On Fish

Feeling much better, we headed to Riga the following morning and arrived at the House Hostel for lunch. Unfortunately there had been a death in the house; the beauty of the fish tank, an enormous angel fish had slipped off this mortal coil and it was a time for grief for Karlis, the guy who owned the hostel. After a suitable period of mourning (approx 5 mins), the discussion took a more philosophical bent and it was decided that in the long run, the death was fish karma for it being so mean to the rest of the inhabitants of the tank...

This set the tone for our stay in House, a whole lot of random conversations and a chance to really chill in a place which felt more like a friend's flat than a hostel. After settling in and having lunch, we wandered round the Old Town in an attempt to find a church for evening mass. We managed to spot a priest and after a restoring cappucinio headed in to a beautiful little church, with lots of Art Nouveau decoration. After mass we wandered back to the hostel through the park and got to see the Freedom Monument, which marked the fight for Latvian independance in 1919. During the Soviet occupation, putting flowers at the base of this monument carried the penalty of being exiled to Siberia. We returned to a super of Spaghetti Bolognase and a Beatles CD, which made us feel very hip.

On Monday morning, Karlis made us a breakfast sandwich which made a lovely change to our usual fare of nutella, bread and bananas. After a leisurely breakfast, we headed to the Art Nouveau district, a stunning area of Riga, with beautiful buildings from the turn of the century which was when Riga was primarily extended. It is full of 'beautiful people', classy restaurants and cafes and it was lovely to just sit outside and soak it all in. Afterwards we headed through the parks to the Musuem of the Occupation of Latvia, which takes you through life for ordinary Latvians during both the Nazi and the Soviet occupation. It was an excellent museum, with particularly good sections on the lives of deportees and intellectuals in exile. Again, we were struck by just how difficult it was to be in this region in the twentieth century.

That evening, Karlis (who used to be a chef) cooked us a delicious stirfry and we sat and drank wine and discussed more 'fish' issues. Afterwards, we introduced him to the hilarity of Michael McIntyre, which I think he greatly appreciated.