The Unhatched Plans of Chickens
Sunday August 3rd, 2008
Tallinn, Estonia
Scandinavia 2008 - Day 3
Breakfast was included in the cost of the hostel so after waking up from what amounted to a several hour nap, I gave it a go. The hard-boiled eggs were all runny and half cooked, at first I thought it was a mistake, but after 3 or 4 were that way I realized that is how they must like them. Not up for half cooked eggs I tried the scrambled version with porridge and meatballs. Can’t say I have ever eaten porridge before; or meatballs for breakfast for that matter. But who cares, it was food and the coffee was hot and strong.
At the main train station I bought train reservations for my entire trip, then walked to the Kiasma Museum of Modern Art, a new museum by the Architect Steven Holl. I would say the building looks like a metallic Twinkie that had been twisted and torn in a fight between to fat, grabby, grubby, hands. But that’s just me; me also liked the entryway with its curved white ramp, and its curved white concrete walls, all illuminated from above by daylight through sandblasted glass. Most of the art works were as weird as expected, but I enjoyed most the big metal panel sliding doors between galleries.
From the gallery I took a short tram to what I thought was my ferry terminal, only to find myself on the wrong side of the harbor with only a few minutes until my boat leaves. I began jogging with my bag on my back; I ran about a half mile till I came to a hotel that had a taxi out front. The taxi got me to the correct terminal just in time for me to buy a ticket and catch the boat. Unfortunately I hadn’t reserved my boat ticket, and I had discovered that the cheap seats for my journey from Tallinn to the Aland Islands were sold out, and that I would have to buy a 200 Euro cabin. Luckily I remembered that my Eurorail pass entitled me to a 50% discount, so that knocked the price way down, but it still was a very expensive purchase. So began the first of many expensive purchases, oyez vey! The boat to Tallinn is only about 2 hours, but I hadn’t eaten lunch and I wasn’t going to leave my bag unattended to go look for food, so I just sat back and enjoyed the view from the front of the ship. My stomach rumbled away, but I knew that a hearty breakfast of porridge, meatballs, and watermelon would have to last until dinner at Olde Hansa Restaurant.
5 hours later:
Here I sit in Olde Hansa restaurant. My belly full of wild boar and elk steak. The ride over to Tallinn was nice; when I started to feel sea-sick I just took a nap. I really enjoyed the art museum in Helsinki this morning, but now it feels like I am a world away sitting here in this candle lit restaurant in a town that is a postcard from 400 years ago.
The waitress, in all her heavy layers of wool, is very cute with her quick smile and blonde hair flowing out from underneath her green wool cap. She has several times been successful at selling me various beers, ales, schnapps, and deserts. Beer should always be served in clay jugs (The beer mugs are thick, rough, brown clay with speckled brown glazing at the lip and inside the mug. It feels great in the hand and on the lip). The sun is setting outside and the gray dreary day is turning into black wet night. I like that the white plaster walls of the restaurant are lit by dim candles. There are light green and brown scroll work leaves and flora painted sparingly about the room, supplementing the banners of the ancient Hanseatic League towns, including some of my favorites: Kiel, Bremen, and Hamburg. I think I shall give my kids middle names of the towns I love, “Amstrong Bremen Stauth” doesn’t sound bad at all. The tables and chairs are heavy-duty wood; the people at the table next to mine were able to store their raincoats inside the hinged bench that they are sitting upon. The smell of herbs, berries, wool and leather abound. I have been dining for about 2 hours, and the room has been spinning for at least half that time; but desert is on its way out the kitchen (with another beer and berry schnapps), so I have a few more minutes of flirting with the waitress still.
About 12:30am
It’s now approximately 12:30am and I am bellied up to the “No Name Bar” watching Estonian girls dance to “Holla-Back Girl.” After dinner I had a few drunken words about Italy with my Italian roommate, Omar, before I stumbled out into the rainy night with a camera and some Tom Waits playing over my headphones. Down the stairs and at the front door of the hostel I encountered some drunken Estonians headed up the stairs to the strip club on the 3rd floor. One of the guys was dressed in a chicken suit, and he had a basket of eggs that he was selling for buyer “quoteth the price.” I shouted drunken words in exchange with the Chicken’s drunken friends, apparently it was some sort of Estonian bachelor thing, but I did manage to swipe some Russian money from the Chickens egg basket. From there I turned two lefts and passed the queens hanging out in front of “Angel Bar”, and was taking some pictures of an interesting turquoise and white blue building when I realized it was a brothel; the women were forlorn looking, their thin white faces peering out from their long black hair. They waved as I walked on. Through the window I spied the red end of a cigarette from the bouncer that sat in the dark corner watching quietly as the girls waved from the red light-lit window.
I pulled up my jacket hood as it rained softly, hugging close to tall building walls while taking pictures or just feeling the space of the place. When it began to rain hard I huddled beneath the pointed gothic arch of a small church and watched as acros’t the courtyard dinners sipped wine in a dim room full of empty tables. I slipped my hand in my pocket and pulled out my flask of scotch and sipped with them.
When the rain let up some I continued my walk; I eventually found my way outside of the city walls, where I turned and went back in. nearing the Cathedral I passed by an open doorway. In the dead of night there was no one to have been encountered on my walk, so this bit of warmth surprised me in the chilly night. Several girls sat on stools, smoking and chatting. They didn’t see me. The red rope light in the small square windows informed me that liquor was not the only thing for sell here. The “bar” doors were meticulously built; diagonal boards painted green with shiny brass headed nails but without noticeable ornamentation. The doors were set in a red doorframe. The street was clean and quite, I could hear only the unintelligible chat from the girls on the stools and the drip, drip, drip of rain.
My walk continued past the church and started uphill. I could tell I was near the upper part of town; but I turned when I came to a steep road and instead walked down to the main town square. There I encountered some nightlife, but things were thinning out and slowing down. Walking full circle I walked into the bar across from the hostel, which is were I sit now writing.
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