A Day at the Fair

We have had an interesting day today.  Riga has an open-air museum outside of the city that is similar to Conner Prairie.  I had read earlier that an Arts and Crafts Fair was to take place there this weekend, so I had planned for us to go there today.  Mike, our contact, told us what bus we needed to take to get there, and since we have used the bus several times, we weren't expecting any problems at all.

Well...we finally found the right bus stop, and there were several people waiting there with us.  The bus came, and we got on as usual.  There were no seats available, but that wasn't a big deal.  We just grabbed hold of a pole and hung on.  The bus had several stops to make before it got to the museum, and more and more people kept getting on.  By the time we were halfway there, we were crammed into the bus like sardines.  Latvians are used to crowded buses, I guess, because they were all talking and acting like nothing was wrong.  Me, I was just hoping I wouldn't have a panic attack.  Luckily, neither one of us are claustrophobic, or we would have been in deep trouble.  However, standing all that way crammed in like we were was not a pleasant experience.  (Don said afterward that he wondered if that's how the Jews felt when they were crammed into the boxcars and taken away.  I told him that I imagined it was a lot worse.  How horrible for them.)  Think this picture, but without the winter coats:

We finally got to the museum, and everyone exited the bus.  I couldn't believe how many people had been crammed onto that one bus.  Anyway, we bought our tickets and went to the fair.  Well, once we got inside, we knew why so many people had been on the bus.  This event must be a really big thing in Riga, because there were thousands, if not tens of thousands, of people there.  Hundreds of booths lined the walkways, all selling either food/alcohol or crafts of some sort.  I can't imagine the amount of money that changed hands.  We started walking and just kept on walking and walking.  It seemed like it would never end.  (Think James Dean Days or Riley Days multiplied many times over.)  We were there for three hours, and I know that we missed seeing a lot of the booths.

One of the sights we saw brought a bit of a giggle.  They have port-a-potties in Latvia, too!  They're called "toi-toi"s.  Isn't that a cute name?

We saw some great Latvian folk dancing while we were there.  I have some videos, but I can't get them to load, so, for right now, I'll show you some pictures of some really cute little girls in authentic folk outfits.  I just stopped them and asked the girls and their parents if I could take a picture of them, and they posed right away.  Aren't they cute?

After being there for three hours, we decided to leave.  We wanted to get back into town for a concert by 5:00.  We walked to the bus stop, and there were lots of people standing there waiting.  Right then and there we (or rather, I) decided that we would take a taxi.  I didn't think I could stand being crammed into the bus again.  There was one taxi waiting at the entrance to the museum, and we went over to the driver.  The poor guy knew no English whatsoever.  We asked how much it would be to take us to Riga, and he couldn't tell us.  At that point, I decided that I didn't care how much it was -- we were taking the taxi. We climbed in, and he asked us where we wanted to go (well, sort of, anyway -- he turned to us and started writing on his hand).  We said Old Town, but that didn't register at all.  Then we named a street that was fairly close to the edge of Old Town, and he had never heard of it (at least he shook his head, anyway).  The museum was on Brivibas, so I knew that he was familiar with that street.  Then I remembered that one of the streets that crossed Brivibas a few blocks into Central Riga was called Gertrude Street.   (We would have to walk a few blocks home, but anything was better than riding that stupid bus!)  When I mentioned Brivibas and Gertrude, he nodded his head, and away we went.  Taxi drivers are the same universally -- they are all crazy drivers.  I just kept my eyes shut, and I think that was the most enjoyable taxi ride we had had yet.  It cost us 15 Euro, but it was definitely worth it.  There is a milk festival in a neighboring area tomorrow, but I'm not sure at this point whether we will go or not.  I'm thinking I'm getting too old for this much fun.

We did make it back in time for the concert.  It was a brass group from Norway called "Fjell Brass."

They were awesome.  The concert took place in a performance hall at the Music Academy.  It was a typical brass band, with lots of cornets, flugelhorns, baritones, alto horns, trombones, tubas, etc.  The group was a bit big and loud for the hall, but it was tolerable.  My legs started hurting as we sat there, and at the end of the intermission, my stomach seemed to start flip-flopping around.  I didn't know for sure what was happening, so I had Don give me the keys to the apartment, and I left after the intermission.  I didn't realize how warm the hall was until I stepped outside.  Once I got outside, I felt much better, so the warm room must have been the problem.

We're in for the night now.  It's 9:15, and there are some nights that we stay out walking around quite a bit later -- but not tonight.  I think I'll stay in and read a good book.  I've had enough excitement for the day.