When I travel, I’m a big playlist guy. Nothing highly curated, just six to seven albums that I put in a Spotify playlist and download to my phone. I make one for each city I visit, and when I move on, I pare down the selection to the albums that found their way into my regular rotation. I keep these playlists so later, when I miss these places I may never see again, I can at least revisit their soundtracks. For Vilnius, Lithuania, St. Vincent’s “Marry Me” rang through my ears as I meandered through the Baltic city’s cobblestone streets.
Vilnius was city five during a month-long trip I took in September. I spent most of that month with headphones in my ears, listening to the music I’d chosen, hoping to lay the foundation of some Pavlovian, nostalgic future listening. But by the end of my trip, I missed the sound of atmospheric bar chatter.
The streets of Vilnius twist and turn, revealing unexpected treasures. That night I rounded a corner and discovered a small neighborhood bar spilling out onto the street, allowing the patrons to meet up with friends without worrying about strict masking guidelines. After ordering at the bar, I waited for my olives, dried sausage, and beer.
With my table for one nestled in the middle of a dozen or so other tables, I took out my headphones and relaxed in the rhythms of the conversations that surrounded me. Everyone spoke Lithuanian—I do not. It didn’t matter; it was still the music I wanted to hear.
