Now I’m not in any way a religious man. Each to their own, but I don’t have a believing bone in my body. Strange then, that I’m drawn to a rather interesting spiritual and cultural object located in Northern Lithuania. Just outside the town of Siauliai (I don’t know how to pronounce it either) is The Hill of Crosses. 200,000 of them, not to be exact, all shapes and sizes, deposited on something similar to a burial mound. After a glance at some google images, I altered my route to take in this interesting locale.
I wake with the usual sluggishness and drag myself out of this pit of despair. It’s not been the highlight of my trip. After misreading the hitchwiki directions, I’m in completely the wrong place. After about two hours of marching around, packs in tow, I manage to locate the spot significantly behind my planned schedule. Still, it’s in keeping with my new “get healthy” mantra, so I must’ve burned a few beers worth of calories. I resist the urge to munch a burger in the fast food joint tantalisingly over the road.
After a shaky start and no confidence in my location, I’m amazed to be picked up inside 10 minutes. One of the fastest ever results, the guy can take me all the way to Siauliai. Any immediate joy is short-lived however, as he doesn’t speak English, is pushing 70, and clearly has Parkinson’s in his right hand. He waits until the last second to overtake slower traffic (literally if they break then we’re mush) and then takes an eon to pull back onto the right side. Southern Latvia doesn’t have the best roads either, so it’s a relief when we cross the border and he drops me safe and sound at my destination. We didn’t say a word to each other for 2 hours.
Nonetheless here I am marching to find a hostel. I’d originally decided to push on to Vilnius, but only if I could see the hill on the way down. As it stands I need to take the bus back up there, and as I’m in no rush and the accommodation is cheap, I opt to stay the night. Half an hour later and I’m deposited at the roadside, and walking the two kilometres to see this religious wonder.
First mentioned around 1850, the hill has come to symbolise hope, faith, suffering and sacrifice. It’s stood the test of time against Soviet oppression, and was blessed by no less than the Pope in 1993. The sheer number of crosses is astounding and fascinating, as is the multitude of shapes and sizes. It’s like they’re just sprouting from the earth, fingering up at the sky. For someone of little (AKA: no) faith, it was still a humbling experience. Many people make the pilgrimage here to find solace and hope, so who am I to argue if it works for them? I turn a quiet corner and take a moment.
Now I’m not saying I was speaking to HIM. I specifically said “I’m not speaking to you, because you’re not there”. However I did have a sought of “word out loud.” A few words out loud. I’ve lost my way of late and I needed all the help I can muster to get it back.
After a lovely conversation back at base with two of my own personal angels – via the holy medium of Skype – I’m feeling a lot better. I have a new direction, and a plan in place to help me get there. It’s not going to be easy, but I’m more focussed and upbeat than I have been for some time. My own seven-point program to become that guy I lost somewhere along the way. Who knows; maybe somebody was listening after all?
Hitchhike to India leg 24: Riga to Siauliai and The Hill of Crosses
Now I’m not in any way a religious man. Each to their own, but I don’t have a believing bone in my body. Strange then, that I’m drawn to a rather interesting spiritual and cultural object located in Northern Lithuania. Just outside the town of Siauliai (I don’t know how to pronounce it either) is The Hill of Crosses. 200,000 of them, not to be exact, all shapes and sizes, deposited on something similar to a burial mound. After a glance at some google images, I altered my route to take in this interesting locale.
I wake with the usual sluggishness and drag myself out of this pit of despair. It’s not been the highlight of my trip. After misreading the hitchwiki directions, I’m in completely the wrong place. After about two hours of marching around, packs in tow, I manage to locate the spot significantly behind my planned schedule. Still, it’s in keeping with my new “get healthy” mantra, so I must’ve burned a few beers worth of calories. I resist the urge to munch a burger in the fast food joint tantalisingly over the road.
After a shaky start and no confidence in my location, I’m amazed to be picked up inside 10 minutes. One of the fastest ever results, the guy can take me all the way to Siauliai. Any immediate joy is short-lived however, as he doesn’t speak English, is pushing 70, and clearly has Parkinson’s in his right hand. He waits until the last second to overtake slower traffic (literally if they break then we’re mush) and then takes an eon to pull back onto the right side. Southern Latvia doesn’t have the best roads either, so it’s a relief when we cross the border and he drops me safe and sound at my destination. We didn’t say a word to each other for 2 hours.
Nonetheless here I am marching to find a hostel. I’d originally decided to push on to Vilnius, but only if I could see the hill on the way down. As it stands I need to take the bus back up there, and as I’m in no rush and the accommodation is cheap, I opt to stay the night. Half an hour later and I’m deposited at the roadside, and walking the two kilometres to see this religious wonder.
First mentioned around 1850, the hill has come to symbolise hope, faith, suffering and sacrifice. It’s stood the test of time against Soviet oppression, and was blessed by no less than the Pope in 1993. The sheer number of crosses is astounding and fascinating, as is the multitude of shapes and sizes. It’s like they’re just sprouting from the earth, fingering up at the sky. For someone of little (AKA: no) faith, it was still a humbling experience. Many people make the pilgrimage here to find solace and hope, so who am I to argue if it works for them? I turn a quiet corner and take a moment.
Now I’m not saying I was speaking to HIM. I specifically said “I’m not speaking to you, because you’re not there”. However I did have a sought of “word out loud.” A few words out loud. I’ve lost my way of late and I needed all the help I can muster to get it back.
After a lovely conversation back at base with two of my own personal angels – via the holy medium of Skype – I’m feeling a lot better. I have a new direction, and a plan in place to help me get there. It’s not going to be easy, but I’m more focussed and upbeat than I have been for some time. My own seven-point program to become that guy I lost somewhere along the way. Who knows; maybe somebody was listening after all?