Twelve Hours in Riga, in all its colour and beauty

Riga is the capital of Latvia, one of the 3 remaining Baltic States of Northern Europe. The Latvian people formed from an amalgamation of the ancient tribes of the Couronians, Semigallians, Selonians, Livs and Latgallians. Land borders didn’t really begin to settle until independence in 1918, and modern-day Latvia only started to thrive in 1991. Before this, the Latvian people have been under the control of Poland/Lithuania, Sweden, Germany, Russia, Nazi Germany and (from 1944 to 1991) the Soviet Empire.

I arrived in Riga early in the morning on a red-eye flight from St Petersburg. With limited funds after 18 months of travel and Russia restricting cheap European airlines, I selected the cheapest flight from St Petersburg that I could find. I was keen to make the most of the 12 hours until my flight to Ireland and expand on my very limited knowledge of Latvia.

Founded as a port town in 1201, Riga has been an independent state, a key centre of the Hanseatic League, the largest provincial town in Sweden, and the third-largest city in Russia. Its centre is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, widely recognised as having the finest collection of art nouveau buildings in Europe. The Old Town comprises 3 different zones – a relatively well-preserved medieval core, a 19th-century semi-circle of boulevards on both sides of the city canal, and the former 18th and 19th-century network of streets and wooden suburban architecture.

A tour of the old town

The tour of Old Riga started with ‘Milda’, the freedom monument unveiled in 1935. The monument depicts Latvian culture and history and is, somewhat strangely, modelled on a Lithuanian woman called Milda Jasikienė. The friezes around the sculpture’s base depict Latvians singing, working and fighting for their freedom, while the 3 stars in the maiden’s hands represent the three historical Latvian regions. It miraculously survived Soviet rule, and to this day, locals place flowers at the base of the monument, an act for which people were deported to Siberia during Soviet times.

Turning around, I stood at the base of a yellow-brown clock, a meeting place for Latvians since it was erected by social democrats in 1924 so people wouldn’t be late for work. For decades, it has also advertised Laima chocolate. Satiekamies pie Laimas pulksteņa – let’s meet at the Laima clock!

Two of the older structures on the walk were the Powder Tower and the Swedish Gate.

Dating back to the start of the 14th century, Swedish troops destroyed the original Powder Tower in 1621. Rebuilt in 1650 with walls over 2.5 metres thick, it later survived 9 Russian cannonballs embedded in its walls by cheeky masons.

The Swedish Gate (Zviedru Vārti) was originally built in 1698 to celebrate the Scandinavian occupation. The apartment at the top belonged to the city executioner or bende, who would put a red rose on the window ledge on the morning before a head rolled.

On either side of the Swedish Gate were beautiful examples of Rigan streets. The first image below is Aldaru, built between the 13th and 16th centuries but restored during Soviet times (hence the ‘new’ appearance). On the other side of the gate is Trokšņu, one of Riga’s narrowest streets.

Churches of Riga

The first church I arrived at was St Jacob’s Church, first mentioned in 1225. In 1522, it became the first church in Latvia to hold a Lutheran service. Sixty years later, during the Polish occupation, it was returned to the Catholic Church. In 1621, as Sweden took over Riga, it was again given to the Lutherans but was again returned to the Catholic Church in 1923.

The second stop was the largest place of worship in the Baltics, Riga Cathedral, built in 1211. During a 1923 referendum, it was briefly designated both Catholic and Lutheran but was returned to the Lutherans in 1931. It houses one of the biggest pipe organs I have ever seen, with 6768 pipes.

I carried on to the early 13th century St Peter’s Church, which is one of the oldest and most valuable medieval buildings in the Baltic States. It hosted Catholic services through to 1523 when, you guessed it, it was given to the Lutherans.

The wooden tower first collapsed in 1666. During the rebuild, builders hurled a shard of glass from the top. They believed that the more pieces it shattered into, the greater the tower’s longevity. Alas, a pile of straw cushioned the blow, and the spire burnt down a year later. Artillery fire destroyed the structure again in 1941. During the 1973 rebuild, the glass ritual was once again repeated, this time with smashing results.

The tower is still standing. If you’re willing to brave the scary elevator and some seriously dodgy steps, you can get a spectacular 360-degree view from the top.

The fourth and second-to-last stop was St John’s Church, the oldest house of worship in Riga. The original site was a Dominican monastery chapel. The current architecture appeared in 1500 after several reconstructions. As you wander through the church, you can see a strange-looking cross-shaped hole. According to legend, two 15th-century monks wanting to become saints were enclosed within the walls and fed through the hole. Unfortunately for them, they were never consecrated.

And finally, for something different, I managed a quick walk around the white and blue Our Lady of Sorrows Church, which showcases a pseudo-Roman style. The first stone church in Riga was built after the Reformation, originally in the Classicism style. The facade was changed in 1858, and today, only the colours remain.

From churches to castles

Riga Castle, built in 1330 for the Livonian Order, is a plain building in a late classicist style. It has been destroyed several times (mainly during battles with local townspeople). It now contains presidential apartments stemming from the post Cold War era. Like all good castles, it comes with a ghost. It may never have been seen, but given furniture has been known to mysteriously move around, it is clearly either an angry removalist or an out-of-favour designer.

From the plain to the striking

Aside from the castle, the mix of colours, shapes and architectural styles is perhaps the city’s most striking feature. Everywhere you look, there are stunning examples of houses and workshops showcasing the wealth and craft of a Riga from long ago. The House of the Blackheads and the Three Brothers buildings at 17 Mazā Pils Street showcase both variety and an insight into the day-to-day life and beliefs of Latvians from past eras.

The Three Brothers building is the oldest still-surviving residential Rigan complex from the 15th century and still retains its original appearance. In the Middle Ages, the street was on the outskirts of town, and it three craftsmen called them home. The oldest house (circa 1490) contained just one large room where work, trade and everyday life happened. The middle brother (circa 1646) was far more luxurious, with a large hall and specially designed living rooms. The third brother (late 17th century) had small apartments on each floor. It also contains a mask that protects evil spirits, which the owners believe is the reason why the houses are still in such good condition.

In contrast, the House of the Blackheads is in the heart of Old Riga. A reconstruction (what was left of the original was bombed in 1941), it was a gathering place for young and unmarried merchants and sailors. Overlooking the main square, it was (and still is) used for celebrations and public events and is one of the most luxurious buildings in Riga.

Modern-day history and culture

After spending most of the day enveloped in ancient history, the Museum of the Occupation of Latvia brought me into modern Latvian times. The various exhibits displayed the atrocities committed against the people of Latvia during the Nazi and Soviet occupation. Before coming to Latvia, I had little knowledge of how these regimes brought about the systemic destruction of nations across the region. The museum, albeit horrible and tragic, is an excellent display of a country constantly under threat of violent occupation.

With a need to lighten the mood and fill my stomach, I stopped in for a beer and a delightful Latvian buffet of meat and stodge. While I ate and drank, I was both grateful for the short window of opportunity to visit this beautiful country and disappointed that I wasn’t here for more days and weeks. This short trip certainly wet my appetite for the Baltic States and I am certain I will return in the future. I leave you with two of my favourite quirky statues, a very tall toy soldier and a very short blobby rock. Thanks for the fun, Latvia; I’ll see you next time!