I'm very aware of the fact that I've neglected this for a good few weeks now, and in terms of where I'm currently traveling, I'm an age behind with the writing (this is being typed sitting at a hostel computer in Berlin... a good 3 weeks and 2 countries away from Lithuania), but I have been genuinely busy over the last while, and the longer I left it, the less appealing it became to write. But, I had an urge to write something tonight, so here it goes...
My first night in Riga was somewhat of a non-event. I arrived in time to watch the Arsenal vs Man United match and accidentally got very drunk on the strong local beer, making some vacuous clubbing friendships for that night with a couple of lads from London. However, I met a very interesting (if slightly odd) man from Bristol whilst watching the match who had moved to Riga, leaving his wife and family because God had spoken to him and told him he had to go and fix Latvia's problems. I quizzed him on his one man crusade, which he assured me was going very well up to that point. The conversation was different to the ones you mostly have when first meeting people because we were both so blunt with eachother, without being offensive, and it encouraged me to try and carry that on more rather than just going through the motions when you meet people and telling them what they want to hear. It's always good to be challenged on what you're doing and why you're doing it because it makes you re-evaluate your choices and get a clearer picture of where you're headed.
Riga itself is a strange city, a UNESCO preserved World Heritage Old Town which is punctured with ugly, newly built, glassfronted shops and bars. As far as Old Towns go, I wouldn't rank it up there with Krakow or Tallinn, but it does have a certain charm. It's most enchanting to wander it's streets at night, wrapped up warm carrying a 20p cup of tar-like coffee because the new buildings dissappear into the darkness whilst the Old Town buildings are lit-up, so it's much easier to forget you're in the middle of a quickly advancing capital. Because of this, I approached Riga in a different manner than I did in Estonia, and focused more on meeting people and trying to gauge opinions on the Nazi/Soviet comparisons I raised in the last blog. Those who I met from Western cultures tended to agree with me, and we threw about ideas about why it is the way it is, why Communism isn't as vilified as Fascim is in our part of the world, and the general concensus was that it was mainly because we were so far removed from it, that it didn't effect us at all, therefore it was easier to ignore. However, I did meet a few native people who still spoke up for Stalin, and still considered him to be more hero than villain because he did so much for the economy of their countries. Any attempt to show them that he was in fact a complete bastard were dismissed out of hand, and it just showed me how differently you view things dependent on how it effects you directly. I did manage to pick up a local magazine though in which there was an article about a forthcoming movie, "The Soviet Story" by Edvins Snore, which addresses this issue, and which has been funded partly by the EU... So maybe the tide is turning in an attempt to raise awareness of the oppressive regime which Stalin ran, and the damage it did. My views on the whole thing were strengthened by a trip to the Latvian Occupation museum, and how the story of that country paralleled that of Estonia so closely. The closing, bare statistics give you a sense of the museum's subject matter: "During the periods of Soviet and German occupation, Latvia lost more 550,000 people, more than one third of it's population. This is the number who were murdered, killed in fighting or fled"... "We were killed simply for being ourselves".
Much like the other Baltic states, Latvia is a haven for those who love the outdoors. I day trip to Jurmalsa national park saw me landed on a beach about 6 miles long, all by myself, and it's not often you can walk through a thick pine forest and still hear the waves lapping at the shore just a few yards away. It truly is a breathtaking part of the world, and one which I'd recommend immediately to anyon who just wanted to get away from life for a while and disappear with yourself (or with a few chosen friends). The same can be said for Sigulda (which is an hour away from Riga on the train and is called "the Switzerland of Latvia" dues to it's many mountains and valleys), although it attracts more tourists than Jurmala. But, traveling at this time of year benefits in that respect as there's not many other tourist about, if any... so I was free to hike wherever I wanted, castle spotting and wandering of the marked trails at will. It took two trips out there (one alone, and one with Pesh and Scouse when they came out for my birthday) to really appreciate it, but the time was defintely well spent doing so.
So aye, I turned 25 in Riga and a few of the lads (namely Scouse, Pesh, Veggie and Bangers) came out from Scotland to celebrate it with me. The days they were over were lost to a haze of Riga Back Balsam (the single most disgusting drink you can ever try) and football, but I had a cracking few days, and after travelling alone it was great to see some familar faces and not have to have the initial getting-to-know-you conversation over and over. The most interesting part, for me, was a trip out towards a part of Riga called Andrejsala, which we were assured was a buzzing bohemian neighbourhood, full of artists and cafes which we'd like a lot. Well, when we got there, we instead found a complex of run-down and abandoned buildings, graffitied within an inch of their lives and gutted by fire. But as I've mentioned elsewhere, abandoned building fascinate me, so the afternoon stands out for me as my favourite part of my time in Latvia, not least because I managed to pick up a couple of really cool (free) souvenirs from going inside said buildings.
Pesh had accidentally (or so he maintains) booked himself an extra week away, so we had to decide what to do. He was dying to visit Estonia, and since I'd loved it so much I wasn't adversed to heading back there again. We made plans to head to Tallinn for one night then to go hiking and camping in Lahemaa the following two days, and headed of the following afternoon, still reeling from hangovers. Once at the hostel, one of the staff took a shine to us and wanted to know what we were planning for the next couple of days - as soon as we mentioned going camping we were labelled as "insane" and "likely to freeze to death", especially because Pesh had no sleeping bag and we had no tent. Thankfully, the girl (who's name I can't for the life of me remember) managed to arrange the loan of a tent and a sleeping bag for us in an attempt to stave of death for as long as possible... the only condition was we had to head out to the ghetto to pick it up. After all Anton had told me during my previous time in Tallinn I was a little bit unsure of this, but we were assured it'd be fine, and thankfully it was. In fact, it was better than fine, it was brilliant - one of those nights you get when you're away completely through luck and entirely by accident. We sat with the girl and her friends, drinking tea and listening to Estonian music, whilst they ridiculed us both (in the nicest way possible). Things like that are what makes traveling what it is for me - personally I think too much emphasis is placed on how many imaginary lines you cross over, when it's really the people you meet that shape your experience, not the country you're in. Heading back, we were newly enthused for our adventure the next day because we were now completely ready to cope with anything that nature threw at us. Well, in theory...
In much the same way as I got out to Lahemaa, we caught the bus which dropped us off at Viitna. To save time we decided to hitchhike up to Palmse and were picked up by an amiable man who was more than happy to tell us tales of working in the oil fields in Siberia. He dropped us off, and our adventure was ready to start proper. For the next 5 hours, we hiked through the fantastic forests of Lahemaa, kind of knowing where we were headed, but also not really at the same time, but that didn't concern us, it was just great to be out there. In a round-a-bout way we got to our targeted campsite in Vosu and got the tent up before dark without any hitches at all before heading down to the nearby beach to take a rake of photos. I should point out here that the temperature during the day never got above 0 degrees, but because we were always on the move and carrying our stuff we didn't notice it, once you stop though you start to realise just how cold it is. The darkness came in really quickly and by 4.30 it was impossible to see eachother even though we were standing within four feet of one another. And yes, we had no torch. Not to be defeated though, we got a fire going and cooked our food whilst trying to keep warm in the ever dropping temperature... but by 6.30 it was out of the question to stay outside, so we retreated to the tent. At this point we realised that we'd gotten ourselves in some situation: minus temperatures, pitch black with no torch, and a good 14 hours to wait until sunrise. It was actually so cold by now that we both had on almost every piece of clothing we had (which for me was 2 thermal tops, 2 t-shirts, a hoody, long johns, jeans and two pairs of thermal socks) and were in our sleeping bags... and we were still freezing. The prospect of a further, inevitable, temperature drop was looming, and we still had 13 hours to kill before the sun came up... hmmm. In all fairness to us, we stuck it out as long as we could, but there were too many obstacles in the way of any enjoyment and personally I didn't want to freeze out of sheer stubborness. We decided that if we were going to go and ask at a nearby house for directions to a hostel, then it was now or never, because we couldn't justify waking up the whole house at 2am when our blood had frozen in our veins.
So, a little bit regrettably, we wandered over and knocked at the house nearby. The whole of the following just outlined to me just how good people can be when you're in need, there were no questions asked, just help given and solutions provided, despite the obvious language barrier. In fact, that made it all the more apparent to me just how good the people who lived there were, because they rang their daughter in Tartu (a good 5 hours away) to translate between us... One telling line in the translation was that we found out the Mother had seen us putting up our tent, looked at us and though we were completely mental. So, before we knew it, we had the tent down, it was packed into the back of a van, and we were getting a lift to the nearby hostel. Problem solved. Almost.
The hostel was shut for the winter.
Right... so now we had another problem, but this just elicited more help from the Man who'd driven us this far. He rang round his friends, found out who owned another hostel and had the fella come down and open it up, just for us and just for one night. I've been the beneficiary of help from strangers so many times over the last few months, and when you're stuck, someone going the extra yard to help you really stands out - but this time, we had far more help than we could have imagined... re-instills a bit of faith in humanity for sure. So now, we'd gone from freezing cold to being in our very own hostel - couldn't have turned out better. We were still massaging our bruised egos the next morning, but only until we looked out the window and saw that there'd been 2 feet of snow, which would have seen us buried in the tent! We also later found out that the temperature had dropped to a chilly -10 degrees during the night, so by that point we felt entirely justified in our decision.
That morning we spent down on the same beach we'd been on the previous say, except this time the sand had been entirely replaced by snow, giving the place a really magical feel. It was a first for me to see snow so close to the sea and we took numerous photos which I'll hopefully throw up on here when I get the chance, or on flickr so you can see it. There's something about snow which makes you instantly regress to the ages of 5 and we took the time to make snowmen and I laughed a whole lead as Pesh fell over and made a complete fool of himself. All in all it was a cracking adventure, and again was an experience that you don't get by sticking with tours... OK, so it had been decidedly dodgy at certain points, but I wouldn't swap it for anything else now I can safely look back on it. Rather than put me off taking risks, it's made me more likely to do it again (sorry mam!) because it's what really builds memories.
I'll tell you about Lithuania tomorrow night...
Sunday 30 November 2008
Wednesday 5 November 2008
Estonia: Tallinn, Saaremaa, Tallinn (again), Tartu
I arrived into Tallinn at about 6.30am and was an absolute wreck. The Saturday's drinking and lack of sleep combined with no sleep at all on the Sunday night bus journey left me in a zombie-like state where everything just seemed unreal. Of course, being in a new country only intensified that feeling and I had to quickly figure out money, transport and accommodation all in a language which I realised I knew not even one word of. I'd spent so long gearing myself up for my month in Russia that I'd completely neglected anything post there and was now realising that that wasn't the smartest of preparation. However, I somehow managed to make my way to the hostel (despite the directions in the Lonely Planet guide being as useful as an inflatable dart-board) and dropped my bag off. The desk attendant wasn't too pleased at my early arrival (it was about 7.15am by the time I got there), but I couldn't have cared less at that point, I just wanted my pack off my shoulders and she'd just have to deal with that as far as I was concerned. I'm sure that the majority of you know how amiable I am when I'm tired, most probably have first hand experience, so you can imagine what my mood was like.
Leaving the hostel, map in hand, I walked over towards the Old Town part of Tallinn to kill the few hours before I could actually check in properly... But that few hours soon turned into half the day as Tallinn's winding, cobbled streets and medieval architecture soon made me completely forget any tiredness I'd previously been wallowing in. In fact, I positively bound up the hundred or so steps to the viewing point to look out over the city towards the docks, which at that time in the morning belonged entirely to me. As in St Petersburg, it was nice to know that I'd be in Tallinn for a good few days (albeit with a break in the middle) so again I felt relaxed about how to spend my time. There was no need to force myself through museums or art galleries, there was no real need to think about anything at all in fact, which was just as well because mentally, I was completely redundant for that first day.
On my second day I woke up feeling entirely refreshed and decided that rather than explore the city, I'd take myself off to one of the many national parks which are dotted around the whole of Estonia. It seemed easy enough in theory: one bus and then a 10km or so hike (or the option of hitch-hiking) towards where the park information centre was, and this time it actually worked out exactly as it was meant to! I caught the bus to a town called Viitna, which is out east from Tallinn, and then hiked my way through some fields and some forests to Palmse and the entrance to Lahemaa national park. The main reason to get to the centre was to get hold of a trail map to optimise the time I had before it got dark, because it gets dark very early in Estonia, I mean can't-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face dark at about 5pm, so rather than just roaming the paths and wasting my time in a way, I wanted to make the most of the trip there. Once inside, I very friendly and helpful lady not only showed me the best trails but also put on a DVD for me to let me into some of the background information on Lahemaa.
I should tell you at this point that Estonia is a professional hippy's dream. Acres of untouched forests, protected shores and marine areas, boglands and wetlands... you name it and this country has it. As a conservationist it was like being in heaven. What's more, the combination of these numerous areas and such a small national population means that you more often than not find yourself entirely alone in these habitats. Like I say, for me it was absolutely perfect, but I think that even without the pre-disposition to this type of activity you'd have to be a cold human being to not get a lot out of the experience. I picked my way through the woodland - past beaver dams, through collections of huge glacial boulders (most of which were bigger than houses), over rickety bridges, under the sounds of woodpeckers working away at the bark of the trees, all without meeting one other person. Having been in cities or suburban areas since leaving Baikal it was amazing to not hear traffic, to not feel the need to rush anywhere, to actually smell the pines needles, to see nothing man-made for miles around. I think areas like this are so important for people to make the most of... We have them back home, but very rarely do people take time out to actually visit. For me, there's a tangible relief to be felt when you take advantage of them.
That night I headed back to the hostel and since there was a party going on I joined in, drinking copious amounts of "scotch" with some American frat boys and then Brown Ale in a pub somewhere in Tallinn, I have no idea where though. Again, this wasn't one of my better ideas as I was booked on a four hour bus journey the next day to head out to the island of Saaremaa, and when it came time to catch that bus I felt like I'd rather die there and then on the cold platform than face the trip. Reading this back, it seems like I've been drinking a lot over the time I've been away, but I can genuinely say I haven't. It's just that the times I have done it have been to such lengths that it affects me for days. I promise. Well anyway, the major plan for going to Saaremaa was to really get away from city/town life, and for a few days, just to be on my own finding out what Estonia is really like. The bus journey was nowhere near as bad as I'd expected and by the time I'd arrived in Kurresaare I was feeling a lot better and ready to start exploring the next day.
The next morning I contemplated hiring a bike to take myself around the island on (anyone who has seen me use a bike recently knows has probably almost fell off their seat laughing) but decided that on my first day I'd see how far I could get on foot, and plus there was a lot of good things to check out in and around Kurresaare itself first. I walked down to the harbour where the majestic Bishop's Castle sits on the shore and has now been turned into a museum of the history of Saaremaa. Since the museum didn't open until 11am, I took in the amazing views from the harbour and walked along the beaches as the rain fell. Even the terrible weather that I experienced whilst there couldn't put a detract from how gorgeous a corner of the world I was in.
As far as museums go, the one in castle was very good. If you're like me then you probably have little idea of the history of Estonia (or the Baltics generally, apart from the fact they're used to describe how cold you are and that it was a war zone not so long ago), so the exhibits were a complete shock to me and really opened my eyes to the immense suffering that this are has been through, at the hands of so many different regimes. Estonia has had a very turbulent past, one it seems to now be trying to cut away from whilst also remembering those that helped it get to this point. It has changed ownership between Denmark, Sweden, Russia and Germany numerous times, suffering massively at the hands of the Soviets and the Nazis before, during and after WWII. To give some perspective to this, the pre-war population of Saaremaa was 60,000 and in the next ten years it dropped buy half to 30,000 through deportations to gulags (prison camps in Siberia... Perm in fact was a popular destination), murders and refugees fleeing to Sweden to escape the occupations. In fact, Estonia itself has still not recovered to the same population that it had before the Soviets and the Nazis decimated it's people, a statistic I found staggering. No wonder Estonia is now pushing forward with its own identity, and having been reading the news recently about the on-going Russia-US "conflict" then it could spell troubled times ahead again... here's hoping that's not the case.
Leaving the museum I picked up a handy map showing different nature trails to go on in the surrounding area, so I set off with this purpose in mind. I noticed that one was near Kudjape German military cemetery, which I'd read about in my Lonely Planet guide, so decided on that one. The cemetery itself is huge in area and contains the bodies of the German soldiers who fought against the Nazis (some of whom were Estonians who thought, wrongly, that the Germans were coming to liberate them). There's a sign beside the gates that declares the cemetery now "represents peace", which is a nice thought but for me needed a fairly large leap of faith to believe. Maybe what I'd just been reading about in the museum was laying heavy on my mind, but I struggled to understand how so many graves are can show peace. Surely they show how atrocious war really is? With that thought going through my mind I headed off towards the start of the nature trail, prepared to follow it for it's 8km or so towards a "town" called Upa. I say "town", because when I arrived there all I could see was one house - a very nice house, but still only one! The walk was easy and very enjoyable despite the persistent heavy rain (a feature of my time on Saaremaa), but I could only imagine how much better it is in summer. At one point there was a huge danger sign nailed on a tree, with no explanation at all, and I have to say that being in woods that you don't really know, and having only a rough idea of your whereabouts, there's nothing that's as disconcerting as a danger sign with no explanation... suddenly every sound I heard formed a completely different (and more threatening) idea in my head! Of course, I'm still writing this in one piece, so there was nothing to be scared of, but I do wonder what that sign was for?
On my second morning I decided to hire a bike and cycle to "Europe's biggest meteor crater" which was about 16km away... easy. Well, it would've been if it wasn't for the storm that had set in to the island. The boats out there had been stopped for the day, and fences and trees were being thrown around in the high winds... cycling along I was more unsteady than ever. It was frustrating because I ended up having to get the bus, having psyched myself up for riding there, and of course although the crater is impressive, the fact that you get blown around it takes away from the experience somewhat. I must've stayed there for all of 10 minutes before catching the bus to my next stop, down on the Sores peninsula. This part of the island was the sight of some of the most heavy fighting during WWII and to be there now you really couldn't understand that because it's so peaceful. It was strange to be there and completely alone having seen photos of the battles that what happened there whilst in the museum the previous day and the place had a slightly eerie feeling to it. Again, because of the weather it was less enjoyable than I'd hoped, but like I'd wanted, I was getting to see more of the "real" Estonia rather than spending all my time in the capital. I tried to go and sample the local pub on my final night, it's housed in a huge windmill, but the weather put pay to this as well, having blow part of the fencing down and all the windows were battened shut... a disappointing end truth be told.
Of course, the day I was leaving the sun was shining and the gale force winds that had interrupted my adventures had completely disappeared. Sod's law. After the three days completely on my own I was looking forward to meeting up with Siret and Anton (two friend of Scott's girlfriend who had kindly put em in touch with them) back in Tallinn, to spend a few days there and learn more about the city from people with inside knowledge. We spent the first night getting accustomed to Tallinn's alcohol and local pubs and had a great time, meeting some bizzare characters along the way (there was one man who couldn't talk, he only shouted at me very loudly in Estonian despite my puzzled looks and very un-subtle attempts to shake him off), but once more the next day I was paying for it. We'd planned to head out to different areas of Lahemaa than where I'd been previously - Anton and Siret both anjoy walking too so they were more than happy to take the car and take me out to these places... nursing a hangover in a forest is actually a lot easier than doing it on your own couch. We ended the day watching the sun dip under the horizon on a pier in a town called Viniistu, and I will definitely try to stick a photo up of that... I'm not talented enough to do it justice with words.
The next couple of days were very enjoyable, Tallinn is a great city, but there's not much I can tell you (especially about the Old Town) that you can't find very easily elsewhere. Siret and Anton are fantastic people, very friendly and funny and made me feel completely at home with them. I learn a lot more about the out-of-town areas down by the docks from Anton - they're inhabited almost entirely by Russians (therefore taking the form of the many sleeping districts you seen in Russian towns) and are actually condemned buildings, but the government aren't prepared to kick people out and deal with the housing shortage. So resultantly you have a scenario where there's heavy drug use, murders, prostitution, assaults, robberies and umpteen fires all in a very small neighbourhood. We drove down there so I could see it first hand, and it's a shame that its in the way it is because the setting is right on the sea and if anything could be done then it'd be a wonderful place to live - although I'm aware that's a somewhat idyllic view. Sure enough, the houses all have government warning signs on them for people to "stay out" and stating that they're all fire hazards, but people still freely come and go through their doors. One of the more depressing things that I'd seen on my travels, but just as important in understanding the way Tallinn is. I left Tallinn the next day and was quite sad to leave behind a couple of people that I know considered as friends, and who I'd had a great few days with, but when travelling around I think you're comforted by the prospect of new friends in a new town and all that that can offer as well.
Saying that... Tartu didn't really offer much. It's a student town but seemed very quiet to me. The most prominent thing that will stick in my mind from my time there is that that was where I was when Barack Obama was voted in as the next president of the USA - a victory for common sense everywhere. It's an exciting time I think, he has many challenges and has to galvanise a lot of people (not only Americans), but from following him for a while I've learnt a lot of him and am confident in his ability. Of course, he'll invariably let everyone down at some point, it's in the make-up of a politician to do so, but overall I believe it's a positive exciting step for the world as a whole. One thing I did feel whilst watching it was a sense of jealously - politics should enthuse a whole nation, much as it did with America just there... We need shaken up just as much as they did, but I hardly see Messr's Cameron and Brown instilling the same fight into our population.
On my second day in Tartu I visited the old house in town which housed the KGB cells, where opposition to the Soviet regime were taken for torture and interrogation. The upstairs of the building was now a normal office space, but the downstairs had been maintained as it was during it's use, complete with cell doors and beds and was now open to the public. The first room you're ushered into contains exhibits of clothing and an interactive board where you can listen to re-tellings of the suffering some people went through at the hands of the KGB. Following around and reading the bare statistics and further unformation gives more context to the stories and you start to form a picture of just how shocking the treatment was and how widespread it was too. The isolation cells which prisoners were holed up in for up to 3 days are the most awkward size imaginable, designed to prevent you from sitting or standing up straight - I'm sure like me you can't begin to imagine what that is like. The sleeping cells have bunk beds in them, but serve as normal cells during the day - the only difference being that during the day matresses are taken away and prisoners are made to sit on the wire springs of the bed frame. The rooms themselves the day I went were freezing, something I'm sure which was exacerbated when they were in use as guards used to throw buckets of ice-cols water onto their stone floors. Inmates had their heads shaved and were disciplined for covering them; a bright light shone in each cell, all day and all night preventing sleep. In short, conditions were atrocious, sub-human... and you could be made to suffer these all for the heinous crime of being Estonian.
I read more about the communist gulags further on in the next room: 15 specialist regime ones existed for political prisoners; 60 enormous camp complexes and 500 smaller labour camps also existed, all of which were scattered throughout Russia, but mainly in Siberia - I could even map my trip through there by the concentrations of gulags in and around the towns I visited, which really struck me. You leave Russia (despite some ill talk you hear) with a slightly romantic notion of communism, evne Stalin's years. The sense of collective achievement of that time at the expense of the individual does still live on, and even Stalin himself is still positively obsessed over my large number of the population. Even in the west we're guilty of not viewing the Soviet regime as anywhere near as bad as the Nazis. How? Any romance I felt upon leaving Russia, with it's communist souvenirs and monuments to Lenin (I mean, you can even see the man himself like I did... you can still lay roses at Stalin's grave if you choose to) was battered out of me in Estonia, and has been even more so in Latvia. The stark facts of the numbers of people wiped from the planet by Communism are staggering and sickening in equal measure. Because it didn't happen in as short a period as the Nazis did it, does it dampen the effect on us? I ask that seriously because I do find myself wondering how on earth Communist symbols have made it into fashion in the west, that communist parties there stil exist. Now, I'm as guilty as anyone of accepting communism in this way, and my change of heart has came by being confronted with all of this information as I've moved through the Baltics, so it must be something to do with the fact that we just don't know about it in teh same way we did the Nazis. Just because it didn't affect us directly a blind eye was turned and I think it's something we should be made more aware of. Now seeing the Communist symbols flying at anti-war rallies will bring the same sickening feeling me that I would have with someone openly flying a Swastika, essentially there is no difference between the two. They were ideologically so similar, yet Communism seems to have been accepted more so. Try as I might I just can't get my head around it, and I'm sorry that this may be construed as a rant, but really believe it's something people need to know about. Should a hammer and sickle or the red star really be more acceptable as a fashion statement than an SS badge? I used to think so, now I know it's not the case.
As you may tell from the above, my experience in the KGB cells certainly affected me somewhat... it even made me think back to some of the things I almost bought in Russia (as at that point I still thought nothing of the above) and made me glad I didn't. I decided to try and distance myself from anything which might continue to antagonise my thoughts on the subject, so I headed over to the Tartu University Botanic Gardens and relaxed outside in the bright sunshine and cold air. I also walked out of town to see what it's like in suburban Estonia, to find it's very similar to areas on Saaremaa - run down woodn houses, smashed windows here and there, but the people you pass and who come out their houses greet you with smiles and cheer. We have it so easy where we are!
Well, I then spent a pretty forgettable day and a half in Parnu, I wanted to go canoeing but that fell through at the last minute as the guy who was meant to email me just dind't bother, so I moved on to Latvia and Riga, which is where I type this from now. I'm aware that this blog may not be in keeping with the others in terms of this huge rant I did at the end, and I was going to apologise for it, but thinking more about it now I'm not going to, I think it's important to think about this type of thing, and I'd liek to know anyone's ideas on why it sits that way. It's a view that I've discussed with a few people as I've travelled on and a lot of people that come through this way have the same thoughts, so I'd liek to know what anyone back home thinks, especially if they've never been out here.
Estonia is beautiful... I want to come back again and again. There's so much to see, so much to do. I've made a couple of great friends, and had an amazing time in this fantastic country. It's not somewhere that anyone would ever really think to go, but if like me you enjoy getting out of the cities, then it's perfect for you... in fact, Tallinn is so good you can have the best of both worlds and enjoy city life as well! If you ever get the opportunity, take it. Although, if you take my recommendations seriously then you'll probably end up in every country I get to...
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That night I headed back to the hostel and since there was a party going on I joined in, drinking copious amounts of "scotch" with some American frat boys and then Brown Ale in a pub somewhere in Tallinn, I have no idea where though. Again, this wasn't one of my better ideas as I was booked on a four hour bus journey the next day to head out to the island of Saaremaa, and when it came time to catch that bus I felt like I'd rather die there and then on the cold platform than face the trip. Reading this back, it seems like I've been drinking a lot over the time I've been away, but I can genuinely say I haven't. It's just that the times I have done it have been to such lengths that it affects me for days. I promise. Well anyway, the major plan for going to Saaremaa was to really get away from city/town life, and for a few days, just to be on my own finding out what Estonia is really like. The bus journey was nowhere near as bad as I'd expected and by the time I'd arrived in Kurresaare I was feeling a lot better and ready to start exploring the next day.
The next morning I contemplated hiring a bike to take myself around the island on (anyone who has seen me use a bike recently knows has probably almost fell off their seat laughing) but decided that on my first day I'd see how far I could get on foot, and plus there was a lot of good things to check out in and around Kurresaare itself first. I walked down to the harbour where the majestic Bishop's Castle sits on the shore and has now been turned into a museum of the history of Saaremaa. Since the museum didn't open until 11am, I took in the amazing views from the harbour and walked along the beaches as the rain fell. Even the terrible weather that I experienced whilst there couldn't put a detract from how gorgeous a corner of the world I was in.
As far as museums go, the one in castle was very good. If you're like me then you probably have little idea of the history of Estonia (or the Baltics generally, apart from the fact they're used to describe how cold you are and that it was a war zone not so long ago), so the exhibits were a complete shock to me and really opened my eyes to the immense suffering that this are has been through, at the hands of so many different regimes. Estonia has had a very turbulent past, one it seems to now be trying to cut away from whilst also remembering those that helped it get to this point. It has changed ownership between Denmark, Sweden, Russia and Germany numerous times, suffering massively at the hands of the Soviets and the Nazis before, during and after WWII. To give some perspective to this, the pre-war population of Saaremaa was 60,000 and in the next ten years it dropped buy half to 30,000 through deportations to gulags (prison camps in Siberia... Perm in fact was a popular destination), murders and refugees fleeing to Sweden to escape the occupations. In fact, Estonia itself has still not recovered to the same population that it had before the Soviets and the Nazis decimated it's people, a statistic I found staggering. No wonder Estonia is now pushing forward with its own identity, and having been reading the news recently about the on-going Russia-US "conflict" then it could spell troubled times ahead again... here's hoping that's not the case.
Leaving the museum I picked up a handy map showing different nature trails to go on in the surrounding area, so I set off with this purpose in mind. I noticed that one was near Kudjape German military cemetery, which I'd read about in my Lonely Planet guide, so decided on that one. The cemetery itself is huge in area and contains the bodies of the German soldiers who fought against the Nazis (some of whom were Estonians who thought, wrongly, that the Germans were coming to liberate them). There's a sign beside the gates that declares the cemetery now "represents peace", which is a nice thought but for me needed a fairly large leap of faith to believe. Maybe what I'd just been reading about in the museum was laying heavy on my mind, but I struggled to understand how so many graves are can show peace. Surely they show how atrocious war really is? With that thought going through my mind I headed off towards the start of the nature trail, prepared to follow it for it's 8km or so towards a "town" called Upa. I say "town", because when I arrived there all I could see was one house - a very nice house, but still only one! The walk was easy and very enjoyable despite the persistent heavy rain (a feature of my time on Saaremaa), but I could only imagine how much better it is in summer. At one point there was a huge danger sign nailed on a tree, with no explanation at all, and I have to say that being in woods that you don't really know, and having only a rough idea of your whereabouts, there's nothing that's as disconcerting as a danger sign with no explanation... suddenly every sound I heard formed a completely different (and more threatening) idea in my head! Of course, I'm still writing this in one piece, so there was nothing to be scared of, but I do wonder what that sign was for?
On my second morning I decided to hire a bike and cycle to "Europe's biggest meteor crater" which was about 16km away... easy. Well, it would've been if it wasn't for the storm that had set in to the island. The boats out there had been stopped for the day, and fences and trees were being thrown around in the high winds... cycling along I was more unsteady than ever. It was frustrating because I ended up having to get the bus, having psyched myself up for riding there, and of course although the crater is impressive, the fact that you get blown around it takes away from the experience somewhat. I must've stayed there for all of 10 minutes before catching the bus to my next stop, down on the Sores peninsula. This part of the island was the sight of some of the most heavy fighting during WWII and to be there now you really couldn't understand that because it's so peaceful. It was strange to be there and completely alone having seen photos of the battles that what happened there whilst in the museum the previous day and the place had a slightly eerie feeling to it. Again, because of the weather it was less enjoyable than I'd hoped, but like I'd wanted, I was getting to see more of the "real" Estonia rather than spending all my time in the capital. I tried to go and sample the local pub on my final night, it's housed in a huge windmill, but the weather put pay to this as well, having blow part of the fencing down and all the windows were battened shut... a disappointing end truth be told.
Of course, the day I was leaving the sun was shining and the gale force winds that had interrupted my adventures had completely disappeared. Sod's law. After the three days completely on my own I was looking forward to meeting up with Siret and Anton (two friend of Scott's girlfriend who had kindly put em in touch with them) back in Tallinn, to spend a few days there and learn more about the city from people with inside knowledge. We spent the first night getting accustomed to Tallinn's alcohol and local pubs and had a great time, meeting some bizzare characters along the way (there was one man who couldn't talk, he only shouted at me very loudly in Estonian despite my puzzled looks and very un-subtle attempts to shake him off), but once more the next day I was paying for it. We'd planned to head out to different areas of Lahemaa than where I'd been previously - Anton and Siret both anjoy walking too so they were more than happy to take the car and take me out to these places... nursing a hangover in a forest is actually a lot easier than doing it on your own couch. We ended the day watching the sun dip under the horizon on a pier in a town called Viniistu, and I will definitely try to stick a photo up of that... I'm not talented enough to do it justice with words.
The next couple of days were very enjoyable, Tallinn is a great city, but there's not much I can tell you (especially about the Old Town) that you can't find very easily elsewhere. Siret and Anton are fantastic people, very friendly and funny and made me feel completely at home with them. I learn a lot more about the out-of-town areas down by the docks from Anton - they're inhabited almost entirely by Russians (therefore taking the form of the many sleeping districts you seen in Russian towns) and are actually condemned buildings, but the government aren't prepared to kick people out and deal with the housing shortage. So resultantly you have a scenario where there's heavy drug use, murders, prostitution, assaults, robberies and umpteen fires all in a very small neighbourhood. We drove down there so I could see it first hand, and it's a shame that its in the way it is because the setting is right on the sea and if anything could be done then it'd be a wonderful place to live - although I'm aware that's a somewhat idyllic view. Sure enough, the houses all have government warning signs on them for people to "stay out" and stating that they're all fire hazards, but people still freely come and go through their doors. One of the more depressing things that I'd seen on my travels, but just as important in understanding the way Tallinn is. I left Tallinn the next day and was quite sad to leave behind a couple of people that I know considered as friends, and who I'd had a great few days with, but when travelling around I think you're comforted by the prospect of new friends in a new town and all that that can offer as well.
Saying that... Tartu didn't really offer much. It's a student town but seemed very quiet to me. The most prominent thing that will stick in my mind from my time there is that that was where I was when Barack Obama was voted in as the next president of the USA - a victory for common sense everywhere. It's an exciting time I think, he has many challenges and has to galvanise a lot of people (not only Americans), but from following him for a while I've learnt a lot of him and am confident in his ability. Of course, he'll invariably let everyone down at some point, it's in the make-up of a politician to do so, but overall I believe it's a positive exciting step for the world as a whole. One thing I did feel whilst watching it was a sense of jealously - politics should enthuse a whole nation, much as it did with America just there... We need shaken up just as much as they did, but I hardly see Messr's Cameron and Brown instilling the same fight into our population.
On my second day in Tartu I visited the old house in town which housed the KGB cells, where opposition to the Soviet regime were taken for torture and interrogation. The upstairs of the building was now a normal office space, but the downstairs had been maintained as it was during it's use, complete with cell doors and beds and was now open to the public. The first room you're ushered into contains exhibits of clothing and an interactive board where you can listen to re-tellings of the suffering some people went through at the hands of the KGB. Following around and reading the bare statistics and further unformation gives more context to the stories and you start to form a picture of just how shocking the treatment was and how widespread it was too. The isolation cells which prisoners were holed up in for up to 3 days are the most awkward size imaginable, designed to prevent you from sitting or standing up straight - I'm sure like me you can't begin to imagine what that is like. The sleeping cells have bunk beds in them, but serve as normal cells during the day - the only difference being that during the day matresses are taken away and prisoners are made to sit on the wire springs of the bed frame. The rooms themselves the day I went were freezing, something I'm sure which was exacerbated when they were in use as guards used to throw buckets of ice-cols water onto their stone floors. Inmates had their heads shaved and were disciplined for covering them; a bright light shone in each cell, all day and all night preventing sleep. In short, conditions were atrocious, sub-human... and you could be made to suffer these all for the heinous crime of being Estonian.
I read more about the communist gulags further on in the next room: 15 specialist regime ones existed for political prisoners; 60 enormous camp complexes and 500 smaller labour camps also existed, all of which were scattered throughout Russia, but mainly in Siberia - I could even map my trip through there by the concentrations of gulags in and around the towns I visited, which really struck me. You leave Russia (despite some ill talk you hear) with a slightly romantic notion of communism, evne Stalin's years. The sense of collective achievement of that time at the expense of the individual does still live on, and even Stalin himself is still positively obsessed over my large number of the population. Even in the west we're guilty of not viewing the Soviet regime as anywhere near as bad as the Nazis. How? Any romance I felt upon leaving Russia, with it's communist souvenirs and monuments to Lenin (I mean, you can even see the man himself like I did... you can still lay roses at Stalin's grave if you choose to) was battered out of me in Estonia, and has been even more so in Latvia. The stark facts of the numbers of people wiped from the planet by Communism are staggering and sickening in equal measure. Because it didn't happen in as short a period as the Nazis did it, does it dampen the effect on us? I ask that seriously because I do find myself wondering how on earth Communist symbols have made it into fashion in the west, that communist parties there stil exist. Now, I'm as guilty as anyone of accepting communism in this way, and my change of heart has came by being confronted with all of this information as I've moved through the Baltics, so it must be something to do with the fact that we just don't know about it in teh same way we did the Nazis. Just because it didn't affect us directly a blind eye was turned and I think it's something we should be made more aware of. Now seeing the Communist symbols flying at anti-war rallies will bring the same sickening feeling me that I would have with someone openly flying a Swastika, essentially there is no difference between the two. They were ideologically so similar, yet Communism seems to have been accepted more so. Try as I might I just can't get my head around it, and I'm sorry that this may be construed as a rant, but really believe it's something people need to know about. Should a hammer and sickle or the red star really be more acceptable as a fashion statement than an SS badge? I used to think so, now I know it's not the case.
As you may tell from the above, my experience in the KGB cells certainly affected me somewhat... it even made me think back to some of the things I almost bought in Russia (as at that point I still thought nothing of the above) and made me glad I didn't. I decided to try and distance myself from anything which might continue to antagonise my thoughts on the subject, so I headed over to the Tartu University Botanic Gardens and relaxed outside in the bright sunshine and cold air. I also walked out of town to see what it's like in suburban Estonia, to find it's very similar to areas on Saaremaa - run down woodn houses, smashed windows here and there, but the people you pass and who come out their houses greet you with smiles and cheer. We have it so easy where we are!
Well, I then spent a pretty forgettable day and a half in Parnu, I wanted to go canoeing but that fell through at the last minute as the guy who was meant to email me just dind't bother, so I moved on to Latvia and Riga, which is where I type this from now. I'm aware that this blog may not be in keeping with the others in terms of this huge rant I did at the end, and I was going to apologise for it, but thinking more about it now I'm not going to, I think it's important to think about this type of thing, and I'd liek to know anyone's ideas on why it sits that way. It's a view that I've discussed with a few people as I've travelled on and a lot of people that come through this way have the same thoughts, so I'd liek to know what anyone back home thinks, especially if they've never been out here.
Estonia is beautiful... I want to come back again and again. There's so much to see, so much to do. I've made a couple of great friends, and had an amazing time in this fantastic country. It's not somewhere that anyone would ever really think to go, but if like me you enjoy getting out of the cities, then it's perfect for you... in fact, Tallinn is so good you can have the best of both worlds and enjoy city life as well! If you ever get the opportunity, take it. Although, if you take my recommendations seriously then you'll probably end up in every country I get to...
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