There's more to do than sitting in the hot sun at this seaside village

  • 2009-08-13
  • By Philip Birzulis

BEACH BUM: Enjoying the sun and a walk in the sand.

RIGA - Given the fleeting nature of the local summers, it is small wonder that Balts make the most of the sun while it shines. And nowhere do they seek the heat more passionately than at the Latvian resort of Jurmala.

This sandy playground on Riga's doorstep hosts many pleasures for visitors, from exotic sanatorium massages to the cheesy "New Wave" pop festival. But fewer people are aware of a quieter, greener side to the place that is well worth a day's exploration.

Jurmala, which literally means "the seaside" in Latvian, is a collection of villages on the tongue of land between the Gulf of Riga and the Lielupe River. On the eastern fringe of this strip, where the latter body of water runs into the sea, you will find the railway stop of Lielupe and its surrounding attractions. Wear comfortable shoes as getting around them all takes a bit of healthy footslogging.

To get a feel for what the place was like before the arrival of BMWs and bikinis, head to the eastern tip of the isthmus for the Jurmala Open Air Museum (Tiklu iela 1a, Lielupe, open 10:00-18:00, closed Mon.). This delightful park is a similar setup to the big outdoor museum near Riga but with a nautical theme. It was set up in 1970 by a state-run fishing enterprise, proof that even in the dreariest years of Soviet rule there were people who cared about the nation's cultural heritage. The exhibits tell the story of fishing in Latvia, covering everything from authentic 19th century fisherman's huts, anchors and nets to Soviet-era trawlers. Tie yourself down by checking out what is claimed to be the biggest collection of ropes in the Baltics. And you can even get as close as you'd ever wish to a few menacing, spiked World War II mines fished out of the Baltic Sea.

From here, take a stroll through the nature reserve to where the river flows into the sea. It's a pretty spot, and for those interested it's also a gay cruising area. Look for the guy in the leather bathers. On the other hand, you may like to walk west along the shore to an area with more mainstream entertainment. About two kilometers on there's a kids' playground, a beach bar and some of the coziest looking deckchairs around. Just past the dunes you'll find the 36. linija restaurant (ph. 22010696, 36.linija 3, Lielupe). On the negative side, at around 7 lats a main course, it's a bit expensive if all you want is a snack between dips in the water. The prices also attract Chihuahua-owning Paris Hilton wannabes found in large numbers amongst the post-Soviet elite. On the other hand, the outdoor deck is perfect for soaking up a few rays through a beer glass, and the polyglot waiters provide astonishingly friendly service. And if you do decide to splurge, the lamb soup with lime leaves, coconut milk and fresh coriander is divine.

To see where some of those nouveau riches live, take a hike on the road running through the forest to Jurnieku iela. The mansions along this boulevard testify to the fact that regardless of the current economic crisis, some folks have done very well in Latvia since independence. And who can blame them for choosing to make this particular neighborhood some of the priciest real estate in Latvia, where the scent of pines and the crashing of waves soothe the soul after a hard day's wheeling and dealing.

Further on the street changes its name to Bulduru prospekts and gradually takes on a more commercial aspect. One of the oddities of Jurmala is how pockets of wealth like the aforementioned sit within shouting distance of windowless hovels, communist architectural accidents and genteel prewar cottages. Unresolved property ownership issues, dollops of new money undiluted by taste and a whiff of municipal corruption have all left their mark, creating a strange collision of Beverly Hills, Stalingrad and a provincial fishing village.

For all that, the place has an irresistible vibrancy about it, and the weekend traffic jams testify to how many people want a piece of it. Not everything from the Soviet days is defecation in concrete either. The Hotel Lielupe (Bulduru prospects 64/68, www.lielupe.lv) is a nicely renovated sanatorium where you can play a few sets of tennis between submitting to an anti-cellulite massage or sweating it out in a Turkish bath with eucalyptus steam infusions. If you want to stay dressed, head for the 11th floor restaurant with eye-popping views of sea and forest. This is a nice reminder that despite the bustle on Jurmala's main arteries, by some miracle the natural assets of this lovely part of the world have not been sacrificed on the altar of "development." Let's hope it stays that way.

Lielupe is just 20 minutes from Riga by car, and if you don't have your own wheels, trains packed with holiday revelers run frequently from Riga Central. But possibly the best way to cruise the leafy streets is by bike, and an excellent cycle path running all the way from Riga to Jurmala lets you do the whole trip on two wheels.