The day starts with a visit the Estonian open air museum (Eesti Vabaõhumuuseum), a park which has collected buildings from Estonia’s past, mostly huts and lodges that once dotted the countryside. I’d forgotten my wallet but Tatevik lends me a hundred crowns, but I feel unwilling to part with any of it. So when we board the bus I don’t validate my bus ticket, so I can use it later on. Of course I freak out when inspectors board the bus right near the museum, I try to run for the validating machine but an inspector is there already, so I take a nervous seat and when one comes to me I offer a ticket I had used earlier in the morning, I had stamped it incorrectly but the time reads that it was used about 40 minutes ago, I’m hoping that the tickets are valid for about an hour. In any event the inspector hands it back to me to my great relief since a big fine is the last thing I really wanted.The air is cold but its sunny, and we walk along the paths to
all the old style cottages and huts which are locked up until summer. We do find a few buildings open, one of the many “summer kitchens” has its door open, something along the lines of a wooden tipi. We walk a long way to get a bus back into town and stop off at the monument of the Liberation Soldier, a statue of a Soviet soldier commemorating those that died fighting the Nazis. The soldier is currently a source of controversy because some Estonian politicians have called for its removal as a symbol that glorifies Russia’s occupation of Estonia. The debate opens old wounds for the country which has a sizeable Russian minority of nearly 30%, whose complaints of mistreatment are keenly heard by politicians back in Moscow. For now though the soldier still stands, with an emblem of the sickle and hammer behind is head, and fresh flowers at his feet.We stroll through the centre some more and go to a small café to warm ourselves up. Tatevik and once mentioned she had a hot-chocolate with cheese there to which I made a face
somewhere between disgust and disbelief. Of course I had to order it myself and it was damn tasty, served in a tall glass with a cinnamon stick. Tatevik opts for the Chilli hot chocolate, and I order a few chocolates that come served in a silver plate. The café has that stale decadence to it, ornate furniture, cushions, drapes, cushions. Everything in there was probably once in the house of some rich person, but now its worn and old and is all cobbled together in a strange mix.We walk out to catch a bus towards an old burned out monastery or church, not far from where we saw the Tsar’s Tallin home. Unforunately it is gated for the winter, and we can only see it from the outside, the building is a stone shell windowless and roofless, a ruin, but still quite striking. Tatevik tells me that the church was burned as part of a love story. We walk to the
river where old men have their fishing lines into the sea, and we walk under the bridge to reach the opposite side of the road to catch your bus back. Its still windy and cold so we step into a shop for a moment, and I buy an Estonian drinking snack, a plastic tub of hard rye bread soaked in an oil, similar to eating crutons, they apparently go well with beer, but smell a lot.Back at home Tatevik’s symptoms start to worsen and we take her temperature and discover a low fever, the cold air had apparently take its toll. While we did have plans for going out at night we do have an early ferry to catch in the morning, and rather than exacerbate her immune system we opt to stay in for an early rise.
No comments:
Post a Comment