It all began when I said I am a fag hag.
My Travel Friends
I had met a lovely Canadian girl - Tanya - on my Russian tour, and as we were planning on travelling through Eastern Europe at the same time, we decided to go together. Along the way we met a charming Canadian guy - Adrian - and the three of us spent an enjoyable day and a half in Tallinn, Estonia, which I heartily recommend to anyone. Its a gem of a teensy city, full of cobblestones, beautiful facades, and funky cafes.
It was in one of these funky cafes that I mentioned my numerous gay friends and my affection for their company. Adrian then raised the fact that there was a gay American guy in his dorm room. I expressed interest in meeting him (after all, it had been a good two weeks I hadn't been in the company of a gay man, I was suffering withdrawals!). So, he kindly arranged to invite the gay guy, Jason, to dinner with us the next evening.
Within minutes, I was cackling with side-splitting laughter. What is it about gay men, they just amuse me so.
Adrian, Tanya and I had been planning on travelling to Riga in Latvia the next day, and discovered its cheaper and infinitely more comfortable to hire a car and drive ourselves rather than go via coach or train. So when Adrian invited Jason to join us on our road trip, we had a ready made group made for fun!
Start of the road trip
The next morning, after only 4 hours sleep (Tanya and I HAD to sample Estonian nightlife the evening before! very fun!), we wake up to a wet grey dreary morning. Not so great. Then we see the car that we were to travel in. Yellow. Bright New-York cab-type yellow. Not so great. We piled into the vehicle, and thus began our road trip from Tallinn to Riga via the Lahmea National Park and Tartu.
After several wrong turns (yes, I was directing, but it was the fault of the maps, they were just so unclear!), we finally made it onto the highway, and progressed through the plummeting rain. Jason thankfully kept us in hysterics - imagine a slimmer Jack from 'Will & Grace' with glasses, and you have Jason. He works for British Airways (of course), but is on his way to Azerbaijan (yes, supposedly it is a country!) to volunteer for the United Nations democratic election supervisory committee... and he speaks fluent German. Handy.
Anyway, we get to the Lahmea National Park, which Lonely Planet assures us is pictureque, but unfortunately on this day was just wet and murky. However, we insist on driving into one of the coastal villages, hopefully to find something to see, and a toilet. Instead, we find everything boarded up for the winter, and desolate (and no toilet). However, we do find a walking trail through the woods, and Adrian (our designated driver) proceeds to insist upon driving down it rather quickly... off-roading Estonian style, apparently. It was the epitome of a modern-day hike, a bush-drive if you will.
Arriving into Riga
Anyway, we eventually accept that the rain will not clear, and abandon any hopes of exploring the national park outside of the car. We drive on to Tartu, through many a funny named Estonian town (think of a cross between Finnish and Russian words, and you have Estonian). We stop for food in Tartu (a pretty little university town), and then head for the Estonian-Latvian border crossing. We get a little lost just before the border, and need to stop to ask for directions. We sidle up in the car to what appears to be a policeman, and I whisper to Jason "Don't be too American!". So Jason begins with "Te're" - the Estonian word for "Hello", and to my surprise speaks in a very even neutral accent. We get guided appropriately over the border.
We eventually make it into Riga, Latvia, in the driving rain and murky darkness. We make an attempt to enter the old town to our hostel, only to find they have exceeded London's Congestion Charge fee, and charge a whopping 5Euros per HOUR to enter the old town. We decide, unsurprisingly, not to enter. Instead we come up with the brilliant idea of all driving to the car drop-off point, then collectively catching a cab to the hostel. Brilliant. On the way to where we think the Agency is, Jason gives directions that turn lead us not onto a road, but onto a tram track... a one-way tram track, with us going the wrong way! Adrian appears to consider reversing, but when Jason said in a flummox "Wrong way... but we'll have a longer way to go if we don't go down this route...", Adrian went off-roading for a second time that day, and accelerated along the cobblestones accompanied by the shrieks of the female passengers! We passed a tram full of people gawking at our little vehicle, but before anyone could notice, we were onto a normal road again.
Returning the hire car
Jason then pulls out the car rental agency address, and informs us confidently its on "Ganibudambis"... which was met with hysterical laughter from the vehicle as we were certain he was simply speaking gibberish. To our immense shock, when we read the street sign, we found that "Ganibu Dambis" was indeed a street name, and we spent the next 24 hours repeating the hilarious sounding street name and falling into giggly piles. However, finding the desired street wasn't enough... we then had to find the Agency. We had the street number, but couldn't find any clear signs for it on the busy wet dark road. We drove up and down a few times, to no avail. We then noticed the alley ways off the main road, so thought the Agency might be located down one of them. We drove down, with trepidation as the dark dingy alley reminded us of those horror movie scenes when cars full of sweet normal people disappear forever. Due to the darkness and rain, we had to travel with our windows down if we were to have any chance of reading the signs we slowly drove past. All of a sudden, my heart stopped! We were being attacked by a white monster!! I screamed in horror! Only to find the white monster was a large ferocious Alsation dog about to leap through my window to devour me! I frantically struggled to wind the window back up, waiting for the frantic dog to jump in and kill me... I made it just in time! Of course, the dog was chained up, but my imagination (and that of everyone in the car) went haywire amidst the scary ambience of the alleyway.
We drove past the dog, further into the alleyway, and found a burly looking man standing suspiciously by a dimly lit door. Our hearts were beating, our nerves told us to turn back, but we were utterly lost, tired, and had no idea where to go. So we sidled up to the man, and Adrian called out "You wouldn't by any chance speak English?", which was met with a look of complete noncomprehension. We were about to collapse in despair, when Jason popped out with "вы говорите русского", or "Do you speak Russian?" as we later found out... yes, indeed, our little gay companion apparently studied russian for two years and could speak it fluently. And as Latvia until 13 years ago was a Russian state, almost everyone can speak it, so we were in luck! The dodgy man and Jason spoke in Russian to each other, and lo and behold, we were given directions that helped us find the Agency!
Jason and Adrian leave us girls in the car (nice and dry, very chivalrous) to go into the Agency to find out what we had to do. They were closed so we were told to organise key drop-off with the night guard. Waiting in the car, Tanya and I started to tell each other urban myths about axe murderers jumping up and surprising people in cars in dark Baltic towns, and managed to work ourselves up into a slight hysteria, when we saw the boys bolting back to us across the car park! We were terrified! Of course, the boys were just running to make us panic... it was all ok.
Jason jumped into the car and said breathlessly: "You wouldn't believe what just happened! We went in, found the night-guard, and I asked him if he spoke English. And would you believe it, the man looked blankly at me and said 'Seulement français!'. What on Earth is a frenchman doing in Latvia?!". "So what did you do??" I urgently asked, praying that the drama was soon to be over. "Well," Jason said, "I asked him to order us a cab to take 4 people and luggage...". "What?!", I exclaimed, "you speak French as well??". "A little...", Jason said with a shy grin.
So it seems, throughout the day, Jason could speak whatever language was required to get us out of every tight situation. What a man! Honestly, a gay man is a woman's most essential travel accessory. I can't believe I've contemplated travelling without one!
No comments:
Post a Comment