A thermal shock is automatically felt as I step out of the warm coach. The mean temperature is -11 degrees Celsius and I am only wearing a winter jacket and a pair of chinos.

I walk down the street whilst my body shivers. The sunshine reflects in frozen puddles and in the white snow, sterile, almost blinding and somehow extremely uplifting.

Pointy medieval architecture has been left behind in Latvia and Estonia, giving way to colonial-style Catholic cathedrals, painted in pastel shades and sprawling through a slightly hilly old town, creating a sea of bell towers fading in the foggy sunshine.

I climb up the red bricked castle sitting on top of a round soft hill for a better view of a modern Vilnius, spanning around the River Neris with tall glass buildings forming the Business District, united by colorful bridges to the Old Town, closely guarded by the equestrian image of Duke Gediminas overlooking the main square and cathedral.

In the Old Town, cozy cafes share the cobblestone streets with colorful souvenir shops and signs displaying prices in both litas and Euros and it’s just that Lithuania is about to change currencies from the first day of 2015, which makes visiting this country a steal for now.

And so, I found a warm cozy hostel for only a few Euros, friendly staff, WiFi, comfortable beds and amazing showers included.

I also found a full ‘stone baked pizza + beer combo’ for dinner in a nice restaurant for a few couple of Euros, just before walking around a Christmas market selling specialties from all over Europe.

Guests at the hostel and I decide to join forces, battling the now -15 degrees Celsius temperatures and walk around the Old Town in a modest attempt of pub crawling, enjoying cheap shots, pints and even an improvised mojito.

As the trip reaches its last day , I decide to relax and wander around the city, crossing the ice-covered Neris, through the neighborhood of Snipiskes, a part of the city which seems to have had some sort of identity crisis, with the Business District and its almost intimidating glass skyscrapers built only a few meters away from wooden old houses crowned by smoky chimneys and amalgamated into quiet villages.

I enter Kalvariju Market, also known as the Russian Market, for a better idea of Lithuania’s scent.
This can be felt through a vast lineup of small stalls selling fur coats, clothing, fresh fish, Belorussian bicycles, cheap cigarettes and Russian electric appliances, everything sold at the sound of loud merchants, having a smoke or drinking hot beverages to alleviate the effects of the omnipresent freezing temperatures.

The bright sunshine makes for a perfect return walk by the river bank, spotting brave ducks playing in the floating icebergs and old Soviet-style buses rocketing down the main avenue.

Back in Old Town, I visit the Presidential Palace (or Lithuania’s White House as some call it), the University built in a mixture of Gothic, Renaissance and Baroque style and opt for an out-of-ordinary and rich in saffron Uzbek lunch at the Christmas market.

Freezing temperatures only mean that the body can not stay outdoors for very long. In the end, the skin in my legs has been slightly burned due to constant cold trousers friction, sensitivity in my hands hands has been partially lost and my eyes feel sort of watery, forcing a truce and a few hours around cups of hot peppermint tea, laying in a comfortable bean bag.

Just at the city lights are turned on, I grab my backpack and walk to the cold train station where a cryptic voice announces the departure of old noisy trains to St. Petersburg, Moscow and Minsk, catching the attention of grumpy travelers carrying large shopping bags and suitcases in preparation for their overnight journeys.

The train ride to the airport takes only six minutes instead, checking in and boarding almost immediately.
For the first time, I have the first row seat, gently fighting for armrests with a tall 6’9 Lithuanian man and an old Irish business man.

Three hours later (and five beers for the Lithuanian man), I land in Dublin Airport, ending an adventure through five countries and defined by the cold temperatures and by an interesting contrast of cultures which are still present in the daily life of their citizens.

I have been invited to return in the summer, where a different picture of the Baltics can be seen.
A future adventure maybe? Somehow I believe the Baltics have to be seen in winter to better understand the cuisine and costumes, despite burned skin and loss of extremities sensitivity.

It is 10 degrees Celsius in Dublin and I return home wearing only a t-shirt and thin track bottoms.