The train is an hour ride from Riga, and this train is not in a hurry. It slowly puttered it way forward, and I had assumed half the train was going to alight in Sigulda too, as a group of about 50 people had appeared at Riga station and my brain immediately convinced itself this was a tour group. And yet, to my pleasant surprise there was just a handful of people getting off, including a German man who looked some kind of athlete, who had actually asked me about which train to catch to Sigulda. Was a I looking Latvian? Had I gone native?

The castle complex is a good 45min walk from the station. The weather had made the switch from unusually cold, to unusually hot, sitting around 26 everyday. The way to the castle along the quiet shadeless streets was a little taxing, and ahead if me was the German power walking like a Terminator, with a singled minded determination to reach the destination.

The complex opens to a manor estate, with a beautiful garden being maintained by an entourage of ride on lawn mowers. The estates houses were converted into souvenir shops, and adjacent to the manor sat the ruins if the Livonian Knights castle, which dates back to 1207.

A short trek nearby took me to the cable car, which lead over the valley to Krimulda Manor. As I approached I felt something didn’t look right. I couldn’t see any carriages moving along the twisted steel ropes.

I’m not sure if it was just because it was a Monday when a lot if attractions tend to close, or they were preparing for the start of the high season next month, but sadly the cables and their cars sat silently and unmoving.

I looked across the green valley of lust vibrant forest, and squinted to see if the German, determined to cross valley, had climbed the cables and was shimmering hand over hand gripping the overhead cabling. I didn’t see him, but I am convinced he probably made it across before I arrived.

With the cable car closed, my feet sore, and the sun beating down above, I decided make my way back to Riga. There is another castle in this area, and I had read how they’re all sprawled out from each other, the Turaida Reserve was a 2km walk away. I couldn’t bring myself to make the hike, knowing afterwards it would be a 3km walk back to the train station.

Back on the train and resting my feet for the hour long journey, I dreaded returning to the apartment. Aside from the rigmorale of getting access on day one, the apartment sat on the 6th floor, with no elevator. Those six flights of stairs at the end of a day. after you’ve been walking everywhere, took a toll. I decided then to leave this apartment behind and book a new place to stay. One that didn’t require secret codes to get in, and wasn’t a heart attack in waiting when climbing up to you room.

I booked an actual hotel for the next 3 nights in Old Riga, and arriving at the real hotel was a happy place. A check in counter instead of some cold war spy lock box code hiding keys. A human greeting you. Elevators. A bar fridge. Breakfast!

Yeah, I think I’ll be avoiding self service apartments in future travels.