Last Updated on November 13, 2020 by George Pavlopoulos
Dear Barbara,
The days in Tallinn are short. The sun won’t rise before 8:30 and seven hours later has already set. Tallinn is a compact city: it has less than half a million inhabitants and the sea surrounds it.
I haven’t seen the sea for quite a while now, from the time I was in Anafi actually. You remember that I promised to make occasional stops by the sea, right? This was one of the things that motivated me actually to visit Tallinn in the first place. Staying away from the sea is never easy. Unfortunately, the summer is gone: it’s winter in Tallinn.
Prelude to Winter in Tallinn

The sky is grey and every now and then snowflakes appear in the air. It’s the first time I see snow this winter. The light snowfall won’t last for long though; the weather seems to change every ten minutes in the capital of Estonia. The sun climbs above the clouds for ten minutes, then everything looks dark all of a sudden, and after a light snowfall, tiny rainbows jump from the sea. This is a procedure that keeps on repeating all day long.
I think that my body invented a way to heal the light anxiety I often feel shortly before traveling. There is a song that comes out of the blue in my head and plays on and on. This sort of earworm has become through the years some sort of healing melody. I learned to pay attention to it and sometimes I take it as a prelude to the place I’m visiting. I guess you remember well that I’ve been kind of anxious before leaving for the airport. But Tallinn, as it often happens with every city, dictated its own soundtrack. It’s a Greek song from the ’90s that I listened to as a teenager. Not my favorite song definitely, but still one that I remember from time to time.
A loophole in the infrastructure

At times, I have the feeling that Tallinn wears a fancy costume. It’s the only way I can think of this society that has advanced technologically in a supreme way. Having visited the neighboring Baltic countries, Latvia and Lithuania, I must say that Tallinn is well ahead. The infrastructure is enviable and only every now and then some old-fashioned element cracks into daily life.
For example, I ride the tram late in the afternoon, but when I enter it there is nowhere to buy a ticket. Sure, there are machines that read e-cards, but if you don’t have one, what could you possibly do? It doesn’t seem possible to buy a ticket directly from the driver either: his door is locked. I walk up and down the tram in search of a vending machine but I can’t find one. Then I ask a girl, probably a university student, how on earth can I buy a ticket.
The girl nods to me and tells me to follow her. We walk towards the closed door of the driver. “Here”, she says. She then opens a tiny box carved on the glass door and says: “Put your money here. The driver will hear the clinking of the coins and he will give you a ticket in the next stop”. And to my surprise, that’s exactly what happens.
Medieval Tallinn with a touch of youth

Tallinn’s old town is medieval. But the atmosphere in the city has a youthful touch. There are plenty of startup companies and as I walk through the Old Town the cafes are full of laptops. Hipster cafes and the new ethics of employment appear behind the steamed windows.
The Old Town is clean and neatly organized. It seems that a big refurbishing project was concluded because the colors are bright and the cobblestoned streets in order. I end up soon at the Freedom Square, which looks totally unimpressive. There is a good reason for that though: in former times, until 2010, the Square was just a parking lot. Only in 2010, it started to serve as a square. The place itself wanted probably to abolish its past: during the Soviet period, this was used again as a square, called the Victory Square.
The Raekojaplats is hands down the most impressive square of the city though. The Town Hall is there, of course, and the square has enough open space for the pedestrians as well as for hosting the city’s Christmas market. There are a bunch of streets starting from the Raekoja and I follow them all, in order to see where they’re leading to. I keep on circling around the Old Town, only to realize that a) the area is an architectural gem and b) that it’s fairly expensive.
Later on, I end up at the top of the Toompea Loss, the castle on top of the hill. The Aleksander Nevsky Cathedral appears in glorious light. The seagulls take a rest at the viewpoints of this hill and I spend some time photographing them until they get bored and they fly away.
On the road to Kalamaja

Tallinn reminds me a lot of Helsinki -its influence seems apparent- and at times I actually think that Tallinn could be a suburb of Helsinki. You see, there are so many catamarans crossing the Baltic Sea and they reach Helsinki in ninety minutes. The bonds between the two cities are tight.
Leaving the port behind, I find myself in Kalamaja, which is assumed one of the coolest areas of Tallinn. Unfortunately, the day visit Kalamaja is a grey Monday morning with light snowfall and the area seems deserted. I plan to visit the Lennusadam Seaplane Harbour Museum and then have a cup of coffee, but like a total fool, I forget that on Mondays the majority of the museums are closed all around the world.
All I see is the quay, where a couple of workers having their lunch break. Time has desaturated their clothes and one of them does something odd: he screams like he is totally angry and one second later he laughs. This scene is repeated for almost two minutes and he doesn’t seem to narrate anything at all: he just screams angrily and then laughs. The other guys look at him rather thunderstruck but after a while, they start to do the same. It’s either some sort of a game or they perform something I cannot understand. It could have easily been a scene from a Parajanov movie.
An unfortunate event in Tallinn

During my days in Tallinn, there is some movie festival taking place. I’ve never heard of it before but I’m totally enthusiastic: I love watching movies while traveling and since the days are very short this would be something nice for my evenings in the city.
On the first day I watch two average movies. The next day though, there is something not very clear in the program. We’re living in the digital era and I think of asking my question on social media. I write the question honestly, using 5 or 6 words but I receive a reply full of snobbery. Huh? Where did this come from? A film festival employee or director should know how to behave. Instead of starting to argue, I just reply with a pun and I, of course, cancel my plans of visiting the festival again.
This is not due to ultra-sensitivity. It also has nothing to do with the bad days that each one of us has. I can forgive anything but not bad behavior. You talk quite often about my “diplomacy”, Barbara, and we both make fun of it. It’s true, I’m like this. If any kind of festival/organization/whatever behaves like this, then I won’t deal with them further. I don’t plan to be tolerant of intolerant people.
The cost of progress in Tallinn

During the days of my stay in Tallinn I’m questioning myself about my interaction with the locals. I don’t let the unfortunate event that I narrated you to blur my judgment. The locals are polite but at the same time significantly distant. The feeling is different here than, for example, in Vilnius. I’m not even talking about Armenia that seems the epitome of hospitality. I’m using the example of Lithuania, a neighboring country less advanced compared to the Estonian standards.
I have the feeling -and I might be awfully wrong- that the fast development of Tallinn to an advanced technological society was not digested in societal terms. I feel that there is something lost during the transition. Tallinn has a million things to admire but this keeps bothering me a lot. It seems to be something like a gap, some sort of a loophole in the infrastructure of a whole behavioral system. As I said earlier, I might be totally wrong -actually, I hope I am. But what I also know is that I felt uncomfortable five or six times during my stay here.
At Linnahall

I have just returned from Linnahall, an area constructed for the Olympic Games of Moscow in 1980 that seems currently in decay. There are re-construction plans though and from what I learn from the locals it’s a popular hangout in the summertime. From the top, the view over the port of Tallinn is stunning.
It’s my last evening in Tallinn and I enjoy a cup of coffee. The windows are steamed up, it’s really cold outside. I enjoyed very much being next to the sea for a couple of days though. I will soon walk through the Town Hall Square, where the Christmas Market is in full form: lights, ornaments, smells, and countless lights. A long winter starts here, Barbara. I have no clue when I’m gonna see the sea again. But I’m gonna see you soon.
Love,
George
More about Tallinn: What to see in Tallinn
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Hi, thank you for the information you provide, i hope to learn more from you
You are very welcome.