Žalgiris v Trakai
Dainava v Tauras
Kauno Žalgiris v Sūduva
The next morning it as an early departure from the hotel and off to Centralna.
This was for a train up to Suwalki, for a bus across the border into Lithuania and onto Vilnius. The only issue was that it was a +20 at Suwalki with a ten minute walk from train to bus station. Therefore, when we were still sat at Central fifteen minutes after departure time, and with no obvious slack in the timetable, concern levels were raised, as my connection appeared to be the last bus of the day.
A quick check of Skyscanner revealed the alternate of an eighteen euro flight via Riga, but it was departing in less than an hour. Fortunately, there was a Chopin bound unit on the opposite platform.
Which whisked me to the airport, which despite being a relative new build, had good old fashioned sand drags.
A mad dash through the belt and shoe police and the intra-Schengen move meaning a non-requirement for a passport check, got me my own personal bus to this diddy little prop jet operated by Air Baltic, who are the Latvian national operator.
And not very much later we landed at Riga, surrounded by Aeroflot planes.
We were bussed the not inconsiderable distance to the arrivals lounge, where I headed for the transfers. I was directed to the departure lounge, noticing the only Air Baltic plane in the area was the one I'd just got off.
And sure enough, twenty minutes after getting off, I was being welcomed by the same crew onto the same plane to sit in the same seat, having done a bus and walking lap of Riga airport.
Just over half an hour later and we were descending over Vilnius, though the most and rain meant I didn't get a very good shot of the city, station and national football stadium.
The pilot was obviously sympathetic to my plight as he completely fucked up the landing, and we suddenly rose back in the air, for a second attempt, but my photo and the landing attempt were equally as bad, so round we went again.
Third times a charm both for my photo...
...and touchdown, the pilot giving a grovelling explanation of how badly the wind and rain affects landing at the airport, and it being so close to residential areas, there are tough restrictions on speed/heights of approach. What did I care, I'm sure it wasn't going to affect me now.
I made my way out to what is proudly boasted as being the only airport railway station of any Baltic nation, which would be more impressive if it didn't look like Croxley West.
Or had been stickered by the German branch of the 'against modern football' movement, who are basically twenty something bearded real ale hipsters who in the 1980s would be watching Harlequins rugby and embracing Thatcherism, but now the vogue is to destroy the capitalist machine through wearing Jeremy Corbyn badges and watching Dulwich Hamlet.
Anyway, where was I. Oh, some broad gauge Bubblecar rolled in, announcing a far off destination on the PA, which the guard swore at in local tones, before assuring everyone that it was heading back into Vilnius.
Where we arrived into six minutes later, and 40 cents lighter.
First on the agenda was to see what loco hauled spins were on the cards. The depot revealed a healthy set of TEP70s...
...and even repainted M62s.
And a row of very pristine looking stored TEM2s.
However, the reality was a real disappointment as what was I recorded on the Klaipeda service on my last visit...
...but was now being operated by this.
The TEP60s previously on the Minsk...
...were now this Belarussian plastic.
Leaving only the Moscow's as loco haulage, but they had been reduced to a single Kaliningrad through service, which passed through Vilnius in the middle of the night.
So instead that others Vilnius pastime; go and see what state the national football stadium is in. This was a trolleybus move, with a few of the modern ones flagged before getting something approaching rateable.
Out over the River Neris.
Except it didn't stop where I thought it would, and instead it was a drop off in some north west outpost of the city.
Which gave me the opportunity to take in the local abandoned allotment scene. You don't get this in Lonely Planet.
Nor the great road interchanges of Northern Vilnius. Except I wasn't here for that, instead it is the decaying edifice in the background.
The Lithuanian National Football stadium was started in 1987 but progress was rudely interrupted by the fall of communism.
Since then, every five years there are bold announcements of work restating to finish the 25,000 seater ground.
However, on various visits, the only difference is that it had become more overgrown and the exposed rebar is bent slightly differently.
On this occasion there was a security guard parked in the centre of the ground...
...with a yet to be defined function as there isn't much to steal.
I left, confident that my next visit would be on the back of another announcement declaring a resumption of construction activity, but with no actual progress.
Afterwards, it was the express bus into town.
And after sorting out the hotel, it was out into the now darkness for the evenings activities. Starting with the looming presence of a 2M62 in the station bays.
But I headed onto here.
This is the current Lithuanian national football stadium.
I struggled to find a ticket outlet, the sales office turning out to be the passenger window of the parked Volvo.
Žalgiris 0 v Trakai 1, A Lyga
The club was founded in 1946 as a mix of players from the Spartan and Dinamo clubs in Kaunas, representing Lithuania in the newly formed USSR championship, though only at level 3. The following season saw them move to the capital and adopt the Dinamo name, becoming a permanent member of the Soviet Union football league, which they played in for the next forty years, firstly as Spartak Vilnius and then in 1962, becoming Žalgiris. They were probably the only Lithuanians sad to see the demise of Soviet rule, as the late 1980s had been their most successful period, with high league finishes and European qualification. The demise of communism saw their Russian players head off sharpish, and the Lithuanian players free to temptations elsewhere. This meant that early dominance in the newly formed Lithuanian championship had dwindled by the late 1990s, as concentrated wealth funded the rise of other clubs in the country. Žalgiris then were subject to the obligatory Eastern European recent club history, namely that the owner with a complicated back story of wealth accumulation, was invited to Moscow, arrested and never seen again. This means the club was reformed in 2008 as a supporter run set up, and this coincided with the other leading teams having their owners suffer similar fates, hence there has been a recent rise in the clubs fortunes, winning the last four league and cup doubles.
Trakai is located just west of Vilnius and is a twee tourist town based on the numerous lakes and forests in the area. The football club were founded in 2005 in the fourth tier of Lithuanian football. Successive promotions saw them reach the top A Lyga, though this has meant they now have to play their games here in Vilnius. They have been runners up in the last two campaigns, which has seen a debut in European competition, the highlight being a 7-1 demolition of Faroese giants FC Torshavn.
Žalgiris originally played at the much lamented self named stadium which was found just north of the river. It was a huge concrete bowl, built by German prisoners of war, but struggled to keep up with modern safety requirements and was abandoned before finally being demolished in 2015. This ground was originally the Lokomotyvas stadium of the Lithuanian national railway. In 2004 it was bought by the owner of upcoming side FK Vėtra, who significantly rebuilt the ground. However, their demise in 2010 saw it purchased by the Lithuanian Football Federation, who have since upgraded facilities to make it the national football ground, and also home of Žalgiris.
On the opposite touchline is a bank of open seating.
With similar behind the far goal.
The remaining end being just a training pitch.
There was a selection of visiting stickering. I especially liking the mini bus the Jelgava boys go on tour in.
Despite the stadium appearing to be a slightly more modern version of the Withdean, it had hosted the international match versus England four days previous. If ever one sticker summed up why going away with England must be avoided at all costs, then this is it. I take it this is base level cuntdom is Peterborough.
There was some choreographed dance moves from the officials.
But the teams emerged.
There was a minutes silence, for what I don't know, but it was meticulously observed by everyone.
Apart from this attention seeker who carried on dancing around like Peter Crouch in his early days at Dulwich Hamlet.
The game got underway.
The away side taking a very early lead.
This delighted the tremendous away following, with eight teenagers going under the 'Trakai Knights' moniker.
However, there was a chance for an almost instant response, with a penalty for the home side.
With the slightly more numerous home 'Pietų IV' ultras looking on.
Only to see the penalty very acrobatically saved.
Another one for the lonely souls at football collection.
Even lonelier souls.
It was only when he was walking off at halftime that I noticed their was a home @keepers_towel.
Which disappointingly, didn't then appear in the second half.
There were a few more chances in the second half, but no real threats to the scoreline.
The game finished 0-1 to the visitors.
Who went off to celebrate with the exuberant Trakai knights.
Next morning and it was time to do some actual tourist things. From previous mutterings you will no my disdain at having to sightsee around capital cities, as they are all just a river, some sort of parliament buildings, a memorial to a war that they won but everyone else has forgotten about, a floodlit cathedral and an obscure museum. Oh and probably a big hill to take panoramic shots from.
So it was a trolleybus move.
Down to the national museum.
Although the funicular was disappointingly closed due to earth stabilisation works. Although it transpired it wasn't actually not working, it had just been commandeered by the builders for their own use.
So instead it was a hike up some ice like cobbles.
To get a view of a builders crane.
And what looked like a half finished Grand Designs project, just requiring a pregnant couple living in a caravan.
The recommended view of the national monument on the opposite hillside, had slight incursion from the builders JCB.
So with the museum/hilltop view confirming my opinion that normal tourist activities are wank, I decided to give the river a go.
Except it just looked like the Exeter flood relief channels had been dumped in Bedminster.
Of more interest were the passing ducks. Whenever people are on their travels, there is always the 'I tell you what you never see abroad' conversation. My choice is birthday cards, but Ciaran always goes with the lack of foreign ducks, so this picture would have been sent to him if I had any faith in him being able to open an email attachment.
The walk also gave the opportunity to take in the national beach volleyball arena. Being located 300km inland, must be a bit of a kick in the teeth for the golden sands of Klaipėda.
However, Bristol City had made their presence felt with stickers depicting an intercity executive liveried HST at Temple Meads. Some say modern football hooligans are all about posturing and picking soft targets, it was good to see this proving wrong that lazy stereotype.
To add to the general sense of depression, the obscure exhibition choice was the Museum of Genocide victims.
And then to the nominated viewing point for the city.
This is the Tauras Hill building, but the authorities appear to have Glen Tamplin lead the refurbishment project.
It did at least give crane-devoid views over the murky city. By now I was fully satisfied that my choice of visiting football grounds, stations and drinking, is by far the superior choice over any cultural crap. By god normal tourists must be a bored and depressed species.
So I went back to basics, and headed for the Lithuanian National Railway Museum. Except that it was closed.
So it was back to the sanctuary of the railway station.
Which for some reason had a forty foot depiction of Tony Soprano going to collect his morning paper from the end of his driveway.
Starting with the hall which contained an almost life size model of The Lithuanian railway network.
Upstairs and I finally found the elusive national Railway museum. Which contained models of old locos.
And new ones.
A Lithuanian NX panel
The cab of a 2M62.
The sexual torture equipment from the S&M section of the LGRSA.
An opportunity to air my usual grievance about why are kids so crap at drawing trains. So many rule book contraventions in these scenes.
Though I suspect this kid may have had some help, as if you ask the average eight year old Lithuanian child to draw a train, I don't think many would choose a scene from Darlington in the 1830s.
This one is better, being a female ticket collector trying to show Ciaran how to use panorama mode.
I think they'd run out of ideas for exhibits when they resorted to this...
...the water dispenser from the staff canteen.
Happily, I was informed of a rolling stock display out in the station yard.
So, an M62, though the V120 numbering suggests it might actually be a re-gauged ex-East German example?
A chimack xxx, and a 2M62. These are amongst my most favourite class of diesel, being two M62s chained together, with the inner cabs replaced by a corridor connection. Being of soviet extraction, they are hideously unreliable and slow, but get an unsilenced one and they are good for thrash.
If you head into the closer Russian states, they are still available for haulage, often in multiple. Here is my favourite example, when I had four of them in multiple (i.e. Eight power units) on load four into Lviv in Ukraine. One by one they unhooked and moved off to depot.
But joy upon joy, there was also a TEP60 present, now only working in Belarus, but this one had strangely been painted in the new LG livery.
With the proper culture now done, it was onward with my travels. However, a map at the railway museum had revealed that my destination, Alytus, whilst having a railway station, this was only served from the west, so would have been 3.5 sides of a square to get to it via Kaunus and Sestokai.
So instead it was to the bus station.
Where there was no shortage of options for a move to Alytus.
This was the supposed express bus option.
Which was basically through a continuous forest, so don't be too disappointed that this shot doesn't show anything through the windows, I'm sure you've all seen a tree before.
The 90 minutes of woodland watching dropping me here #againstmodernhashtags.
The standard 'aren't provincial high streets crap' view. Alytus grew up as a frontier town, meaning it served as both a military stronghold during conflicts, and also as a trading centre during peace time. These days it hosts the national Lithuanian tomato festival.
Although it was farmers market day. The farmers in the Alytus area appear to just grow nuts and make wooden chopping boards, as that is pretty much all the stalls sold.
After depositing my belongings into the hotel, it was off to search out my evenings activities. Which naturally, were woodland based.
No, not mass genocide or dogging, not even wood carving.
One of the Baltic states key skills is to go from daytime to darkness in a five minute spell. As I continued through the forest, the lights were on.
And by the time I'd reached it, my chosen destination closer resembled the final scenes of ET rather than the approach to a football ground.
An unguarded gate afforded free entry into the ground.
Dainava 5 v Tauras 0, Lithuania - 1 Lyga
DFK Alytis Alytus were founded in 2003, after the demise of the forty year old Alytis club. They started off in the fourth tier, but quickly gained promotion up to the second level. Alongside them were FK Vidzgiris Alytus who were founded in 2000 and progressed at a similar rate up to the second level. The two clubs decided that the chances of promotion would be better if they combined, so in 2010, they merged to become FK Dainava Alytus. However, they have yet to achieve their promotion aim.
Tauragė is located in eastern Lithuania on the border with Kaliningrad. This has meant it has hosted various battles from invaders, the First World War flattening the city but from it a very industrial replacement grew. It's prosperity made it a power base, so when the Soviets took control in 1940, they annexed a lot of local dissidents, including the parents of Roman Abramovich who were sent to Siberia. FK Tauras Tauragė were formed in 1922. They won the Lithuanian championship in 1987, though you probably know them for their 5-4 aggregate win over Llanelli in the first round of the 2010 Europa League.
The "Dzūko" stadium was opened in 1924 as an open field. It was rebuilt with spectator facilities in 1957, and then a couple of stands in 1993. However, a major rebuild took place in 2010, bringing it up to Lyga A standard, as well as UEFA youth level. It is an amazing location, completely surrounded by forest.
The focal point is a large main stand.
With a bank of open seating opposite.
Behind the goal, viewing was reminiscent of the old days at St Albans, aka the Gary Westwood era.
As pre match entertainment, the club had laid on a pensioner cycling around the athletics track, desperately trying to find a way out into the spectator area.
Here he performs his one man, reverse keirin.
Success at last.
Despite the money lavished on the grounds und, there were still some more traditional grundsman tools, in this case a paving slab twined to the roller.
The players lined up.
And entered the fray...
...to the adoring masses.
Although there was a pocket of home ultras.
Ghostbusters turned up.
The home side took the lead within 90 seconds.
Which sent the folk of the far away tree into a frenzy.
Almost immediately followed up with a second.
If there is one ground I would agree with pyrotechnics breaching fire regulations, it would be at this tinder box.
But we lived to see another goal.
Rather than the usual rainwater, dirt or pidgeon shit, clearing the seat involved the removal of an inch thick lining of pine needles, fircones and somehow, acorns.
It seems that the ground has been funded by the EU. Good. I'd much rather that £310 million a day goes into things like this rather than being spunked away by the NHS to prolong the life of racially intolerant dithering pensioners (other forms of pensioners are available, I'll tell you if I ever meet one).
Halftime and the search for a warm drink took me to the depths of the main stand, where the historic team pictures were on display. Say what you want about communists, but they appeared to have excelled at garland wearing, with the cup holding captain and off duty Stasi officer both looking resplendent in theirs. Other things the communists did well were national anthems, and limiting consumer choice. The latter I wholeheartedly agree with as shoe shopping is such a ball ache so if the only option is brown or black, I'd happily forego a regime of social mobility for it.
I finally found the coffee machine, located outside the dressing rooms. This is the first top level football game I've been to, where I've had to get a player who had scored two first half goals, to translate the 'no sugar' button on a vending machine as he made his way out to the second half. You wouldn't get that at Stamford Bridge. Possibly Vicarage Road.
Outside the stand was a particularly rateable away coach, belching out more smoke than a xxx.
The adjacent sports centre had captured the charm of the architecture of a juvenile detention centre.
The teams took the field to the roar of the rapturous crowd.
Second half and more goals.
And more rain accompanied goals.
Having reached the half decade, the home side eased off a bit.
A final circuit of the ground saw our friend on the bike making his reverse journey.
The game ended 5-0.
I made my way out via the less scenic main entrance.
Next morning and meltdown. The plan was for a very early morning bus to Vilnius airport, for a flight to Rzeszow via Warsaw, for early afternoon football and a train down to Krośnie for the Speedway Friendsip Cup. Except a text in the middle of the night informed me the plane had been unable to land at Vilnius, and was instead at Kaunus. Not a major issue for me, as Alytus is closer to the latter, with regular busses. So it was an early morning stroll to the bus station, with my pitch circumnavigating pensioner from last nights game, now ambling down the fast lane of the town bypass.
However, only when on the bus did it occur to me that my main bag was in a luggage locker in Vilnius train station. Again, no real challenge, speedway beats dirty pants any day, so on I went.
Except I then remembered that the memory card with all the photos from the first week of the trip, along with the semi complete write ups, were in the bag, and whilst I could forego a few clothes and a bag, this was more of a tester.
So a bale mid journey at Balbieriškis check options. This was a mistake as the first thing I found out was that there was a mid morning flight from Vilnius that would have got me to the speedway, if not the football. Except there now wasn't a bus for another two hours, and that was to Kaunus.
So I watched a bloke trying to flog another bloke a VW Passat. I can confirm that tyre kicking appears to be an international trait in the world of second hand car sales.
Checking available options, I settled on a day in Kaunus with an afternoon game at the Darius Girėno stadium, and an overnight in Vilnius with a stupid o'clock morning flight back to Luton.
Eventually my bus arrived, with no obvious signs of a hand shake on the Passat.
The forests had now all finished and the journey was across some very uninspiring flatland.
Into Kaunus and a drop off at the bus station.
Parked up was this endurance coach services from hell, and to think I shirked a four hour coach over the boarder. When this bus departed Köln, the Berlin Wall was probably still standing.
Not having any real plans, and having previously visited Kaunus, I considered these options...
... but instead it was a few fill in moves. Firstly a few stops on the trolley bus system.
With an interior more akin to transport for death row inmates going to a state penitentiary.
Which dropped me off in the centre.
Where I took a picture of a church, but then remembered how shit being a proper tourist is, so stopped doing it.
Kaunus is the second biggest city in Lithuania, and this is the centre, on a Saturday. I used to have a season ticket for Celtic Crusaders rugby league when they played at Brewery Field. I was always amazed at how dead Bridgend was on a Saturday afternoon. At least that had the excuse of the town centre only containing discount shoe shops. This is Lithuania's second biggest city on the busiest shopping day.
Lithuania seems to love a funiculars railway, and Kaunas had two to choose from.
I headed for the Žaliakalnio funikulierius.
Which despite driving positions, moved off on its own accord with only me present.
No takers for the opposite car.
Normally funicular railways go a distance up a steep hillside to either a residential area or a scenic view. This one went about twenty feet up a gradual incline.
The major hill top tourist destination proved to be a patch of industrial wasteland.
With great views of the side of someone's house.
No wonder the Napoli ultras wanted to claim it as their own.
I forewent the opportunity to clear both cars, and instead wandered off to the game, down the altogether more scenic footpath.
Stopping off at the local supermarket to get water, and the opportunity to watch pensioners choose live carp to be clubbed to death infront of them, to take home for their evening meal. A strange way to spend a Saturday lunchtime, but more entertaining than football focus.
The conger eel in the adjacent tank kept looking at me rather sinisterley, and I held out for as long as I could pretending to be choosing between the myriad of shake n bake, but I never got to see the evil bastard being lamped by a bit of 2 by 4, So I headed off to there.
I know what you're thinking; that looks just like the venue of the 7th FIMBA European Maxibasketball Championship?
Well done you.
I skipped the opportunity to find out what FIMBA stood for, and instead headed onto the stadium, which loomed above a memorial that looked like an etch-a-sketch drawing of a cock.
After yesterday's ET alike vista, today's entrance-to-ground-TV-equivalent, was the concrete edifice view Tony Stamp and Reg Hollis would get when they were sent to the Jasmine Allen estate in the Bill.
It would seem a middle aged woman in a reasonably priced car is the standard ticket office procedure as this time, three euro got me 'bilietas' from the VW Golf on the right, its official credentials being confirmed by a home printed poster in the passenger window.
Kauno Žalgiris 1 v Sūduva 5, A Lyga
FM Spyris were formed in 2005 as the senior team of the Taurus boys club. It doesn't seem particularly difficult though become a senior team in Lithuania as they started in the third tier of the national set up. In 2010 they formed links with BC Žalgiris, one of Europe,s leading basketball clubs who play in Kaunas, taking on their name, which refers to a famous Lithuanian battle victory over Poland. However, this caused issues as there was already an FK Žalgiris, the club I'd seen play in Thursday evening. This issue continues as Kaunas Žalgiris were promoted to 1 Lyra in 2013 and then in 2015, to the top A Lyga, so both clubs are now in the same division.
Sūduva are from Marijampolė, which is in the south west extremes of the country, its location means it has switched hands with Poland a few times. The football club were formed in 1921, but were originally very much a local concern. However, post WW2 it grew in the Lithuanian national championship, under the name of Žalgiris, there doesn't seem to be much originality in club titles over here. By the 1960s they had adopted their current identity, and were in the top division. Independence saw the club crash down to the third division, it taking ten years to regain their position in the top flight. Since the 2012 return, Sūduva have been one of the top sides, never finishing below fifth and having ten European campaigns, though their first season did give Celtic an 8-0 record European win.
The S Dariaus ir S Girėno stadionas was opened in 1925, but its development into the major Valstybinis stadionas - state stadium, didn't come until the 1930s. Wooden spectator structures were built, but these were replaced in the 1970s with the concrete construction that is still present. There was a 2010 proposal to develop the ground as the home for the national football team, but instead the Vėtra Stadium in Vilnius was chosen. But Lithuanians like a five year cycle of grand stadium announcements, and last year saw the city major propose a scheme that will see a new roof in order to attain UEFA accreditation. The stadium is the only one I know of that is now named after two 1930s pilots who crashed whilst attempting a non-stop flight to America, namely Steponas Darius and Stasys Girėnas.
The stadium is a joyous creation with a near vertical upper tier, scaling them is less reaching a seat and more of a re-enaction of a Dave Lee Roth album cover.
The seating is strangely spaced out, with the lower tier covering three sides, and the upper tier wrapping around one touchline.
With a seperate bank of seating behind one of the goals.
The toilets were of a very orderly yet open design.
I know what you are now thinking, doesn't the stadium look like the venue for the 2009 under 23 European athletics championship?
My, you are observant today.
There were the obligatory eight travelling ultras.
Their home equivalent only having a presence in sticker form.
From the depths of the hillside, the teams emerged, the officials being escorted by the least required security in the history of the game.
The players lined up with very reluctant mascots.
Who, as soon as they were let go of, showed better movement than any of the players did in the rest of the afternoon, as the kids hurled off to the relative dryness of the stands.
I say relative dryness, as despite being solid concrete, the upper tiers somehow managed to leak onto absolutely every seat below. Added to this was a strange drainage system which gathered the rain into channels, which had multiple purposes of firstly, obstructing the view of any ball which went above eight foot in height (there were quite a lot).
To channel the leaks over an even greater area below.
And to then piss the water out onto the running track, thus further obscuring the view and having the wind blow most of it back into the lower tier. Notice the ball boy retrieving a wayward shot from the primitive drainage channel. I'm not 100% sure he was ever seen again.
Sūduva took an early lead.
When the stadium was refurbished, the builders obviously realised they were six seats short of the agreed capacity, so just banged a few in one corner, in a fashion that Combined Counties League clubs normally use for ground grading requirements.
The visitors added a second.
The seating blocks were named after famous European destinations. And Coventry.
The upper tiers gave some fantastic views.
The flagpoles less so.
This being the second biggest game of the day in Lithuania, had captured the hearts and minds of the Kanaus public, with a hearty 35 attendees counted.
These were my favourite group, who spent the game equally embroiled in necking shots and violently arguing with each other, without one appearing to even notice the match in progress. More of this please, far more entertaining than watching patient build up play.
I made my way to the upper echelons of the away end.
Which gave a good view of how steep the stands were.
A grandstand view of a goal for the visitors.
And their celebrating fans.
And another lonely soul at football.
Half time came and the opening 45 minutes had taken its toll on the grass pitch.
Come the second half and I inadvertently ended up in the press area. A challenge from afar from a steward, had me produce my iPad, phone and notepad, and dig out my UK rail pass, which apparently convinced him of my journalist credentials.
This area had the luxury of some sort of roof cladding, so was actually a dry position to see a Sūduva fourth.
Although the home side embarked on a late comeback.
Five minutes to pull back three goals.
Today's joyrider was a bloke racing around on a cabriolet milk float, who parked up at various points to watch the game.
If he wanted to see goals, he was at the wrong end.
As the visitors added a fifth.
And so the game ended 1-5.
The travelling faithful had a bit of a dance.
Footnote to the game, was that Sūduva went on to break Žalgiris hold on honours and win the league. Though more importantly, this game was confirmed as having the lowest attendance of any game of any club in the whole season, though I still think the reported figure is twice what it was.
I disappeared into suburbia.
Where a seemingly never ending flight of stairs, took me down to the centre.
Or more importantly, the station. Which turned out to be the old station.
This rather grander structure being the modern equivalent.
Where the unit linking to Baliostock in Russia was awaiting. Six hours in that, ouch!
Last time I did it, this was the haulage, from 2008ish. The eagle eyed may notice the platform presence of recent Euro travelling companions Ciaran and Jacko the Liar.
I was onto a EJ575,
which are basically the Czech Class 471 'CityElefant', but with a slightly funkier seating layout.
This took me back to Vilnius.
My immediate concern was being repatriated with my luggage, or more importantly, the memory cards.
The Belarussian unit was rattling about in the international platforms, waiting to head off to Minsk.
Where at last there was some loco hauled action with a TEP70BS waiting to take out the overnight Moscow.
From there it was over to the airport unit...
...for another six minutes haulage through to the airport for a few hours kip.
In my non-flying periods, getting home from Vilnius was as much of an adventure as the stay itself, as it would involve loco hauled up to Riga...
...for the narrow gauge to the Latvian border...
...for an Estonian unit...
...up to the coast at Tallinn...
...and the hydrofoil to Helsinki for a Sr2 to the ferry terminal...
...for the truck ferry across the Baltic to Warnemünde...
...and a train across Germany to Brussels for the Eurostar to Blighty.
Now it is out of the airport hotel and into departures.
A walk across the apron to the Hungarian low cost operator.
And three hours later, awaiting a train at a misty Luton Airport Parkway. It saves three days but is less of an adventure.
Although East Midlands Trains don't appear to roll out of bed until after lunch on a Sunday, so it was back into St Pancras for the first northbound East Coast, which itself doesn't leave Kings Cross until 0940.
Where a change at Leeds got me back to Sowerby for early afternoon.
For the conclusion of 9008 miles of travel, 5806 by plane, 2757 rail, 373 road, 72 ferry, 15 football games and 27 grounds.
And if you have read all the reports, that is 25,477 words and 757 photos you have endured, which is perhaps just as much of a challenge.
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