April 30, 2015
Day 105 - Day trip to Curonian Spit
To get to the Curonian Spit without going through Russia, it's necessary to take a ferry. A very straightforward crossing, you simply buy a ticket from the machine, follow the bike lane to the waiting area, then follow the guy with a bike onto the ferry, as the crew is unlikely to tell you when to embark or disembark unless you are getting in the way, as I did on the return journey because I was late and approaching the boat from the wrong side. The crossing itself takes about five seconds.
It was a good time of year for a visit, as it was practically deserted, whereas it would be packed during the summer. A huge, empty beach, pine forests, mostly blue sky. I struggled with my bike over the steps over the dunes and started to walk along the beach. When I noticed I wasn't sinking in the sand, I tried biking on it. It turns out there's a ribbon of sand between too dry and too wet that can hold my bike. So I biked on the beach for a little while, enjoying myself for some unknown reason, completely forgetting about all of those sand roads I despised so much. I decided the occasion called for a photo to share with you. So I balanced my phone on my handlebar bag, set the timer, and jumped on the bike.
I went back inland, biked for a while, sat on a bench. A woman biked up on an old steel cruiser with a rear basket. She was hidden under a big burgundy coat that looked too warm for the weather. She pulled out a folding stool, and sat down on it. I though she had a sketchpad, and my mind went to the KGB museum in Vilnius and its display of pages from a manual about undercover surveillance disguises: a holidaymaker, a vegetable seller, an artist in the field. Though I was able to discern that she had a notebook and a newspaper rather than a sketchpad, she still looked a lot like she belonged in that manual. I decided to make her job as boring as possible, stretched out on the bench, and fell asleep.
When I woke up, the KGB agent was still there. They sure don't have much to keep them busy these days. I, after napping in the sun, was exhausted, and lazily made my way back to the ferry. Back in Klaipeda, I found a place for dinner and saw a message on Couchsurfing--I had noticed the cyclist from Vilnius/Malbork had posted something on the Klaipeda page and sent him a message a few days ago--he was in town now and could meet up. When the young Aussie arrived, we shook hands, then he exclaimed, "I had the worst day yesterday!!" "Me too!" I answered. Ah, it was great to finally talk to someone who understands me.
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Today's ride: 44 km (27 miles)
Total: 5,499 km (3,415 miles)
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