3:48am: Boarded the bus. There are 28 other people aboard. What on earth are they doing here?! Some look to be TFL employees, others must be catching a plane too judging by their suitcases.
4:14am: Arrive at London Paddington ready to catch the Heathrow Connect. It's late.
I'm heading to Lithuania to take part in a jazz singing competition, from which I'll return on Sunday 11th April. My journey has a 3-hour wait at Copenhagen airport. It's the best airport I've ever been to! Spacious, clean, a huge selection of varied amenities including a caviar bar. Shame I didn't think to bring any Danish Krone.
The competition is organised by the Music Faculty at the University in Klaipeda. They pick me up from the airport along with two girls who I'd been eyeing up on my flight. I suspected they would be jazz competitors! One is from Georgia, the other from LA. We're taken to a hotel... nice rooms, a strange 3D television in the reception area showing Kylie videos, and a strip-club on the second floor. As I venture out at 8pm it's just kicked off... and is drowning out the lift music.
We (me, LA and Georgia) spent the afternoon at the Music Faculty building watching the heats from the Lithuanian contestants. It's interesting how language works. I feel myself speaking in broken English to Georgia (real name Natia), and she finds herself speaking in German to me! We're getting by. It's also taken me a while not to speak in broken English to LA (real name Liela).
I've decided to dip in to the Lithuanian language by looking at the welcome pack I've been given, which contains itinerary, two maps, pass to jazz clubs, guidebook and phrasebook. It takes me ages to find 'please', 'thank you', and 'sorry' all of which are on page 4. I'm not sure they've listed these in order of importance... page one starts with 'hello', and by phrase number 13, you're already asking 'Are you married?' Perhaps Lithuanians are very forward.
This evening we've been invited out to the 'Jazz Klubas.' Either this, or I could stay in my hotel to watch 'Beverlio Hilio Kop(io?)' on the TV. I'm going for the jazz. We've been invited to a meal at 8pm, and I'm the first here at 8:15. I'm shown to a huge room on the top floor of an elaborate pub, laid out with conference-style high-backed chairs. Dinner is brought to me - some sort of meat-tasting soup, and a sausage-thing with coleslaw and potatoes. Two more people arrive. Three more people arrive. They leave. I finish dinner and go downstairs to the basement where there's a jazz club. The organiser of the event has chosen down here to eat his dinner. Not very organised! I haven't really met anyone properly yet - both LA and Georgia are nowhere to be seen.
Headache and fatigue dictates that I must go back to the hotel, rather than wait over an hour for the jazz to start. My guidebook hilariously gives me the following advice:
Safety
'Exercise common sense. Don't flaunt your wealth and flash your cash. Don't walk home from a nightclub along dark alleys while draped in bling-bling jewellery or blinking technology. ... Green-uniformed police are supposed to be keeping the peace in the Old Town, although finding one when you need one is like looking for a cucumber in a haystack.'
Duly noted! There are many other excellent tit-bits in the old guide book:
Alcohol
'We don't want to sound like your mum, but it has to be said: Go easy. Lithuanian beer is all light and bright in terms of taste and texture, but packs a punch. It seduces you like Loilta in a summer dress and then takes you down like a body slam from Jabba the Hut. It can even lead gentlemen to go to bed with one and wake up with the other.'
Ha! I'll leave you with their summary of Klaipeda:
'Klaipeda is like the contents of your underwear drawer - always changing, but somehow always the same. And with a few surprising highlights for special occasions.
'In the port area at the mouth of the river there are three new restaurants, a new hotel, a new ferry, some fresh piles of dirt and a fat man with a hard hat and a whistle. By the time you read this, however, anything could have happened there. In the centre of town, things are staying pretty much the same. There's the same relaxed atmosphere and Klaipeda still offers the same quiet fascination. Palanga and Nida are also offering reliability and predictability in their own unique ways. Palanga is still whey-hey, slap-and-tickle, zing-bling and charmless fun, while Nida is still asleep, which is why everyone goes there.'
As I sign off I'm listening to a Lithuanian version of Ronan Keating's greatest hits, and the TV is once more showing the advert for the new old Rod Steward DVD.
I'm looking forward to tomorrow - rehearsals for the semi-final on Friday, and some time to do some sight-seeing and hopefully meet the rest of the competitors. For now it's sleep time, and hope the strip-club clients don't wake me up in the middle of the night. In fact, if I get an early breakfast they'll probably still be going strong.
Klaipeda is an interesting town, but not a great one. Evidently, from the 13th to 19th centuries, it was burnt down repeatedly by war after war, and has never fulfilled the potential it has by being in such a stunning location. By rights, it should be the country's capital (Lithuania is the only Baltic state with its capital inland), but the fate of Klaipeda has been one of resigned failure over the centuries. Even as the only port in Lithuania, in the 1500s it was being visited by only 20-50 boats per year.
This evening we've been invited out to the 'Jazz Klubas.' Either this, or I could stay in my hotel to watch 'Beverlio Hilio Kop(io?)' on the TV. I'm going for the jazz. We've been invited to a meal at 8pm, and I'm the first here at 8:15. I'm shown to a huge room on the top floor of an elaborate pub, laid out with conference-style high-backed chairs. Dinner is brought to me - some sort of meat-tasting soup, and a sausage-thing with coleslaw and potatoes. Two more people arrive. Three more people arrive. They leave. I finish dinner and go downstairs to the basement where there's a jazz club. The organiser of the event has chosen down here to eat his dinner. Not very organised! I haven't really met anyone properly yet - both LA and Georgia are nowhere to be seen.
