Today we have only a stone’s throw to go: about 110 km or two hours to Klaipeda, a harbour and cultural city in Lithuania. Previously, we tried to moor at Palanga; Palanga is THE Lithuanian summer holiday destination with many kilometres of white sandy beaches, lots of people and a lively atmosphere – but there is no mooring for us! Although there is a pier for larger boats, and one could simply run up to the sandy coast like the many water scooters, we prefer not to do that with a view of the underwater relief.
Many people come to Palanga by bus from Klaipeda, but also from all over Lithuania. There is still enormous tourist potential here! – But now to Klaipeda itself; with more than 150,000 inhabitants, this city is almost as big as Basel (it also seems to be a cultural centre, with a large sculpture park and top-class opera festivals) and is making a great effort to make itself recognisable to the outside world. But who knows Klaipeda?
All three Baltic states do not really succeed in drawing attention to themselves – on the one hand, they are each too small and economically insignificant, on the other hand, they can never appear together because each country speaks a completely different language, has different cultural backgrounds and also because they do not like each other very much.
On entering Klaipeda, we are initially ‘greeted’ somewhat gruffly over the radio and instructed to do this and that, but apparently they quickly checked us internally (via AIS?) and now welcome us without any checks. Even in the shops, the somewhat rude manner from Soviet times seems to have survived: Instead of being served, we are snubbed, reprimanded and ordered around by the staff. But often it is enough, as Martina says, to be a bit ‘blonde’, to stop and wait… On the interpersonal level, however, communication is pleasantly open and uncomplicated; people are cordial and help spontaneously. Our harbour master was also a bit gruff at first, but soon softens up (Martina!) and provides us with tips and hints that are ultimately worth their weight in gold. For example, we learn how we have to sail around the Russian enclave of Kaliningrad the next day to get to Gdansk without any problems, and beware: that the only local supplier of petrol for shipping sells poor quality (he buys leftover stocks from the Finnish army that have been stored for years and can no longer be used in an emergency). So, with the help of his unknown colleague, his vehicle and two 25-litre jerry cans, we start hauling petrol from the petrol stations on the outskirts of town to the ArgoFram and pumping it over – an exercise that keeps us, the colleague and the harbour master on our toes from eleven o’clock at night until three in the morning with around 600 litres to fill up. Better to roll up our sleeves a bit now than to be stuck in the middle of the Baltic Sea tomorrow. What luck we had here!
In Klaipeda, too, we enter the heart of the city. And here, too, a multitude of entertainment options, event halls and concert venues awaited us near the marina. The most beautiful, however, was the nearby former shipyard, reduced to its load-bearing elements, where the soon to be held opera festival is being rehearsed: Throughout the day, the highest notes were sung in preparation for the upcoming performances; Richard Wagner’s ‘The Flying Dutchman’ will be played, how fitting! – The events are said to be sold out; 1’500 guests will attend this production every evening, a huge success is in the offing. The singers are conscientious professionals, and we enjoy vocal masterpieces live with piano accompaniment (as an orchestra substitute), first on site itself (see video) and later on the ArgoFram during dinner at sunset!