From Minsk I go to Vilnius. As usual, I sleep on
the bus. Whenever I open my eyes and look out of the window I see
lupines. Shortly before the border a man with red eyes gets on and
sits down next to me. He coughs and wheezes. My dismissive manner
doesn't stop him from striking up a friendly conversation with me
with his heavy tongue and from helping me out of the bus at the
At its White Russian border, Lithuania starts with
a cappucino machine. My neighbour notices that I like the smell
and buys me a coffee. He describes his image of a travelling artist:
the artist opens his eyes wide, remembers everything and paints
a big picture out of all of these memories at the end. If only he
didn't have such bad breath.
Coming from Minsk, everything in Vilnius looks very
German. The Minsk fashion of short skirts, long hair and high heels
been replaced by a sporty look. It pours with rain
most of the time. I spend my time in the best of company in the
nice bar of the Contemporary Art Center, or go out, also in the
best of company. "Let's go to the Café de Paris",
suggests Ula in the evening. Ula is one of the curators of the CAC.
In front of the Café de Paris the decision is made
to go to Cosy's instead. "It's like that every time",
says Valentinas. "First Ula suggests going to the Café
de Paris, and then we go to Cosy's". Much to my
pleasure we have fried garlic bread to go with the beer.
The curators are all very young.
One late evening we end up in the writers' union. Ula rings the
doorbell of an inconspicuous door. The staircase is very noble.
Poems hang on the yellow walls. The writers are drunk. A man drinking
apple juice with brandy joins us at our table. "It's all empty",
he says, and: "It's all not so easy".