July 13
Maybe it was the Švyturys or maybe it was staying up too late the night before catching up with friends and family on Facebook, but we got a bit of a late start. The maid was knocking on the door to make up the room before we were near together. No matter, we were soon out and on a mission for souvenirs.
Our first stops were the little boutiques and second-hand shops on Saviciaus gatve, where Alex got a couple of vintage tops. These were, ummm, personal souvenirs. Next stop, the kiosks and shops on Pilies gatve, full of (maybe it is and maybe it isn’t) amber, hats and scarves in the obligatory geltonas, žalias ir raudonas (yellow, green and red) of the flag, leather goods, linen, traditionally patterned socks and mittens, Russian nesting dolls and all manner of typical souvenir shop knick-knack. Shot glass with a vilkis? No problem.
A half dozen stores and booths later, we had accomplished purchases for Alex’s brothers (can’t reveal what they are until Alex gets home), but were left with the dilemma of what to get her parents and friends. We decided to cogitate on it over lunch at Koldunine. As one might infer from the name, their specialty is koldunai.
Koldunai are little circles of a simple flour and water dough stuffed with various sweet or savory fillings. You might know them as pierogies; growing up, we called them virtinai. Either way, they are little mouthfuls of pure deliciousness. I had mine with beef and Alex had hers stuffed with potatoes. The restaurant was a sweet, simple cafe with crisply pressed linens and mismatched china. The proprietress was lovely, and pretended to completely understand my Lithuanian, which endeared her to me even more. The koldunai were fabulous. We will be back.
After lunch we headed to Užupis, a section of Vilnius that was once a thriving Jewish community from the 16th century until WWII. Now considered akin to the Montmartre with a thriving artist community, it declared itself an “independent republic” with its own president, currency, army and constitution. All tongue in cheek. The constitution, however, is one I can definitely get behind. Read it here.
As we walked down Paupio gatve, I told Alex that during my last visit I had photographed a kitten in one of the windows, and it was one of my favorite photos. She pointed to a window. “There’s a cat.” I can’t say for sure, but it looked suspiciously like the photo I had hanging on the fridge at home, just grown up a little. The house seemed familiar, as did the lace curtains. They had gotten new windows, as all the houses seem to have on that block, so it just might be…
We continued up the road to the Bernardine cemetery, one of the oldest in Vilnius. You might think it’s weird, but I like cemeteries — now. When I was little, I was deathly afraid of them, no pun intended, and would go to great lengths to avoid even having to look at one. I would duck down in the car until I was sure we were safely past. Not sure when that changed, but now I’m in heaven when I get to walk an old cemetery. This didn’t disappoint. It was secluded, and wooded, quiet with moss and ferns. The plots were jumbled together, one upon the other, comforting each other with casual familiarity. Utter beauty and randomness, planted with care or carpeted with weeds, side by side.
Back down in old town, we crossed the Green Bridge over the Neris to the naujamiestis, or new town, snapping shots of the last remaining Soviet-era sculptures that grace its four corners. One the river banks by the bridge, plantings spell out the endearing, “aš tave myliu” on one side and answer, “ir aš tave <3" on the other (I love you and I ❤ you, too). Striking new architecture provides a foil to the antiquity across the water.
We crossed back over near the Cathedral and wandered the back streets on our way to dinner. There was a group of teens playing soccer on the plaza right in front of the presidential palace, within steps of the from door. No security and no worries. It was so refreshing to see.
Alex is a sucker for beautiful architecture, so when we passed the university, an emphatic, "why can't I go here?" almost leapt from her mouth. I think she'll be checking out Hofstra's study abroad options, though she states she'd want to come back only after she has learned more of the language.
We ate at Lokys, which is a restaurant that specializes in game. A not so game Alex had a creamy vegetable soup and šaltinosiniai (literally, cold noses, a nickname for little koldunai stuffed with blueberries, because they are served cold and supposedly resemble winter-nipped noses). Because I always have to try something I haven't had before, I had the beaver stew. Sorry, Bucky, but you were wonderfully tender and rich, a little like moose, which in turn is like a really good brisket. Ice cream, of course, capped the evening, because Lithuanians know how to do ice cream right.
Back at the hotel, as we were uploading pictures to Facebook, we were in hysterics, as we were most of the day (well, except when we were in the cemetery). Alex said to me, "I've never laughed so much." Mission accomplished.
Tomorrow, Trakai.
My Lithuanian Summer 