Lithuanian funiculars

Funiculars are strange contraptions. They are usually constructed to take people either up or down a mountainside, and since most people are capable of walking up that same mountainside themselves their fares are usually low. Since there are few high mountains in Lithuania, and citizens generally are opposed to paying for anything at all, it is quite a phenomenon that there are at least three working funiculars in the country.

 

Žaliakalnis funicular in Kaunas,
which can elevate you all the way to the Church of Resurrection

In comparison, Norway as far as I know has only one funicular.  Despite the fact that most of the country consists of hills and mountains and that people there willingly pay for unnecessary services all the time. Norwegians however love their national treasure of a funicular, and are consequently drawn to funiculars whenever they encounter them abroad.

 

A short funicular is probably a good place to practice for people who are afraid of elevators.
You are on the ground all the time, and it is obvious that you won`t die even if the cable breaks.

Coming from a country where many outdoors people only count mountains with summits over 2000 meters as real mountains, and where even running for the bus can mean elevating oneself more than 50 meters further above sea level, it seems somewhat strange that Lithuania would need funiculars at all. Perhaps it is a way of getting around the EU-regulations requiring easy access for disabled people to all public buildings, including tourist sites.

 

A birds eye view of the Žaliakalnis funicular. Taken from the roof of the Church of Resurrection, where they also charge you for using the lift. It seems that charging for elevation is quite common on this hill.

That would explain why there is a funicular going up the rather modest hill to the Gediminas Tower in Vilnius, where by the way I think I got ripped off for the first time in Lithuania. We had arrived at the foot of the hill rather late, and so we asked the clerk in the funicular whether the tower was still open. He pretended not to know, and suggested that we “go up and see”. We did so, and after exiting, we saw that the man almost immediately closed down the funicular and went home. It was his last trip of the day, and the museum had of course long since closed. I hope he later became deeply religious, and that our encounter deeply torments him to this day.