Baltic adventures
We rolled off the ferry in Gdynia early in the morning and headed towards our first destination: Wolfsschanze, Hitler’s infamous wartime headquarters in the forests outside Kętrzyn. Already here, the trip began to deliver surprises – like when we stopped in a small village and Jens managed to buy ice cream in Polish using Google Translate. The shop assistant kept talking, we didn’t understand a word – but the ice cream he received was exactly what he’d ordered.
Visiting the Wolfsschanze, Hitler’s former headquarters outside Kętrzyn in Poland, was a strange experience. The enormous bunkers, partly blown apart and overgrown with moss, lay hidden in the forest. A place that was both fascinating and unsettling – a slice of dark history in the midst of tranquil nature.
The roads in Poland turned out to be an adventure in themselves: first-class motorways mixed with old tank tracks, rutted gravel stretches and forest lanes. A stranded dump truck in the middle of the road forced a short detour across a freshly ploughed field. After a long day in 30-degree heat and just over 300 kilometres in the saddle, we finally reached our first overnight stop – a cosy little guesthouse a bit out in the countryside.
The idyll, however, had a downside: only a hundred metres away ran a railway, and the trains thundered past roughly once an hour – even at night. And sometimes, the misunderstandings made us laugh. We only found one blanket in the room and went to ask for another. “No problem,” said the woman at reception, and returned with a thick winter duvet. She must have thought we were freezing.
Kaliningrad – waiting, military power and pavlova
At the border to Kaliningrad we got a lesson in both patience and military discipline. We obediently placed ourselves at the back of the queue, but the other drivers quickly pointed out: “You’re on motorcycles – you don’t have to wait, ride to the front!” It seemed sensible, so we did as they said and passed the line.
That’s when a guard with a rifle stopped us. He first waved us past the barrier, but when we handed over our passports, he shouted at us to return to the back immediately. We had no choice – without our passports we were going nowhere – so we complied.
The queue moved painfully slowly, and we amused ourselves by watching a Polish worker cutting grass at the roadside – despite the fact that it was mostly stones and gravel. Whether he was sober was questionable, but effective it certainly wasn’t. We also discovered the reason for the long queues: petrol was much cheaper in Kaliningrad, so the Poles waited for hours to fill their tanks and jerrycans.
Three hours later we were finally through. But the moment we crossed the border, the GPS stopped working – the map only showed a straight line for the road we were on. Finding the hotel in unfamiliar traffic became a real challenge, and for the first time on the trip we had to rely on Google Translate to get by.
Beyond the border, we rode towards the city of Kaliningrad, where long, straight country roads and empty fields gave way to growing intensity. As we approached the centre, the impressions were overwhelming: thick black exhaust fumes, the stench of open drains mixed with shisha smoke and cigarettes – everyone seemed to smoke here. After circling in chaotic traffic, we finally found the hotel, grabbed a quick shower, and went out for dinner. The receptionist’s recommendation was spot on: grilled sea urchin and, for dessert, a classic pavlova.
Kaliningrad is an intriguing city with roots back to the 13th century. It feels straight out of a Cold War spy film – Eastern bloc grit with faint touches of Western influence. Grass grows wild and uncut, tree branches hang low over pavements and cycle paths, forcing you to duck. A fascinating place to experience.
Lithuania – Curonian Spit and the Hill of Crosses
Leaving Kaliningrad was easier said than done – without GPS and with poor signage, it turned into quite a challenge. Luckily, Jens found the way, and we headed out towards the Curonian Spit, a narrow 100-kilometre-long stretch of land between Kaliningrad and Lithuania, both a UNESCO World Heritage site and nature reserve. The border crossing went relatively smoothly, and we soon found ourselves on the Lithuanian side.
The contrast was clear: the Russian side felt wilder and less developed for tourism, while the Lithuanian side was more orderly and visitor-friendly.
When we reached Klaipėda, the whole city was in celebration. Roads were blocked and we were stopped several times by the police. In the end, we even received a police escort through the city to reach our hotel – a welcome unlike any other.
Further into Lithuania we visited one of the trip’s most memorable places: the Hill of Crosses outside Šiauliai. For centuries, people have placed crosses here in memory of those fallen in wars and uprisings. An overwhelming, almost eerie sea of crosses stretched out before us – a site that leaves a lasting impression.
The Hill of Crosses (Šiauliai, Lithuania):
- Location: Just outside Šiauliai, northern Lithuania.
- Origin: The first crosses were placed after the Polish–Lithuanian uprising of 1831, in memory of soldiers whose graves were not recognised by Tsarist Russia. More were added after the 1863 uprising.
- Symbol of resistance: During the Soviet era, the site was destroyed several times, but people continued to erect new crosses in secret.
- Resilience: The hill re-emerged again and again, becoming a powerful symbol of faith, national identity and resistance.
- Today: A place of pilgrimage and one of Lithuania’s most famous landmarks, with an estimated 100,000 crosses.
Latvia – motocross tracks and a spa in Riga
The journey continued through Latvia, where one of the stops was the legendary World Championship motocross track at Kegums. Seeing the place where the world’s motocross elite have raced was a highlight. We walked a stretch of the circuit and Jens took the opportunity to try what it feels like to stand on the podium.
We then made our way on a mix of roads – mostly fast gravel – to our next stop: Riga. It was so insanely dusty that, riding behind Jens, I tried to leave a decent gap between us. But Jens, considerately wanting to make sure I was with him, kept waiting for me, so when we finally reached Riga and had checked into the hotel, I went straight into the shower with my kit still on. It was almost hard to see what colour the clothes were under all that dust.
When I hear the name Riga, my first thought is Henning Mankell’s novel and film The Dogs of Riga. But the city offers so much more – not least a rich and fascinating history. Founded in 1201 by Bishop Albert, Riga quickly grew into an important trading post on the Baltic. As a member of the Hanseatic League, the city flourished, and the legacy can still be seen in the Old Town. Today, Riga is a UNESCO World Heritage site, where narrow lanes, medieval churches and grand Art Nouveau houses coexist in a cityscape that feels like walking through different eras.
Here we treated ourselves to a much-needed rest day at a spa hotel. It was pure bliss – a long lie-in, a glass of bubbly with breakfast, exploring the Old Town and its markets, and sampling local food. We tried local beers and a honey-flavoured liqueur – which smelt far better than it tasted. Honestly, it was undrinkable, so I handed my glass to the old man next to me – he was absolutely delighted. Luckily, it was made up for with sparkling wine and an evening in the spa.
Estonia – straight roads, waterfalls and champagne on arrival
From Riga, we rode north towards Estonia. The roads became ruler-straight, but we stopped in Pärnu to stretch our legs on its long sandy beach.
Tallinn greeted us with traffic, speed cameras, and our first encounter with the police – but also with a touch of luxury at the hotel, where a bottle of champagne and chocolates were waiting in the room. Before catching the ferry home, we managed to explore the surroundings: we visited Jägala waterfall – considered by Estonians to be one of the most beautiful in Europe – and had lunch by the old TV tower.
By sheer coincidence, Jens’ sister and nephew arrived in Tallinn by boat at the very same time we were there. What are the odds? It turned into a spontaneous coffee break together.
A journey to remember
In total, we spent just over a week on two wheels across Poland, Kaliningrad, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia. Days filled with dust, sunshine, encounters with people, and plenty of unexpected events. But above all, it was the freedom of experiencing the eastern side of the Baltic Sea on a motorcycle.
Today, with borders changed and the world looking different, the trip feels even more special – and the memory of Kaliningrad now part of a history we were able to experience first-hand.
Anna Haglund