On the positive side, at least I'm not out in the rain and wind. But I'm getting ahead of myself here. I'll explain why I'm feeling angry.
The trouble started from the moment I decided to board a bus in Kaunas. Kaunas is Lithuania's second-largest city, with the most "pure" Lithuanian population. This is the place where many of my ancestors -- the Kaledas -- lived. Where other cities and towns have solid populations of Poles, Russians, Latvians, Estonians and other minorities, Kaunas has remained Lithuanian. Though I was staying in Vilnius, the Lithuanian capitol, from the beginning of this trip I wanted to venture to Kaunas, just a two-hour train trip. I planned to soak in the atmosphere and maybe sample few famous potato dishes.
The train ride was not the problem. On the train, I read my guidebook as rolling farmland lumbered by outside the tracks. My guidebook said -- rather plainly -- that in Kaunas I could either get a bus ticket from a sidewalk kiosk or on the bus itself. I was familiar with this ticketing method from travels in other foreign countries. Because of rainy weather, I decided on the latter option and hopped on the bus as it pulled up near the train station.
I must say something about buses in Lithuania: put simply, they are awful. (This is coming from someone who has been on quite a few awful buses. See the Central American bus story for details.) Exhaust-spewing dusty leftovers from the Soviet era, the buses themselves are large. Oddly, though there are just a few seats. It costs about 10 cents to ride one, and everyone rides. There is no personal space, and thus no air. In the spaces between people, there is only dust and the odor of wet overcoats.
So I'm on Bus #7, the bus that goes into central Kaunas. (Unlike most city train stations in Europe, Kaunas' station is nowhere near the city center.) I'm not sure when or where I will get off. I figure I'll know it when I see it. Old Cities are usually easy to spot, even in chilly December when there are no tourists.
