








Another day, another country. This afternoon Josh and I marched off to the Tallinn port and boarded a fast ferry to Helsinki. Finland is country number 35 for me! And it number 36 or 37 or 38 for Josh depending on whether or not he counts his layovers in Copenhagen and Reyjavik airports. I'll leave that up to his conscience to decide.

Here we stumbled upon a newly married couple exiting Alexander Nevsky Cathedral. They released two doves and waved goodbye to them as the flew over the Tallinn skyline.
Above is the Freedom Monument, erected after Latvia gained independence from Bolshevik Russia in 1920. During the Soviet occupation, it was left standing, but Latvians were punished when they would place flowers at the feet of the monument. Today it's base is covered in flowers each day. As a sidenote, the worlds slowest McDonlands is located directly opposite the monument.

Lest you think everything in Riga is about oppression; you can see here what Josh looks like after flying from Australia to Latvia and not sleeping for three days. We spent both nights in Riga at a big beer tent in the central square. I never saw a sign with the name of the place, but you can't miss it. They served excellent Latvian beer at $3 each and Krusovice and Budvar for $4. We saw several bachelor parties cruise through the cobblestones, one group ominously dressing in matching white plastic jumpsuits presumably to allow for the easy removal of spilled beer and/or vomit. The club owners cringed when they saw them coming. Even better than the beer tent is a bar strangely named "Nobody Writes to the Colonel". Inside are mostly students listening to awesome American 80's music and drinking decent Latvian beer in plastic cups for just $2.


Today we caught a cab to the airport and boarded a short Baltic Air flight to Riga, the capitol of Latvia. Riga is the largest city of the Baltics at over 700,000 people. Riga actually has more inhabitants of Russian descent than of Latvian. Josh and I instantly noticed a different look than the people of Lithuania. Designer clothes, high fashion and high heels are de rigeur for Rigan women, while many of the men look like they could be cast in a James Bond movie as Russian mafia goons.
The old town has beautiful Art Nouveau architechture, though much of Riga was destroyed in WWII. Josh and I visited the Museum of Occupied Nations, which was an eye-opening lesson on the recent history of the Baltic countries. While most Americans would simply think of the Baltics as "former Soviet republics", these countries are adamant about proclaiming the 45 years of Soviet rule as an occupation. This museum outlined the horrible atrocities of the Red Army in 1940, then the Nazis from 1941-45, and then the Soviets again from 1945 on. When the Nazis forced the Red Army out of the Baltics in 1941, the people hailed them as saviors at first, until they proved to be equally as murderous as the Russians. Once it was clear that the Russians would be storming back in in 1945, and not the Americans, over 200,000 Latvians ran for their lives, many crowding into rowboats and fishing trawlers desperately trying to make it to Sweden. Those who were left behind lost their property to communism, their religion to forced athiesm, and their language to forced Russian teaching. Many received banishment to a Siberian gulag or outright execution.

We awoke late today to walk around beautiful Vilnius. The bell tower and church pictured above are stunningly white in the late afternoon light. Vilnius has a small old town, easily seen within an hour or two. The people here seem to be the friendliest of the Baltics. When we arrived at our hotel, the clerk couldnt make change for us when we wanted to purchase a few beers from their fridge. Instead she said to take whatever we wanted and just pay tomorrow. This would contrast sharply with our hotel in Estonia where the clerk looked us up and down and after evaluating our grubby, unlaundered, backpack-laden appearance; demanded that we pay for our room immediately rather than upon checkout.

This morning I went for a quick run through southern Liechtenstein, then caught a bus to the train station in Buchs, Switzerland. Two hours later I arrived in Zurich. According to Mercer, the people of Zurich enjoy the highest quality of life on earth. That's quite a statement, and from walking around the city, I think it might be true. The city is sparkling clean, sits by a pretty lake, with a river running through it. There is very little traffic, and lots of green space and bike lanes. This is a world capitol of banking, and I saw hundreds of buisnessmen in designer suits walking around town on their lunch break. They must pay these guys well, cause I purchased the most expensive Starbucks Venti frappucino ever at just over $7.
A nice couple from Sri Lanka took a picture for me with Lake Zurich in the backround.



Click on the following link for some recent news about Liechtenstein: http://www.theonion.com/content/video/liechtenstein_successfully_tests
Barcelona, the center of the anti-fascist rebels during the Spanish Civil War, the home of the 1992 Olympics, the city with no hotels under $400...
The next day we headed into Barcelona by the quick, cheap, and scenic train. Barcelona is a bustling, crowded city! While Madrid seemed somewhat deserted on the Sunday that we were there, Barcelona on a Formula One Saturday is packed! We walked along the tourist trail seeing all the required Gaudi architecture, which is indeed quite pretty and strange. The Sagrada Familia is especially huge and strange, and nowhere near finished. We traversed the length of La Rambla which is kind of like Boulder's Pearl Street except with three times the people and four times the body odor. I still liked it though Lindso was a bit put off by the mass of people packing you in from all sides.
The shopping in Barcelona was the best we had found. As it was our last stop in Spain, we grabbed some Spanish fashion to bring home. After a long day of walking we forced ourselves to a trip up the funicular to Montjuic, the home of the Olympic Stadium. Great views were had there, though we were too tired to actually find the stadium. Time to call it a trip!

Off from Valencia and back onto the highway again today. What should have been a five hour trip, soon turned into six, then seven. A wrong turn near Barcelona, then some white knuckle switchback driving in Andorra had me near the end of my rope. I was ready to run down any Andorran bovine who strayed into my path. Just when the swearing had reached it's apex, our hotel magically appeared before us. Once I shut off all 63 horses of the Citroen, and took a deep breath, I realized we were in a beautiful mountain valley! Andorra is a mini-Colorado, much like Liechtenstein. Lindso and I went for a run on a mountain trail next to a bubbling brook that slowly climed a thousand feet or so. For the first time on the trip we were really out in nature, and it was very nice.