We had dinner in the hotel restaurant with three other members of the group, and had a very convivial time! We are getting to know these people a little better, and they are fun to be with. There is Ken, who hails from ....wait for it.... Barrhead, Alberta, Canada. Imagine anyone calling a town in Canada after Barrhead! Deirdre from Ireland, and Govin from London (and Gujarat). A great bunch, all very keen on this kind of travel, in organised groups, on public transport, with a clued up guide like Vassily.
Late to bed, not so early to rise as the first suggested item on the agenda was a guided tour round olD Riga, starting at eleven. Ju and I didn't fancy that as it involved too much walking and standing, walking and standing, so we went off and did our own thing. We headed off through the railway station to the largest food market in Europe, partly housed in what had been Zeppelin Hangars in the first world war, then subsequently sold on to the city fathers, who turned them into market halls. They are vast, and you can imagine what a Zeppelin would have looked like, floating inside one.
The food was amazing, whole halls given to meat, to fruit and vegetables, and to fish, all of such colour and variety that you wouldnt believe.
After that we headed for the canal which borders Old Riga, and boarded a small launch to do the circuit of the city and the river, a trip which lasted about an hour. And a welcome seat! The canal section was a tad disappointing, as it involved diving into unlovely tunnels under supermarkets, shopping malls, the railway station and sundry office blocks, but when out in the open the stunning colours of the autumn trees were breathtaking.
FInally we wandered north for a few blocks to discover the famed art nouveau section of the city, discovering on the way a statue to the general who came up with the strategy to defeat Napoleon in his campaign to conquer Moscow. This guy had Barclay in his name, which intrigued me. Not very Latvian, or Russian, I thought. I was right. His family hailed from Aberdeenshire, where they were minor aristocracy, and they migrated to Latvia when he was a boy. There you go, that damned diaspora again.
The Art Nouveau quarter was Frenchier than French. Every building was covered with sculpted heads, designs, flowers, curlicues, pillars. Over the top!

In the evening after a bit of a siesta we headed for a small restaurant in the old town where we had a Latvian feast, with a guitarist providing live music. Good fun. Then back to the hotel for an early start to catch the bus to Vilnius. More later......