Anastasia in Wonderland

In Latvia, to climb a pine tree one must be a giant. The treetops cover houses with small branches tickling the windows. Being next to the Baltic, the water is cold but the beach sand is just as hot as the Sahara. Sunshine rains through the trees and the hedges lock it away leaving the passage from beach house to actual beach dark. Trees upon trees through what looked like a forest. A graffiti covered lodge and somewhere in the distance was the beach. The illusion concludes in the fact that once the beach peaks though, stone steps appear as the forest simply stops. Beige sand, softer than Egyptian cotton, greets the feet. The sun is just as hot despite the fact that Latvia is so far north it never has a perfectly dark night. Baltic sea water directly correlates though. It causes shivers up the spine as hypothermia becomes an option.
Still the people swim. I can also say I swam in the Baltic sea and wiggled the legs to keep blood flow constant. A forest surrounds the house I am staying at. I sleep in the library, like a true author and student, snapping photos every second possible. The link to the album is on the sidebar in case anyone has some interest. Each photo has a story. Like the wild gooseberries growing the backyard. What do gooseberries taste like? They taste like honey and a hint of strawberry if you pick the perfect green one. The red ones are sour no matter how close to ripe you get.
Despite the freezing nights, the people walk the streets and cafes all tickled by the beach wind. Dance clubs are also found on the beach with the lights barely reaching the water. Nighttime is never night. The horizon remains on a freeze-frame of the sunset with the waves reflecting the clouds and slowly creeping sun.
The beauty of the beach and the beauty of the city in Ukraine are two separate stories. Old buildings pilled on top of each other with chipped paint crowd the center. The smell of coffee never leaves as around every corner there is someone sipping their share. I completely understand why though. So bold it tastes like six expressos poured into a single cup as well as all the coffee grinds lurking on the bottom. There are enough coffee grinds though to cover a whole face if one was to tip the cup too far. One coffee shop outshines the other. A coffee mine blasting alternative rock serving flaming alcoholic coffee is located under a big coffee maker. Every restaurant is located in the basement though. The smell of mold from the Lviv showers resinates.
The food. Dear god. The amount is one thing but the flavor is something else. I can't stop myself from eating even in Latvia because it is too damn good. Plate after plate and I manage to find room for another course. Beet soup stewed on a chicken legs. Chicken noodle soup with a brewed flavor as a sunshine yellow broth stays in the soup bathing home made egg noodles.
Honestly, I don't want to leave. No one here is running to a meeting or a new goal. People here sit at coffee simply talking. No, not texting or online. They are simply talking about their days or the latest joke. Dinner is hours long because there is always something to say and another dish to try. Best of all, everyone is with their family. Families work together and live together. There is no age limit on when one must move out and when one does, it is simply across the street. Dinner at mom's is sacred and dropping by without warning is welcomed. I won't just be leaving with a few extra pounds, I'll be leaving with a new appreciation for relaxation. I'll be leaving to my mama.