Jūrmala

Jūrmala is thirty-three kilometres of white sand on the Gulf of Riga, and behind the sand, among the pines, the wooden villas that the merchants of Riga built when the railway reached the beach in 1877 — carved verandas, turrets, art nouveau in timber — where the Latvian summer has been spent ever since, through empires, occupations and the sanatoriums the Soviets added on the shore. The Baltic here is shallow and warm by July; the towns along the strand run into one another between the sea and the Lielupe river; and the concert hall at Dzintari plays in the forest on summer nights.

The traveller takes the train from Riga — thirty minutes — and gets off at Majori for Jomas iela, the pedestrian street of cafés, and the beach at its end; walks the sand for an hour in either direction, because it does not end; photographs the villas on the quiet streets behind, some restored, some sinking gracefully; climbs the wooden tower in the Dzintari forest park above the pines; goes west to Ķemeri for the boardwalk across the great bog at dawn or dusk; swims, or in September walks the tide line for amber after a storm; and stays for a concert if the season allows.

The Guide's honesty: Jūrmala is a beach resort in the Baltic sense — quiet, pine-scented, family, with a short season and long empty months —; the water is warm for two months and bracing for the rest; the villas are the true attraction and are best seen on foot, slowly, on the streets one block from the shore; the sanatoriums are part of the history and some still work; the train is cheap and the summer Sundays are shared with all of Riga; and the town's calm is exactly its gift — bring a book and a towel and no plans.