The Fuzz

Like any event in the modern world where people of divergent opinions gathered, there lurked the potential for one of those groups of people to beat the crap out of those with the divergent opinions. And so, you get your riot police. The police actually did a great job of respecting everyone's rights to free speech while keeping the two combatant sides separated. They haven't always. In any case, riot police in full gear are a striking sight. The greatest highlight for lovers of irony may be the sign on the left in Latvian, one of several that accuses the Pride parade of sticking the Latvian people with a huge bill for the security costs incurred. Finding the irony involved is left as a basic exercise for the reader.

More from Baltic Pride

A little more from Saturday's Riga Gay Pride parade, which your faithful correspondent covered for his day job. Homosexuality is still controversial enough in Latvia that the city council tried to ban the gay pride parade, and though they were not successful there were still plenty of opponents there to hurl epithets.
As a highly politically charged event, we can't really say a whole lot about it since we were there in our official capacity.

Most of the anti-parade protesters, who outnumbered the participants in the gay pride parade itself, were kept outside the parade grounds by riot police. For some reason unclear to your correspondent, this woman was allowed in, wearing a quasi-habit and a cross tied to her chest. She stood silently blocking the parade route for long stretches, as above, where the marchers to the right have been standing still long enough for the press to conduct an interview. At one point when the parade people decided to just go around her, she feigned that they had knocked her to the ground and wounded her, much to the delight of the gathered press. It was quite a scene.

P.s. We're going on leave for a few days, which would have meant more pictures than words coming up anyway.

21 km

Your correspondent is pictured above, making an ass of himself while running the Riga Half Marathon on Sunday, presented here in perhaps some sort of mental compensation for posting that picture of an anonymous staffer eating a giant steak last week.

The half marathon was a good time, although it's a less festive event than similar occasions might be in the U.S. Thousands showed up for the 5k mini-marathon. Hundreds participated in the half-marathon. Maybe hundreds* took place in the full marathon, which involved multiple laps of a course in Riga's center, and was flat but probably pretty boring. There were a few spectators here and there, and a few brass bands to liven things up. But mostly, there isn't a real culture around running here. It is very rare to see a Latvian running on city streets, as you see in any American city on any morning of the year - exercise here is something you do inside at a gym, if you must. I thought maybe this concept would bring out spectators interested in seeing the freaks out sweating in public, but apparently that would be more sad than fascinating. Then again, they may not have known there would be participants like your correspondent above, going above and beyond to look like idiots.

* editors note: It turns out that several hundred ran the marathon. Our correspondent is not so good at estimating the size of a crowd strung out along 26 miles of road.

Press

This is your faithful correspondent, making small talk with the Canadian Ambassador prior to the Baltic Pride parade in Riga this weekend. Featured (well, buried, but findable) on Delfi, a pretty well-read Latvian web portal. (Do they still call websites with headlines and various general-interest stuff "portals"? Even if they're dead in the U.S., they still have them here.)

Anyway, a busy weekend: more stuff coming soon.

Of Florence: Last bits

Ok, so here's a tourist-style picture of the famous Ponte Vecchio. For some possibly quasi-OCD reason, the publisher feels that upon having four posts in a week about Florence, we ought to round out the week with more Florence, even if there's not much left in that well. And while we're throwing around generally pleasant pictures, the photo editor is quite fond of this picture of The Lovely Katherine waiting in line at the Uffizi, even if (because) she decided not to sit still.

Of Florence: Steak Florentine

We had some delicious food in Florence. On a couple occasions, this involved rare steak, in the Florentine manner. In one of these occasions, it involved a steak so large, they had to warn us that it was a stupid amount of steak for two people, but that was the only size they serve. The anonymous Holla staffer above was maybe not thrilled to have her picture taken with this cut of meat that looked kind of like that big thing of ribs they put on Fred Flintstone's car, tipping it over (if we recall the Flintstones' title sequence correctly). This was, in fact, one half serving, with the staff photographer enjoying the other half. Anyway, the photo has been altered to protect the identities of the innocent.

Of Florence: The Mighty Vespa

The Vespa is a classic of Italian design, and still frequently used in Florence. And probably in Rome, but we don't remember.


There are a lot of other motor scooters out there, and while the staff photographer sat on the side of the bridge trying to get some good panning shots of the traffic zipping by, he captured all variety from tiny scooters to full on touring motorcycles. But sorting through the pictures, the Vespas stand out, even when the blurry pictures reveal the staff photog's limited ability to pull off a panning shot. (For the non-photographers out there, the idea is to move the camera to keep a moving object in focus with the background blurry.)


The other side of things is array of fashions on display. Those scooter riders of Florence wear some colorful shoes. I guess none of the colorful shoes made the cut this time, but there were a lot. Of course, maybe it's just that everyone looks stylish when zipping along on a Vespa.


Because we did not exactly do a lot of planning ahead on this trip, we failed to reserve a timed ticket for the Uffizi gallery before they were sold out. Which, over May Day weekend, meant a three-hour wait in line. We took turns, but the staff photographer definitely came out ahead with a lot of time sitting out on this bridge shooting scooters.

Of Florence: Restraint, or, Unforeseen Budgetary Problems

Your correspondent found these churches, of which there are at least a couple in Florence, striking. This is Italy, home of the Renaissance and the counter-reformation and various soaring cathedrals dedicated to various saints. And yet in Florence, there were some of these churches that, at least from the outside, seem as humble and unadorned as any back-to-basics Protestant church you could find. I suppose the vaulted stone is not as humble as simple clapboard, but there is no towering steeple here.

The Duomo, it turns out, had its original decorations torn down because they were out of fashion. It then took them hundreds of years to finally get around to putting anything new up there. Maybe the same happened here - a grand architectural redesign that is still waiting the money needed for completion. I suspect something of the sort is at play here, but it would be nicer to think that they decided they'd had enough of all the Marys and John the Baptists on their churches and went for something different.

Of Florence: The Duomo

Like a lot of tourists, we took some pictures of the Duomo. And like a lot of tourists, we wound up with a bunch of boring pictures of the Duomo. It's a crazy building and all, but sometimes a picture of a building is just a picture of a building.

The photo editor's favorite is the picture above. As in many matters of aesthetics, it's hard to put a finger on why. I suppose we could say something about the contrast between the static and moving elements, or the surprise of an unexpected element in an otherwise predictable picture. Or maybe we just like old guys on bicycles. And if you're looking for somewhat more predictable or traditional or what have you, see below.

Of Florence: A Picture of a Carousel

I really think it's great that there are some people who apparently have subscribed to the Holla feed or otherwise check in regularly. Maybe even a couple who aren't related to me. Really, thanks. I'm trying to put something interesting here every weekday. But sometimes I just can't (or maybe just don't) keep up with it. If only each of you regular readers would agree to pay me one-tenth of my regular salary, I could quit my day job.

In any case, here is a picture from the Piazza della Repubblica in Florence that turned out actually pretty well given that it was taken with a handheld point-and-shoot camera. But it ain't art. Sorry; it's past the editor-in-cheif's bedtime already.

Of Florence: Mosaics Great and Small

Did you know there is some famous art in Florence? It is true. One can barely walk without stepping on something famous by Michelangelo or Raphael or Donatello or Leonardo and maybe even some decent artist who never had a Ninja Turtle named after him.

Some of the famous pieces are cool to behold in person, and some less so. But it is the editorial policy of this publication that you can never go wrong with an ancient mosaic. Below is a mosaic as big as a house, and above is one as small as a matchbox. Both were awesome.

The Lovely Katherine, for her part, points out that approximately half of all paintings in Florence, whether Gothic or Renaissance, feature a beheading -- which was apparently all the rage back then.

The King of Spain

Hey, look, it's the King of Spain (left)! And the President of Latvia (right)! And some security police guy (center)! King Juan Carlos was in Riga today, spotted at a ceremony opening a Latvian-run, Spanish-built power station today on the outskirts of the city. Your correspondent never got closer than twenty yards or so, but the staff photographer is about to turn in his resignation and give it a go as a freelance paparazzo.

Of Florence!

No time to say more for now. We'll be publishing late again tomorrow, but hopefully with something interesting from Florence other than a hip dude on a tiny bicycle. We can't promise it will be better, but since this is the only dude on a tiny bicycle that was captured on film, we can promise it will be something different.

Flowers

After Latvia beat Switzerland in the World Hockey Championships, your correspondent followed the crowd to witness a local tradition. After an international hockey victory, Latvian hockey fans gather in front of their vanquished foe's embassy in Riga, where they lay flowers as if in condolences or mourning. The staff photographer tried to get some pictures, but it was dark, and nobody was very interested in standing still. There was a lot of jumping around and shouting and general celebrating, and a lot fewer flowers than we expected, although upon our departure there were still plenty of people just arriving, like the two pictured above. I guess people don't buy entire bouquets just to throw at an office tower that happens to have the Swiss Embassy as a tenant, but things might be different if they win a quarterfinal game this week.

Hockey Night in Rezekne

Your correspondent and a local guide were dispatched for a research trip to beautiful Latgale, in eastern Latvia, along the Russian border. It was actually a very interesting trip and we met some great people and learned a lot, which is kind of the point of your correspondent's day job.

In the evening, the trusty local guide was dedicated to finding a decent television to watch the World Championships of Hockey. I'm not talking about the NHL: Although you wouldn't know it by reading ESPN.com or Yahoo Sports, there is a world-cup tournament happening right now. (If you are interested, the U.S. is doing ok, while Latvia managed to beat the Swedes for the first time ever and advance to the next round.) It's apparently not a big deal in the U.S., which is sort of too bad, because it is clearly a big deal here.

On Monday night in Rezekne, we went searching for a bar where we could watch the (admittedly great) Latvia/Sweden game. Unfortunately many of the bars within walking distance had mirrored windows, were open 24 hours a day, and advertised slot machines prominently on the outside. Not being interested in these places where gambling or some other unsavory activity would happen, we made our way to Rezekne's other major hotel, which had a bar with a TV, pictured above. That is your correspondent using the table as a tripod to capture the scene. And yes, to the right, that is a pole of the variety that might be used by an exotic dancer. Not that there were any strippers working that night: It didn't seem to be laid out such that there ever would be; maybe the pole is there for the convenience of patrons? In any case, even if we didn't really find a U.S.-style "sports bar," the game was entertaining enough to carry the evening, and the pole was never put to use.

Stork Season

Like the Canada Geese returning to crap all over Greeley for another year, except somehow better (maybe because the don't crap in Riga's parks), the storks have returned to Latvia.

All year round, one can see stork nests dotting the countryside. As I have heard it, it is illegal to damage or knock down a stork nest. And apparently, Storks love nothing more than putting their nests on top of telephone poles. Perhaps more accurately, they loved to put their nests on telephone poles thirty years ago. As progress put up new, somehow better telephone poles and knocked down the old ones, progress was prevented from knocking down those poles with stork nests. As a result, there are random, lonely poles along the roadsides all over Latvia, solitarily holding up storks' nests.

On a recent trip to the East of Latvia, this nest was spotted with a pair of storks apparently mating. Violently. They kept falling out of the nest, and then would fly off in a big circle and land back in the nest and wrestle some more and then fall out again. Eventually they fell out and I guess they were done because they just sat there on the ground. Maybe if they didn't put the nest on the top of a telephone pole, it would be a little easier.

P.s. Sorry we messed up some of the pictures earlier this week. They're fixed now if you want to go back and look.

Red, Yellow

We did not partake of either the mysteriously red cabbage or the mysteriously yellow cabbage on offer at the market. Some subtleties of the local cuisine may remain unknown through our entire time here.

He who controls the spice, controls the universe

Kind of a fun way to buy spices, stored loose in rows of little plastic trays. If you want some cumin, for example, you just have to tell the friendly lady how many grams of cumin you want. Which means you have to have some idea in your head of how much one of those little jars' worth of cumin might weigh, and then (for some of us) convert it to metric. It's way better than how they do it in America.

The Central Market

Some pictures from a while ago. We may not be ready to do this every-day posting thing, and the Day Job is taking us away from the Holla offices for a couple days.

Anyway, the Riga Central Market is found in a series of huge arched buildings that were originally designed to be zeppelin hangars. No, really. Now they are home to the cheapest vegetables, fish, and cheese to be found in the city.

Of Moscow: Four Scenes from the Metro

The Moscow Metro is maybe the best in the world. It's certainly the best we've been on.


It's beautiful. Most of the central stations are spacious and gorgeously decorated. Some of the art seems a bit silly now; there's a lot of Lenin and a lot of happy workers and farmers being productive. But the craftsmanship is still amazing, and whole stations are cohesively designed. It makes one feel sad about the cruddy, lonely attempts at public art that are dropped into metro stations in the U.S.


It's fast. We took it everywhere and never had to wait more than a couple minutes for a train, any time of day or evening.


It's dangerously crowded at rush hour. One train every two minutes tops, more than 10 lines with stations everywhere, and they're still full. Which is fine, but then a train full of people have to squeeze onto two escalators every minute, which means the whole station fills with a shuffling line for the escalator. So, best in the world, but still not perfect. Did we mention that it's beautiful?

Of Moscow: Best Bar in Town

We tried to find a good bar on our last day in town, to relax for a little bit before sitting in the truly world-class traffic on the way out to the airport. But Moscow doesn't seem to do bars. If you want to go somewhere and buy a beer, you can go to a restaurant and pay too much, or I suppose you can go to a club and pay way, way too much. Luckily, we happened upon what we're sure is the best bar in town. Pictured above is one of the many, many kiosks that offers a broad variety of beers for sale on the street by the single bottle. We bought a couple and enjoyed them hanging out by the entrance to the Metro. As much as we would like to claim credit, your correspondents did not come up with this idea on our own. In fact, there was a great river of people heading down into the Metro, and at any point 25 or 30 of them were taking a break from the commute, just hanging out near the stairway, having a beer. The people watching was fantastic; the sun was shining; the beer was cheap (ridiculously cheap by Moscow standards): It was clearly the best bar in Moscow, and maybe the world.

Of Moscow: Matrushkas

We sort of thought we would get an authentic Russian matrushka or nesting doll as a souvenir of Moscow. But they are mostly actually kind of gaudy. Then The Lovely Katherine decided she wanted an icon we found that featured Saint Christopher, who apparently had a horse's head, which is maybe from a Bible story I don't remember so well. But it was too expensive. Oh, well.

Of Moscow: Four Seasons

Coming soon to the heart of communism, a new Four Seasons hotel, featuring views of St. Basil's.

Of Mosow: Continued

We are kind of busy right now with non-Holla related issues. So, today, a somewhat behind-schedule photo from Moscow, and probably more Moscow the rest of this week.

There was some sort of memorial or veterans' remembrance going on at their Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, so traffic was closed off on this street leading up to Red Square. We also saw a changing of the guard, which involved some serious goose-stepping, but nothing as goofy as the Greek one.

Of Moscow: Red Square

It's been 17 years since the collapse of the Soviet Union, but it was still a little odd to stand in Red Square, the heart of the one-time "Evil Empire," well-known from movies and as a backdrop for journalists reporting from the darkest heart of communism.

The square is huge and the cathedral is crazy, as expected. The greatest disappointment of our trip was that Lenin's Tomb was closed because Lenin is in the shop getting his oil changed or something.

The communist spirit lives on there, I guess. In the square, at least one side of which should be lined with cafes where you can sit under an umbrella and have a coffee while taking in the scene, there is not much commerce going on. Cross just outside the square, and it's a different story. One side of the square is now a high-end mall, with a Four Seasons hotel under construction. And just outside the main entrance to the square, any number of tchotchke sellers are at work, along with an array of look-alikes who you can have your picture taken with in front of the square. I guess I see the kitsch value in having your picture taken with a guy who looks kind of like Napoleon outside the walls of the Kremlin. And while I don't see why anyone would want to have their picture taken with a faux mass-murderer like Stalin, but given that the guy next to him was dressed as a bear wearing a t-shirt that says "Russia," I guess you could say it's not necessarily a symbol of great respect.

of Moscow: Crapdogs

A small illustration of yesterday's comment about the fun of being able to sound out Cyrillic and only sometimes know the words. The above picture is The Lovely Katherine chugging a liter carton of apple juice in front of a hot dog stand. But don't worry about that -- just look at the sign on the stand, above the smiley hot-dog monster. It mostly kind of looks like "crapdogs," no? Well, being experts on reading Cyrillic, we can tell it actually says "starbogs." Maybe our cyrillic isn't actually so good. Anyway, I think all in all, they are shooting for "Stardogs," although a quick google of "crapdogs moscow" certainly suggests your correspondents were not the first to tap this comedy goldmine.

Of Moscow

They have crazy letters that aren't like the ones you and I are used to. We don't speak Russian, but your correspondents know the Cyrillic alphabet well enough to sound out words. It's fun to sound out some 15-letter-long Russian word, especially on billboards or signs where cognates are more likely, and one gets a little thrill out of realizing that it's a recognizable concept. Soo-pyer-mahr-kiet... supermarket! It must be like what a child learning to read for the first time feels. Of course, most of the words remain cryptic, despite reading them aloud again and again, but that didn't stop us. What can we say -- we're hooked on фоникс.

Of Prague: Port-a-viny

I think this means "Wine Store" in Czech.

Of Prague: Apropos of Nothing

Seen in Prague. We're still celebrating Easter here, office-wise.

Of Prague: Bonus Easter Holla!

There was some sort of Easter festival happening while we were in Prague. There were little markets selling elaborately painted eggs and these delicious pastry things shaped like barrels and baked wrapped around a rolling pin. There was also a stage, where traditional (I presume) Czech dancing and singing happened. A polite observer might say that to a modern observer, there are strong similarities between many of the Central and Eastern European nations' traditional folk dances. At least the Latvian ones don't seem to often feature children attempting to sing.


There was also traditional food, which, not unlike some other parts of Central and Eastern Europe, involved a lot of sausages.


There were also olden days costumes in evidence, which were, in fact, refreshingly not at all like the ones in Latvia.

Of Prague: 20th Century Glass

Happy Good Friday! Here's some religious art to celebrate. But Modern, of course, as befits the Holla's hip contemporary outlook.

Riga is noted as having some of the best Art Nouveau architecture in Europe. Nothing against Riga, but this might be because Prague does so much stuff so well that it's easy to overlook all the Art Nouveau going on there. For example, this Czech fellow Alfons Mucha. Think of a an Art Nouveau picture - I bet you're thinking of something he did. Or you're not thinking of anything, but we'll let that slide. Anyway, the guy was Czech, and after rising to fame in Paris, returned to Prague to create nationalist art in his distinctive style, such as this window in Prague's most prominent cathedral, perhaps since nationalism was also pretty hip in early 20th-century Europe. In any case, I'd seen the guy's art probably about a million times but never knew who he was until now -- another broadening travel experience.

Of Prague: Or at least nearby Plzen

Our friends who we met in Prague had a car with them, spending their vacation driving around Germany mostly. Once the car was parked, it needed to mostly stay parked, so we took but one day trip outside the city. After a few days of mostly sitting olde-style beer halls and drinking delicious Czech beer, there was only one option for a day trip: Go to a small town and drink delicious Czech beer. So it was that we found ourselves in Plzen, town for which Pilsener beer around the world is named, and more specifically home of Pilsner Urquell. We took a tour of their facility, which has some very cool old copper tanks they don't use any more, and some big modern copper tanks they do use, and a big modern bottling facility. And a silly movie about how great their ingredients are and how dedicated to quality their brewmaster is, just like the movie you see at Miller brewery in Milwaukee.

It was fine, but seemed maybe not to have been worth the drive, until the tour went down into the labyrinth of huge cellars where they used to cool the beer in casks in the olden days, before refrigeration was quite so easy. They still make some unfiltered, unpasteurized beer there, using the olden days methods, of which beer paying visitors are allowed a small sample. Surely the atmosphere added a bit, drinking in a hand-dug cavern full of giant barrels of beer and creepy recently added electric lighting and cooling systems, but it was maybe one of the tastiest dixie cups of beer your correspondent has ever tasted. We went out for a meal in the town of Plzen just afterwards, but the Pilsner Urquell tasted about the same there as it did in Prague.

The above picture, by the way, was taken illicitly without flash while the tour guide wasn't looking. Please don't tell on us.

Of Prague: One Million Spanish Teenagers

Yes, one million. Your correspondent lost count at several hundred, but using advanced methods of sampling, can say with 95% certainty that there were one million teenage kids from the Mediterranean in tour groups in Prague the weekend we were there. Some of them might have been Italian. But many of them yelled a lot, and when they did, it was often in Spanish.

This is a picture from a centuries-old Jewish graveyard, packed so tight with headstones that they are leaning up against one another, ancient and crooked and mossy. Fortunately, your correspondent had to share only half of the time he was there with thirty Spanish high-schoolers who seemed to be vaguely interested in Prague and unsurprisingly more interested in each other.

The center of the city was almost unpleasantly full of tourists. No doubt, that's what keeps the city's economy afloat, but given how full it felt in March, I would not want to be there in August, no matter how charming the city may be.

Of Prague

OK, so a week ago or so, we were in Prague. That is one atmospheric city. Have you been? You should. They apparently did a really good job of not getting their stuff blown up over the last hundred years, so they still have lots of old Gothic and baroque stuff. Also: Great beer. Also also: A Foreign Service friend-of-a-friend who let us stay with her and therefore save all that hotel money for more overpriced (for Prague, but still a bargain compared to Washington, where overpriced is standard) beer at sidewalk cafes with views of cool old buildings.

The Lovely Katherine was concerned that today's Prague wouldn't hold up to her mid-1990's memories of it. Maybe it did, and maybe it didn't; but there's certainly something to be said for traveling while at a station in life that the dirt-cheapness of the beer isn't one's primary concern.

Spring!

Warning: There was no professional camera operator around, so this video may cause motion sickness. Also, the only sound is the wind whistling past the microphone, so you might want to turn the sound down to, say, zero if you're going to watch. It does not have a beginning, a middle, and an end.


I think maybe it's really Spring here. We will surely have some more cold days, but we have had several warm days in a row. Your correspondents rode on bicycle to the seaside town of Jurmala, which cleverly means in Latvian "Seaside." It seemed that all of Latvia was there. While I admit that it was still not warm enough for swimsuits and laying out, there were a lot of people wearing a lot of clothes at the beach. The most striking being the shocking number of Latvian women who are apparently so dedicated to looking good wherever they go that they wore spike heels to walk along the beach. Some of them even managed to walk rather than hobble, sort of. We wish you could see more in the video, but I assure you that the woman appearing at the very beginning on the left of the screen was not at all alone or out of place.

Leftover Madona

Race fans.

Editors note: We're trying to go back to hosting things on Flickr, but linking directly, as a service for whatever small fraction of people are interested in clicking on pictures to see them bigger without having to go to Flickr itself and without all the jaggies and low-resolutionizing that Blogger does to things.

Anyway, coming soon: Stuff from Prague! Photographs! Words, maybe!

Stairway to Nothing

The Arsenals Art Museum. It's a long climb to an unknown reward. (In this case, the reward was an exhibit of paintings of Riga's bridges.)

Spring?

This is an aspirational photo, in that it is actually from last summer when everything was leafy and green in Riga. We're not there yet. In fact, we're not close. But we have made some steps from daily painful cold to mere daily unpleasant cold. We've even have a couple days that might qualify as merely brisk. Also, we don't have any new pictures ready to post yet. Also also: sorry that half the content here in the last couple weeks has been about the lack of content.