I arrived in Tallinn, Estonia after an overnight bus journey from St Petersburg on Saturday morning to find myself in the midst of preparations for the city's major summer event ... a Olde Worlde Folke Festivale. The entire Old Town has for this weekend been filled with Estonian types in middle ages dress, Scandinavian tourists and the smell of capitalist ambition. Later in the day I took the bus to the airport and met Anna Scott (friend from Adelaide with whom I'll be travelling for the next few weeks). THATS ME FOLKS!! TO ALL MY CONTACTS THATS CARL, SAY HELLO CARL!!! Welcome to the strange world of travel postcards from two people writing in relay ...

 

Tallinn is a small city with a perfectly preserved old town full of narrow, winding, cobble-stoned streets. Our hostel is located about thirty steps from the main square and shares its building with a striptease joint (on the same floor as our dorm). Indeed, the main signage on the building is for a 'Striptiis Baar' and one can't help but feel the eyes of Swedish lunch-ladies make a condescending roll of disgust whenever one walks in. But, hey, i've never let those kinds of looks stop me before ... HOWEVER KNOWING THIS MAY EXPLAIN CARL'S MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCES IN THE NIGHT, JUST JOKES, ITS ALWAYS FUNNY WHEN WE DO SEE SOMEONE HEAD UP THERE!!!

 

We spent most of Saturday sitting in the sun, with a local amber beverage, catching up on each others travels and the goss from home. This gave us ample opportunity for a spot of bitchy people-watching (as David Cross would say, 'Pull up a chair and watch the parade').

 

There seem to be two main thrusts to the Estonian sense of fashion. First, solarium tans. Second, socks and sandals. As both young and old passed us by, the gentle hum of skin still recovering from the latest fry-up session was only matched in ubiquity by the backpacker-wannabe look of socks (ankle socks, tennis socks, stockings) matched with sandals (Birks, strappy numbers, platforms). YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW FUNNY SOME OF THESE PEOPLE LOOKED KIDS, REALLY, WE WERE THERE FOR ABOUT AN HOUR AND i THINK WE ONLY TOUCHED THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG.

 

Yesterday we did a bit of wandering from place to place in the old town. Our first stop was a funky little second-hand store. With 'The Nomads' playing in the background, we browsed the racks of vintage clothing. I managed to find a great Pierre Cardin shirt for about $11 but Anna's attention was largely on the hotty behind the counter. NOT TRUE. I WAS SIMPLY ADMIRING HIS FASHION. He gave us some tips for places to hang out and also recommended a flea market which was going on next to the railway station. On our way to the market, we stopped by Hoochi Mama, a store specialising in clothes and jewellery by uber-trendy young Estonian designers which i'd had recommended to me.

 

At the flea markets there was everything from Steptoe-style junk to really crap clothes to really amazing Soviet-era gear. There was everything from pins, to passports, to photos, to cameras (like the 'Kiev'), to gas masks, to hats etc etc etc. We ended up at a store that also sold Nazi gear (couldn't quite see a clock with Hitler's face on it fitting in at home) but it was the Soviet military-issue motorcycle goggles that i ended up picking up. The guy tried to convince me to get a Soviet policeman's helmet (complete with hammer and sickle insignia) as well but i didn't think it would meet Australian safety regulations, otherwise I would have been all over it!

 

In between sipping coffee and eating roasted almonds (covered in a moorish concoction of sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and the like (ADDICTIVE)), we decided to investigate an exhibition that was advertised in the courtyard behind our hostel. There was no indication of what the exhibition entailed apart from rather oblique philosphical text and a photo of a gun. We followed a trail of bizarre photos up a dark stairwell to the attic level of a dilapidated building. The murky corridor led us past small bedsits and a communal washroom. Finally, we arrived at apartment 13 and stood outside for a moment, deciding whether to go in. Beside the door was a piece of paper with a rhetorical monologue in Estonian and Swedish.

 

'What does it mean to be raped?', 'Why does a woman who has been raped blame herself?', 'Why does the daughter of a rape victim blame herself?', 'Who can the daughter go to to complain that she feels that she herself has been raped?'.

 

We went in and found ourselves in a small room with the artist and the one-wall exhibition of photos, collages, scrawled text and documents. As the display was in Estonian, she walked us through it and explained it all for us. Her mother had been an exiled Estonian living in Sweden with her husband. She had slipped into the demimonde of the sex industry. Her rape and the repercussions of it led to depression, suicidal tendencies, and alcoholism. She died in 1986. The story was evidenced and displayed through personal letters, a journal, photos and police reports that her daughter had dug up. The exhibition was only on for this weekend.

 

After that we quickly found ourselves back in the rather more facile realm of the old town festival. Several stages were set up around the town with musicians and performers appearing on a regular basis. I'd already seen some folk dancing earlier in the day but nothing could prepare me for the display of jazz-dance that appeared before us now. Tweenage girls in fluoro green, yellow and pink two-piece outfits made of fluffy animal prints (giraffe, zebra and leopard) doing their best synchronised impersonations of Britney and JT. If you've seen the film Donnie Darko, just think of the scene featuring Duran Duran's 'Notorious' and you'll know what I'm talking about. After a quick costume change, one of the girls was back on stage for her solo. Dressed in a shimmering blue jumpsuit with flowing underarm webbing of silver tulle she performed a heart-rending interpretation of 'Abelard and Heloise' for a very appreciative audience. Personally, I was rather more taken by an older girl's display of belly-dancing (though the concept of a tall, slender blonde girl - with no belly - doing belly-dancing seemed incongruous, i was willing to let that slide). Her moves had many of the grannies in the audience giving their husbands disapproving elbows to the ribs. MEANWHILE MAY I JUST ADD HERE THAT I HAD TO LITERALLY DRAG CARL AWAY FROM THIS CHICK, WHO WAS ALL OF 15 (she did not look it, at least not from where i was standing, a long way away) BY THE WAY THOUGH YES, SHE WAS A VERY WELL FORMED MOLECULE.

 

Tomorrow night we're off for some kulcha at the city's main theatre. We'll be seeing a staging of David Mamet's 'American Buffalo'. Seeing a play by one of the world's great dialogue writers in Estonian should be quite the treat. Before that, we're hoping to get to a palace built by Peter the Great for his wife. On Wednesday we'll be off to Estonia's 'spiritual centre', the resort town of Parnu, in order to centre ourselves spirtually with a mud bath. Then, it's on to the Latvian capital of Riga.

 

MEANWHILE, IN BETWEEN OUR MAD RUSHING AROUND TALLINN DOING TOUGH THINGS LIKE TAKING PHOTOS AND DRINKING BEER AND SHOPPING, WE MANAGED TO RELAX A LITTLE ON THE ADVICE OF SECOND HAND SHOP BOY AND CHECK OUT THIS CAFE HE TOLD US ABOUT. AFTER A COUPLE OF WRONG TURNS AND THE LIKE, WE EVENTUALLY FOUND A VERY CUTE CAFE TUCKED IN THE BACK OF A DIM SIDE ALLEY. FOR THOSE IN ADELAIDE THE DECOR WAS REMINISCENT OF THE ELEPHANT WALK WHICH IS BASICALLY LOTS OF OLD FURNITURE AND NICK NACKS, GREAT MUTED COLORS AND CLASSY MUSIC. VERY NICE INDEED, AND TO TOP IT OFF THEY MADE A GREAT CUPPA.

 

A SUDDEN SHOCK FOR ME COMING FROM SOUTHERN GERMANY WAS THE CHANGE IN THE LIGHT PATTERNS. ALL OF A SUDDEN DAWN WAS AT FOUR AM AND SUNSET WAS AT MIDNIGHT AND IN BETWEEN WAS THIS GREAT NIGH ON IDIGO BLUE SKY. SO, CARL AND I DECIDED THAT WE NEEDED TO TAKE SOME PHOTOS WITH THIS SKY AND SO FOR ABOUT THREE HOURS RAN RIOT IN THE STREETS OF TALLINN TAKING SOME GREAT SNAPS AND GENERALLY BEING MENACES TO SOCIETY! WHAT A FEELING THOUGH, ALL ALONE IN SUCH A PRETTY PLACE, MAGIC LIGHT, GREAT MILD WEATHER AND BAREABLE COMPANY! JJ! SPECIAL MOMENT WAS SITTING ON THE LEDGE OF A WALL WHICH REACHED OUT A COUPLE OF METRES THREE STORIES ABOVE GROUND LOOKING OUT OVER THE WHOLE CITY.

 

We had a fantastic meal at a Russian restaurant. Started off with soup (solienka for her, wild mushroom for him) and two large shots of Russian vodka (the waitress was very convincing). As a rather annoying pair of buskers came in and flooded the small room with some rather blasting accordion and typical Russian harmonies, we were served up a clay plot filled with a compote of pelmeni (everyone's favourite Russian dumplings) and mushrooms, baked in the oven under a delicious pastry crust. Yum! Best meal i've had so far.

 

AFTER THE MEAL WE HEADED TO A PUB WHICH, AGAIN, THE SECOND HAND SHOP BOY HAD RECOMMENDED. THIS TIME THOUGH WE WERE A LITTLE LESS IMPRESSED WITH HIS INFORMATION AS WE ENTERED A WELL HIDDEN UNDERGROUND ROOM THROUGH STEPS I AM SURE COULDNT PASS AN OCC HEALTH AND SAFETY TEST. AT 11.20PM WE APPEARED TO HAVE MISSED THE RUSH AS WE SAT AT THE BAR AND ORDERED DRINKS FROM A SURLEY LOOKING GIRL WHO HAD ORANGE DREADLOCKS AND COULD HAVE DONE WITH A BITE TO EAT. FIVE CHESS GAMES LATER AND IT APPEARED WE HADN'T MISSED THE RUSH WE WERE JUST TOO EARLY. BY TWENTY PAST ONE, WHEN WE LEFT, THE PLACE ACTUALLY HAD SOME PEOPLE IN IT.

 

To add to the freak count on our travels (Anna seems to have a knack of attracting them ... i mean, just look at me)... after the flea markets we sat down in a park to have lunch. On the next bench sat a young man with a watermelon. Sure, in some parts of the world that combination is enough to cause great wailing and gnashing of teeth, but here in Estonia it passes off as an everyday occurence. No, what this man did that was so special requires careful analysis. First, there was the fashion ... sky blue tie-dye sun visor worn backwards, right ear smothered in piercings, curly peroxided hair with major regrowth (think Harpo Marx meets Fran Drescher), Hanson t-shirt (yes, as in THAT band), camo-green jeans (worn high, very, very high) and, of course, socks and sandals. Then there was the fact that he was eating the watermelon using nothing but his teeth ... and by eating the watermelon, i mean eating the entire mofo thing, skin and all. He actually looked kind of tough while he was sitting down (he could have been eating roadkill he looked that aggressive with the fruit) but as soon as he was finished he got up and PRANCED to the nearby fountain to freshen up, then pranced back to his bag, pulled his pants slightly higher, put on a huge grin, flailed his arms about a bit, pulled his pants up AGAIN (he was suffocating the Hanson brothers by this point) and pranced off on his merry way to another day of adventure and intrigue. We figured that he was either a bit simple or that the watermelons here have unnatural qualities.

 

In our wanderings we also happened upon a very cool set of workshops cum studios cum shops for local textile designers, glassblowers, milliners etc etc. You could walk from room to room seeing the stuff being made and the stuff on display ... all in a little old building right next to the old town's massive walls. Some amazing works but not quite the stuff that backpackers without their own homes tend to buy, so we just admired.

 

Should note that on our first night here we headed out with some of the other Hostellers. Couple of Yanks, Dutch guy, Aussie couple, Evelyn and yours truly x2 sampled some locally made beers at a micro brewery with tacky decor and worse music as a starter then went on to see what Tallinn offered by night. Club Hollywood was replete with bronzed and blonded beauties so we migrated to a club which seemed to specialise in grumpy waitresses, cheap cocktails and food which was served until 2am. not a bad combination, but we called it a night at a decent hour so that we wouldnt waste the next day... However, felt strange walking home in the light (3am is just before dawn remember!) sober and thinking we were being responsible!!!!

 

Carl and Anna