Ice Hummocks
HUMMOCK - A block of ice formed by the compression of ice in seas, lakes, rivers. A ridge of hummocks.
Not so long ago, my friend Shurik suggested taking a trip to Jūrmala. It would all be fine, but it was the month of March outside. I've always had a soft spot for all sorts of crazy, out-of-the-box ideas, so I didn't have the slightest objection and agreed right away. Shurik, however, turned out to be more forward-thinking than I had thought: as it turns out, you can admire the sea at any time of year.
So that you don't get the urge to send us all en masse to the loony bin, I suggest taking a look at the photos.
It all started a week ago. The weather was just wonderful, sunshine, blue sky, what else does a person need? Well, you need very little — to go to lectures. At least occasionally it's better to do that, otherwise you might get completely rusty. That's why the trip was postponed until better times, which didn't take long to arrive. Just a week and a half later, Shurik brought the topic up again, and we firmly decided that on Saturday we would go admire the ordinary Baltic beauty after all. However, on the night from Saturday to Friday I was occupied by an exceptionally important issue, namely the configuration of [censored by anti-computer censorship so the reader doesn't get bored] under Linux. Having messed around with it until 5 in the morning, I learned a ton of nuances about [censored by anti-computer censorship so the reader doesn't get bored], but couldn't solve the issue. Saying to hell with it all, I dug into a completely different area, and, according to Murphy's Law, everything was sorted out in 5 minutes. And so, at 5:15, an exhausted half-corpse collapsed into bed.
Exactly 5 hours, 37 minutes and a certain number of seconds later, I was viciously woken up by comrade Razgulyaev. All I had the energy for was to ask what time it was. Having found out, still half-asleep I quickly grabbed my cell and started calling Shurik. Nothing good could come of this, and, quite naturally, I got the wrong number, scaring a completely different person with a terrifying yell of "Where are you?". When I heard the answer "In Daugavpils", I was totally dumbfounded and, no longer grasping anything at all, astoundedly uttered the brilliant phrase "And what are you doing there?".
Fortunately, having figured out the situation fairly quickly, I corrected the mistake, and calling back on another number, I found out that the traitor Shurik was already rolling along in a trolleybus to the train station, without even letting me know.
Grabbing my clothes, a "Skara" bun and a carton of milk with my teeth, I rushed to the bus stop, where I was struck by the lucky idea to flag down a minibus, which I did, as a result ending up at the station faster than Shurik. I must say that he didn't show up alone, but with a girl named Olya.
Having waited for the rest of the event's participants in the form of Artur Miller and his girl named Zhenya, we successfully loaded into the electric train and after some half an hour were already walking along the platform of the Dubulti station.
This is still Centrala stacija. That is, the Riga train station. Left to right - me, Shurik, Olya, Artur.
Soon we found ourselves on the coast.
An icy landscape.
Artur Miller
Zhenya
Shurik, Olya, Artur, Me.
Vacationing beachgoers are basking in the gentle spring sun.
Miller on a block of sea ice. Behind him is dangerous melting ice.
Periodically, a siren would go off and demands to leave the danger zone would ring out.
Shurik sprawled out like he was at home. However, that's typical of him.
All jokes aside, practically melted ice.
A cute couple.
Conquerors of the North Pole, heroic polar explorers.
Only heads sticking out.
Warm. No irony.
The bucket of a prehistoric excavator.
A curious contraption, it wobbles and sways, I really don't care though, I'm not afraid of heights.
Here's such a little ladder.
Actually, this structure is meant for anchoring the classic "Tube Slide" ride in the summertime.
Advanced youth.
I like this photo so much that I even put a large-size, high-quality copy on the server.
Ice hummocks in all their glory.
The famous turtle.
We walked to it from Dubulti to Majori. It's quite a short distance. Then we went into a cafe. The folks drank cherry beer, which was more like cider, and I had my favorite drink — hot wine. There we also ate amazingly delicious crepes, and afterwards, having watched the patrons enough, we grabbed some donuts for the road too.
I must say that the prices in most cafes, despite the supposedly unsuitable season for tourists, are quite touristy. Everything is calculated for German burghers, for whom it turns out to be a cheap paradise.
A chop (just a piece of meat, no side dish) - 2 Ls ($4.5).
We got lucky, and got off with two lats a head for a really decent snack. The cafe was "Pingvīns", which is actually famous for ice cream, but, as it turned out, the rest is also up to par there.
Looks like a desert. However, that's a common comparison.
Someone unknown carefully chopped up huge blocks of ice and stacked them in uneven piles. The magpie in the background is given for scale.
We are joyfully looking into the future.
The same chunks in all their glory.
Returned back.