JUNE 4 - Sunny day, much warmer than yesterday. Get early ferry to the Curonian Spit and catch a bus all the way to the end (of the Lithuanian part), to a town called Nida. Contrary to what one might think, this 2 km wide stretch of sand dunes out at sea is thickly vegetated over its entire length, with some quite tall trees. This wasn’t always the case, as is described later.
The few towns along this densely forested spit are very smartly done up, with traditional flourishes on the gables and patios. Nowhere did I see any rotting cement Soviet-era structures (though they did exist here at one time). Some newer dunes are present, with either just grasses or small trees, and a few active dunes with pure sand. The active ones move west to east with the prevailing winds off the Baltic. Nida is a serious tourist town, with numerous small restaurants and rental homes. Still, it is possible to get away from the crowds (mostly Lithuanians out for the weekend as it is Saturday). I’m guessing that the real crowds show up in July and August.
The look of a town like Nida belies its history, which we see in great detail on a huge diorama just south of the ferry dock (ferries to Klaipėda do not operate for another few weeks). Reading it, one wonders why people took the effort to live here. Whatever the pre-human state of the spit, it is clear that it was eventually denuded it of trees during construction of villages in medieval times. This meant that the Baltic winds must have been strong across the entirety of the spit, shifting the sand constantly (as there were no roots to hold it in place) and making people move every so often to avoid being buried. The town of Nida was threatened with burial in early 1700’s, and the people were forced to move en masse to its current location in 1732 (only the concerted planting efforts by many people, over the course of the last 100 years or so, has brought the forests back, hence a stabilization of the sand). Naturally the main source of food was fish, but due to the sea ice cover in winter, people were often forced to catch crows for food if the ice stayed late in the spring. Early homes had front doors composed of two independent swinging parts, the bottom part could remain closed in the event that sand piled up against it.
Head south to the main dune area by Nida, called the Kuršių Nerija National Park. This is a massive set of superimposed dunes, the same ones that buried the old Nida town. It is about 2 km from the border with Kaliningrad Oblast, the Russian enclave mentioned in Day 61. We spend several hours climbing around here. Most areas can be hiked across, except for steep slopes where ‘people erosion’ would accelerate the movement process.
So, when here you are introduced to the legend of the Giant girl, Neringa. This legend speaks of the time before people, when giants lived on the Curonian Spit, and the dunes lived in harmony with its inhabitants. However, the girl Neringa was disobedient and stepped all over the place with her huge feet, disturbing the sacred areas. As a result, the dunes mobilized and began moving around the spit, crushing the towns before them and generally causing havoc.
On our way back to Nida, there was some cultural event going on in the water. We had noticed a number of boards with handles sticking out of the water earlier, and I assumed they had something to do with practicing some water sport. Now, a group of men in costumes were out there, beating on the handles with sticks, in unison. A group of women was on shore, putting on black and white costumes that looked a little like nun’s habits. Unfortunately, we were already late to get one of the only buses out this afternoon, and could not stay to figure out what was going on.
In our hurried search to find food before getting on the bus, I trip over a metal umbrella support that is just sitting by itself on the sidewalk. Really pummel myself on the sidewalk, hitting my head as I roll to the side while falling. Horribly painful, but it is a lot better by the time we eat some rolls and are on the bus. Will have a mark on my forehead for some time. Having little accidents like this is scary while traveling. One almost never knows what medical attention can be sought within a reasonable distance, in the event it is required.
Disembark at Juodkrantė, another small town about halfway down the spit. Also a picture perfect village, strung out along the shore of the bay. Here the main objective is to visit the Hill of Witches (Raganų kalnas). This is essentially an open-air museum of oak carvings, that began appearing on an old parabolic paleo-dune near the town. The intention was to use this beautiful area to showcase the Lithuanian tradition of woodcarving. There are about 80 carvings along a trail that winds through the hills, all depicting characters from local folklore or pagan tradition.
From here we exit out to Juokrantė again, and wander up the coastline.
