some throat sounds (Russian, apparently) and a little later we were inside the museum and introduced to Olga. Well, cultural box ticked, let’s see what this ‘vibrant nightlife’ is all about!

My second night ever in Lithuania would prove a memorable one. The first night was less exciting, although still worthy of eternalising in my blog. It was only Wednesday evening that I realised that upon arrival in Vilnius Thursday night, the last train to Kaunas would already have left. Hence I postponed my reunion with the other former interns and checked in into a most peculiar hostel. In the ‘come to Vilnius hostel’ you take off your shoes on arrival and get served pancakes for breakfast by lovely Rita. The walls are covered with carpet and there are signs telling you to stay quiet after 10 lest you get kicked out into the street. Loved it. I vividly remember the excitement I felt when walking from the train station to the hostel Thursday night; being in a new city, a new country, inhaling the cold winter air, catching the fragrant scent of charcoal that nostalgically reminded me of my Erasmus in Poland… every time I set foot in a new country I get overwhelmed by a feeling of exhilaration that tells me the explorer in me is still very much alive and kicking.

The alcoholic in me is certainly still alive as well, as the subsequent night made clear. We started with a nice cold pint at around 4 in the afternoon and didn’t finish until a good 12 hours later when we left the last club. The evening had featured a traditional dinner, a decrepit rooftop bar, live music and table football in a cosy Brazilian place, and some decent clubbing in what the others tell me was an underground dance venue. It was one of those evenings where you laughed more than talked, and all thanks to Lee Towers, whose virtual presence made every Lithuanian national an endless source of entertainment.

·       ‘Could we have your autograph? You are like really famous in our country.’

·       Bob: ‘Ik heb vannacht van een Lee Towers look-a-like gedroomd.

Me: ‘Wit-Russen… Polen… Letten….’

·       ‘Wat hebben Kaunas en Vilnius gemeen? Lee Towers.’

Etc etc etc…. you get the gist (if you’re Dutch).

The next morning was tough, especially for Roelant, who only started to recover after some salty snacks at six pm that evening. Despite the hangover Saturday was quite pleasant however, featuring river-side strolls in the sun, gawking at bogus medieval towers, lovely fruit shakes (‘five more??’) and endless Lee Towers jokes. Kaunas has some fine historic architecture but after a good day out and about we had covered pretty much everything (‘we hebben Kaunas nu echt wel uitgespeeld’) so we decided to spend the last day in Vilnius. Well, that wasn’t before another entertaining evening in Lithuania’s ever-vibrant second city, with a class dinner at a fancy restaurant (‘ik kan jullie vanaf het toilet horen’), pints in ‘rock and rolla’ and a few games of pool to top off another enjoyable evening.

Walking to the bus station the subsequent day everyone agreed that Kaunas had been a wonderful destination but that no-one was likely to ever return. Except for me. ‘Jij bent hier morgen gewoon weer he.’ At least my awkward itinerary (Dublin-Vilnius-Kaunas-Vilnius-Kaunas-Dublin) was a source of entertainment to Minke, and I found consolidation in the variety of Lithuanian means of transport I got to enjoy because of it (we travelled to Vilnius on a small, warm sweaty minibus instead of the cheaper state-of-the-art train that had taken me to Kaunas on Friday).

Apart from the pathetic service we were treated at ‘Crepes’, Vilnius was a pleasant surprise. We strolled the medieval streets, checked out a dozen Vero Coffees, tried some ghastly traditional liquors before returning to our cherished honey liquor, took in the pretty view from the top of the tower in the centre of town until Minke made us leave, had another great value dinner (‘gaat die boom door beneden?’) and took on any excuse to pat super sweet Labradors (‘do you happen to know where we can get this traditional honey liquor?’). The last hours were spent in a cosy pub with cute waitresses, where all we did was chat and enjoying the company of friends. Minke, Bob, Roelant, Manon, Iris and Quin; thanks for a lovely weekend!

'Het is echt een goede vrijdag'
'Niemand heeft gezegd dat het leuk zou zijn'
Manon: 'Ohja, er is een uitzichtspunt op het dak van die kerk, maar dat was ik vergeten'
Quin: 'Ik heb mn badpak bij me. Ik dacht dat we naar Portugal gingen'