View from the weekend..

Bumpy. Undulating? Definitely not smooth, anyway.

A friend had a bad fall and broke his hip; instant mayhem for the family. I hope he'll heal fast, completely and with added wisdom. Nasty events always have this potential!

My darling M has been very down today, after spending yesterday being wonderfully energetic and keeping ME going. He woke in the night saying he was feeling his age. Poor man. We decided that this meant today was an Official Sunday, thereby throwing all expectations to the winds and letting ourselves blob around, eat funny things at funny times, indulge each other, and play with the cats. The highlight of the day was watching a dvd of Claudio Abbado conducting the Berlin Phil in a lavishly gorgeous theatre in Sorrento. A wonderful purrformance of Dvorak's 'New World Symphony', with some rather pretentious doco-style ramblings about supposed influences on his composition. But the purrformance was masterful, and very well filmed. We enjoyed it very much, as we quietly removed a few more bits of fur-lump from Maccy, snorted our evening drinks down with posh chocolate, and tried very hard to get Wendy to come in from a storm. She turned up well after it was over, looking very pleased with herself. And very wet!

We've reconstructed my workroom as a spare bedroom (ie put a bed in there again), and M is now sacked out, safely tucked in away from my nocturnal/insomniac interruptions. I'm happily up the other end of the house (there's a lot to be said for long, rectangular houses), playing the Corrs, typing, arranging my 'art' teatowels on the bed (I can feel some hanging up coming on tomorrow), contemplating the Ikea delivery next weekend, thinking of sofa-hunting tomorrow, and considering the effect of a cheese sandwich before sleepytime. Trouble is, I want a cheese sandwich with LOTS of butter, and I'm sure my doc would shudder and point to my latest cholesterol level results. Dang.

I haven't made much of a start on this year yet, except to throw out the prescriptions from 2007 which are definitively out of date. I'm not trying for a resolution, cos I aint got any. Even moderate attempts at willpower are largely a failure. Going with the flow is easier, except I don't flow much, I'm more of a stasis girl. Oh well. There are some fun projects I could start on, easily completed, which would be satisfying. Like putting a hanging pocket on a sequinned and embroidered cloth, to hang behind our bed. Finishing putting polar fleece along the edge of our bedspread so the fringe doesn't tickle our noses. Sewing ditto to mum's HYOOG knitted blanky which is going to Germany to adorn the bed of my eldest niece. This one will have to be handsewn, and with temperatures aiming for 37 later this week, I'm not looking forward to having it in my lap! I might have to do a deal with the ironing board.. it can take the bulk and the weight, while I fiddle with the edge. We'll see. It might be one of those things which is massively attractive to the attentions of a cat. A cat which might think it's great fun to 'help'.

.... I should get my wobbly ass back to gym. And off to the pool for wading, which, dear readers, is THE exercise invented to fix your tight lower back. Goes like this: hop into the medium pool at Dickson, the one which is only 1.5m at the deepest end, is under shade-cloth, and is big enough to stride around. Stride around. Do this until you feel like a coffee. Go and get one - they're rather good at the cafe there - and resume striding around with your coffee in one hand. Fabbo. You can do all this without getting your hair wet, your self sunburnt, or endangering your caffeine level. Close to purrfect as a form of exercise don't you think?

Alice the Garden came today (delayed from last Tuesday when it was too hot). She does miracles every time. Today she put in the three large iceberg roses I was given before christmas. I've been keeping them alive in plastic bags... I hope they'll all thrive. We're happily planting prickly things all along part of our front fence, because late last year someone walking along there broke off most of my fruit tree saplings. Much grief, especially for the persimmon tree which was leaping towards the sun and looking very happy. Now it's only 2 feet tall. A nice thick row of high and rambling roses; boysenberries, raspberries, spiky grevilleas and anything else I can think of to add to the deterrent mix; a year or so of growing, and my trees will be quite safe. AND I hope all this will outgrow the bloody vinca, which is big fat nuisance all along the fence-line. As bad as ivy.

Alice's visits always leave me with lots of things to do in her wake. I can't dig the holes or cart the heavy bags of stuff around. But I'm a gun Seasol-er; I can plant wee things into the softer soil; and I can plan, oh how I can plan! I have many natives to go in, and my sis busy growing more from seed, the clever thing. When all my hakeas finally fall over, I'll have Canberra grown and hardened replacements all strong and healthy. Nice. I'll also have a very eclectic garden full of cape daisies and mint bush and boobialla and blue fescue and lavender and agapanthus and pigface and geraniums and seaside daisy... I think there's only one environmental weed in that list! I'll check... I've spent 10 years removing masses of the top ten enviro-weeds which were all rampant in this old garden. The huge piles of privet, honeysuckle, ivy, cotoneaster, vinca, wandering jew, ... well that's 6 out of 10. I know I had ten but it's too late to look up details. Trust me!

And now I see it is tomorrow and that cheese sammo is looking better and better. I guess I could go easy on the butter and add a bit of mustard... I will certainly be adding purrfume to the nocturnal mix. I have some Mugler 'Angel' which needs opening. The one I've been using in the last week is 'Lily Angel', a difference I didn't note until I saw bottles on display in a very dangerous shop in Manuka... a shop full of shiny things and discounted purrfume and beads and makeup and and and.. what with being under the influence of pancakes, being very relaxed, and knowing what was in my bank account, I had no chance did I?

Please send bone-knitting, garden-growing, headache-dispelling and sense-of-smell-in-full-opurrational-order vibes. They will all go to good homes. Send some dorter-patting too while you're at it, pats are always useful on dorters. Especially darling ones like mine.

Krakow, Tuesday 9th September; futzing around..

I've been trying to work out some improvements to my blog, like how to put a 'fold' into each post; and how to add photos, and that. Not very successfully as you can see!

I guess I could investigate the blogspot list of goodies and see if I understands it a bit betterer.. anyone who cares to write in with suggestions for brain-dead travelling blog-dags is most welcome.

So, what we up to? M is still suffering ennui and self-shoulda/coulda/oughta wrangles. I am not so down, but SO tired.. we got up for brekkie after I'd had a good 9 hours of sleep, and afterwards I lay down and went out like a light for another 2 hours.. weird. Even for me this is kinda long. Cuts into the day of prospective touristing too.

We both have a strong sense of relief that tomorrow we travel (by train) to Berlin. A return to Western life! M speaks fluent German, so negotiating the city, the usual shopping/banking/posting/Netting details, and making our eccentric way through the days, should be much easier. I know that lotsa lotsa people don't speak English, but I'm getting a bit distressed by the 'blank face/don't wanna know' reaction from most people here. It's too much like Beijing, 10 years ago, especially the 'don't wanna know' part. In shopkeepers, waiters and the service industry in general, I don't understand the hostility - don't they want the money to keep in business? Me no get it. Me want peoples to be NICE to me. Foolish moi.

Two days ago we leapt up at the crack of breakfast and joined a group of about 10 people for a bus and walking tour of Krakow, the Old City. Our guide, the glamorous Caterina, was very good, explaining the significance and historical value of the places we visited - I particularly enjoyed seeing the remaining one synagogue still operating, and the old cemetary next door. Of course the two World Wars have had a huge influence on the city, both visually and culturally, and the markers are plain. As we saw in Riga (yes, yes, the Riga walking tour blog entry is coming) there are bullet holes, walls built from the rubble of previous structures, and restored and over-built sites of all kinds. One part of Krakow which I particularly enjoy is the parkland which encircles the Old City - it used to be the moat with a huge stone wall. Now the walls are largely gone, and the moat has become a park. This green belt around the city is a strong reminder of dear old Adelaide, the home town of your faithful correspondent.

After our tour finished (as we walked through the street where one John Paul II was once the parish priest) our legs were gone boom. We retired for a siesta, before going out to a short concert in a nearby stone church - the church of St Giles. The performance was a collection of pieces for organ and soprano. It was a strange concert - the soprano had a beautiful coloratura and was clearly experienced in stagecraft and presentation. The organist complemented her performance by playing as if he'd never seen the music before that morning. I was speculating about whether his right hand could play faster than his left, and the numerous times when he and the soprano seemed to disagree about which piece they were actually playing. He performed a couple of solos, not very well at all. He chose speed over accuracy, and his lack of musicianship was stunning. I took a couple of sound recordings on Le Camera, but I think they aren't worth keeping. The clash!

Yesterday was fairly quiet, we rested and read for ages in the morning. In the afternoon we went out to see a concert at the cathedral of St Peter and St Paul, but it wasn't on for some reason. I've written about this in a piece which I hope to upload very soon.. I had a good shopping opportunity after this, making my luggage to Berlin look kinda complicated. Oh well, that's nothing new.

Today my favourite thing has been the time I spent sitting in a cafe in the Market Square, having lattes and super-fresh raspberries, oh NOM, and watching the world go by. And what did I see? Firstly, a bloody lot of smokers. So many people busy inhaling themselves to death. Then, a lot of icecream eating, hand-holding, strolling, pigeon-feeding, busking, eating and laughing. It's a lovely day today. Every day we've been here, we've heard at some point the piercing top notes of a counter-tenor who aspires to the type of musical interpretation we experienced with that organist at St Giles - this fellow means well, but his approach to pitch is to belt out a high note and hope for the best. Agonising! He sings Schubert's 'Ave Maria' with all the delicacy of a hippo burping after dinner. Today he began 'performing' on the church steps (another church) just as I finished my second latte. That was enough to send me on my way to this Net cafe!

Shortly we'll be off for an early dinner, and then our final Krakow concert - back to the Bonerowsky Palace for a piano recital of Brahms and Chopin. And I need to do some feverish packing as we'll be up at 5:45 am, ouch ouch, to get on the 7am train. Which I most decidedly do NOT want to miss.

Better go, then. Today brought to you by 'Enjoy', those delicious raspberries, and a sigh of relief.

Polish National Day!

Howdy from Krakow.. it's Saturday night here, with celebrations of all kinds going on outside (in the main city Market Square) - live music, stalls selling exotic cosmetics and beer and other useful things. It's warm (28ishC) and humid - yes, sigh sigh, my personal weather dark star is working again; locals tell me it's NEVER humid here, and hardly EVER this warm at this time of year. And our hotel, while purrfectly ok, has given us a west-facing room, oh sighhhh. We do have two fans however, cos we have our own as you know, and there is one in the room. We can manage a rather nice cross-current across the beds, which is enough to cool me, but not so windy that it bothers M.

I have travel-ennui.. perhaps partly because of the bloody Vilnuis fark-up and the physical and mental strength required yesterday. I will post the details when I come back to this 'net cafe with my lappie... but, briefly, nothing went wrong, it was a huge relief to get here so easily compared to the rather dire train option.

[We got into our room, changed to cooler clothes, staggered out to the nearest cafe selling sandwiches and fresh juice, and then collapsed for a long sleep. Then repeated the activity in the evening - up, out for dinner, then collapse for sleep again. Showers and sorting a big bundle of washing for the hotel laundry service happened too. Damn the expense, I'm sick of washing stuff in small bathroom basins..]

I had a big catch-up sleep (in part I think to help fend off a small throat thingie, which I believe I picked up thanks to someone sitting behind me on an airport bus, who sneezed several times before I had the chance to get a tissue over me face - 'airport bus' meaning the buses which took us from the terminal to the plane and vice versa; in one case, because of the long and roundabout route, we were convinced we were being taken to the back blocks to board an old helicopter or perhaps one of those bi-planes where you can get out and do Hollywood posing on the wings...).. I woke up very down. Why??? I asked myself, am I doing all this travel? Another bloody hotel room. More time to be spent finding things and hunting for food and managing suitcases and avoiding cigarettes etc etc. Moop moop I went. M was out, getting concert tickets for tonight and looking around and having a big 'net fix and being NORMAL. There was no chocolate left in our stash.. no trashy mags or new bottles of purrfume... I want a CAT, in fact I want TWO CATS. And my garden and ALL my shoes, and .. and .. home. Even the filing I haven't done yet, waiting for me in boxes in my study....

M returned looking very happy, with bananas, the concert tickets, and lots of news about various useful places he'd found. He tempted me with loving patience to have a banana (low blood sugar fixed), more water (ditto dehydration, probably), gave me a gentle pep-talk ('we can't go home now, think of all the ppl reading your blog who'd be disappointed'; 'our house-sitter would be suddenly homeless'; 'think of having to go home on one of those 27-hour flights with no stopping half-way to recover and shop in Hong Kong'... ok, he didn't really say that last bit but it's a good point - even with those super-don'tdropdeadfromaclot-socks my legs and feet swell alarmingly on planes. And yes, I DO twiddle me legs and walk and stretch and drink water like a fish etc etc... but I digress, again).

He asked me if I'd cut his beard and hair and that was excellent distraction; I spent a long time over it and made quite a big mess in the bathroom - which *I* don't have to clear up! That was enough to get me considering a bit of smiling again. Once we'd washed the hair off ourselves and dressed, it was a bit cooler outside and I was ready for some coffee. M took me to see the wondrous combination of goodies for droopy princesses - AIRCONDITIONING in a shopping mall which had a decent cafe/bar serving LATTE, emergency-strength CHOCOLATE CAKE (chocolate mousse with espresso cream and a praline topping, wowee!) and with a recent copy of The Times for me to read, while he went out to another Information Centre nearby. When he returned, the icing on the cake for me was the L'OCCITANE SHOP upstairs, which he'd noted especially for me. What a guy. No you CAN'T have him, I won't share!

I spent a very happy half-hour in there inspecting every item. Then, with some reluctance, I only bought things I needed ... well, 3 out of 4 were definitely 'replacement' items (skin care). M had suggested I get a candle there, to help with the 'make a hotel room feel like home' supplies. [We both enjoyed a lavender candle I bought from L'O in Melbourne earlier this year; found the scent enjoyable rather than soapy, as cheaper scented candles tend to be.] I chose a cinnamon and orange-scented candle, which on reflection is a bit Christmassy, but purrhaps that will help my Festive Attitude Problem!

~~~~~~~~~~

The concert was a wonderful performance of Chopin pieces for piano, held in a room at the Bonerowski Palace, built in the early 1500s. The pieces were performed by Pawel Kubica; a slim, intense fellow in his 30's I'd say. He had the knack of seeming to coax the piano to produce its music - I feel this sometimes when watching orchestral performances; the conductor seems to be 'magicking' the music from a space above the musicians. Kubica seemed to barely touch the keys, leaving the piano to 'sing' on its own. Fantastic. The event was slightly marred by several audience members taking flash photos. Surely the flash is distracting for the performer? Certainly the 'click' of the shot being taken was distracting for me. I disapprove. This is right up there with mobile phone pollution in concerts. Grrr...

Now I need to go, tomorrow is another day and all that. We're going to be up and doing at a reasonable hour (by 9am) to go on a 4-hour bus trip around Krakow to see the city highlights, and have a short tour through the castle. See you all soon!

Today brought to you by ... M. He deserves all the credit this time.

Tallinn to Riga; Saturday 30th August

sWe’re sorry to leave our very comfy hotel in Tallinn.. sorry to leave Tallinn, and Estonia, where far too little has been seen and done. Whenever I say to someone “I must come back” they respond skeptically, travellers don’t come back, they always go somewhere new, apparently. Not this little birthday girl, I’ve been dreaming of a visit to Estonia for at least fifteen years, and twice I’ve not done it justice - two years ago we didn’t make it to Helsinki OR Tallinn, because of time, health and money problems; this time our time has been squished up by circumstance..

I did enjoy the little bits of the city I saw - yesterday we toddled downtown to post nearly 10kg of stuff home - more books than usual; and an accumulation of purrchases from St Petersburg (dear ones, just wait for Christmas!). I have been buying shawls, they satisfy my need for textiles which is otherwise very hard to satisfy - I can’t see dress fabric shops, or wool shops, or even general haberdashery, in the shopping centres I’ve found. Purrhaps these are more suburban-centred, and I’m not going far enough afield. There’s never enough time... I’ve been skirted around textiles, finding prints (they have patterns too), handicraft items (like socks and hats), shawls, sometimes there are books about handicrafts, that sort of thing. But for those of you who may be hoping for parcels of fabric, patience, patience.. I WILL find some, I am a very determined purrson. But it may take until Berlin and/or Freiburg, where we will be helped firstly because M speaks German, and secondly because we are visiting family in Freiburg and they will be able to help me find stuff. I hope!

M and I had seen ads for a City Tour bus, one of those jump on/jump off circling buses which have earphones with a spiel on various languages. We found the bus stop, just down the road (and across a rather scary triangular road/traffic island/tram track arrangement, death hurtling towards us from every direction).. but the Red Line bus didn’t leave for an hour. We were cold, there was a chilly wind and even I, in a jumper (TWO layers of clothes, it will never catch on) was not too keen on just walking around. We headed for a shopping centre where we could see we could walk through in the warm... and what a find! You know by now that M is no shopper, unless it’s newspapers, books or cds. Well!!! We stumbled into goodies all around - first of all, excellent heating; then a huge stationery sale to replenish our rubber bands, staplers and notepads. I (ever the sook) bought some little notepads with cats and l lions on the cover.. M went looking for newspapers and dunnies. The dunnies were (it’s alright, you can keep reading without taking your pill) extremely posh and fabbo for a big shopping centre. Excellent, big tick of approval. AND!!! we found a newsagent which had several shelves of magazines in English. SIGGGGGGHHHHHH.... I have replenished my trashy magazine supply, lavishly. I LOVE the English “HELLO” magazine, with its photos of ‘the young royals”; snaps of snooty-looking society grrls (there is a very particular look of the rich, young English lass; very groomed and well-dressed but just slightly edging into bizarre [eg high fashion dress, iron-straight hair, but tarty tarty fake fingernails in fluoro pink; or that weird look of a French manicure on one’s toes, those little white lines on the toenail tips look really strange to me], topped off with a flinty down-the-horsey-nostrils glare into the camera. If you look like a very-well dressed horse, couldn’t you smile a bit?? Horses don’t seem grumpy to me...

.. where was I? Oh yes, trash reading. My second choice was a British “My Home is Better Than Yours TM* “ which is full of fantastically over-decorated homes converted from dairies, tar factories, coal miners cottages and fallen-down 60s council homes. The best bits are the careful not-mentioning-of how obscene the amount of money was spent to remove the cowshit and uproot the local rat population; and the casual mention of designer items - nearly always a strangled chair or a pony-skin toaster (I kid you not; I have it in print, a snap of a toaster with a pony-skin .. well, skin. Not a cover, but actually attached to the outsides of the thing. WHO thought of that? Had they forgotten their little white pill that day???). My third choice was In Style, which I am saving up for as long as I can stand to wait. M asked me at dinner tonight if I was enjoying my fix of Hollywood gossip and I had to disappoint him - no news of Brangelina or Paris; no ‘beeped’ photos of Britney doing something else without her underwear; no faked gossip about Our Nicole or Their Scarlett.. cripes, just writing this is making me fret. What if something really juicy has happened and I am the only person in the world who doesn’t know about it?

After our purrchases (M found a German magazine he likes but no English papers) we started looking for a Money Exchange and a coffee shop. Getting closer to the time for the Red Line bus - and of course I saw an Estonian handicraft shop and was lost. Mucho goodies found there, including some small but very characterful knitted cats. I’ve given one to M as a good will and anxiety-lowering token. He took to the little cat (black and white stripes with glinty green eyes) at once, and presently it is sitting on Andy the Norwegian bear’s shoulders, getting ready for some nocturnal mischief as soon as it’s lights out.

There was just enough time for me to stop at Robert’s Coffee (an English chain, but quite a superior operation) for a giant takeaway fix, before we nipped our shivery way back to the bus.

First we took the 'Red Line tour' - an hour around the 'best bits' of Tallinn. There's a strong focus on architectural history - information about pre-war )I and II) styles; Stalinist features (exclusively grey, forbidding and dingy); modernist and a return to the Estonian 'style' - very much influenced by Peter the Great, of St Petersburg, so we see a lot of the gracious pale yellow and cream palace-styled buildings. The commentary is in English, via headphones, with two speakers - a very Amurrican bloke and an English woman with a lovely Zoomerzet accent, lots of gggs. M is tired after this so he goes off to rest. I stay, encouraged by the driver who points out that our tickets cover all the tours, all day. I hop back on and take the 'Green Line' tour, which goes further afield and shows off some of the coast and harbour. Once again there is a strong focus on architecture and the history of building/rebuilding/fires/renovations etc. I took lots of photos, but reviewing them I see I was mostly capturing details of colours and quirks of buildings and the scenery, rather than 'standard tourist spots'. And, writing this paragraph nearly a week later, my impressions have faded.. mostly I recall that it was fun being on the top of a two-decker bus, seeing at least something so I know what I'm going back FOR, and being able to rest while seeing something.

The trip to Riga was MUCH easier - a comfier bus, and the only thing that happened at the border was a brief stop while a nice black doggie had a snuffle around in our luggage (under the bus0. We'd seen everyone getting out their passports, so we did too, but there was no need for them. The driver hopped back onto the bus smiling broadly, and took off with a bit of a wheelie. I gather he was pleased there had been no mucking about. He was a nice bloke, and not as addicted to the smokes as our previous driver. Still no food/loo stops, but we were better prepared with water and some snacks. We arrived in Riga in the late afternoon, so no problem getting into the hotel or finding dinner etc.

Riga (the Old Town, where we stayed in a hotel converted from a monastery, with a few little bits of the old walls and niches left in the re-build) is far too beautiful - romantic and pretty and dignified and full of people who smile.. not so much of the rich totty element as there was in St P, and the streets were full of music, from buskers and cafes and shops.. so welcoming.

We had been told of a concert tonight, at a nearby church, featuring choir and bagpipes. I've collapsed into a sleep, but M goes along to have a peek. He watched a bit of it, enjoying the spectacle of seeing the piper march in down the aisle to the choir - he was watching through the glass doors in the foyer, thus avoiding the expense of a ticket. After a bit he charged back to the hotel to wake me so I could see just a little bit of the spectacle. When we got back to the church, the doors were closed with signs saying 'CD recording'. But a woman right behind us ignored all the signs (in four languages) and grabbed the door handle and went in. Orright.. so we went in too. A woman (perhaps a concert manager, or perhaps a church warden) came over to berate us, but M put his finger to his lips and went 'Shhhhhh!' and we turned our backs. It worked - she went away.. the choir was purrforming a new work (sorry will have to post details later), a very wonderful piece, with some very clever lighting effects, and a lovely, spare orchestral accompaniment. We watched, spellbound, until the very last whisp of sound floated up into the church rafters.. and the applause burst out. We'll be looking out for the CD, the choir was I believe the Latvian State or National Choir, and they were indeed very good.

We retired to eat - and found a cafe/bar called 'Velvet'. The music - dance music - became progressively louder throughout our meal, and we could see another table of large German men peering at the bar. All was soon revealed (as 'twere) - M went over to get something and blimey, there was a dolly-bird dancing on the bar! All set up with a pole to swing on. She was almost wearing some scanty black gym gear, with hot pink bands around her curvy bits. And super-high heels. She was very wiggly, and there were a number of men seated on barstools at her feet...and one guy, somewhat relaxed, who was sort of wearing around and dancing back at her in a very loose-limbed fashion. Of course I had to have a look! - the Germans were a bit surprised, kept staring at me while I watched the dancer.. maybe nice girls don't watch pole dancers? I dunno. I thought she was a good dancer, but SO uninvolved with her worshippers.

That day was brought to you by a bucket of Prada; somewhat raised eyebrows, and the excellent vegetarian meal I had - stuffed zucchini, cream potatoes and a very fresh salad.

~~~~~~~~
Two days later we attended another concert, at another church, this time as paying customers. This was also a premiere, of .. hmm, brain won't co-operate, sorry, I'll add it, I will! ..., with organ, soprano, and a saxophone quartet, followed by a saxophone octed. Very very wonderful, amazing acoustic - a lovely high sound drifting up to the very high arched ceiling, quite warm, and with some interesting cross-echoes. We managed to shake hands with the composer (so laden with flowers he could hardly get a hand free!), and M went crazy with the CDs on sale - four of them are currently on their way home.

Where was I???

.. in Tallinn??? Well, now we've had a brilliant, wonderful, magical and very very interesting time in Riga, you all HAVE to go. It's beautiful and lively and the streets are full of music - I've never been anywhere where there were so many people busking and dancing in the streets. Bach duets and saxophone jazz and the lady in the square who dances to folk music and the two young gels who played their violins with great seriousness and ethereal beauty... we went to two premiere performances in two ancient churches, of choir with organ/choir with organ and saxophone octet. Super fabbo.

I realise you are all wondering why I haven't put up my usual eleventy pages of descriptions. The usual reason - no WiFi access. And because our time in Tallinn and Riga was attenuated after M's illness, we wanted to make the most of our time, especially in Riga when M had recovered enough to have some energy.

Now we are in Vilnius; arrived at 5pm today. And no too sure when we are leaving, because we weren't able to book train tickets before we left, and now we find that it will take at least 15 train hours to get from here, via Warsaw, to Krakow. We didn't know it would be such a circuitous journey, so there isn't enough time unless we do a day of travel like this:

- 9am - 12pm; Vilnius to ? (we didnt' catch the name of the town)
- 5 to 10pm; ? to Warsaw
- 11pm to 5am!!!; Warsaw to Krakow.

Hmmm.... if we have to take these trains, if there are no alternatives such as bus then train, or flying.. then we'll probably stop overnight in Warsaw. And I can't believe that that late train is the ONLY train to Krakow. I hope I'm right!!!

We had some Lithuanian Chinese tucker for dinner.. very toned-down Szechuan food. More like chicken with fried rice of no particular distinction. But it was purrfectly good to eat, just not real.

Today brought to you by a very wonderful cup of coffee made for me in a 5 minute stop - on the bus from Riga to here - in the kiosk, a woman put a briki of powdered coffee (NOT instant) into a briki, added water, and set into what looked like a tray of hot grey sand. It boiled up very quickly; she added milk, and there was my coffee. It was good, and very strongggg. Today was going to be brought to you by the ever-popular Chanel No. 5, but I packed it too cleverly. I've got some on now but I can't smell it cos of a lungful of cigarette smoke courtesy of a passing pedestrian, when we were walking home from dinner. So I'm koff-koffing and can't smell a thing.