Warsaw’s Old Town is one of Europe’s most extraordinary symbols of resilience, and walking through it before your departure toward Lithuania gives a powerful sense of the city’s past. The district began as a medieval settlement in the 13th century, growing around the fortifications of the Mazovian dukes. Over the centuries it developed into a thriving center of trade and political life, eventually becoming the heart of the capital when Warsaw rose to national prominence in 1596. Narrow streets, merchants’ houses, the Market Square, and the imposing Royal Castle all reflected the prosperity of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth.
That history nearly vanished in 1944 during the Warsaw Uprising, when retreating Nazi forces deliberately destroyed almost ninety percent of the Old Town. What you see today is a remarkable reconstruction completed between 1945 and 1953, guided by archival plans, archaeological work, and the detailed cityscapes painted by Bernardo Bellotto. Because of how faithfully it was restored, UNESCO declared it a World Heritage Site, noting it as one of the most impressive reconstruction efforts ever undertaken. Wandering the streets, it is hard to believe that almost everything around you once lay in rubble.
From there, your journey carried you northeast toward Lithuania through the Suwałki Gap—the strategic land corridor connecting Poland to the Baltic States. Framed on one side by Russia’s Kaliningrad exclave and on the other by Belarus, this narrow strip of land is considered one of NATO’s most important geographic chokepoints. The drive takes you past Białystok and through the quiet forests and lake regions of Podlaskie before crossing into Lithuania, where the landscape gradually opens into fields and rural villages on the way toward Kaunas. Traveling this route places you directly on one of Europe’s most significant and most discussed geopolitical corridors, even though on the ground it appears peaceful and pastoral.
The highway east carried us through rolling countryside and misty pine forests—a drive that felt long but peaceful. Somewhere near the border, the road signs shifted from Polish to Lithuanian, and just like that, we were in another country and another time zone.
Crossing into Lithuania felt like stepping into a quieter rhythm. This marked a special milestone: European Country #28 for our family.Our one planned detour was at Trakai Castle, rising from an island in the middle of Lake Galvė. Even from the causeway, its red brick towers looked straight out of a fairy tale. Once home to the Grand Dukes of Lithuania, Trakai has witnessed centuries of shifting borders, alliances, and empires. During World War II, the surrounding region became part of the complex military logistics routes that supplied both Axis and Soviet forces—remnants of bunkers and forgotten posts still dot the landscape. Today, though, the area is serene—families strolling, swans gliding across still waters, and the crisp Baltic air carrying the scent of pine and history.
By late afternoon, we reached Kaunas, Lithuania’s second-largest city and its interwar capital. The streets were alive with early Christmas lights and the smell of roasted almonds from the market square. Kaunas has an understated charm—less polished than Vilnius, but deeply proud of its culture and modern resurgence.
After checking into our hotel, we took Marley for a walk along the Nemunas River, the city lights reflecting softly in the water. There’s a quiet resilience here too—Kaunas was once a major U.S. Army Air Corps supply point during World War II, part of the path between East and West. Standing by the river, it’s easy to imagine the layered stories that have flowed through this region.
Tomorrow, we’ll head toward the coast, tracing the Baltic’s winter horizon.
Moving to Lithuania
