Visitors to the so-called Baltic Riviera will be impressed by the region’s long, white, sandy beaches and pine forest where hundreds of elaborately decorated old wooden houses nestle between the trees.
In the past, this peninsula, located between the Baltic Sea and the River Lielupe, was called Riga Beach. Today, Jurmala is one of the most exclusive resorts anywhere on the Baltic coast.
That has not been lost on Russia’s wealthy classes who have made Jurmala a place to relax and invest their money.
That influx of cash is reflected in house prices where a single square metre of space can cost as much as $7 500.
Villas have been built in Jurmala to a standard of luxury that few people in Western Europe could afford and off-road vehicles as well as black limousines with tinted windows are a familiar sight on the roads.
It is not always clear from where this wealth has come. Most number plates are Latvian because, although it can hardly be overlooked, no one wants to reveal their Russian origins.
Even the local administration is keeping tight-lipped about the Russian money flowing into Jurmala. ”We don’t have any information about that,” says a spokesperson.
The 40km-peninsula once belonged to a Baltic German baron called Von Fricks who had a manor house and farm there.
At the end of the 19th century, a railway line was built to connect the main town of Majori to Riga, 25km distant, and the first tourists began to arrive.
Shortly afterwards, Von Fricks began to divide his land up and sell it. The romantic wooden dachas typical of Jurmala were then constructed.
The houses have decorated gables and verandas with stained-glass windows. In Tsarist times, Jurmala was a favourite destination for Muscovites and people from St Petersburg.
The area known as Edinburga, named after one of the Tsar’s daughters who married the Duke of Edinburgh, developed into a popular place for artists and the intelligentsia.
The people of Jurmala take great care with the peninsula’s historic buildings and environment. No tree may be cut down and no house demolished.
But years of neglect during the Soviet era led to disrepair and many houses have been taken apart and lavishly reconstructed according to the original plans. Jurmala now has 4 000 historic wooden buildings.
Only a few examples of Soviet concrete architecture survive to spoil the view. When something is torn down, a well-designed modern villa or hotel takes its place. Building regulations forbid any structure higher than the crown of a tree.
Thanks to Jurmala’s energetic mayor, Inese Aizstrauta, who is herself an architect, none of the newcomers have been allowed to build anything contrary to the local architecture style.
At present, a wellness centre is being constructed, designed by the same team of architects who built the new concert hall in Riga.
In Jurmala, old and new are coming together in a successful mix.
Water quality at the beach is good and Jurmala has had a European Union blue flag since 2001. The city had over 100 000 guests last year.
Business is booming in nearby Riga, especially in the real-estate market where the fastest money is to be made. But the economic boom has also attracted black money and corruption is a problem in Latvia.
According to Transparency International, an organisation that monitors corruption, Latvia ranks behind Costa Rica and El Salvador and occupies the 51st place on its index.
Much of that black money is invested in Jurmala, which has developed into an oasis of wealth in what is still a relatively poor country.
That divide becomes most obvious on a trip to western Latvia and to the town of Kuldiga, which consists largely of derelict, wooden houses. Almost none of them have been restored and there are no signs of luxury villas or the jet set from Russia. — Sapa-dpa