And once again I am at another airport, waiting for another boarding to begin. This time I am going home, thankfully. As for my trip, well, Germany was bad, Latvia was good. Germany had blood-sucking relatives in various stages of obesity and retardation, Latvia had a delightful old friend of mine who once again dazzled me with the quality of his company and erudition. Hanging out with mediocrities and plain old dullards is fine and dandy up to a point, requiring minimum of commitment and effort, but tends to be quite depressing when every once in a while you crawl from your dank place under some rock and are blinded by the bright shining stars that are some people, giving rise to feelings of profound inadequacy and general regret. Ah, but such is life. Mine is, at any rate, but that is an unfortunate choice I made.
I don’t really want to talk about Germany. It was depressing. I’ve already seen what there was to see in Cologne, and besides, was only there for two full days so didn’t want to range far afield in search of things to do, concentrating on spending time with my ailing, elderly grandmother instead. This might, after all, be the last time I ever see her alive again. Or then she might hang on for another ten years or so, but it’s doubtful, since people who live that long tend to still have a goal in life, something to look forward to, be it a calling or a hobby, or at least a strong social structure in form of good friends and family to support them, and my poor grandmother has neither. To end my trip on a final depressing note, I booked my flight to Riga with Ryanair. It departed from an old military airport in Weeze, 70km from Dusseldorf, and required a two hour long bus shuttle connection. It was my first Ryanair experience, and I can promise you it will also remain my last Ryanair experience.
But Riga was good. Riga was fun. Not even Riga, actually, but Saulkrasti, where my friend moved after separation from his wife. A brilliant place about 45km east from Riga, along the coast, a small town with all the amenities and more sandy beach than you can shake a stick at. He has a condo in a large block of flats, so all the comforts of city living are at his disposal, complete with high speed internet and hot water, but the sea is only a few hundred meters away, and the river even closer, and the view is fairly pastoral. We spent a few days beaching and fishing, and even caught two tiny perches. The water was almost warm, at 19c, so swam plenty as well. And now I am waiting from my Bombardier Dash 8 q400 to Helsinki. Oh, my flight from Copenhagen to Cologne was for some reason switched from the scheduled A320 to a venerable MD-82, one of the few still flying with SAS, and in Europe in general. It wasn’t quite as old as I first thought, delivered in 1991, but still an interesting plane that I haven’t flown in for at least ten years. But that is it for now, I think. I can’t be arsed uploading and editing photos from my DSLR, so boring photos from my S3 is what you’ll get for illustrations.