|
|
On one of the last warm weekends of fall, I went to the beach with two Italians, Rosanna and Isabella. It was about a 30-minute train ride from Riga. The town had a very “beach” feel to it. There were many shops and places to eat along a paved pedestrian area. On the beach, there were many Russians dressed in their leather outfits and high-heeled shoes. It looked ridiculous to me, but it seemed normal to them. The beach used to be quite the resort for the rich. Now, large resort houses stand empty and rotting. Children ran around in the playground equipment area, but overall the beach was very quite. To me it seemed like a place for quiet and reflection.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|