Castles and crosses in Latvia and Lithuania.

I am eager to see more of the country and book a day trip to visit the Hill of Crosses, Rundale Palace and Bauska Castle.

I don’t really know much about any of the sites, but figure it’s a good way to get an introduction to the countryside. The fact that the Hill of Crosses is in Lithuania doesn’t quite register when I book the tour.

Originally, I had planned to start my Baltic journey in Vilnius, working my way up to Tallinn with Riga as the midpoint, but given my plans for the year I didn’t have enough Schengen dates. This will be my only foray into Lithuania on this trip; I’ve already started thinking about when I can make it back.

In the morning, I head to St. Peters Church to meet with the guide and driver Jānis. He’s in a white Sprinter van and steps out to greet me as I approach.

There’s a couple from the States, a woman from the States living in Greece, and a nurse from the UK on the tour along with me. Once we’re all collected we drive off out of the city headed south. Before we reach the border we pass Jelgava castle, the largest Baroque-style palace in the Baltic states. It’s now home to the Latvia University of Life Sciences and Technologies. It’s not on the itinerary, but Jānis pulls over to see if we might be able to walk through the courtyard. It’s Sunday, however, and closed. He pulls around to the front so we can take some photos before we move on.

At the border there’s no one to check our passports. The border itself is a blink and you’ll miss it set of small buildings on either side of the road.

The landscape doesn’t change much once we enter Lithuania, though we do pass a set of cow sculptures as we round a roundabout near the Hill of Crosses. I do my best to capture a shot through the windows of the van.

Soon, Jānis points out the hill to the left. We turn onto a narrow street and head towards the parking lot. Jānis gives us the lay of the land, pointing out the gift shop and the access to the hill. It’s cold and blustery and I pull my scarf around my neck as I walk the path to the hill.

It’s overwhelming, the hill and the many crosses that have been erected and laid upon it. I walk through the center and up the hill and descend the other side. There’s a chapel in the distance and I make my way towards it. People have gathered inside, sitting quietly. Outside, I hold the door for others who have just arrived.

Walking back to the hill, I circumnavigate the base, walking in a clockwise direction. On the far side, I climb a narrow path to get a closer view at some of the smaller crosses strewn alongside the hill.

A small structure has been built on a ridge slightly off in the distance and I make my way to it. Pope John Paul II had visited here in September 1993, and a small plate with his photo sits at the base of the cross. Coins surround his visage, form almost a mask across his face. His eyes look off to the distance, looking bright.

We cross back into Latvia to visit Rundale Palace, a baroque built for the Dukes of Courland. The palace was built as a summer palace from 1736 until 1740 and then from 1764 until 1768.

Jānis leads us to a small building to the right of the gates where he secures tickets and we pick up maps. There are none in English and so I choose one in French. He tells us there’s an audio guide, which would take longer than we have time for, and leads us to the entrance. We slip our shoes into shoe covers and he leaves us to explore on our own.

Inside, the palace is beautiful; it’s exquisitely preserved. I start listening to the audio guide as I make my way through the rooms, eventually becoming more selective as I make my way through.

There seem to be an endless supply of rooms and portraits, all spotless. It’s as if the palace were newly-built. There are few people visiting and it’s almost like we have the entire building to ourselves. I feel dwarfed by the expanse.

At the back of the palace I pass a set of glass doors that lead to a balcony overlooking the gardens. The trees are bare, the lawns devoid of flowers. It’s too early in the season and I decide not to walk the grounds in order to spend more time in the castle itself.

After touring the rooms, I head to the ground floor cafeteria join Michaela for lunch. We order sandwiches and Christina joins us when she arrives. She opts for a soup.

Our next stop is Bauska Castle, a complex that consists of the ruins of an earlier castle and a later palace added in the sixteenth century. Originally a stone fortress established between 1443 and 1450 by the Livonian branch of the Teutonic Knights, construction continued until the end of the 16th century.

In 1706, the castle and palace were blown up during the Great Northern War by retreating Russians. In 1874, the ruins were purchased by Prince Paul von Lieven, who began their restoration.

Jānis suggests we skip the palace and leads us to the castle where he points to a set of stairs that lead up to the top of the tower. There are fresh wood platforms from which we can look out over the grounds and the rivers below.

Walking out the back of the courtyard we descend a small hill and look back at the views of the castle. A small amphitheater has been set up facing the river and I wonder what performances the summer might bring.

We follow a path back t othe front of the palace and stand on a hill opposite, walking under the cannons that defend the palace’s position.

Back in the van we head towards Riga, passing a Russian Orthodox church. Christina asks Jānis to stop so she can take a photo. He pulls into a spot by the side of the road and she alights for a better shot.

Back in town we decide to have dinner, finding ourselves at Ala Pagrabs, a gastropub not far from my apartment. It’s an expansive place with live music and we sit and eat at a table and continue drinking at the bar. Christina is the first to call it; Michaela and I soon follow. A light rain has fallen while we were at the restaurant and the streets glisten. 🇱🇻