People in Britain tend to think of the three ex-Soviet Baltic republics, if they think of them at all, as a uniform group and to assume they're much of a muchness. I have to admit that before I went to the region I rather shared that assumption.
Once there, one learns a bit about their ... Read review
Advantages: Nice thought, and a good place in which to think it Disadvantages: Not much to see, except perhaps on April 1st
People in Britain tend to think of the three ex-Soviet Baltic republics, if they think of them at all, as a uniform group and to assume they're much of a muchness. I have to admit that before I went to the region I rather shared that assumption.
Once there, one learns a bit about their individual histories and ethnicities, and observes their differing national characters. The Estonians are polite and efficient, but perhaps somewhat ... ...forthcoming; compared to Tallinn, Riga has an edgy feel. And the Lithuanians? They are sometimes described as the Italians of the region, though I'm not sure that quite does them - or the Italians - justice. But they do seem more easy-going than their neighbours, and there is an offbeat, unconventional side to their nature. Why else would they allow yet another, a fourth, republic to declare its independence in the heart of their capital?
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People in Britain tend to think of the three ex-Soviet Baltic republics, if they think of them at all, as a uniform group and to assume they're much of a muchness. I have to admit that before I went to the region I rather shared that assumption.
Once there, one learns a bit about their individual histories and ethnicities, and observes their differing national characters. The Estonians are polite and efficient, but perhaps somewhat stolid. The Latvians are brisker, sharper and less forthcoming; compared to Tallinn, Riga has an edgy feel. And the Lithuanians? They are sometimes described as the Italians of the region, though I'm not sure that quite does them - or the Italians - justice. But they do seem more easy-going than their neighbours, and there is an offbeat, unconventional side to their nature. Why else would they allow yet another, a fourth, republic to declare its independence in the heart of their capital?
Admittedly, no one takes the independence of Užupis very seriously, not even its citizens, one of whose aims in life is not to be too serious. These aims, or at least the principles that underly them, are succinctly stated in the 41 articles of the Užupian Constitution, which is displayed in three languages on a wall for all to see.
For example:
* Article 1 - "Everyone has the right to live by the River Vilnelė, and the River Vilnelė has the right to flow by everyone."
Just as well perhaps that not everyone takes advantage of this right, or the banks of the Vilnelė might become very crowded. The Vilnelė is the lesser of the two rivers that have their confluence at Vilnius. It is in places a pretty stream, overhung by beeches and willows, and it forms a loop around the 60 hectares (148 acres) of Užupis, a name that translates as "on the other side of the river". Somehow, the district seems even smaller than this. Passing the sign that tells you you are entering the republic, you cross the main bridge and soon come to a crossroads decorated by the statue of an angel on a column (see pic above). This is the town centre, insofar as it has one. Ahead, a street flanked by some handsome, if rather dilapidated, period houses heads uphill, and five minutes walk that way will take you out of Užupis at the top. Exploring down the streets to either side you can find a few side-alleys, back yards, apartment blocks of various vintages, a cemetery and a school, possibly an art school, with some sculpture in its garden beside the river. And that's about it.
* Article 25 - "Everyone has a right to be of various nationalities."
It was ten years ago, in 1997, that the Užupians decided to create their own nationality. The area had been neglected and rundown for decades, ever since the Second World War. Pre-war, it had been mainly a Jewish quarter, with typically catastrophic consequences during the Nazi occupation. Battered and depopulated, it was afterwards occupied by those on the fringes of society, such as vagrants, prostitutes and petty criminals. These were soon joined by students, artists, actors and writers looking for a cheap and colourful place to live, and the area gained a reputation for its racy, Bohemian lifestyle, attracting more of the same. Just the kind of people, in fact, who would think it a wacky idea to found their own republic.
* Article 26 - "People have the right to celebrate, or not celebrate, their birthdays."
Appropriately enough, Užupis celebrates its birthday on April 1st, with a festival, street party, art market and concert. On that day, apparently, visitors crossing the bridge will be greeted by motley-clad Užupians offering to stamp their passports. The residents also, it seems, hold one or two other festivals at other times of the year, but after extensive research I've been unable to discover what these signify or on what dates they fall. I can't imagine they're closely-guarded secrets; more likely the Užupians either haven't decided yet among themselves or haven't thought to tell the rest of the world. On the day on which my wife and I were there, a midweek day in summer, no one was meeting visitors and not many people were around at all, other than a few students sketching by the riverside and a few fellow-tourists. Perhaps we were there too early in the day (between about three and six in the afternoon) and none of the locals were up yet.
* Article 18 - "Everyone has the right to be quiet."
...and most of the citizens seemed to be exercising it. We'd expected to find a noisily chaotic district, but it seemed quieter and calmer than almost anywhere else in Vilnius. But the peacefulness did allay one of our concerns - that it would prove to be full of hippie hype and tacky souvenirs, in the manner, for example, of Haight-Ashbury. In fact, we found hardly anything of this kind, which was welcome, even if it made for a rather uneventful visit. Apart from a useful but conventional mini-supermarket on the corner opposite the Angel, the only shops seemed to be one or two fairly serious art galleries/salesrooms. We failed to find the most famous of these, the Alternatyvaus Meno Centras, described in the guidebook as 'a tumbledown, brightly painted house on the riverbank', but I understand it keeps eccentric hours and maybe it simply wasn't open. Searching for it, though, did take us into some decrepit corners, decorated with lively grafitti and by what might either have been installation art or heaps of rubbish according to interpretation. The Bernardine cemetery is also a bit decrepit, with moss-encrusted graves, but is attractively situated amid greenery beside the river.
* Article 10 - "Everyone has the right to love and take care of the cat."
I don't know whether the cat we met in a backyard was the one referred to in this precept, but it readily condescended to accept a bit of homage.
* Article 13 - "A cat is not obliged to love its owner, but must help its owner in times of need."
We decided to leave it to the Užupians to explain this obligation to the cat.
* Article 28 - "Everyone has the right to share what they have."
No one, however, seemed to be exercising this right while we were there, at least not to the extent of sharing with tourists. The cafés all seemed to be charging at very much the same rate as cafés elsewhere in Vilnius, as did the mini-supermarket. What's more, although Užupis reputedly has its own currency, all the money changing hands appeared to be Lithuanian. Guidebooks make Užupis sound as if it's a hotbed of intellectual café society, but, if so, the highbrow ferment is remarkably well-hidden. The Užupio Kavinė beside the bridge provides a pleasant deck for sitting and watching the sunlight dapple the river and the mermaid statue set in the bank opposite, but it's hardly Les Deux Magots. Similarly, Užupis is sometimes compared to Montmartre. Forget it; they both have their attractions, but they are in no way similar. Užupis is simply too sparsely furnished with places to go and things to do. There are, at most, four or five cafés, and they do not cluster around a centre, and therefore do not create a café atmosphere. Restaurants? Well, there are one or two in the little area around the Angel, including Užupis Klasika, which has a (carefully cultivated?) reputation for being quaint and disorganised. Another, up the hill, the Tores, is well spoken of for its rooftop terrace and view out over Vilnius Old Town. We didn't go in, but the menu suggested their prices were normal for Vilnius too, which is to say pretty good value by British standards. We'd eat there if we went back.
* Article 15 - "Everyone has the right to doubt, but it's not a duty."
It's easy to be cynical about Užupis and its constitution, maybe too easy. They can come across as pretentious, naive or whimsical, even all three. Certainly, self-conscious in their quirkiness. But who are we world-weary cynics to deny the Užupians the right to do things their way in their own republic? As Article 32 says, "everyone is responsible for their own freedom" and (Article 34) "everyone has the right to be misunderstood". I think I misunderstood the Užupians at the outset. I suspected that they might be having a laugh at the expense of outsiders, taking the Užupis. But the absence of tourist trappery changed my view on that. They're having a laugh all right, but only among themselves, and not, I think, at anyone's expense, which makes it rather admirable, even endearing. So I was mistaken, but (Article 4) "everyone has the right to make mistakes".
It may not surrender, but Užupis won't last, not in its present form at least. Possibly, undefended, it already hasn't lasted - hard for me to guess what it was like at its inception, only having been there once. It will either become fashionable, in which case it will be spruced up as developers convert the ramshackle buildings into bijou residences while entrepreneurs open trendy eateries and arty-crafty souvenir shops, or it will become passé and its character will fade away. I suspect the former, the harder to defeat.
* Article 9 - "Everyone has the right to be lazy and do nothing at all."
Call me lazy if you like, but I don't think I'll quote all of the articles, simply because it would be to take them too seriously. Many are bland and unremarkable. In any case, I feel I've gone on long enough about Užupis; when you visit, you realise that there's really very little there to go on about. It's not a country, even if it does have its own President (currently a noted poet and musician), flag and volunteer army (said to number about 12 men; no one seems sure of the exact number). It's certainly not a country as Frank Zappa - a local hero for some obscure reason with his own monument, though this is sited elsewhere in Vilnius - would have defined it: "with its own airline and beer". No, not even the beer, which has to be imported from Lithuania. It's not even truly a tourist attraction, except perhaps on April Fool's Day, though you could say it's all the better for that.
It does, nevertheless, somehow enhance the appeal of Vilnius. Vilnius is an admirable enough city, with a rambling old centre, some fine Baroque churches, an ancient university, and a (disappointingly small) castle on a hill. It cannot, though, quite match the impressive historic monuments of Tallinn, nor the vibrant buzz of Riga. There is a danger of it being regarded as the least attractive of the three, despite the fact that it is charming and inexpensive.
