For the rest of the day in Riga I basically ambled the streets taking as many photographs as I could. I also visited the museum of the Occupation of Latvia, which was rather moving. It told the story of all the occasions when Latvia has been occupied. It begins with the declaration of freedom for the country after the First World War. It then chronicles the modern history of the country (and to a certain extent the other Baltic States), detailing the first Soviet Occupation and incorporation into the USSR; the Nazi 'liberation' and occupation, then the post-war (WWII) re-occupation by the Soviets. There was graphic detail of the fates of political dissenters, and a reconstruction of a camp bunk room. There were artifacts and personal stories and all manner of things to make the stories as personalised as possible. It was a very interesting museum, and like the museum of the Warsaw Uprising it ate away a large part of my afternoon. When I was leaving there were some people asking if they would be allowed in with forty minutes until closing. The response of the woman at the counter was that they were welcome, but they would need at least an hour so maybe they should come back. No kidding - I was in there for about 2 and a half hours. My (not so hidden) inner history geek was revelling in delight.
After the museum I only had an hour and a half or thereabouts until my train, so I did waht any self-respecting expat on her way to Russia would do and visited the timeless standard for culinary snobbery that exists in Eastern Europe - Stockmann. I initially intended merely to get the essentials, such as a bit of cheese, some salami, some bread, maybe a bit of fruit or a yoghurt. Then I noticed the hot deli and bakery counters. I ended up walking out with the following:
- a ciabatta loaf
- 3 miniature spinach and cream cheese pasties
- a half-cut ciabatta pizza
- a raspberry jam and some other substance (cream? custard?) danish pastry
- 200g of potato gratin
- 100g of roast potatoes
- 150g of roast pork (the most delicious, tender and flavourful roast pork I'd had for quite some time, I must add)
- a packet of lactose free cheese
- a can of Coke
- a can of Fanta
- a bottle of water
As you can see, I really went on a health kick.
After my shopping extravaganza I decided to head to the station, where I loitered until the train arrived. I had purchased a 2nd class ticket, and I found myself in a train carriage with what could be construed as benches cum bunkbeds. I knew immediately that I had no desire to be sleeping on the top bunk as a) I was wearing a skirt so getting up there would be potentially embarrassing and b) I have a fear of heights and getting down off the bunk would be an actual nightmare. So, I sat down. I was opposite a youngish girl and her grandma. The girl spoke a little English, which came in useful when an objectionable old fellow started shouting at me. It turned out he wanted to sit by the window, because that was his exact seat number. So, I moved everything and sat in the middle. Then his mate came along, and wanted to sit next to him, so I was now perched on the end. The girl's granny got off the train as she wasn't actually travelling. Another middle aged man took her place. On the bunk/seat by the window on the other side was a young couple. More about them later. I was sat on the end, feeling a bit miserable. Working out the logistics of the situation, I figured that I'd either be forced to sleep on the top bunk, or to share the bottom bunk with one of the middle aged men, who by now I had also noticed, by the tell-tale tattoos on their hands, were prisoners. Whether they were ex-prisoners or escaped ones I don't wish to speculate. However, they were friendly enough until I heard one of them mocking my inability to speak Russian. This prompted me to tell them, in Russian, that as much as I'd love to be fluent in every language in the world, it's not going to happen due to the fact that I am not a genius and I also have to work several dozen hours a week instead of studying linguistics. Or something like that, anyway. I don't think it came out as articulately as that but never mind.
Ten minutes later, the first part of answering my problems was solved. One of the men offered me some of his whisky. In any other situation I would have agreed wholeheartedly. However, without one of my trusty sidekicks with more Russian than me, I didn't want to attempt semi drunken Russian conversation. I politely declined with a bombshell revelation - that I was pregnant. (I'm not, by the way, so no fretty-frets any of you!) Russians love children. They are also highly respectful of pregnant women. A trick that myself and a colleague or two of mine have used in the past on the Moscow Metro is to feign pregnancy in order to get a seat. Which is exactly what I did here. It did have a side-effect in that I had to go an entire 18 hour train journey without a cigarette - that sucked - but it was worth it for the following pay-off. The couple next to me were separated when a woman got on at the next stop and wanted to sit down (as you do, on 18 hour train journeys). The man sat on the seat opposite me and listened to his music while the woman thumbed through a copy of 'My Baby' magazine. A little kid was hovering about and was alternately highly fascinated by my big bead necklace and the woman's magazine. After some time, the middle aged prisoner opposite me went back to his own bunk space, and there was a gap on the seat. The female half of the young couple sat next to her man, and started looking like she was going to sleep. Quick as a flash I asked her if I could steal her seat - she replied in the affirmative - so I relocated all my stuff to that area. Now I was in business. Sat next to the window, facing forwards, I had a table - bargain. The other woman asked me if I wanted the top or the bottom bunk - I replied the bottom one - and my battle was won. I felt like the smuggest, most comfortable person in the world when I'd converted the seat into a bed and I was snuggling down under my blanket (which I'd nicked from the hotel in Warsaw...it's ace, it's white with a red criss-cross pattern on it).
I slept for a good 9 hours on the train, and only got up and sorted stuff out because the woman opposite me wanted to sit down again. The train arrived at the prescribed time, and I made my way to the Metro. I travelled home, unpacked, put up my new fridge magnets etc. After that I went to meet some friends, and ended up having a couple of drinks, as does happen on these occasions...
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