Berlin to Helsinki Day 11: Dyburiai
After our crazy day in the rain we slept hard on a great couch. Maybe I surfed the dunes in my dreams.
When we woke up, Elene took us to eat Lithuania's national dish: Zeppelins. True to its name, it is mashed potatoes in blimp form stuffed with meat. Very filling to say the least.
Lithuania's national dish: Zeppelin
Then she took us just outside the city to see a Nazi bunker built on the beach to protect from attacks. It was later used in Soviet-occupied times to prevent people from trying to escape across the Baltic.
The walk through the forest was a tranquil prelude to the instruments of war we were about to see.
The bunker used to be an abandoned place, like many of the defunct soviet-era buildings around Berlin, but it was recently acquired by some WWII reenactment enthusiasts (yes these exist here, much like the Civil war or American Revolution reenactments in the US) and has been turned into an unofficial museum where somebody from the group sometimes hangs around and gives free tours.
Our guide didn't speak much English but began the tour by asking Mylène in a very grave tone:
"Did you see Titanic?"
-"Yes"
-"Did you cry?"
-"Yes"
-"Why you cry?"
-"Because it's a moving love story"
-"Ok, but when the titanic happened, one of these torpedoes struck a Lithuanian ship and killed 9000 people. And you cry for Titanic!"
Quite an introduction to anything as far as introductions go.
Our guide dressed in a German uniform, two disarmed torpedoes at the entrance to the bunker.
The bunker had actually been covered up by sand from the dunes and was later rediscovered due to erosion.
Inside the bunker they had arranged all of the artifacts that were found upon excavation. A lot of original rifles, shells, ammunition and uniforms. The ammunition was like something you would see in a museum, except that the guide invited us to pick up 100lb anti-aircraft Flak-40 shells and told us to imagine that they were full and needed to be hefted over your head to load the gun at a rate of one every 6 seconds.
The armory with old equipment and ammunition.
Mylène testing out one of the heavy Soviet helmets.
We also went to the turret on top of the bunker which serves as an odd juxtaposition jutting out on the pristine white beach where people combed the sands looking for amber and other colorful stones.
Mylène and Elene on top of the bunker.
We learned that Lithuanians, at least our host and the guide, reserve much more contempt for the Soviets than they did for the Nazis. Although there were Jews in Lithuania, much more people were deported to Siberia in Soviet times for being either intellectual or wealthy where they worked in labor camps. Elene's great grandfather was taken to one of the camps and his local business was destroyed. However, it's most likely that the outcome would have been just as unfavorable if the Germans had won. Furthermore, Lithuanians are very likely to know Russian but very unlikely to speak it or even admit that they speak it. Elene told us that people were forbidden to speak Lithuanian so they learned it in secret schools after class and if any Russian soldiers checked in on them they pretended to be singing.
A recent BBC documentary used the bunker recently while filming about the Baltic's role in the war.
We then went back to the center of Klaipeda and visited part of the port and shipyard. We passed by what used to be a castle in the center of town which, like so many of the cities we've passed on our route, was bombed by the Soviets to make way for the new and great Russian style of living (the gray box).
Unfortunately, we needed to get on the road in order to have a head start for tomorrow on the way to Šiuliai so we made one more stop for some excellent Klaipeda food: Senamiesčo Piršteliai (Old Town Fingers) which have surprisingly not been discovered by the American palette but were perfect pre-bike ride fare. They are extra large, fried cheese sticks wrapped in dough - kind of like a cheese doughnut but much tastier and most likely with more oil.
Senamiesčo Piršteliai (Old Town Fingers) With their traditional dipping sauce: ketchup mixed with mayonnaise
We left around 7pm and rode out into the long sunset. We've come quite a ways north at this point and there is still daylight past 11pm.
As visibility on the road began to decrease we decided to call it a day and stop for the night. We thought we would see more camping places like in Poland or Germany but the countryside is much more spread out than other places we've experienced in Europe and we didn't run into one along the river. So plan B was to stop and ask someone if we could put our tent in their yard. We pulled off into a small village and I asked a group of people who were finishing dinner in the most broken Lithuanian imaginable if we could put up our tent near the house. I made it know right off the bat that we were not Russian. They understood but none of them spoke English so one guy went to get his son who is in 9th grade but spoke great English. He said that it was not safe to stay in that particular village because there are too many drunk people wandering around but they would show us a safer place. In the meantime they sat us down and offered us some wine and tea. We offered some Russian chocolates we had picked up in Kaliningrad (not sure if their adversity to Russia extends to candy).
A deep fog had settled in as we were led down an unpaved road to the house. We saw glimpses of cows and trees through the fading light. We were taken around the back of the house and behind their fields to a cliff overlooking a huge protected nature refuge centered around a bend in the river which flows out to the Baltic Sea. To give you an idea of the landscape, the river is 120 km (70 miles) long with a 9 m (30 feet) elevation drop.
As we set up the tent the son, Dago came with his uncle and built us a campfire which we enjoyed as we warmed up and dried our clothes before going to sleep.
View of the fog and sunset from our campsite.
When we woke up, Elene took us to eat Lithuania's national dish: Zeppelins. True to its name, it is mashed potatoes in blimp form stuffed with meat. Very filling to say the least.
Lithuania's national dish: Zeppelin
Then she took us just outside the city to see a Nazi bunker built on the beach to protect from attacks. It was later used in Soviet-occupied times to prevent people from trying to escape across the Baltic.
The walk through the forest was a tranquil prelude to the instruments of war we were about to see.
The bunker used to be an abandoned place, like many of the defunct soviet-era buildings around Berlin, but it was recently acquired by some WWII reenactment enthusiasts (yes these exist here, much like the Civil war or American Revolution reenactments in the US) and has been turned into an unofficial museum where somebody from the group sometimes hangs around and gives free tours.
Our guide didn't speak much English but began the tour by asking Mylène in a very grave tone:
"Did you see Titanic?"
-"Yes"
-"Did you cry?"
-"Yes"
-"Why you cry?"
-"Because it's a moving love story"
-"Ok, but when the titanic happened, one of these torpedoes struck a Lithuanian ship and killed 9000 people. And you cry for Titanic!"
Quite an introduction to anything as far as introductions go.
Our guide dressed in a German uniform, two disarmed torpedoes at the entrance to the bunker.
The bunker had actually been covered up by sand from the dunes and was later rediscovered due to erosion.
Inside the bunker they had arranged all of the artifacts that were found upon excavation. A lot of original rifles, shells, ammunition and uniforms. The ammunition was like something you would see in a museum, except that the guide invited us to pick up 100lb anti-aircraft Flak-40 shells and told us to imagine that they were full and needed to be hefted over your head to load the gun at a rate of one every 6 seconds.
The armory with old equipment and ammunition.
Mylène testing out one of the heavy Soviet helmets.
We also went to the turret on top of the bunker which serves as an odd juxtaposition jutting out on the pristine white beach where people combed the sands looking for amber and other colorful stones.
Mylène and Elene on top of the bunker.
We learned that Lithuanians, at least our host and the guide, reserve much more contempt for the Soviets than they did for the Nazis. Although there were Jews in Lithuania, much more people were deported to Siberia in Soviet times for being either intellectual or wealthy where they worked in labor camps. Elene's great grandfather was taken to one of the camps and his local business was destroyed. However, it's most likely that the outcome would have been just as unfavorable if the Germans had won. Furthermore, Lithuanians are very likely to know Russian but very unlikely to speak it or even admit that they speak it. Elene told us that people were forbidden to speak Lithuanian so they learned it in secret schools after class and if any Russian soldiers checked in on them they pretended to be singing.
A recent BBC documentary used the bunker recently while filming about the Baltic's role in the war.
We then went back to the center of Klaipeda and visited part of the port and shipyard. We passed by what used to be a castle in the center of town which, like so many of the cities we've passed on our route, was bombed by the Soviets to make way for the new and great Russian style of living (the gray box).
Unfortunately, we needed to get on the road in order to have a head start for tomorrow on the way to Šiuliai so we made one more stop for some excellent Klaipeda food: Senamiesčo Piršteliai (Old Town Fingers) which have surprisingly not been discovered by the American palette but were perfect pre-bike ride fare. They are extra large, fried cheese sticks wrapped in dough - kind of like a cheese doughnut but much tastier and most likely with more oil.
Senamiesčo Piršteliai (Old Town Fingers) With their traditional dipping sauce: ketchup mixed with mayonnaise
We left around 7pm and rode out into the long sunset. We've come quite a ways north at this point and there is still daylight past 11pm.
As visibility on the road began to decrease we decided to call it a day and stop for the night. We thought we would see more camping places like in Poland or Germany but the countryside is much more spread out than other places we've experienced in Europe and we didn't run into one along the river. So plan B was to stop and ask someone if we could put our tent in their yard. We pulled off into a small village and I asked a group of people who were finishing dinner in the most broken Lithuanian imaginable if we could put up our tent near the house. I made it know right off the bat that we were not Russian. They understood but none of them spoke English so one guy went to get his son who is in 9th grade but spoke great English. He said that it was not safe to stay in that particular village because there are too many drunk people wandering around but they would show us a safer place. In the meantime they sat us down and offered us some wine and tea. We offered some Russian chocolates we had picked up in Kaliningrad (not sure if their adversity to Russia extends to candy).
A deep fog had settled in as we were led down an unpaved road to the house. We saw glimpses of cows and trees through the fading light. We were taken around the back of the house and behind their fields to a cliff overlooking a huge protected nature refuge centered around a bend in the river which flows out to the Baltic Sea. To give you an idea of the landscape, the river is 120 km (70 miles) long with a 9 m (30 feet) elevation drop.
As we set up the tent the son, Dago came with his uncle and built us a campfire which we enjoyed as we warmed up and dried our clothes before going to sleep.
View of the fog and sunset from our campsite.
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