Tallinn, Estonia
May 31, 2011 

I love Estonia. I knew Iwould.  Especially compared to Russia, which is struggling mightily to extricate itself from the deadly nihilistic momentum and decay of the Soviet years.  Smaller states, like smaller ships, can turn around much faster.  And all three of the Baltic states have nice, peppy economies with lots of money coming in from high tech and tourism.

During my long (but comfortable!) bus ride, for the entire Russian portion the roads were appalling, bumpy, patched, full of holes, bad intersections, etc.  The first mile into Estonia it was clear we were in a different world.  Not only were the signs in letters I could read, but the highways were smooth as glass.

I was a little rattled when I arrived at the venerable St. Olav Hotel at midnight. I guess I need to read hotel reviews more carefully.  The St. Olav is charming, all right, but it’s a historical building.  Old.  Rickety.  No elevators.  I had to schlepp my 562 bags up rickety, leaning staircases to my room on the fourth floor.  Actually I had to do it twice, because the first time Iwent to the wrong fourth floor.  Yeah, like that.  And the room, while large, is pretty spartan:  no closet and no air conditioning. 

Plus it’s right in the middle of Old Town, which sounds great until you realize that this means that you’re on a street that’s never quiet.  There’s a bar next door.  Yay.

Still, I managed to laugh about all of it and had a good night’s sleep.

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This morning I had a lovely breakfast in the capacious and charming breakfast room and then headed out to do some pre-exploring before Milana arrived in the afternoon.

I first walked out to the harbor to get my very first glimpse ever of the Baltic Sea. 

Between the harbor and the beginning of Old Town is a very moving and beautiful memorial to the 852 commuters who died when the Estline Baltic ferry mysteriously sank on September 28, 1994.  The memorial is a simple but dramatic broken line or arch.

I sat down on a bench to soak it in, and couldn’t help noticing an older man sitting two benches away. He was clearly mourning.  I wondered who he had lost.  A wife?  A child?

The awful thing about this event is that Estonia only has 1.5 million people, so virtually everyone had a connection with someone who died on the ferry.  It hit the country very hard.

I sat down in front of it and thought about what an awful day that must have been when a routine Baltic ferry suddenly and swiftly sank.  I noticed an older man sitting two benches away from me, quietly gripping onto prayer beads.  He was clearly thereto mourn.  As he left I had a tentative conversation with him, and he had enough English to make it clear that yes, he did lose someone on the ferry.  But who?  Wife?  Child?  So sad.

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So here’s the difference between Russia and Estonia:  In Russia, police beat the shit out of homosexuals who dare attend a peaceful Pride demonstration.  In Estonia, the tourist map they hand out for free at the hotel has a big ad for the local gay spa, complete with photo of a glistening naked torso.  I love the Baltics.

I also love that, despite all the beautiful churches (lots of flavors:  Baptist, Lutheran, Orthodox, Catholic), the Estonians are the least religious of all the populations in the EU.  Go go secularism!!

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I’m enjoying hearing the sounds of Old Town as write this.  There’s a street violinist who just performed a jazzy rendition of “New York, New York” before moving on to some more classical charts.  Ooh, now he’s on to “Lady Madonna.”  Think I’m love.

My Personal Favorite Memorials

• The Oklahoma City bombing memorial, Oklahoma City[1]
• The Broken Line, Tallinn
• The Vietnam Memorial, Washington

 

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[1] It’s rather extraordinary and worth a trip to Okahoma to see.