Nida & Klaipedia, Lithuania

Klaipedia was not a particularly exciting town. I stayed there because it was an easy day-trip to Nida, the Lithuanian Sahara, so-called because of its huge sand dunes. It's situated on a piece of land called the Curonian Spit, which is essentially a peninsula in the Baltic sea.

The first night I arrived in Klaipedia, the youth hostel was full, so I checked into a dodgy little hotel in the center of town. It was extremely odd staying in a room by myself after nearly two months of sharing with multiple snoreboxes. I was quite beside myself, not really knowing what to do with a "Room of One's Own", so I washed everything I owned and hung it about the room to dry. Wow, I'm gosh-darn exciting, aren't I?

Unfortunately, my sleep was disrupted a little because it was raining outside. In the morning, I awoke to discover it had rained inside as well. The hallway had a good three inches of standing water, which the janitors were busily sweeping down the stairwell. I decided it was definitely time to go.

My morning wasn't looking up for me, as I was wearing wet clothes (didn't dry as well as anticipated) and the bus to Nida was forty minutes late. Fortunately those things were only minor snafus that were easily straightened out. Although the sky initially looked a bit ominous, it turned out to be a really lovely day. Most days in Nida are probably lovely though, because the city is extraordinarily beautiful.

I walked along the shore for a bit before hiking up the sand dunes. I was so happy I was grinning like a simian (even though sand was flying in my mouth). Finally, I plopped down on the sand, turned on some Counting Crows, and watched the ships move across the water. The afternoon had fallen completely into place for me, and I felt as though I could unfold my arms into the air and rest the weight of the sky on my palms. It was nearly too perfect.

I bought some raspberries from a little old lady as I strolled back into town. I ate all of them before it occurred to me that they might not have been pre-washed, and I could die of some parasite that I wouldn't be able to pronounce. Then I started to wonder if my travel insurance would cover death from raspberry parasites. As I was contemplating this, I happened upon another roadside stand with another little old lady who was selling more raspberries. I like to consider myself an egalitarian, so I bought some from her as well. (Okay, so maybe I was not thinking about promoting equality in roadside commerce nor the parasites. All I knew is that those things were good, and I wanted more.)

Haven't died yet. That is a plus.