August 15, 1998, Saturday

By 7 a.m. when the doors to the morning buffet opened I was the first to enter. My breakfast had to be a rush job because my6 bus was scheduled to leave at 8:15 a.m. The taxi dropped me off at the bus station and I waited only a short while for my bus. We were on our way with me sitting in the front seat where I could watch the scenery through the front window. There were two fellows operating the bus, a driver and a conductor. One man drove half way and then the other took the wheel.

We crossed into Lithuania with no problems at the border and arrived at the Vilnius bus station late morning. There was no line of taxis like in Riga. In the street outside the station one was parked with the driver eating his lunch. He drove me clear across town to the Balatonis Hotel, which was not in the town center, to my disappointment. This error for the long ride was 28 litas which relates to five dollars so taxi fares were cheap. The manager said it would cost about two dollars to old town, where all the tour is still. He said there was a festival in progress.

The taxi driver dropped me at the festival grounds. There was a throng milling about. It was much like our Olympia Lake fair with booths selling food crafts and souvenirs and there were rides, but nothing was sophisticated. There was a simple ball in the cup game but none of the fancy carnival games that we have. There was a bandstand where gate where first clowns were performing and later a band of about 20 played at first marching music and then real peppy jazz music. Like New Orleans and when the Saints come marching in. Many in the crowd were swaying to the music.

At one booth a woman was ladling out white chunky dough onto a hot griddle and frying them into large patties. After ordering to patties are a sat at a table. The patties tasted like potato pancakes. A couple asked me if they could sit at my table. He was a well-built man about 60 named Zed. She was named Sophia and was in her early 50s. Zed had been a mechanic and a Soviet plant that had shutdown. He said no one would hire him because he was too old. He was bitter about it and blamed the KBG for his troubles. He had stopped looking for work and said his troubles would be over when he was 6 feet under. He could speak no English. Sophia was a musician playing with a large band that 10 years ago had played all over the world such as Russia, China, England, Canada and so forth. They no longer did so because the money situation had tightened up all over the world. She still played with the orchestra but made less than 100 the toes a week, about $25.

They wanted me to walk through the old town with them to show me the sights. But after walking a short distance I climbed into a taxi and returned to the hotel. Sophia seemed all right but I did not quite trust Zed. He was a bitter loser who would probably like to see communism back so he could get paid for doing nothing.