It was a hot afternoon in Riga, so I thought that nothing could be better than enjoying the orange rays of afternoon sun by the sea, in the famous town of Jurmala. The seaside resort village is just half an hour away from the Latvian capital, and a favorite of the russian elite. This sure does feel like Russia in all ways. But don't let the flashy, glittery deco and the loud (diverse and all but relaxing) music fool you, Jurmala boasts some of the best wooden houses around, in tranquil side streets steps away from the wide, long, baltic beach.
As soon as the train was leaving the bustling Riga, grey massive clouds started to grace the Latvian soil with some generous rain. My summery locus amoenus was transformed into a sticky, humid, wet afternoon. But now that I think about it, it was for the better. The greyness gave a thin veil of purity and humility to colorful Jurmala, and walking under the rain (before it went all crazy) while walking by the sea sure was nice.
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