Feature: Chum Bucket – CSC & Carve Wicked in Lithuania

Words & photography: Ridout

Aberystwyth hospitality with a Lithuanian twist
It’s funny how you can plan a trip to Sicily for a few months, only to decide at the drop of a hat to switch from living out your White Lotus fantasies to boarding a Ryanair flight bound for Lithuania. We’d originally chosen Sicily for the almost guaranteed great weather. The plan was to treat ourselves to an Airbnb with a pool, eat some cannoli and skate all those amazing-looking plazas. I wanted to go as an excuse to make possibly inappropriate Godfather references the whole time.

Right before we were about to pull the trigger on flights, Lloyd threw a curveball by suggesting Lithuania instead. Seeing as all of us had missed his wedding there a few months before, it felt like the right thing to do. He had returned briefly to the UK a few months before his wedding to get some much-needed ACL surgery (shout out the NHS), and this trip was the first time he’d skated semi-properly since. The first thing he did was a wild double tail drop into a bank with Pulley. Good to see he’s still as mad as his art on the board.

Cliched as it sounds, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect as we flew towards Vilnius. I foolishly imagined a lot of barren land and random monolithic war monuments. I guess my brain is warped from watching too many cold war spy movies. I’m not going to say there wasn’t any trepidation flying out there – “Are there even any spots out there?” was the first thing anyone asked when we mentioned our trip. Lloyd had assured us that there were, but having seen what Lloyd calls a spot (check his part in the Carve Wicked video Old Skool Nokia to see what I mean) only led to more trepidation.

Upon landing, all that trepidation stayed on the plane and flew somewhere else for a reasonable price with minimal leg room. We were greeted with the pleasant surprise of not only unseasonably warm weather, but also a welcome banquet of Gold Top lager, barbecue food and various local snacks, all laid on by Lloyd. Ready for the barbecue were buckets of pork in brine, a foodstuff that was renamed “chum” after it was pointed out that it resembled seal food. Aberystwyth hospitality with a Lithuanian twist.

And thus, we had a name for the trip: Chum Bucket. Every night we gorged on barbecued chum, with Lloyd as senior griller. Because Lithuanian booze laws restrict the sale of alcohol after 8pm, we found ourselves setting alarms to make sure we had enough time, wherever we were, to race to the nearest supermarket and stock up on chum and cans. Each night we looked forward to a visit from a tank of a cat we named Ruskle, who only appeared when the magical chum was out.  

Our obsession with the bountiful chum was only matched by everyone’s newfound obsession with fishing. The Airbnb I’d booked was next to a huge idyllic pond and an even bigger lake, and “Rod on” became the morning greeting, with Jake even setting an alarm to wake up extra early to get his rod on. Too bad for him that all his efforts were in vain, earning him the shameful nickname of fishboy.

I feel like this all getting a bit too anecdotal, and perhaps a bit boring if you weren’t there. Lithuania, however, is far from boring. Situating ourselves between the capital, Vilnius, and the country’s second-largest city, Kaunas, meant we had a plethora of spots on our doorstep. The Unity Square plaza in Kaunas is a dream spot – as if the moon were skateable, with concrete smoother than a lot of parks in the UK. Totally bust-free, too. In fact, we only got booted from one spot during our visit. People seemed to keep themselves to themselves and didn’t seem to care about skateboarding. 

Bizarrely, there’s a monument to Frank Zappa in the centre of Vilnius. My original plan for this article was to draw comparisons between Zappa playing behind the iron curtain and our trip decades later. However, it turns out that Zappa never even went to Lithuania. Lloyd’s father-in-law was part of the committee that got the monument made in 1995 by artist Konstantinas Bogdanas, who was known for his earlier statues of Vladimir Lenin and other Soviet heroes. It was meant to symbolise the end of the communist rule of old and the new western style of democracy coming in.

Hearing about the Zappa monument from Lloyd meant that he got a lot airplay in the van. I’ve always known about Zappa’s music, but I’d never really listened to him before this trip, apart from that excellent Lucas Puig part in Bon Appetit, that is. This trip proved to be the gateway drug to becoming a fan.

The Zappa statue isn’t the only piece of western pop culture in Vilnius. Overlooking the platforms at the Central Railway Station is a 15ft statue of Tony Soprano about to pick up the morning paper. No, I’m not joking. It was the first thing I heard about from everyone who had been to Lithuania for Lloyd’s wedding. I didn’t believe them. Seeing it in the flesh is pretty surreal, and reason enough for any Sopranos fan to visit.

Maybe I’m a bit too pop culture-obsessed. I’m sure there are plenty of cool galleries and other things to see, but I’m just happy I got to see a massive Tony Soprano and skate somewhere new with my mates. Big shout out to Lloyd and all the Lit legends we met along the way!

Watch Harry Deane’s accompanying video, Chum Bucket, here.