Survival of the not-too-fittest

The winter solstice is still three days away, but winter has been making itself at home here since late October. Thanks to indoor heating, winter tires and a small fortune spent on coats, gloves, shoes, long underwear and Yaktrax, this California native has been coping pretty well, if he doesn't mind saying so himself (especially now that he's managed to avoid any further cartoon-like pratfalls on the ice). He...I have to admit the winter landscape is beautiful, and when the sun makes a rare appearance like it did last Thursday, a walk following lunch in the area near my workplace can be surprisingly therapeutic, taking in snow-covered Catholic shrines...

...scenic viewpoints...:

...and the occasional Russian Orthodox church (Sts. Constantine and Michael):

The sun didn't come out on Saturday, but my family and I stopped by the aforementioned scenic viewpoint to let Amber slide down the hillside there, both on her stomach penguin-style and on the cheap plastic disk we'd purchased a few years ago while in Virginia:

Dad preferred to stand guard at the bottom of the slope in order to prevent my daughter from flying over a ledge and into a grove of trees. I was also thinking of a colleague who recently tore his Achilles heel playing basketball, a reminder that men over the age of forty and recreational sports don't always make the best combination. Shu-E, on the other hand, had no qualms about letting gravity do its thing:

The icy surface  and steepness of the gradient made the going especially quick, but as you can see, Amber didn't seem daunted. Oh, to be a kid again:

The sun remained hidden on Sunday as well, but I took Amber out in the early afternoon, partly to give my wife the opportunity to finish some Christmas shopping:

The two of us had tacos for lunch at No Forks (there were, in fact, forks available). The Wostok apricot & almond fruit soda has its origins in the Soviet Union:

Playing around with some photo effects while walking past the Town Hall...:

...and down Pilies gatvė:

Amber and I stepped in from the cold, ice and snow to the National Museum of Lithuania (Lietuvos Nacionalinis Muziejus). Housed in the 19th-century New Arsenal building, the museum displays artefacts from Lithuanian life that have been collected by the Museum of Antiquities since 1855. A statue of King Mindaugas has been standing guard out front for the past thirteen years:

Among the displays are this executioner's sword from the 16th-17th centuries...:

...this impressive 18th-century sleigh...:

...a fan supposedly given by the Japanese emperor to the officers of the Russian frigate Askold in 1857...:

...an iron handprint of Peter the Great...:

...some drinking vessels...:

...religious items...:

...and some articles of war:

Speaking of military matters, the museum has a small but haunting display of artefacts retrieved from a mass grave of soldiers of Napoleon's Grande Armée, which paused in Vilnius on the disastrous retreat from the failed invasion of Russia in 1812:

Lithuanian traditional costumes:

A life-size recreation of a Lithuanian peasant family home:

If there's one thing Lithuanian folk artists know how to do, it's crosses. They do it so well, in fact, that cross-crafting is listed by UNESCO as an Intangible Cultural Heritage:

The special exhibition going on during our visit today was a photographic collection of ruined churches and manor homes in Lithuania, some destroyed by war, others by the Soviet and some for mysterious reasons from a century or two ago. Urban explorers would enjoy this country:

I've managed so far to keep up my spirits despite the cold, darkness and snow, and as yet not broken out the happy light or felt an overwhelming urge to drive immediately to the airport and hop on the first plane that will eventually deposit me on a beach in southern Thailand. But there's still a long way to go before I can break out the shorts and sandals and enjoy an 11pm sunset. Check back with me after our first -25°C (-13°F) day to see how I'm coping then (and send some Scotch to warm my bones)...:

Can't think of a good title for this post...

St. Casimir's Church

Weekend update: with the temperature on a sunny Saturday afternoon a balmy 4°C (39°F), and with my daughter having a play date at a classmate's apartment, I went for a bike ride along the northern bank of the Nevis River, heading east and then northeast (away from Old Town) before returning from whence I came. It wasn't a long ride, but then I'm hardly in peak physical condition, so I did the best I could for a couple of hours. The bike path is well-marked and easy to follow, and in places passes under a canopy of autumn leaves. The first place of note I passed was Tuskulėnai Serenity Park, which was created to remember the victims of Soviet oppression. From 1944 to 1947 some of those who resisted the re-imposition of Soviet rule at the end of the Second World War were tortured, murdered and then secretly buried on the grounds of the present park. A simple memorial atop a mound pays tribute to the victims:

It's hard to comprehend, but there are people out there who congratulate themselves on their political progressiveness, yet somehow can't see Vladimir Putin's Russia for the autocratic, corrupt regime it is. From the Baltics, however, the Russian saber-rattling combined with the historical revisionism is clearly evident. Lithuanians have first-hand experience going back several centuries as to what it was like to live under first Russian, then Soviet rule, and most people here clearly prefer life within the European Union and under the security umbrella of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization.

The elegant former Tuskulėnai Manor House, located next to the Serenity Park

Next up was an abandoned house that I stopped to briefly explore. The place is thoroughly trashed, and a couple of other buildings on the property are only shells after obviously having been burned down. Behind the house is a large structure that could've been a factory or a warehouse; I didn't explore it, however, as two men were having a cookout nearby and I didn't want them to see me. In fact, considering my occupation, I probably shouldn't be trespassing anywhere, so I didn't linger long here:

An idyllic scene of a small houseboat on a branch of the river:

There's an actual beach along the Neris called Žirmūnai. Obviously, no one was going to be swimming there on a cold day in the middle of October. There were, however, ducks lolling about in the water; as I approached to take a photograph of them, they all emerged from the water and started heading toward me. Now I understand why they haven't gone south for the winter yet:

A stately oak tree (unless I'm mistaken) beside the cycling trail:

I eventually reached the 18th-century Trinapolis Church (closed, at least on this Saturday):

From the church I returned to Old Town, pausing outside the hideous Soviet-era behemoth known as the Lithuanian National Opera and Ballet Theater to take a photo of the old and the new on the other side of the Neris River:

Weekend update: Sunday was yet another chilly but sunny day. Too bright to stay at home, and not cold enough to find an excuse to remain indoors. So the three of us headed into Old Town to visit St. Casimir's Church (Šv. Kazimiero Bažnyčia):

We mistimed our visit to coincide with the noon mass, which was in full procession when we crashed the party, so we decided instead to get some lunch first and return to the church afterwards. A short walk from St. Casimir's brought us to a nice little French bistro called Balzac:

Amber, Shu-E and I shared some escargot as appetizers, after which I dove into a grilled sea bass as my main course:

Back to the church, and this time it was empty. Some history: St. Casimir's is Vilnius' oldest baroque church, completed by the Jesuits in 1615. It serves as a microcosm of the city's history, having suffered damage from fires and wars over the centuries. In the 18th century a new dome with a crown replaced the previous dome which had collapsed, while the interior was decorated with 13 Late Baroque altars, most of which were later destroyed by Napoleon's army. St. Casimir's became a Russian Orthodox house of worship in 1868, resulting in the towers being lowered and topped with onion-shaped helmets, while the Baroque frescoes and sculptures were demolished (see what I mean about Russian aggression?). During the First World War, the German army made use of it as a Lutheran Church, after which it was returned to the Jesuits and restored in the 1920's. The dome was rebuilt with the addition of a crown in 1942 (see photo below). The Soviets turned the church into a Museum of Atheism in 1963 before it was finally re-consecrated by the Jesuits in 1991, following the restoration of Lithuanian independence:

With a backstory like that, you would expect the interior to be impressive, and it is, though surprisingly minimalist in ornamentation compared to other churches and cathedrals we've visited:

We could also go down into the crypt, where there's a relic supposedly of Saint Andrew Bobola:

And that was pretty much our afternoon. Leaving St. Casimir's we took a long, leisurely walk through the streets of Old Town before returning home, stopping long enough for my daughter to have some fun with a pile of leaves:

It's nice living in a small Baltic republic that is no longer part of a Moscow-centered "Russian World" united by a common language. These days it's English the young people of Lithuania are speaking, and speaking well:

There's a beautiful full moon above Old Town on Sunday evening; even with a tripod, my camera doesn't do the scene any justice