A great tradition that Dasha and her closest friends have is the opening and closing of ‘the season’, meaning the summer, fun, outside entertainment, light nights and so forth. This ceremony is performed by buying some take away beers, sitting on a park bench outside one of their apartment blocks and drinking like bums. Brilliant. Let me now show off my Russian speaking abilities. Curly in Russian is Kucheryavui, which is what everyone calls me. A synonym is Kudravij. On this night, after a couple of drinks, we went to the shop to buy some more. While I was standing at the counter waiting to be served, another customer came up to me and started talking in Russian. Of course I stood there with a stupid look on my face not understanding a word, other than Kudravij. What the guy was actually saying was something along the lines of “Hey, you’re Kudravij! I love your work man. You lectured to me in art class and it was excellent. You’re so cool. You’re the best. I wish I had Curly hair. If I was a woman I would want to have your babies”. Maybe I’ve exaggerated a little, but he was pretty excited to see me, then utterly disappointed to find that I couldn’t paint my toenails.

One fine morning, about 6am if I remember correctly, I was awoken by Dasha’s Dad (Papa) who was ready and excited for our mission for the morning. We were staying at the summer house while Dasha was in the city taking care of business. It was time to go mushrooming. Along with one of Papa’s friends we headed to the woods and the hunting began. It really was cool to experience it exactly as the locals participate in it. The reason for getting up early is so that you beat all of the other people, and, sure enough, as the morning went on we would see more and more cars on the side of the road trying out their luck in their own patch of woods. The variety of mushrooms and the different levels of excitement that accompanies each is something that can’t be learnt in one morning. I was expecting to go for just an hour or two, but think it was closer to 6. We must have visited about 6 or 8 different areas, and I also got to see a snake (not the scariest looking), frog and caterpillar. The sun shining through the trees in the early morning was very nice, but I think the nicest thing was Mama’s cooking at lunch time!

One of Dasha’s close friends Nastya was getting married to her Spanish fella Sergei. Dasha was the photographer for the wedding, I was the drunken idiot. It was a private ceremony and small reception in the backyard at Nastya’s parents summer house, just around the corner from Dasha’s. It was a nice quiet wedding, with more food than necessary, especially shashliks (refer to Dasha’s birthday for description) and chorizo. I think I was the only one drinking beer, everyone else on the vodkas.

Our last night we went out for dinner to a nice Japanese restaurant with Dasha’s parents. The next day Mama drove us to the airport and it was of course a sad goodbye, for an undetermined length of time.And here’s the happy story to end tonights report. In the last couple of days before we left, we visited Lena for her birthday, and Dennis bought her…. a puppy!

So since Curly buggered off to France or elsewhere, me and my 3 other friends Julie, Ksusha and Katia decided it’s time to explore some local Latvian beauties that people tend to postpone for later and go to Egypt or Turkey for vacation instead. We got a car from Julie’s grandmother, which shared the age with her, but nevertheless was serving us really well and headed towards the coast in desire to escape the 35 degree heat in the city.

Girl and volkswagen beetle power brought us in 3 or more hours to Kolka, which is a point where sea waters meet bay water and waves smashing into each other create nice patterns on the surface. It took us a bit longer to get there, since we couldn’t resist stopping here and there for a picture and here and there at the villages to get some locally smoked fish. So by the time we actually got there, contemplating on the refreshing swim in the blue waters of the Baltic sea and fish picnic on the sand, the weather had swung around and changed from 30 to about 23 with rain and wind and a typically grey sky. However, it didn’t get our spirits down, nor our appetite, so skipping on the swim we tore fish apart in and devoured it in 15 minutes.

Continuing on the road in search of free or very cheap camping we got to one of many camp sites with a price list written in English letters and numbers. Turning around in disappointment we almost ran into a guy on a bicycle who turned out to be the owner of the place. After 10 min cheeky bargaining performed by our cunning lady Julie, we agreed to stay at the place for 10 lats per night, for all of us including our little beetle car.

The place was a 3 min walk through the forest and dunes to the magnificent secluded beach. It had showers and a big pond with lilies right in the middle of the camp site, which might make it a little difficult for drinking visitors walking around at night… Nevertheless we pent a lovely evening and crawled into our 2 person tent for a good snuggly sleep. The next morning to make the day more interesting and entertain ourselves in the sad grey weather we put our pretty dresses on and strolled down to the beach for a photo session.

Julie (aka pulemetchitsa); it would never be possible to make a trip without her, since she is the one who you call the glue or magnet of our team. She brings us together. Also without her cheeky bargaining and wit it would never be as easy and good as it was. The other qualities of character of this independent and strong (lol) woman I will list elsewhere or I will run out of space here.

Katia (aka salfetnica); without her jokes, temperament and skills to notice second hand shops it would never be the same either.

Ksusha (aka kluchica); the laughter and positive attitude to life of this gorgeous lady is irreplaceable and fills one’s life with joy and laid back carelessness.

And me! (aka visstulbaka)

Looking at this pictures now, being thousands of miles away from home and from them makes my heart shutter and miss them enormously. I feel eternally happy, grateful and privileged to have such people that I can call my friends.

Enough of the sentimental stuff! Back on the road – we packed and went along with the rain to Ventspils. It’s a neat and pretty city, which met us with sunshine and crowds walking down town. Surprisingly we arrived just in time to witness and be part of a big celebration. Ventspils made an attempt to build the longest flower road and get into the Guinness World records. WTF? yes, i know people do strange things in Latvia. A great opportunity to walk around in our pretty dresses and have a cold beer while listening to live music on the big stage. The love to raid second hand shops and wear each others clothes made this trip epic dress up week. More so when we went to a local crafts shop where they had old times dresses and costumes, which you can put on and have a photo session, pretending to be a descent lady or gentlemen from “back then”. Normally the shop charges money for photographers services, but as I was there as a pretend one, we did it for a donation. The shop itself is an awesome place, where you can find all locally made crafts and arts. Beautiful “real” things, although not always affordable for a simple backpacker traveler.

Not wishing to pay any more extra money for camping sites we found a park near sand dunes on the outskirts of Ventspils and put our tent out near the wood, which actually was right next to the official camp site. Losers! Feeling the vibe and while being still in the company of Katia, who was leaving back to Riga the next day, we decided it’s time for our treasure to be buried. In our childhood, when each of us went to kindergarden, we used to bury our treasures and put a piece of glass over them, so that next year we could dig ’em up and look at them through the glass. So we gathered all our treasures and wishes and buried them and put a flower on top to symbolise our flowering lives and friendships. The plan is to come back in 5/10 years dig it up and see if our wishes came true.

After we put Katia on the bus to go back to Riga, we continued on to Jurkalne, where very high dunes meet the beach and Baltic sea. After having few red bulls, a quiet evening on the coast turned into hysterical laughter and silliness, as it does. Out of Jurkalne looking for a place to pitch our tent was a mission. Each and every track we drove down was private property, which is illegal to stay on and fines are big. Going past a half burnt half broken stone building we all thought, ‘that looks weird’. A quick turn in the middle of the highway and we were there:

This place was absolutely magnificent. There wasn’t a building, just a big green field and a dramatic coastal drop to the beach, but it had wooden swings, a fireplace and… an old shack full of hay and an old parachute. The owner said we were most welcome to sleep on it which we did. The place had a magical feel and nice atmosphere to it, so after negotiating with the owner we stayed there for 5 lats!!! That was a highlight of the trip and a shame Katia wasn’t there to share the warmth of the fire and cheeky vodka shot to go along with improvised dinner. The full moon kept us company along with a big nasty storm that went past above the sea in front of us.  Night was spent in an aromatic hay shed. We got up very early and very quickly, thanks to a massive dog that came in the shed in the morning to sniff around us, also Ksusha got bitten by some sort of insect and got a fat lip disease from it :). The dog was friendly, but a little too friendly, wink wink,  so we had to chase him away and failing that we hid in the car to wait for him to go. When it was safe we arranged our mats on the juicy grass for some yoga. It was blissful and absolutely stunning to watch the sun coming out lighting up the grassy paddock and the dew on leaves shining like millions of pearls accidentally dropped here and there in the field. It was a good and early start to the day.

Back on the road to Liepaja. We made it there just in time to see the left overs of a massive music festival that was on all weekend, while we were quietly enjoying Latvian nature. We strolled around the grey hung over city for a little and then moved on away from it to the picturesque area about 20 min drive down towards Lithuania. It was another free camp for us in dunes and 2 min walk to the beach, where we, as usual, had a picnic. Waking up at 6, I enjoyed a not as spectacular sunrise as the day before and went back to cuddle up with the girls for more sleep. The decision was made to get back home to Riga and we took off from Liepaja stopping on the way at some wheat fields to take pictures.

That was an amazing time for me and i am looking forward to the next one, whenever it might happen, 5 years or 10 later.

More pictures here.

Zhenya flew with me to Riga, so Dasha’s actual birthday consisted of a romantic stroll around the city, row boat down the canal and dinner for 3. But the party itself was the next day… and the next day and the next day, with a dozen or more closest friends and a heap of shashliks (meat skewers) helping the celebrations along. The theme for the party was Hippies versus Gypsies, and no surprises the Gypsies won. It was still hilarious watching a hippie join in a game of beach volleyball with some randoms.

Jozza was also flying out on the Friday night for the occasion, but due to a train breaking down missed his flight and had to catch the same flight the next day at a considerable expense. The Friday night was not that memorable for myself and Zhenya anyway, because our new best friend Schwarzhog took advantage of our fond relationship. Saturday was more of the same, beach, swimming pool, eating and drinking.

After a long night we welcomed in the new day, especially the clouds, every one of which looked like something; a mushroom, a map of Latvia, a giant chicken, a puppy; the photos may suggest otherwise. Drifted off for a couple of hours to be woken up for lunch, which, of course, included a few shots of vodka. The day progressed and we headed in to Riga for a night out. Dasha hadn’t slept at all the night before, so to make it to 3 am was a pretty good effort. The biggest problem was that the only place open at that time on a Sunday night was an Irish Bar (read pub full of English tossers). Jozza wandered off by himself to find his beloved bar Leningrad, which closes when the last customer leaves, about 6am on this instance I believe. After trying to sleep in the park the police told Jozza to move on, which I guess was the official end to Dasha’s birthday.

Time to farewell Russia. It has been quite an amazing journey. And I highly rate both Lake Baikal, Lake Teletskoe (shame we didn’t get to explore the Altai Mountains a bit more), Moscow and Saint Petersburg. So time to do what we do best, catch another train. This train, or at least our carriage, was a different class to previous, Obshiy, which is one lower than Platzkart. This means that a bench seat is allocated to 3 people, and the bed above is a first in best slept arrangement. Of course that wasn’t us. So the 2 of us had to sleep sitting up. Worst night on a train ever! I highly recommend avoiding that class if you plan on travelling Russia or anywhere near.

We arrived in Riga and caught a local train out to Skulte. From there it was a 3 km hike with all of our bags to Dasha’s parents dacha (summer house), to make the big surprise for Mama’s birthday. After the excitement settled down, it was a couple of relaxing days enjoying sunshine in the backyard or at the beach. I think the hardest decision I had to make was what to drink next!

Off to midsummer’s camp, where it all began. Yes, 3 years ago, Dasha and I met at Baiba’s camp with 100 couch surfers drinking beer, eating cheese, jumping fires and searching for the flower of a fern which only flowers on the shortest night of the year. Well, this year we were back to the same camp to do it all again. All was going well, with traditional dancing (which was absolutely hilarious and fun), jewellery making for the boys, chocolate/coffee/honey massages, saunas and swimming and of course beer drinking.

On the second day, I went off with Elf boy and his little brother to collect the firewood. These Latvians really know how to stack a bonfire. It’s a full on balancing act to make the longest pieces point as high into the air as possible in almost a tee-pee type arrangement, unlike the traditional Australian way we all know of “just chuck ‘er on mate.” As the fire burnt down somewhat it was time for the jumping to begin. I think I may have been the first, followed in third place by Dasha. And this is when tragedy struck! Who would have thought jumping a fire after drinking could ever go wrong? Certainly the unsympathetic doctors a little later. The jump was fine… it was the landing that was the problem. As she collapsed to the ground there was a few quiet chuckles of “haha, she fell over,” but as she stayed on the ground we realised it was a little more serious. Dasha has actually broken this leg twice before. Seeing the swelling that came up instantly I thought it was broken for sure. An ambulance was only going to take us to the local hospital, where they could apparently do very little anyway, so Baiba’s dad offered to drive us to a hospital in Riga. My mind was on a single focus – get Dasha to a hospital – which was slightly tricky because she didn’t want to go. Didn’t take too much convincing though. Julie, on the other hand, was much smarter and packed an overnight bag for Dasha. Baiba’s dad dropped us off at the hospital, where I assumed we would spend the night. They took an x-ray, which cost about 10 bucks, told her it wasn’t broken, to stay off it for a week or two and sent us on our way. The problem, we now realised, was that in the panic to get to the hospital, we hadn’t got the keys for the house out of our tent. Being midsummer’s, it was very likely that no one would be home. We jumped in a cab to home, yelled from the street to the window above (this is the most commonly used intercom system) and sure enough the house was empty. So back in the taxi to try to find a hostel at 3.30 in the morning. Surprisingly, we were lucky. The first place I walked into a woman answered the door bell and had a private room for us to stay in. When she saw that I had to carry Dasha she was sympathetic enough to ignore the check out times the next day. I had to catch a bus back out to Baiba’s, pack up our tent and most  importantly come back with the keys. Ended up hitch hiking back to Riga while waiting for the infrequent bus service. The journey took me about 5 hours, while Dasha was lying in pain in the hostel by herself, unable to move. This pain was to last a whole lot longer than our friendly doctor had suggested. Very frustrating times for Dasha. She was unable to do all of the things she had planned to do whilst in Riga – Walking/cycling around the beautiful city, salsa dancing, disco dancing, swimming. What’s the best thing for Curly to do? Run away!