A wet day's pedalling and half a wet day

Tuesday 28th, leaving Nica for Rucava.  The booking included breakfast

Three individual omelettes along with two insipid looking sausages but hot and tasty, then there was the cold selection, cheese, ham a salad assortment and a selection of fruit, pear, banana and apple, coffee and orange juice.  It fair set me up for a wet day's pedalling.

Back on the A11 it was head down and keep pushing; ignore the big trucks, I doubt I'd know much about it if one hit me and there was always the bit of slipstream as they went by!

No pics en route, they would only have been wet road, spray or the backs of lorries.

By Rucava church was a memorial to those who suffered under the Soviet rule.

The place I stayed in Rucava, Saktas Guest House, was a quaint sort of spot, I arrived mid afternoon, propped my bike against the house and knocked on the door, inside there was what sounded like a coffee grinder working at full power, I knocked again, no joy, I walked round the house peering through windows, still no joy and still raining.  As I turned to go back to my bike the grinding noise stopped, I knocked again.  This time there was some shuffling about and the door opened; A guy of indeterminate age sporting an old jacket, trilby and muffler peered out.  "Ah well, here we go" I thought.  "I've got a booking for tonight"  A big smile broke out showing more gold teeth than real ones, "Yes, yes  my wife here in three" and pointed at his watch, "Three hour"  (I think it was decided he meant Three o'clock).

However, he took a key from behind the door and wandered down the garden path to a big shed/workshop, "Bike, come".  So bike went.  I grabbed the one bag I needed, he locked up and led me back to the house.

I'm not sure what I expected but inside everything was virtually new, laminate floors throughout, modern kitchen and bathroom.  Marie, the lady of the house had been visiting friends and was back a few minutes after three,  She came to check that hubby had done the right things and gave me another tour of the house.  She went on to make a pot of tea, brought out the biscuits and a dish of dried cranberries (from her garden and prepared by herself.  Fully tea'd, biscuite'd and cranberrie'd I was left to my own devices, which meant crashing out in a comfy chair.

About six o'clock she rattled on my door, "Soupa?"  "You bicycle in wet you like soupa?"  "Oh yes please"  and down in the kitchen she ladled out a big bowl of chicken and veg soup, very nice indeed.

This morning, 29th, I was up and away at 0730, the day looked like a repeat of the day before, back on to the A11 and head down.  3.5km was the longest straight piece of road I measured this morning,  I find it soul destroying to see headlights appear in the far distance and it's ages before the vehicle goes by, I have to sing, swear or play counting games but not keep looking ahead.

Brake lights?  All the vehicles are slowing and seem to be steering around something.  Getting closer, it's a big traffic island.  Ah it's the frontier, Lithuania here I come.

A few more kilometres of what is now the A13 and I take a turning for Sventoji.  Definitely time for breakfast

Ham and cheese omelette and a pot of green tea, I needed the liquid!

Time to check up on the Baltic again

Yep, still there.

That's some serious church and there's a cross on top as well.

Next task, find three young ladies!!

The Fisherman's Daughters, watching for Dad's boat.  They took some finding as well.

Absolutely magic.

The bike trail from Sventloji to Palanga was equally magic, for bikes and walkers

One or two posh properties along the way as well.

Baltic's still there

Marking Naglis Hill, a 15 metre dune, legend has it that when Naglis, an ancient warrior died his grieving widow piled the sand over his body with her bare hands.  In the 15th and 16th centuries Naglis Hill was a sacred place.

Jurate and Kastytis

The Pier

The main street

One for son Philip

Where I'm at tonight and tomorrow night.