When I step out the court yard, passing the sleeping guard (there since 1910), rows of elegant chestnut trees try to highlight the importance the street I lived on once. Across, a renovated white Jugendstil building arises, the architect responsible for the renovation scarred the building by adding flashy changing colored lights to emphasis the naked Greek water carriers. These goddesses change into cheap prostitutes after sunset; red, blue and green LED lights shine directly on their breasts.
After taking a left I walk down Elizabethes iela, maybe one of the most beautiful streets in Riga. Every morning I discover new surprising details on the ten or so elegant 20th century five-story Art Nouveau buildings with their mythological creatures decorating the outer walls. It’s not hard to imagine the many dim hot summer nights filled with chamber music escaping the open balcony doors, and the fading clicking-sounds of horseshoes on cobblestones in the background.
When taking a right I stroll down Kalpaka Bulvaris the park on the right side is quiet and dark, on the left side Latvia’s (near) neighbors settled their governmental representatives in these historical colorful buildings. These official vocal points are separated by empty luxury apartment complexes developed during the time the country was high on cheap credit.
After crossing Krisjana Valdemara iela, I continue on Kalpaka Bulvaris. Here the dark red bricks of the Latvian Art Academy are noticed first. The impressive columns, towers and windows of this building can only be appreciated when one stands in front of it. Now my attention shifts to the poor road and I experience the second part of my journey to the central station, as less pleasant. I can compare it with driving through a tunnel; you don’t really pay attention to dark grey sides and only focus on the light in the end.