A few months ago, if you had asked either of us anything about the Baltic countries of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania, you would have received a very blank look in response.  We wouldn’t even have been able to tell you where they were!  Not so now, however, as we can confidently agree that these three small countries have always stood in a key position, on the eastern shore of the Baltic Sea, along the ancient trade routes between western Europe and Russia. 

Each country has a different, long, interesting and somewhat bleak history, an impressive cultural heritage and, combined, are home to 7.5 million people, nearly half of whom reside in Lithuania.  Spending time travelling through the area has given us a glimpse into the varying influences and control that have shaped these countries right up until 1991 when each were able to declare their independence from the Soviet Union and align strongly with the west through membership of Nato and the EU in 2004.

Foreign control of Estonia and Latvia dates back to the 1200’s and it is easy to see evidence of Scandinavian, German and Russian influence.  Lithuania has a slightly different history.  A fiercely independent European state, The Grand Duchy of Lithuania was formed in the 1200’s and over the following centuries expanded to include large portions of what is now Belarus, parts of Ukraine, Russia and Moldova.  Further strengthened by a dynastic union with Poland it become a formidable power that lasted until 1795 after which most of the Baltic States were largely absorbed into the Russian Empire.  All three Baltic countries enjoyed a brief period of independence from 1918 until 1939 before a gruelling three-year period under Nazi Germany followed by the Red Army invasion which saw the Baltic States once more incorporated into the Soviet Union.  What came next was truly harrowing, a mass deportation of nearly 100,000 “anti-soviet” victims to Siberia and other prison camps, on the back of mass murders of more than 70,000 by the Germans.  Russification within Estonia and Latvia saw large numbers of Russian speaking immigrants settle within these countries, a process not shared by Lithuania probably due to having no direct border with the Soviet Union.  Today nearly half of Estonians and a third of Latvians speak Russian as their mother tongue and there is a clear divide within both countries of attitudes and loyalties, a situation not helped by schools and universities teaching in either Estonian, Latvian or Russian with no common language to help bring the people together.  Average monthly income is between 700-1,200 Euro, no doubt a key factor as to why both Latvia and Lithuania are struggling with population loss due to many young educated adults preferring to relocate and inflation, at the time of writing, was up around 25%. 

We arrived into the small port of Tallinn, Estonia via the two-hour Baltic Sea ferry crossing from Helsinki.  Disembarking was easy and efficient and less than 5 minutes later we were opening the door to our Airbnb just 2 km from the centre of the Old Town.  So, not a particularly large place but WOW, it was cold, everywhere was covered in a thick blanket of snow and the temperature of -3°C may well have been attributable to chilling winds sweeping across from Russia.  What we couldn’t possibly have comprehended at the time was that over the days to come we would be exposed to significantly lower sub-zero temperatures and -3°C was about as good as it got - thank goodness we purchased a couple of winter coats in Norway!

The Old Town of Tallinn is a well-preserved medieval northern European trading city on the coast of the Baltic Sea.  There is a jumble of 14th and 15th century architecture with medieval walls, pointed spires and a maze of cobblestone streets, many of the impressive buildings a legacy from the wealthy foreign merchants that settled here.  Today, the city presents as vibrant and innovative with a wide range of accommodation, restaurants, bars and cafes, but it would be hard not to notice the Soviet style concrete housing blocks and the old women in their full-length fur coats are a constant reminder of what part of the world we are in.  English is spoken but nowhere near as fluently nor as widespread as Scandinavia but what is impressive, is that many of the young adults learnt English when TV was introduced into the country once Russian powers had left.  Most of the programmes were apparently Spanish novellas with sub-titles which would account for the little bit of Spanish influence around.  The younger generation are friendly and outgoing and have a huge enthusiasm for start-ups.  You may or may not know that Skype was born here and Estonia is now one of the world’s most advanced digital societies with offerings of driverless buses, autonomous snow-shovelling robots and robot boxes on wheels delivering take-out that arrive with your chosen selection of music and lights.  We didn’t actually see any of the take-out delivery robots as, apparently, they don’t travel too well when there is snow on the ground which poses the obvious question as to the whereabouts of the snow-shovellers?!

Leaving Tallinn we headed east towards the Russian border over primarily flat, forested country.   For centuries, the region was divided into feudal territories complete with castles and fortresses and the Baltic aristocracy’s penchant for palatial country piles is evidenced by the dozens of manor house estates.  Many are abandoned, crumbling ruins but some have been elegantly restored into boutique country hotels and spas and given that our Euros now had considerably more buying power we were keen to treat ourselves to a bit of luxury.  We weren’t disappointed as we moved from one mansion to the next, hardly able to believe the affordability of such grand accommodation, but the highlight would have to be our overnight stay at Narva Castle.  This recently renovated fortress sits on the west bank of the river Narva, looking straight at the Ivangorod Fortress just 162m of bridge away on the Russian side of the river. 

We had always intended to look around the castle which houses the excellent interactive Narva museum and up until the day before we arrived had no idea that the castle offered accommodation in just two rooms within the northern courtyard.  Delighted with our discovery we quickly booked a room online and made for the castle.  We arrived into Narva just as it was getting dark and major road works right in the middle of the town had Google unable to direct us where we wanted to go, sending us instead into one of the border-crossing terminals.  The second we drove through the open barrier, rows of spotlights came to life giving Bob his short period of fame and we sat a bit like rabbits in the headlights half expecting Russian speaking armed guards to appear who we would somehow have to convince that we had been sent the wrong way by Google.  Of course, none of this happened, a female non-English speaking official gesticulating wildly but clearly enough, indicated that we needed to turn round and leave which we were only too happy to do.  We then did what we should have done in the first place, phoned the castle and waited for them to come and get us.  I don’t know what we were expecting once we did eventually arrive at the castle but it certainly wasn’t what happened.  We were shown to a nicely furnished stone room, handed the keys to the castle and then left to our own devices.  There was no-one else around and we, literally, had the place to ourselves.  Yes, we were a little disappointed about the lack of room service or, in fact, any service at all but as a novel experience it will certainly take some beating. 

With fun at the Castle over, we turned away from the border and travelled south through the pretty University town of Tartu with its Christmas light village and into Latvia.  From the top of Estonia to the bottom is less than 300 km and outside of the smattering of tiny settlements and small towns the countryside is devoid of any sign of life, a theme that continued into Latvia until we reached Sigulda village, lively in comparison due to its resort style facilities which include a vertical wind tunnel (not operating when we were there), a cable car, rope park, toboggan hills and a bobsleigh run. 

Bobsleigh is a popular winter sport in Latvia, with medal winning performances in each Olympic games since 2006, a success rate that might be attributable to the modern artificial bobsleigh track built in 1986.  The track covers a distance of 1420 meters with 16 curves that are navigated at speeds of up to 125 kph.  There are only 18 constructions of this type in the world but what makes the one at Sigulda different is that, outside of international competitions, the track is made available for visitors and tourists looking for a thrill…..

….arriving at the track we wandered around the complex until we found the start of the run.  Rather than the queues we had anticipated, we were met by a lone young guy who informed us that a ride on ‘TaxiBob’ was not possible as the pilot and pusher had gone home.  However, we were welcome to get a ride on ‘SoftBob’???? but could we wait to see if anyone else turned up otherwise we would have to go down on ‘TheFrog’!  OK, so to clarify.  TaxiBob is what everyone recognises as a bobsleigh, the one where the occupants push the sled as fast as they can before jumping in and hurtling down the icy tube – obviously the one we wanted to go on although not without a pilot or pusher.  Soft Bob is a rather disappointing looking four person padded oblong box that sits flat on the ice without any runners and has no need of steering or pushing.  Top speed is a comparatively unimpressive 75 kph.  The Frog is a smaller version of Soft Bob but is fully enclosed and rather than sitting down the two occupants lie flat on their tummies looking forwards through a small square of plastic sheeting.  Disappointed not to be able to experience TaxiBob, we sat waiting in the empty locker room praying that more people would show and were more than relieved when another couple turned up saving us from a ride on TheFrog.  Helmets on, the four of us climbed into Soft Bob and off we went.  OMG, SoftBob went so fast that it was almost impossible to get enough breath to generate a scream as he hurtled towards the first bend.  Crashing into the side wall he rebounded back onto the track briefly before bouncing off the next bend that came all too fast.  At one point we were so high up on the wall that it was 50/50 as to whether a complete 360° was on the cards and it was round about this time that I was ready for the thrill to end.  No such luck, we continued to crash, bounce and fly along the track before eventually sliding to a halt.  All four of us had such wobbly legs that it took us a while to disembark and had the lone young guy reappeared and offered us a ride on TaxiBob we would most definitely have politely declined.

Sigulda is only 50km north of Riga, the capital of Latvia, but for some strange reason we managed to arrive on the outskirts of the city just as it was getting dark, something we usually try and avoid.  It appeared that most of Latvia’s inhabitants lived in and around Riga and we had completely underestimated how busy this city was going to be.  We were swept along with the traffic before eventually finding our Airbnb which was accessed through a narrow archway which led into an inner courtyard.  We just about managed to squeeze Bob (and the bikes on the back) inside and were relieved to park him for a few days while we explored the city. 

Riga would have to be up there with one of the most unexpected places that we have visited so far.  This city is really, really, cool and it would have been easy to stay there for longer than the three days that we had arranged.  The extremely well preserved Old Town straddles a sheltered natural harbour at the mouth of the Daugava river, separated from New Riga by the City Canal which was once the city’s old defensive moat.  Unlike Tallinn, there is not much left of the once mighty fortification bastions that surrounded Riga in the Middle Ages, but the parklands that have been planted in their place are some of the most beautiful we have seen.  A rather astonishing discovery for us was the large collection of art nouveau buildings, roughly one third of all buildings in the centre of Riga are built in this style giving the city the highest concentration of art nouveau architecture anywhere in the world.  The food scene is very much alive with a central market that is one of the largest in Europe and a healthy cuisine rooted in foraging, fermenting and preserving.  There is a good balance between traditional Latvian and foreign dishes with a quality that is as good, if not better, than anything you might find in some of the more gentrified European cities.  What sets Riga apart though is a city that is quirky, eclectic and 100% itself.  There is a magical quality that you feel as you wander along the cobblestone streets in a place that stakes claim to the first-ever public Christmas tree.  This is one city that we would re-visit in a heartbeat.

Something that we hadn’t been able to organise in Scandinavia but were keen to have a go at was husky dog sledding and luckily for us the opportunity appeared just outside of Riga in the Ogre Zilie Kalni (Blue Hills) Nature Park.  It would be difficult to imagine a more perfect place to stand on a sledge behind a team of six huskies as they pull you through the snow-covered pine tree forest.  There is a conscientious aspect to any experience involving animals and nature and it is not always easy to separate the unethical operations as they are often well marketed and misleading.  However, we had no such concerns about Riga Husky Sledding.  All of the dogs involved (there were 34 at last count) had either been taken from animal shelters, handed over from previous owners or, in a couple of cases, turned up on their own.  It is easy to recognise a healthy, happy animal and the dogs that we interacted with were definitely living their best life.  The dogs were a mix of large Alaskan malamutes and smaller Siberian huskies and our six were harnessed up with the smallest, smartest guy up front with size and pulling power increasing to the powerhouses at the back.  The noise as we waited for the dogs to take off was quite something.  The harnessed dogs were kicking up a racket which was accompanied by an even louder howling and whining coming from the dogs waiting for their turn, but as soon as the dogs were given the command to run there was an almost eerie silence as the dogs threw their weight into the harnesses and took off until they reached a speed of nearly 30 kmh.   On reaching the first uphill the pace settled and what followed was an almost dreamlike ride through the snowy landscape.  The respectful relationship between the dogs and the woman in charge of the operation was clear to see and her partner (who spoke better English) told us that next year they are hoping to take part in the annual 300km Sedivackuz Long race, one of the hardest dogsledding races in Europe – we wish them the best of luck. 

With daily temperatures now averaging between -5° and -9°C it is unbelievable to us as sun lovers that we are still so far north, but we had underestimated how much we would enjoy the whole winter wonderland experience.  It is difficult to provide an image of the countryside as everything is completely white and it is possible that without the pretty dusting we may not have chosen to stay so long but there is still Lithuania to cross before reaching Poland and central Europe. 

The border area between Latvia and Lithuania appeared to us to be a 30 km section of no man’s land with not much sign of either buildings or people.  It just so happened that there was a snow blizzard as we were driving through and once again we had fingers crossed that Bob would not let us down.  It was so cold that the snow falling on the windscreen was freezing on contact and the build-up of ice on the windscreen wipers was making an already treacherous drive even more difficult.  It was quite some time before we spotted another vehicle, a car at the back of a convoy fronted by a large truck.  Excellent, we tagged on the end so grateful that there would be help available should the worst happen.  Gradually, small towns started to appear and everything began to feel a bit more normal but it was a long slow drive along snow covered roads and a sense that we would have to be a lot further south before the weather was going to improve.

Predominantly independent for most of its history, Lithuania became part of the Russian Empire in 1795 after which time a series of unsuccessful rebellions from both the Lithuanians and the Poles took place.  A large number of perished rebels were lost which is thought to have been the start of erecting symbolic crosses at the site of a former hill fort just outside the northern city of Siaullai.  Three times during 1961, 1973 and 1975 the hill was levelled, the crosses were burned or turned into scrap metal and the area was covered with waste and sewage.  Following each desecration local inhabitants and pilgrims from all over Lithuania rapidly replaced the crosses until in 1985 the Hill of Crosses was finally left in peace.  There are now thousands of crosses at this site of national pilgrimage, ranging from three meters tall to tiny crosses hanging upon the larger ones, some beautifully carved out of wood or sculpted from metal and brought to the site from all around the world.  Apart from one snow plough, we had the place to ourselves and if it hadn’t been quite so cold we could easily have stayed listening to the sound of the metal crosses and hanging rosaries as they chimed in the breeze.

Vilnius, capital of Lithuania was the last place for us to visit before leaving the Baltics but we did have another unusual overnight experience at Burbiskio House, an impressively large heritage mansion set in extensive grounds just outside the small ski resort of Anyksciai.  The location was quite remote and it was late afternoon when we arrived at the impressive neo-classical building, a building whose only signs of life were a non-english speaking caretaker riding a quad bike.  He seemed a bit surprised to see us but after a quick phone call he walked us through the house, flicking light switches as he went, showed us our room and left.  So there we were, the sole occupants of the most enormous country hotel complete with library, billiard room, ballroom and a large selection of stuffed animal trophies to keep us company.  We had anticipated a meal in the restaurant but that was clearly not an option so we cooked ourselves a meal in the massive commercial kitchen and retired upstairs hoping that someone would show in the morning to offer us an omelette and coffee – which they did!

So that is some of our experiences within the Baltic States.  Certainly, a very different part of the world but well worth visiting.  These relatively new born nations still have an underlying concern regarding Russia’s renewed assertiveness, but there is a growing optimism due to their stronger links with Europe.  To really put in perspective the resilience and strength of these people, in 1989 in protest against continuing Russian occupation, over two million people joined hands to form a human chain connecting the capitals of Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania, a length of 675 km (420 miles).