All politics is local. So Congressman Thomas P. O'Neill, the late Democratic power broker, once famously observed. Although the legendary New England buttonholer's succinct aphorism originally concerned an election he'd lost in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in the 1930s, his words continue to resonate.
As they did recently when I set off by Jaguar XJ from a rock-music festival in Latvia to catch up with Toomas Hendrik Ilves, president of Estonia, the smallest, most northern, and most thriving of the three former Soviet republics on the Baltic Sea. Ilves and I once had a political connection, and while it had been some time ago, it was very local. How's that?
The Jaguar part is easy: the carmaker sent an XJ -- my current favourite luxury touring sedan -- overland from its German headquarters, through Poland, to meet us in Riga, Latvia, a handsome port city at the mouth of the Daugava River. From Riga, we would drive an hour to Salacgriva to catch my musical charges, the band OK Go, who were performing at the Positivus Festival, a multiday, open-air rock event. Then it was on to Estonia, where we'd spend a few nights in Pärnu, a sleepy seaside retreat on the Gulf of Riga, before heading to the country's capital, the quaint, walled city of Tallinn. Afterward, we'd travel back to Latvia for a few days of castle hopping before rounding out our whirlwind, 1000-mile Baltic tour with twenty hours in Lithuania, birthplace of my paternal grandmother.
Many surprises lay in store for our intrepid trio of English speakers -- me, photographer Martyn Goddard, and my bon vivant college chum, Richard Hart, a former New Orleanian who, like us, enjoys new places, strong drink, and four square meals a day. Eastern Europe gets a bad rap in the United States, even among those who've never been there, so a little look at the facts, up close and personal, couldn't hurt. Among the things we didn't anticipate: the natural beauty and abundance of unspoiled lands, the quality of the roads, and the general ease of transit.
The people look great, too: fit, well-dressed, handsome. Then there was the unexpected appeal of the architecture, along with the hospitable kindness of persons who once lived behind the Iron Curtain, individuals who we in the West were taught to imagine as grim, boring, and unfriendly, but who proved anything but. Still, for sheer improbability, the Estonian president's story gave everything and everyone else a run for their money.
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