Chanel Haute Couture advertisment

2 entries categorized "Riga"

December 15, 2005



Believe it or not, I have dial-up internet access in my room - I only found out today.

I slept early last night because I wasn't feeling well. Actually, I felt shit since Tuesday, I think. Last night was the worst though; I was literally shivering because of the cold and my bed was drenched with sweat.

I'm feeling much better now. I had 4 paracetamol tablets since last night.

I just got back from a quick walk around OLD TOWN (the area where I'm staying) and boy, all I can say is that Riga *IS* beautiful.

I love the architechture, the colors and the details.




It's a shame I'm leaving tomorrow

It's also a shame I'm alone here - I don't have pictures of myself in Riga.

That's alright though... I'm sure there's gonna be a next time.

Usually, however, "next time" is synonymous to "probably never again".

Only time can tell whether or not there will be a next time.

I love Riga.



It's just that I wish there was someone with me right now.


It's 3:48PM here. I need to sleep at around 7PM so I'll wake up no later than 3AM because I have to be at the airport by 5AM. I also need to pack my shit, as always.

I'll arrive in Paris first thing tomorrow morning with a quick stop in Oslo, Norway.

I can't wait. The anxiety and the suspense is literally killing me.

I love you all, as always.


Roarin Riga

Roarin Riga

I got up at 4:30AM earlier this morning, packed my bags and arrived at the airport just in time.

I guess it's goodbye to all things Scandinavian. Goodbye Sweden. Goodbye Copenhage. Goodbye Scandinavia.


Hello Eastern Europe. Hello Baltics!

As someone who is addicted to travelling, I'm no stranger when it comes to hotels and resorts.

From the Sanderson Hotel in London (where I booked a massive penthouse to celebrate my 19th birthday party) to the Sheraton Laguna Nusa Dua in Bali (where I spent New Year's Eve with my Indonesian friends and had an enormous 2-floored suite and my own private pool), I know how to detect good and bad service.

I'm currently here in Riga, Latvia staying at the Ainavas Boutique Hotel.


I got out of the cab, left my luggage outside the hotel entrance (AKA the sidewalk) and went straight to reception.

I told the girl I want to check-in and I need help with my luggage.

She then gave me this smug look on her face and asked me for my last name.


I wanted to slap the fat blonde receptiobitch, pull her hair, drag her to the ground and spit on her face only a rapist can.

I have 5 huge bags with me. She didn't acknowledged my request for help with my luggage. There was no doorman/bellhop/nothing.

After 2 or so minutes, I decided to take matters into my own hands and went out of the hotel to carry my bags one by one.

THANK GOD I tipped the taxi driver about 8 Euros - no wonder he watched out for my bags.

He carried all my bags to the lobby and it's only at that time when the hotel boys arrived.

Fucking slow bitches.

The misery doesn't even end there.

Once I settled into my room, I called the female receptiobitch and asked whether or not they have internet access.

She said yes, they do have internet access and I need some codes if I have my own laptop.

I told her, ok, will you please send someone to my room so I'll have those codes?

She said yes.

5 minutes.

10 minutes.

15 minutes.

Why are they taking so long?

I read the hotel's room service menu and decided to call the restaurant so I can place my order.

Nobody picked up the fucking phone after calling them several times. I figured they might be busy so I'll call them later.

20 minutes. Still no person to help me with my internet problem.

25 minutes.

30 minutes.

I said that's it. I'm going downstairs and get those codes and borrow a LAN cable.

So I did.

Receptiobitch gave me the codes and the LAN cable.

I went upstairs back to my room and to my dismay, I still have no internet access.

I called reception and a guy answered. He said one of his colleagues will go up to my room in 30 minutes. Since he was there, I complained how nobody at room service is picking up their phone. He said he'll get the chef to call me.

The chef called after a couple of minutes and it was only at that time that I got to place my order.

UGH! My blood is boiling.

No wonder my European friends asked me "WHY RIGA?" or "WHY LATVIA?" or "IT'S EASTERN EUROPE!". A Swedish acquaintance even said "that's the 4th world".



In fairness to them, their rooms are quite clean and cozy to be honest. They're not the best but they remind of some hotel rooms in the Philippines.

I also like my courtyard view...


not sure about the view above it though...


It was the chef himself who delivered the food to my room. It was scrumptious.


I've been here for about 3 hours and the only thing that has been good so far is the immigrations officer who stamped my passport.

Boy he was hot.

So yes boys and girls, I don't have internet access in my room.

I'm completely disconnected from the rest of the world.

Thank god there's an internet cafe (wi-fi) about 50 meters from the hotel.

I'll sleep early tonight, wake up early tomorrow, roam around, take pictures and fly my ass to Paris. I'm really looking forward to it.

For some strange reason, I'm feeling quite depressed.

I have no idea why.

It's like, I have this lump on my throat or something.

Hopefully Paris will lift my mood up.

I love you all and I miss you all.


Support My Sponsors

Peek Into My World

Brought to You By

Tweet Tweet

Connect With Me

  • Depending on my availability, click the button below to speak to me on the phone for free! USA callers only please.

    MSN MessengerSkypeYahoo! Messenger FacebookLiveJournalMySpaceTechnoratiLast.fmYouTubeTwitter

What They Are Saying

  • Bryanboy Press



Dangerous Liaisons

  • Love is an addictive drug

    Shower me with attention and inflate my ego. Email photos of your love and I'll add you to my ever-growing collection. Be creative! Be spontaneous! Send them to today!


  • Vogue featuring Fashion Bloggers

    Click HERE to watch behind-the-scenes footage of the shoot.