Hello! Coming to you from Lithuania, home of Arvydis Sabonis. Woah! Things have been crazy since leaving St. Petersburg, so I'm going to jump right into some stories. I will update this soon with some photos, but for now you get the words. Warning: it's a lot of words and I did not edit it.
Houston Can You Hear Me?
I said goodby to Russia and my wonderful couchsurfer on the first of July as I nearly missed my train out of St. Petersburg. I was able to run down the train station in bare feet because my sandals were slowing me down. I was wearing sandals because it was raining real hard and I don't like having wet socks. So then I wasn't wearing sandals or wet socks but I was chasing the train in my bare feet.
The train was really nice, wifi and four seats with a table in between (I only got one seat, but that was plenty). I was looking forward to a quiet train ride and a few days rolling solo to regroup for the next leg of the trip. And everything was going that way for the first few hours of the five hour trip. There were two gentlemen at the table across the aisle from mine who were having a fine time with a bottle of cognac and a lot of some new language that was not Russian. When they got the bottom of the first bottle they waved me away from my musical reverie and asked to open my window, as theirs was stuck.
Relaxing train ride: over.
Aleksander and Valentin. Big A a shy 27 year old Finnish man with an Estonian passport who spends a lot of time in Russia, and Big V a not shy 40 something Estonian with a hilarious grasp of the English language (Houston can you hear me?). They were both big boys and they both really liked cognac. I helped them polish off the very end of the first bottle, and figured we'd have a nice chat and I'd go back to reading. They were out of booze anyways, so I wasn't getting into a long thing. Wrong! Immediately a full bottle of cognac replaced the empty and more short shots were being poured. We talked about work and life and the Soviet Union and Estonia and all the while more short shots were appearing in front of me. The second bottle was hardly done before a third one replaced it. Next thing I know Aleksander is singing Stevie Wonder songs and I have my iPod out, learning the chords at Valentin's insistence, and then we're all singing "I just called to say 'I love you'" on the train. It was tough to scroll the iPod or remember the verses, so we just sang the chorus over and over while the guys called their girlfriends and held up the phone. Estonia!
A box full of bottles of vodka appeared before us as the train was pulling into Tallinn. Aleksander had bought them tax free and was now giving me one. I protested, he insisted, I relented and thanked him as only a drunk American can to such a beautiful act of kindness from a new friend on a train. As I was trying to figure out how to get to my hostel Valentin laughed at me and said simply that I would stay with him. I said goodbye to Aleksander, who then got on the phone and strolled a few paces away. As I continued to try and figure out where I was and where my hostel would be tomorrow Valentin grabbed one of the bottles of vodka and called to Aleksander like a homie who knows it's cool to take a bottle of vodka from a good friend who has five. Aleksander waved him an "all good" and we were off. A short cab ride later and Valentin and I are at his pad, now drinking vodka short shots and laughing and watching the Tour de France. He calls all his friends and invites them over and I'm pretty sure they all tell him "It's midnight Sunday what are you calling me for you big drunken fool?" So we hang out for a bit longer, but soon I'm laid out on the couch in a beautiful sleep.
I woke up near one the next day and didn't feel great. Valentin made me up some true Russian soup (Estonia's cuisine is not vast, so they borrow), which had great ingredients, but the base of it is kvass, which is like a soda with a little bit of alcohol. So it's fizzy and bitter and probably the last thing I wanted in the morning after last night. But I did my best and we had a chat and then it was time for me to go. As I'm packing my things before he drops me off at the hostel Valentin hands me the half bottle of vodka. I protest and he shakes his head and says "I don't drink hard alcohol."
13000 Voices (now with pictures)
I arrive in Riga, Latvia on the afternoon of the fourth of July and soon find myself out to dinner with a nice Moroccan man from France. He's been in town a few days and says he knows a good place to eat so I go along. He takes us less than a block from the hostel to a place called "The Funny Fox" which serves hamburgers and has three waitresses outside holding American flags. I'm preoccupied with a mishap I've just had with the atm and don't mind going to cheesy tourist restaurants every now and then if the situation is right. And the 4th of July seems like the right situation to me, so I joke with the flag holders, order a fish sandwich and set up on the side of a nice street in old town Riga.
At the next table are three guys, one of whom has a guitar and is playing songs but doesn't know the words to any. I strike up a chat and he plays parts of a lot of songs and we laugh. They are Latvian and apparently LOVE the NBA. In my mind I hear Marv Albert exclaim "Yes!" Kris, Karlis, and Kris are nice guys and we talk for about an hour before Kris and Kris have to go. Karlis and I go to another bar with an Aussie and two Minnesotans and it's a fine night but nothing spectacular and we say goodbye with the promise that I would get a sim card and call him the next day to meet up so I could dunk on him a few times.
The next day I eventually find a sim card after strolling through some beautiful old streets and a great market where you can buy way too many strawberries for very few Lats. I send out the word and sit down to read in a park. The Aussie, Haley, from the night before appears with a walking tour and we end up going to another park where a Swedish guy is doing some traditional "Yoiking" as it begins to pour down rain. We watch from under a covered area as he talked about herding reindeer before Yoiking a song which is supposed to be about what he just explained. It was cool, though I could have done without the modernized version of it, which included some hilarious electric guitar solos in the middle of every Yoik. Kids these days with their gee-tars!
Anyways, I said goodbye and went to meet up with Karlis, who earlier had said he was unfazed by the rain. However, when I met up with him and the streets were absolutely soaked he admitted that today was probably not the day for basketball. We get a coffee and play some chess and at this point the rain has stopped so he brings me on his own little walking tour. We end up by the river to drink a beer and he tells me about walking 38k to the coast with his friends just for the heck of it. Images of Pat Kenny fill my brain and I know I've found a good friend in Latvia.
We meet back up with Haley and the couchsurfer I will be staying with that night, Walters. He's a tall guy with a face like 90s Hercules who sounds just like you might think a Latvian would sound and he's alright with hanging out with us for a few beers even though he's driving and cannot drink. We end up at a super hip bar with dozens of bikes locked up everywhere and some very nice beers on tap. Karlis's girlfriend, Katerina, shows up after her rehearsal to have one beer? Rehearsal? For what?
Now, up to this point this point this story has been admittedly mundane. I mean Yoiking is cool and meeting three guys from Latvia in a bar is fun and all but come on, it's not a story fit for your precious internet time. The idea here is to give a sense of how much time I spent in Riga before having this conversation. Well over 24 hours, with many interactions with hostel staff, locals, other travelers, not to mention walking around the city at length. What is this rehearsal that Katerina is coming back from? Oh, it's this thing that happens every four years in Latvia where 13,000 people dressed in traditional outfits perform old Latvian songs for about 40,000 more people in this epic amphitheater in the middle of the forest. Oh, okay, WHAT?!
Holy smokes, brigadiers, did I pick the right weekend between August 2009 and July 2017 to come to Riga or what? Jeezus, I've just spent the last two evenings with a guy whose GIRLFRIEND IS IN THE PERFORMANCE and he didn't mention a word of it. He was quite sheepish about this and grinned and blushed as I loudly and friendily scolded him for many minutes. The concert is Sunday, what to do on Saturday then? I don't care, I'm going to this concert Sunday though.
Haley and Walters are getting along great (not like THAT, okay.) and so she joins us back to his place, which is about 20 minutes outside of Riga. We play a little guitar and joke around and then it's off to bed, or in my case, couch. On Saturday Walters brings us out to the coast where we walk on rocks next to a water treatment plant which smells really bad but reminds me of driving into Sioux City from Lincoln and so also has a funny nostalgic effect on me. I explain this to Walters and he takes my photo, which you will be able to see when I update this post with photos.
He also tells me a story about how the other week for fun he walked 30 kilometers along the beach, pointing to distant, barely visible beaches on either side of us. I'm now convinced Latvians are crazy in the best possible way. From there we pick a few blueberries in the forest and then go to another beach not next to a sewer-y smell and Walters and I swim in the Gulf of Riga. Then to the nearby town Jermala, which translates literally to Seaside, and take in some music at the street festival going on because obviously there is a street festival going on that day because, you know, Latvia loves me and I love Latvia.
On Sunday we take in a bit of the parade in the morning, which consists of all 13,000 performers walking a short stretch through old town, waving and laughing, sometimes dancing, sometimes singing. A photographer on rollerblades glides through the marchers and I can NEVER get a good action photo of all the awesome rollerbladers I see in this world. Man have there been some good ones on this trip, too.
I have a date with destiny, so I say farewell to Haley and Walters and meet up with Karlis and his friend, Dave Misbehave (actual name in Karlis's phone of this guy) to play some ball. The Krises are scared and hungover (in that order) so they don't show up, but at this point Karlis is my main man so there are no worries. I learn great new rules to 21 and then we play a bunch of games of one on one to two (that's right, to two) and it's really fun. The home of Andris Biedrins (hi Gabe!) produces some fine players, I must say.
Sweaty and feeling great, Karlis and I say goodbye to Mr. Misbehave and set out to see this concert. We don't have tickets and they sold out within three hours of going on sale so we're determined to scalp them. Haley joins us and after a tram ride and an ice cream we are set up with our sign in the middle of the road running through the mighty Forest Park of Riga (I can't remember the Latvian name, but it translates literally to Forest Park). People are laughing at us, especially when we say we want to spend 10 Lats (about $20) and look at us like we're nuts. An Aussie couple scalping next to us pay 40 lats for the girl to have one ticket, leaving the guy to try and buy another one. Poor form, Aussies, in so many ways! The hour draws near and we hold our ground. In my mind I say to Latvia "Don't leave me out in the cold, Latvia!" And in my mind Latvia responds, "Of course not, baby. I gotchoo." as a woman and her two children approach us, speak to Karlis for like 10 seconds, and we all hand her 10 Lats. Booyah!
Okay, here is the part of the story which can only fall short of describing what happened (unlike the other parts, in which you really felt like you were with me at the beach on the rocks. This is top-notch literature!!!!), but I can best describe the entire experience as.... suffocating? That is definitely not right, though I often forgot to breathe... religious? Maybe, it was emotionally draining, though I definitely felt a spectator rather than one with the people around me in a way I would think of as religious... awe-inspiring? Okay, we'll go with that because this vocabulary exercise has run its course. It's 13,000 people on a stage in the forest singing! It's fucking awesome!
There are three sets, with the first being primarily while the sun was still out, the second having much more instrumentation and dancing during the sunset and early night, and the third being the full shebang of lighting, supersongs, and encore after encore. The way the show works is that for each song a new conductor will come on stage to lead the song. Each conductor has between one and three songs throughout the night, but if the choir really likes a conductor or a particular song they will cheer for an immediate encore. There are maybe a dozen songs that they sing twice in a row, I feel like I'm at a party and drunk people keep playing back the iPod when their jam comes on and they've missed it because they were outside smoking but they just have to dance to their jam. Only it's way cooler, because I'm listening to 13,000 costumed Latvian's jam, and they are entirely present for both times the song plays, and the conductor's are always pumped that they have been cheered to an encore, so they flail their arms and punch the air with even more gusto the second time.
Sometimes I watch either of the two big screens on the side, showing different faces and great shots of the conductors rocking out, and sometimes I stare at the entire lot of them, which was difficult to do, as it is a bit overwhelming. Finally around one in the morning they say (in Latvian, translated by Karlis), "Enjoy this song, it's the last one for four years" and they proceed to sing this intense song that ends a lot of lines with "Latvia" and people are crying and the entire crowd is standing and the choir is louder than it has been all night and I try to hold on to the moment and take in as much as I can and I know it will be over and I won't be able to repeat it ever again maybe and then it ends and I exhale and feel like I'd experienced something amazing. Then the choir starts chanting and they sing it again! Hahahaha!
Then they sing the Latvian national anthem, for which there is no encore, and I figure it's time to hit the road. Oh no no, not yet. Karlis explains that it's just starting (6 hours after it started) and now they start selling beer again (they stop during the show) and everyone will sing and dance down near the stage. Oh, really?
So we stomp and we jump and we hold hands and run through the crowd on the snake that's always getting bigger, and we stand in a circle and hold hands and move in and out and round and round, and we skip in a circle with arms locked and they have the karaoke words on the screen as famous Latvians sing into the mic and I sound out the words best I can even though I don't know the melody sometimes. This goes on until 5, at which point the sun is well up and the people are saying they are closing it down. But the screen just stops showing the karaoke words and the band keeps playing and people keep singing and dancing for another hour until the band is finally tired and Karlis, Katerina, and I decide that maybe it's finally time to go home.
I manage to stay awake on the train back to Walters and collapse on his couch for a beautiful sleep.
To Lithuania By Thumbs
If you're still reading this, thank you. I cannot write about my hitch-hiking adventure with Walters to Vilnius right now because it's past my bed time. But I hitched to Lithuania with Walters and it was really fun and safe and maybe I'll add more details later, but that's the main part of it. Good night!
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| Updated! |
Houston Can You Hear Me?
I said goodby to Russia and my wonderful couchsurfer on the first of July as I nearly missed my train out of St. Petersburg. I was able to run down the train station in bare feet because my sandals were slowing me down. I was wearing sandals because it was raining real hard and I don't like having wet socks. So then I wasn't wearing sandals or wet socks but I was chasing the train in my bare feet.
The train was really nice, wifi and four seats with a table in between (I only got one seat, but that was plenty). I was looking forward to a quiet train ride and a few days rolling solo to regroup for the next leg of the trip. And everything was going that way for the first few hours of the five hour trip. There were two gentlemen at the table across the aisle from mine who were having a fine time with a bottle of cognac and a lot of some new language that was not Russian. When they got the bottom of the first bottle they waved me away from my musical reverie and asked to open my window, as theirs was stuck.
Relaxing train ride: over.
Aleksander and Valentin. Big A a shy 27 year old Finnish man with an Estonian passport who spends a lot of time in Russia, and Big V a not shy 40 something Estonian with a hilarious grasp of the English language (Houston can you hear me?). They were both big boys and they both really liked cognac. I helped them polish off the very end of the first bottle, and figured we'd have a nice chat and I'd go back to reading. They were out of booze anyways, so I wasn't getting into a long thing. Wrong! Immediately a full bottle of cognac replaced the empty and more short shots were being poured. We talked about work and life and the Soviet Union and Estonia and all the while more short shots were appearing in front of me. The second bottle was hardly done before a third one replaced it. Next thing I know Aleksander is singing Stevie Wonder songs and I have my iPod out, learning the chords at Valentin's insistence, and then we're all singing "I just called to say 'I love you'" on the train. It was tough to scroll the iPod or remember the verses, so we just sang the chorus over and over while the guys called their girlfriends and held up the phone. Estonia!
A box full of bottles of vodka appeared before us as the train was pulling into Tallinn. Aleksander had bought them tax free and was now giving me one. I protested, he insisted, I relented and thanked him as only a drunk American can to such a beautiful act of kindness from a new friend on a train. As I was trying to figure out how to get to my hostel Valentin laughed at me and said simply that I would stay with him. I said goodbye to Aleksander, who then got on the phone and strolled a few paces away. As I continued to try and figure out where I was and where my hostel would be tomorrow Valentin grabbed one of the bottles of vodka and called to Aleksander like a homie who knows it's cool to take a bottle of vodka from a good friend who has five. Aleksander waved him an "all good" and we were off. A short cab ride later and Valentin and I are at his pad, now drinking vodka short shots and laughing and watching the Tour de France. He calls all his friends and invites them over and I'm pretty sure they all tell him "It's midnight Sunday what are you calling me for you big drunken fool?" So we hang out for a bit longer, but soon I'm laid out on the couch in a beautiful sleep.
I woke up near one the next day and didn't feel great. Valentin made me up some true Russian soup (Estonia's cuisine is not vast, so they borrow), which had great ingredients, but the base of it is kvass, which is like a soda with a little bit of alcohol. So it's fizzy and bitter and probably the last thing I wanted in the morning after last night. But I did my best and we had a chat and then it was time for me to go. As I'm packing my things before he drops me off at the hostel Valentin hands me the half bottle of vodka. I protest and he shakes his head and says "I don't drink hard alcohol."
13000 Voices (now with pictures)
I arrive in Riga, Latvia on the afternoon of the fourth of July and soon find myself out to dinner with a nice Moroccan man from France. He's been in town a few days and says he knows a good place to eat so I go along. He takes us less than a block from the hostel to a place called "The Funny Fox" which serves hamburgers and has three waitresses outside holding American flags. I'm preoccupied with a mishap I've just had with the atm and don't mind going to cheesy tourist restaurants every now and then if the situation is right. And the 4th of July seems like the right situation to me, so I joke with the flag holders, order a fish sandwich and set up on the side of a nice street in old town Riga.
At the next table are three guys, one of whom has a guitar and is playing songs but doesn't know the words to any. I strike up a chat and he plays parts of a lot of songs and we laugh. They are Latvian and apparently LOVE the NBA. In my mind I hear Marv Albert exclaim "Yes!" Kris, Karlis, and Kris are nice guys and we talk for about an hour before Kris and Kris have to go. Karlis and I go to another bar with an Aussie and two Minnesotans and it's a fine night but nothing spectacular and we say goodbye with the promise that I would get a sim card and call him the next day to meet up so I could dunk on him a few times.
The next day I eventually find a sim card after strolling through some beautiful old streets and a great market where you can buy way too many strawberries for very few Lats. I send out the word and sit down to read in a park. The Aussie, Haley, from the night before appears with a walking tour and we end up going to another park where a Swedish guy is doing some traditional "Yoiking" as it begins to pour down rain. We watch from under a covered area as he talked about herding reindeer before Yoiking a song which is supposed to be about what he just explained. It was cool, though I could have done without the modernized version of it, which included some hilarious electric guitar solos in the middle of every Yoik. Kids these days with their gee-tars!
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| Yoiking |
Anyways, I said goodbye and went to meet up with Karlis, who earlier had said he was unfazed by the rain. However, when I met up with him and the streets were absolutely soaked he admitted that today was probably not the day for basketball. We get a coffee and play some chess and at this point the rain has stopped so he brings me on his own little walking tour. We end up by the river to drink a beer and he tells me about walking 38k to the coast with his friends just for the heck of it. Images of Pat Kenny fill my brain and I know I've found a good friend in Latvia.
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| Walking Tours! |
We meet back up with Haley and the couchsurfer I will be staying with that night, Walters. He's a tall guy with a face like 90s Hercules who sounds just like you might think a Latvian would sound and he's alright with hanging out with us for a few beers even though he's driving and cannot drink. We end up at a super hip bar with dozens of bikes locked up everywhere and some very nice beers on tap. Karlis's girlfriend, Katerina, shows up after her rehearsal to have one beer? Rehearsal? For what?
Now, up to this point this point this story has been admittedly mundane. I mean Yoiking is cool and meeting three guys from Latvia in a bar is fun and all but come on, it's not a story fit for your precious internet time. The idea here is to give a sense of how much time I spent in Riga before having this conversation. Well over 24 hours, with many interactions with hostel staff, locals, other travelers, not to mention walking around the city at length. What is this rehearsal that Katerina is coming back from? Oh, it's this thing that happens every four years in Latvia where 13,000 people dressed in traditional outfits perform old Latvian songs for about 40,000 more people in this epic amphitheater in the middle of the forest. Oh, okay, WHAT?!
Holy smokes, brigadiers, did I pick the right weekend between August 2009 and July 2017 to come to Riga or what? Jeezus, I've just spent the last two evenings with a guy whose GIRLFRIEND IS IN THE PERFORMANCE and he didn't mention a word of it. He was quite sheepish about this and grinned and blushed as I loudly and friendily scolded him for many minutes. The concert is Sunday, what to do on Saturday then? I don't care, I'm going to this concert Sunday though.
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| On the left is Katerina. She is Latvian. She sings. |
Haley and Walters are getting along great (not like THAT, okay.) and so she joins us back to his place, which is about 20 minutes outside of Riga. We play a little guitar and joke around and then it's off to bed, or in my case, couch. On Saturday Walters brings us out to the coast where we walk on rocks next to a water treatment plant which smells really bad but reminds me of driving into Sioux City from Lincoln and so also has a funny nostalgic effect on me. I explain this to Walters and he takes my photo, which you will be able to see when I update this post with photos.
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| UPDATE |
He also tells me a story about how the other week for fun he walked 30 kilometers along the beach, pointing to distant, barely visible beaches on either side of us. I'm now convinced Latvians are crazy in the best possible way. From there we pick a few blueberries in the forest and then go to another beach not next to a sewer-y smell and Walters and I swim in the Gulf of Riga. Then to the nearby town Jermala, which translates literally to Seaside, and take in some music at the street festival going on because obviously there is a street festival going on that day because, you know, Latvia loves me and I love Latvia.
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| Woah! Jermala is Awesome! |
On Sunday we take in a bit of the parade in the morning, which consists of all 13,000 performers walking a short stretch through old town, waving and laughing, sometimes dancing, sometimes singing. A photographer on rollerblades glides through the marchers and I can NEVER get a good action photo of all the awesome rollerbladers I see in this world. Man have there been some good ones on this trip, too.
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| Never! |
I have a date with destiny, so I say farewell to Haley and Walters and meet up with Karlis and his friend, Dave Misbehave (actual name in Karlis's phone of this guy) to play some ball. The Krises are scared and hungover (in that order) so they don't show up, but at this point Karlis is my main man so there are no worries. I learn great new rules to 21 and then we play a bunch of games of one on one to two (that's right, to two) and it's really fun. The home of Andris Biedrins (hi Gabe!) produces some fine players, I must say.
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| Dave Misbehave |
Sweaty and feeling great, Karlis and I say goodbye to Mr. Misbehave and set out to see this concert. We don't have tickets and they sold out within three hours of going on sale so we're determined to scalp them. Haley joins us and after a tram ride and an ice cream we are set up with our sign in the middle of the road running through the mighty Forest Park of Riga (I can't remember the Latvian name, but it translates literally to Forest Park). People are laughing at us, especially when we say we want to spend 10 Lats (about $20) and look at us like we're nuts. An Aussie couple scalping next to us pay 40 lats for the girl to have one ticket, leaving the guy to try and buy another one. Poor form, Aussies, in so many ways! The hour draws near and we hold our ground. In my mind I say to Latvia "Don't leave me out in the cold, Latvia!" And in my mind Latvia responds, "Of course not, baby. I gotchoo." as a woman and her two children approach us, speak to Karlis for like 10 seconds, and we all hand her 10 Lats. Booyah!
Okay, here is the part of the story which can only fall short of describing what happened (unlike the other parts, in which you really felt like you were with me at the beach on the rocks. This is top-notch literature!!!!), but I can best describe the entire experience as.... suffocating? That is definitely not right, though I often forgot to breathe... religious? Maybe, it was emotionally draining, though I definitely felt a spectator rather than one with the people around me in a way I would think of as religious... awe-inspiring? Okay, we'll go with that because this vocabulary exercise has run its course. It's 13,000 people on a stage in the forest singing! It's fucking awesome!
There are three sets, with the first being primarily while the sun was still out, the second having much more instrumentation and dancing during the sunset and early night, and the third being the full shebang of lighting, supersongs, and encore after encore. The way the show works is that for each song a new conductor will come on stage to lead the song. Each conductor has between one and three songs throughout the night, but if the choir really likes a conductor or a particular song they will cheer for an immediate encore. There are maybe a dozen songs that they sing twice in a row, I feel like I'm at a party and drunk people keep playing back the iPod when their jam comes on and they've missed it because they were outside smoking but they just have to dance to their jam. Only it's way cooler, because I'm listening to 13,000 costumed Latvian's jam, and they are entirely present for both times the song plays, and the conductor's are always pumped that they have been cheered to an encore, so they flail their arms and punch the air with even more gusto the second time.
Sometimes I watch either of the two big screens on the side, showing different faces and great shots of the conductors rocking out, and sometimes I stare at the entire lot of them, which was difficult to do, as it is a bit overwhelming. Finally around one in the morning they say (in Latvian, translated by Karlis), "Enjoy this song, it's the last one for four years" and they proceed to sing this intense song that ends a lot of lines with "Latvia" and people are crying and the entire crowd is standing and the choir is louder than it has been all night and I try to hold on to the moment and take in as much as I can and I know it will be over and I won't be able to repeat it ever again maybe and then it ends and I exhale and feel like I'd experienced something amazing. Then the choir starts chanting and they sing it again! Hahahaha!
Then they sing the Latvian national anthem, for which there is no encore, and I figure it's time to hit the road. Oh no no, not yet. Karlis explains that it's just starting (6 hours after it started) and now they start selling beer again (they stop during the show) and everyone will sing and dance down near the stage. Oh, really?
So we stomp and we jump and we hold hands and run through the crowd on the snake that's always getting bigger, and we stand in a circle and hold hands and move in and out and round and round, and we skip in a circle with arms locked and they have the karaoke words on the screen as famous Latvians sing into the mic and I sound out the words best I can even though I don't know the melody sometimes. This goes on until 5, at which point the sun is well up and the people are saying they are closing it down. But the screen just stops showing the karaoke words and the band keeps playing and people keep singing and dancing for another hour until the band is finally tired and Karlis, Katerina, and I decide that maybe it's finally time to go home.
I manage to stay awake on the train back to Walters and collapse on his couch for a beautiful sleep.
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| 6am and the party's still rocking |
To Lithuania By Thumbs
If you're still reading this, thank you. I cannot write about my hitch-hiking adventure with Walters to Vilnius right now because it's past my bed time. But I hitched to Lithuania with Walters and it was really fun and safe and maybe I'll add more details later, but that's the main part of it. Good night!
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| We soon made the sign much better. |
Oh my...! I definitely know what I'll be doing July 2017 :)
ReplyDeleteDamn you Kass. Can't you just go home and get a job and be miserable. You're torturing me.
ReplyDeleteGreat stories. I wish I was there.
Awe some.
ReplyDelete