
An Englishman in Latvia
An Englishman in Latvia
On driving in Latvia
In this episode, I describe what it is like to drive in Latvia. We explore why Latvia has a high road accident mortality rate and what the authorities are doing to address that. I recommend some great drives and three campsites to stay at. I also visited the Riga Motor Museum and saw its excellent collection of Soviet-era vehicles.
Thanks for listening!
Episode 6: On driving in Latvia
Latvia is a country of 64,589 square kilometres with less than 2 million people. Outside of the capital city of Riga, there is much space through an undulating plain of forest, agricultural land and coastline. It has a road network of 70,846 km. There are excellent, newly tarmacked - thanks to EU funding - main roads with simple names from A1 to A13, plus regional routes with P and then a number. It spans out like a spider’s web from Riga in the centre. That makes up just less than a third of the total. Two-thirds are local roads, many so-called stone roads not paved with tarmac. You can see the trail of a vehicle on a dirt road from the dust rising like a moving tornado. But for foreigners who have never encountered dirt roads, they are not challenging to drive. Slow down, or you will lose bits of your vehicle or teeth!
Latvijas Valsts Celi, Latvian State Roads, has a lovely interactive map online at lvceli.lv. You can see the road network across the country, where road construction projects are ongoing, where traffic restrictions exist - perhaps because of snow or ice in winter, severe road accidents (more on that later) and traffic intensity. The guide to the map is in Latvian or in English. Website only - no app in an app store!
With that extensive network of roads, some well-maintained, some not, driving should be a pleasurable experience. That isn’t my experience. I drive ultra defensively to survive. No, there isn’t a war here. Just the behaviour of other drivers! I will talk about some of my favourite drives later in this episode. So why the negative attitude to driving in Latvia? A few more statistics, if I may, will help to explain.
Although the number of registered vehicles in Latvia has been decreasing - 1,073,176 vehicles in 2008, 803,546 licensed vehicles in 2017, and 749,483 in 2020, the number of used vehicles registered increased by 20% in 2021. The most popular used car was the BMW - yes, boy or girl racer car of choice, followed by Volkswagen, Audi and Volvo. The most popular type was the BMW series 3. I travel at least once a year on the Stena Line ferry between Travemunde in Germany and Liepaja in Latvia. The ferry often has five or more double-length vehicle transporters on board. Each takes about 12 cars. All written-off cars are mainly from the UK (where the steering wheel is on the right side of the vehicle, therefore the wrong side for Latvia). Vehicles to be repaired in Latvia or another Baltic State and sold. There are two factors at play: for many, spending power is reduced due to a significant increase in energy and food prices. The other factor is the lack of decent new cars in Latvia. As I learned from a relative on my wife’s side who sells new cars for a major manufacturer, their stocks are now exhausted, and they are telling customers that it will be a two-year wait for a new car. He said that many individuals, rather than companies, come in having saved the money to buy a new car - and expect to be able to drive away with their choice. To protect the embarrassment, he starts his sales talk with, “you know that there is a two-year wait for a new car at the moment?” So, lots of second-hand cars.
But that still doesn’t answer my concerns about driving in Latvia. Next bit of information to digest. Eurostat data from 2020 shows that Latvia continues to record more road deaths as a proportion of the population than most of Europe.
Latvia recorded 73 road fatalities per million inhabitants in 2020. This figure is higher than in Estonia (45 deaths per million) and Lithuania (68 deaths per million across most of the country and 50 deaths per million in the Vilnius district).
Though Latvia ranks highly in the regional fatality data, large parts of Poland, Bulgaria, Romania, Greece, and Portugal fare even worse. However, the Swedish capital region of Stockholm (5 road fatalities per million inhabitants), the Austrian capital region of Vienna (6), and the northern German region of Hamburg (8) all had remarkably different fatality rates.
Why? Anna Kononova of Latvian State Roads said, "According to data in European countries, the three main reasons for car accidents are speeding, consuming alcohol before driving and not using safety belts. In Latvia, it is also the pedestrian factor." Gosh, blame the pedestrians! But she did admit that the "Condition of infrastructure also plays a major role in traffic safety control."
Research carried out by the European Road Safety Observatory claims that poor road surfacing conditions, especially in rural areas, are one of the leading causes of car crashes in Latvia. According to the data, only 57% of main roads are in good or very good condition. Even worse are gravel roads.
Ms Kononova said there was a solution: “The volume of traffic there is low, and money hasn’t been invested into their repair for years. The situation will change, with around €30 million spent yearly on local gravel roads."
Back to those errant pedestrians, “Special attention is paid to the safety of road users who are less protected — pedestrians and cyclists," adds Ms Kononova. "New crosswalks and bikeways are being constructed”. That is true with a lovely well-maintained cycle path from Riga to Jurmala just 100 metres from our home.
In general, though, Latvia spends less than its neighbours on road work. In 2017, state expenditure amounted to €159 million, while in Estonia, this figure was €210 million and €428 million in Lithuania. So the poor state of many Latvian roads is a factor.
But there is another problematic factor. Latvia's drunk driving rates are among the worst in Europe, with a massive 3,500 people losing their licenses due to drunk driving each year. Think about it, in this small country that is nearly ten people a day. In November 2022, the Latvian government changed the law to address this issue. Anyone found driving while heavily intoxicated will have their vehicle impounded, and the fine is the value of the vehicle and loss of licence for some time and possible imprisonment. Since November, the police have caught approximately 11 drunk drivers every day and impounded six cars a day. Most drunk drivers don't drive their own vehicles. Therefore the cars are returned to their rightful owners, but the drunk driver still has to pay the fine for the car's value.
A quarter of the drunk drivers were repeat offenders. They've been caught before, been deprived of licenses, kept driving without licenses, and even had a custodial sentence of two to four months behind bars. They are about 0.2% of all drivers. However, they are those who are most likely to have substantial alcoholism problems, a police spokesman said. Surprise, surprise. The State Revenue Service is auctioning the impounded cars of drunk drivers with no starting bid. But no chance to test drive the car before the auction. At the moment, there are 660 cars impounded, awaiting the payment of the fine or ready to be auctioned.
I recalled a Latvian language class lesson a few months ago. My fellow students were from Iran, South Africa, Morocco, Peru, Taiwan and two from Brazil, although they hadn’t visited Latvia yet. Except for me, they all complimented Latvian drivers on their courtesy and consideration. It is all relative, of course, so probably I shouldn’t even think about driving in their home countries!
How do I find driving in Latvia?
Over the last few years, much has been done to improve the road surface of main roads. Yet there are few motorways. This is a problem because Latvians love to overtake. They will risk their lives to be just one car in front. As I said earlier, driving in Latvia is about driving defensively. Latvians will follow a metre or less behind your vehicle to overtake it in their old, clapped-out BMW 3s. And don’t expect any order when overtaking a slow-moving vehicle like a lorry. Whoever puts their indicator on first and drives the most aggressively overtakes first.
But in this small country, you can find many quiet roads outside the cities. These are a few of my favourites. The coast road northwest of Jurmala (close to Riga) up to the Kolka peninsula, past fishing villages, beaches and smoked fish shacks, is an incredible drive. So too, is the coast road down from Kolka towards Ventspils, through a national park forest where you need to turn off the tarmac road onto the dirt roads to get to the small villages by the sea. It is well worth the effort as the beaches are mostly of beautiful sand and a sea in summer that invites you to take a dip. In late summer, there are plenty of small jellyfish. We quickly exited the sea but noticed that local kids were still in the water and squishing the jellies with their feet! According to the locals, they don't sting or are already dead if washed up near the shore.
Another great drive is around Latgale’s lakes, the so-called blue lakes. You will find a mixture of paved main roads and minor gravel ones. Just slow down, and enjoy the scenery and the sense of adventure. Storks flying over your vehicle - stop if safe - and listen to the sound of their flight. A sneak peek of a beautiful lake through a gap in the forest.
Latvia has many guest houses and hotels throughout the country. We prefer camping as we have a camper van. A white Mercedes Marco Polo, to be precise. The van sleeps four with a pop-up roof. A double bed upstairs and the back bench seat transformed into a double bed downstairs. We are a family of three, so there is plenty of space. We can cook on a double gas stove or the oven if we connect to mains electricity, or use our portable stove and put twigs or cones in it and cook from that.
Camper vans, caravans or motorhomes are rare in Latvia. One summer, I put Marco Polo’s roof up to record something in peace in the vehicle. Neighbours were coming by to take photos as they had not seen such a vehicle before. We drove off to a campsite with the roof still up in England. But that is a story for another day!
Campsites in Latvia are primarily open from April to October. Some only during the school holiday months, from the beginning of June until the end of September. Most campsites have small wooden huts. That is the favourite option for most Latvians and Lithuanians, who love coming to Latvia’s coast for a short holiday. Tents are increasing in popularity, especially with families. Then there are the few camper vans and caravans. Before the pandemic, there were more foreign camper vans, but that has decreased dramatically.
A selection of favourite campsites. Firstly, the one we return to every summer, sometimes a few times. Kaleji at Mazirbe, a small Liv village on the coast south of the Kolka peninsular. As you enter the village, it is on the right before you get to the Liv house and the one and only shop. Run by a school teacher and only open over the summer school holiday, it has expansive grounds of grass and pine trees, with lots of hidden places to pitch. And about five of those cabins! Next to the shop, which despite its size, has a good range of food and drink, is a smoked fish kiosk. Well worth a look to see what they are selling and, of course, to buy some smoked fish. The beach is a five-minute walk away, with beautiful sand and sea.
My next favourite is near Cesis. Apalkalns site is situated near a lake and is very well-designed and maintained. There are a few cabins but plenty of pitches on the terraces above the lake. The site is equivalent to a European high standard. The town of Cesis nearby has a lovely castle and grounds right in the centre.
And the third choice is a site quite tucked away. Vinrozes is close to Durbe on the road to Liepaja, a beautiful city and port on the Baltic Sea. You can canoe on the lake, relax, watch the birds, or fish for dinner. So peaceful and quiet. Unless there is a wedding celebration - the owners keep those merry participants in a separate field by their house.
I went to the Riga Motor Museum. For those of you who have listened to other episodes, you will know that I enjoy visiting museums in Latvia. The motor museum isn’t in the old town of Riga, but one can easily get to the suburbs. I first visited it in the late 1990s before it was refurbished in 2016. It has more than 100 antique vehicles, making it the largest motor museum in the Baltics. It is housed in this wonderful building, standing like Dr Who’s Tardis, which, when you enter, appears to grow in size. You see just how many vehicles are inside it. Or, to other people, it may resemble an extensive car dealer’s showroom. A race track, Bikernieku, is close to the museum, and there is a small test track behind the museum. I went around that in an Audi TT in the 1990s. One of the perks of being a diplomat. Fun!
The Antique Automobile Club of Latvia was founded in 1972. In 1986 the foundation stone for the Riga Motor Museum was laid. It was opened in 1989, preserving and restoring vehicles, many of which are still driven on the small race track behind the museum. In 2009 it became a state entity and was reconstructed from 2013 - 2016. In 2019 it celebrated its 30th anniversary!
Latvia and cars have an interesting history. At the end of the First World War, after years of invaders and occupiers - do listen to my episode ‘On Castles and Invaders’ - the number of privately owned cars in Latvia was only six. However, the revival of the Latvian economy in the 1920s and 30s saw this number increase to 4,000 vehicles. People mainly imported cars from the United States - Chevrolet, Ford and Buick, and less from Europe - Renault and Fiat were the most popular European marques. In the 1930s, 2,000 Ford-Vairogs cars were manufactured in Latvia. Possibly the most famous vehicle manufactured in Latvia was a minibus made by the Riga Autobus Factory. The van was well known throughout Eastern Europe as they were the only producer of vans and minibuses in the Soviet Union and socialist countries. At the museum, you can change the paintwork from hippy bus to ambulance on their RAF minibus, and the new colour scheme is projected onto the vehicle. Riga Autobus Factory started producing vehicles in 1949, and its RAF-977 minibus looks like a copy of the classic VW Type 2 van. RAF eventually went bankrupt in 1998, unable to compete with international manufacturers after the demise of the Soviet Union.
My favourite part of the museum is the Soviet car industry collection. In Soviet times, people could only buy a few domestically produced models, and the waiting lists were several years long. Purchasing foreign cars was prohibited. The car models were often copied from foreign originals. For example, the popular family car, the Lada Zhiguli, was a copy of a Fiat. Those and Volgas were everywhere in Moscow when I lived there in the 1980s. The museum has a beautiful collection of renovated Moskviches, Zaparozhets, Volgas and Pobedas. The museum does more than show cars as it tries to recreate the times: you can virtually look through the windows of a Soviet-era prefabricated block of flats. Although people had very modest cars, the leaders of the Soviet Union had expensive and unique vehicles. The Latvian Antique Automobile Club acquired several of these vehicles for the Riga Motor Museum before the collapse of the Soviet Union. They now form the Kremlin collection. So funny to see a model of Stalin sitting in the back of a black limousine and Brezhnev’s crashed Rolls-Royce Silver-Shadow, with a dummy of Leonid Brezhnev at the wheel. How on earth the Club and museum acquired that, I do not know!
Memories came back from my life in Moscow in the early 1980s. Six-lane highways led to the Kremlin, with the fast lanes reserved for black Kremlin limousines. The ZiL lane, as we called it, after the type of armoured car built for Soviet leaders. My British colleague liked to use that lane. He wasn’t a great driver either, not noticing the policeman in the middle of the highway trying to move him out of the fast lane with his lighted pajalsta stick (the Russian pajalsta is ‘please’ in English, and my wife tells me they were called Zizlis in Latvian, a wand or baton). My colleague clipped his stick, sending the policeman twirling. Police cars rushed after my colleague. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately), he then ran out of petrol. He spent a day or two in a police cell until they released him.
The museum is well worth a visit. Find the pajalsta stick!
Driving in Latvia can be fun. There is certainly lots to see and experience in the country. Just have your wits about you!