Warsaw’s rush hour is just behind us. Time to loosen up those stiff legs. As we turn into the rest area, I notice it: This somewhat run-down car park, the small restaurant, the old tree. I rummage through the photo app. Indeed: This is exactly where we were in the summer of 2017, seven years ago, when we first set off for Lithuania. In the photo, my then still tiny co-pilot is sitting on the roof of our new, old Volvo, gazing dreamily into the Polish sunset. That trip was the first test for our trusty travel companion, which has since taken us on many more adventures. We became huge fans of Lithuania back then and are always happy to return. But what is it that draws us there again and again?
The Wild East, very close
Our first visit back then was quite spontaneous. I had two weeks off work and the little co-pilot and I were in the mood for nature and adventure. I’m actually a big fan of Eastern Europe, but travelling to the Balkans, for example, would be too far with a four-year-old in such a short time. So we got out the atlas map app and panned around. Hm, we’ve never been to the Baltic States. Lithuania is the closest Baltic country to Germany. Crossing Poland from West to East should be doable. So we packed up the Volvo and off we went. We were so impressed by those few days that we’ve been coming back ever since. Every time we brainstorm before a short holiday, the suggestion inevitably comes up: “And what about Lithuania?”
How to get there: It’s around 900 kilometres from our home town Berlin to the Lithuanian border, most of it on an excellent motorway and dual carriageways. If you’ve got the stamina, you can do it in a day. We usually make one or two stops in Poland on the way (dumplings! beer!). Caution, deception: the last stretch after Warsaw to the Lithuanian border looks relatively short on the map, but actually takes as long as the entire stretch from the German border before, depending on traffic.
Eastern Europe with a Scandinavian vibe
This time, seven years after our first visit, our new vehicle, a Japanese SUV from the 90s, which is soon to embark on an even longer journey, has to prove itself on the same route. If it can withstand Lithuanian corrugations and forest tracks, it will also master the world’s roads.
The traffic thins out, the forest thickens. We are about an hour from the Lithuanian border. The unspoilt pine forest with its lush green mossy ground reminds me a little of Scandinavia. Maybe that’s exactly it: I love the vast forests, the lakes and the clear air in the far north. But I’m even more fascinated by Eastern Europe. The adventurous, the imperfect. Above all: the almost boundless warmth and hospitality of the people. In Lithuania you get the best of both worlds.
A paradise for camping close to nature
Almost there! The first stovyklavietė after the border is ours. We turn off the motorway onto a small country road, then onto a bumpy path that leads us several kilometres through the forest to Lake Slavanto. Stovyklavietė is the name given to official campsites in Lithuania, usually run by the nature conservation authority. I scouted out this place last year on the way back from a solo trip to the Baltic States. I set up the tent in a clearing and quickly pay the 1.30 Euro fee for our stay in the regional park using the QR code. The sun sets over the lake and I head for a Lithuanian IPA. My young co-pilot has once again taken the long journey totally relaxed. Now she’s chasing after the little toads that populate our pitch in their hundreds.
How to camp: In Lithuania, wild camping outside of national/regional/nature parks is permitted or at least tolerated. However, there is a wide range of simple, rustic, mostly state-run campsites within the parks. These are either free of charge or can be used for a small fee. They range in size from tiny, with just one pitch, to huge forest areas that line entire lakeshores. Fire pits, outhouses and often covered seating are usually available. The Lithuanians themselves love camping, but pitching up in close proximity to other campers is thankfully frowned upon, so you can always find a nice, quiet spot.
Tip: Simply search for campsite or stovyklavietė in the map app.
Lithuania tastes best self-caught
A few days later, we’re driving to one of our favourite spots north-east of Vilnius. For my co-pilot, this is the highlight she’s been looking forward to all this time. On our last visit, we had made the acquaintance of a Lithuanian family there. We were still in the roof tent when they unpacked several crab nets next to us and filled them with frozen fish. Curious, I asked what it was all about. Before we knew it, my little girl and I were involved in a day-long crayfish catching operation: we tied the nets to a stick and carefully placed them under the river bank, which had been washed under by the current. Then, after a bit of waiting, we pulled the net upwards with a jerk. The catch was impressive: We pulled several buckets of the invasive American signal crayfish out of the river. The family said goodbye, but not without leaving us a bucket of crayfish and a recipe. Great, we travel for experiences like this. Of course, we have to try it again on our own this time. Not as successful as under the expert guidance of the locals, but my fishing-enthusiastic co-pilot pulls a nice perch out of the river. We round off the day with a Baltic fish platter.
Fishing in Lithuania: For fishing, you simply have to buy a permit. For whatever reason, you can get them at the tobacco stands in the larger supermarkets (e.g. Iki, Maxima). Supposedly, you can now also buy licences online, but the website was not available on our last visit. The licence for one week costs around 10 euros and allows you to fish in all public waters.
Lithuania has many faces
So why do we keep coming back? – It’s probably the mixture of adventure, not too long of a journey and the wild, unspoilt nature. We also never get bored: the country is incredibly diverse. There are beautiful beaches in the West, dense forests and countless lakes in the East. Lots of wide open spaces in between. One moment a village of charmful wooden houses passes by, next thing you drive through a small town of brutalist Soviet buildings, factory chimneys and those absurdly oversized sculptures.
So we are once again richer in new impressions as our short road trip draws to a close. But we know for sure that there is enough to keep us coming back!
Translated to English with the help of AI.
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