Cycling in the Baltics
NB: Extended version of the article that appeared in the magazine.
"So you're going to the Balkans?" no, I patiently repeated, the BALTIC countries. That is, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia over the sea from Finland, the trio of small countries that formerly, reluctantly, sat on the edge of the Soviet Union, but now, proudly independent, have all voted to join the EU. Three different languages, none of them easy, and three cultures relatively unknown, to date, in the west.
With some family connections in all three, I was keen to visit so could I say no to a last minute place on a CTC cycling trip? I could not! Even to the extent of leaving my partner behind: it had to be a special trip!
Would I be able to keep up with these super-fit people? Would they endlessly talk sprockets? Would I get on with them? (Yes, no and yes!)
If you dislike hills, this is the landscape for you - almost entirely flat. It means you can cycle much further before you tire. Forty to sixty miles a day was not a problem on this terrain (so long as my hourly snack rations held out!) But if you like views, or even a change of position of bottom on saddle you'll be disappointed.
There were a few days of minibus and trailer support, to cover some longer gaps and give some time in each country, but I'm pleased to say we cycled far more miles than we drove (500 to 360, to be exact. OK, I haven't counted the air miles . . . ) Speaking of cycling by plane: nine of us arrived without bikes left at Heathrow by over-assiduous security people who took too long checking them for chemical weapons. But returning, every bike arrived except, mysteriously, half the tandem from Stroud. . . the second box following two days later.
Tourism is developing, but has some way to go. But there's plenty to see in the cities, whether it's recently-restored churches, huge markets (Riga in Latvia), or very low-tech agriculture in the vast tracts of forested countryside. We saw people sitting milking their one cow, tethered by a rope (no fences) then pouring the milk into tubs which sit in holders each side of a bike for taking home. Or drying their huge crops of tiny onions on racks in simple sheds, where old women sat crocheting colourful blankets. Or coming out of the forests with bags full of wild mushrooms.
In Tallinn (Estonia) our hotel was opposite the famous "Song Bowl" where vast folk festivals inflamed national passions and inspired the "Singing Revolution" of 1991. Only problem being the rock festival scheduled for that weekend: all the yoof of Estonia was there, and the bass beat pounded the area from early afternoon until (thankfully not longer) 11 pm.
Should I say more about the cycling? Frankly, it got boring. Mile after mile of flat forested land, though beautiful at first, didn't change much. There was a bit too much main road on our route, yet the alternative "bumpy gravel track" of our itinerary, was not much better, as recently laid gravel, with no rain to bed it down, is not easy riding. I was glad of the chunkier tyres and suspension on my newer bike! But in the second week the weather changed to cold, wet and rainy, even with hail showers, and once, I admit, a few of us, cowering yet again in a small bus shelter on the main road, called up the minibus 10 miles short of our day's ride. The others, after initial leg-pulling, forgave us: they were drenched and chilled to the bone. Our days off, by beautiful lakes in national parkland, were sadly not spent lazily sunning and swimming. The "optional" cycle rides were essential, just to warm up! Meanwhile in England the heat continued, if the state of my garden on my return was anything to go by!
Still, a brilliant trip.
Helen
