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*** ESTONIA 2011 - Weeks 11~12 *** |
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 CAMPING
IN ESTONIA 2011 - Islands of Saaremaa
and Hiiumaa,
Capital City Tallinn, and the Lahemaa National Park:On a bright sunny August morning, we left Latvia and just beyond Salacgrīva, crossed into this trip's third host country Estonia (Photo 1 - Crossing the border into Estonia). Our plan for the first 2 weeks was to visit Estonia's 2 largest islands, Saaremaa and Hiiumaa, before returning to the mainland for a couple of days in Tallinn the capital city and conclude this period in the Lahemaa National Park along Estonia's Baltic northern seaboard.
As we continued through pine-covered sandy
hills along the Baltic coastline, our 4 week familiarity with Latvian was
displaced by the sight of bizarre sounding Estonian place names.
We passed through the Baltic resort town of Pärnu glancing at the wooden
buildings
The well-preserved Bishop's Castle in Kuressaare, built by the Germanic occupiers in 1261 to keep the natives of Saaremaa under tight control, now houses the Saaremaa Regional Museum in its labyrinthine keep. The entrance fee of €4 is expensive by Baltic standards and the sequence of displays is not well-signed, but the Museum gives a worthwhile overview of Saaremaa's history from its prehistoric settlement by Finno-Ugric tribes, through medieval Germanic occupation, to the period of the first Estonian Republic, the WW2 German occupation and the 50 years of repressive communist occupation. The period as a Soviet border zone with highly restrictive entry even for local residents, leading to the 1991 re-establishment of Estonian independence is very well covered.
Saaremaa's fertile soil has always supported flourishing farming of barley, wheat and rye, and many surviving windmills dot the landscape. At Angla a few kms to the north, a group of 5 windmills are clustered on a slightly raised exposed point aligned along the roadside. The native Saaremaa mill is of the post type, where the entire cabin structure supporting the sails is turned on a huge wooden pivot set on a stone base to catch the wind. Clearly at Angla there had been enough work from the surrounding farmlands to support 5 millers. The restored windmills are now open to the public; you are free to clamber up into the mill and examine the wooden gearing that turned the mill-wheels and information-panels explain the windmills' working. On the day we were there, the dark sky provided a starkly threatening backdrop to our photos (see right) (Photo 3 - The post-windmills at Angla).
The following morning, we continued around the
island's northern coast road close to the pine fringed Baltic shoreline of
Tagalaht Bay (Photo 5 - Baltic shoreline at Tagalaht
Bay on north coast of Saaremaa) to the tiny fishing harbour of Veere.
Westwards from here, the Harilaid peninsula is now a stony, scrub-covered
landscape; once a plateau-land of scattered farms, the area was depopulated
after being turned into a
On our final morning on Saaremaa, we crossed
the island again to the tiny port of Triigi on the north coast to await the
ferry for the hour's crossing to the neighbouring island of Hiiumaa. Although
small, the ferry easily absorbed the dozen or so vehicles waiting to cross (Photo 9 - Ferry crossing from
Saaremaa to Sõru on South Hiiumaa), and we drove ashore at Sõru on
the southern coastline of Hiiumaa, Estonia's
The following morning we turned off on a narrow
lane running the length of the Tahkuna peninsula towards the northern point of
the island. This densely wooded coastal area had been heavily fortified by
occupying Germans and Soviets and bitterly fought over in both 1941 and 1944,
with evident remains of concrete gun emplacements
A short distance along the main road towards
Hiiumaa's main town of Kärdla, a brown sign pointed to Ristimägi, location of an
Estonian Hill of Crosses. North Hiiumaa had from the early days of the Swedish
Empire been settled by Swedish peasant farmers. Once however the Tsarist
Russians had taken over Estonia after the Great Northern War in the early 18th
century, these unfortunate people's days were numbered. Barbarism seems an
innate Russian quality and mass deportation was not an invention of the
communists; their Tsarist predecessors had equally
The road was good and we made fast progress
towards the capital city, passing across agricultural countryside and forests
with a few isolated villages. In 2 hours, we approached Tallinn outskirts , and
the traffic increased as we entered the suburbs. What seemed from the map
a straightforward route through the city turned out to be a complex
journey in heavy traffic through the heart of the capital before we could
Continuing along Pikk, we reached St Olaf's
Church whose massive Gothic structure is topped by the city's tallest spire,
said to have been built so tall and slender to attract trade from passing ships.
It was also reputedly used by the KGB for surveillance of the citizens of
Tallinn below. It is worth seeking out a curiously carved tombstone set in a
niche in the exterior east-end wall; this tombstone of a 15th century plague
victim feature the macabre depiction of a decaying corpse. It is also worthwhile
climbing the church tower, albeit an
We crossed Castle Square and presented
ourselves to the security desk for our 12-00 noon appointment. Our guide, Stiwan Kald led us up to the press gallery of the Riigikogu plenary chamber, and
explained the membership and working of parliament, and the history of the
building with
It was now time to leave Toompea and we made our
way back down into the modern city to find the Museum of Occupation and
Fight for Freedom. Opened in 2003 in a modern box-like building at the foot of Toompea Hill, the museum is dedicated to a factual presentation on the successive
occupations of Estonia during the long years of 1939~91: firstly by the Soviets
1939~41, then by
Before leaving Tallinn to resume our eastward
journey, we made one last stop to see Tallinn's Song Festival Grounds, the
Lauluväljak. This vast amphitheatre set on the natural slope of the hillside
overlooking Tallinn Bay has been the venue for Estonia's national Song Festivals
since the arena's opening in 1959.
The whole arena can hold over 150,000 and the stage area set under a huge arched
canopy holds 15,000 massed
Dropping down the Glint to the coastal plain, we based our 3 days in Lahemaa at Eesti Karavan Camping, a well-appointed campsite with clean facilities, washing machine and free wi-fi, near to Vösu village where the local mini-market supplied essentials. A glorious sunset across the bay promised continuation of the fine weather, and in the gathering dusk we walked down to the beach where bonfires burned around the distant sweep of the bay. Apparently it had become a tradition all around the Baltic coast, from Poland around to Finland and Sweden to light beach bonfires on the night of the last Saturday in August in memory of those lost at sea.
Our second day at Lahemaa was spent around the
shoreline and forested boulder fields of the Käsmu peninsula. Käsmu village's
prosperity dates from its brief period of sea-faring fame in the late 19th
century when Käsmu Bay, less prone to icing than other anchorages along the
Baltic coast became a busy winter mooring for sailing ships and a major
ship-building centre. A maritime training collage began here in 1884 and many of
its graduates retired here earning Käsmu the nickname of 'Captains' village'.
The development of deep-draught steam ships Our final night's camp in Lahemaa was at the Lahemaa Kohvikann (Coffee Pot), a small restaurant at Palse near the National Park Visitor Centre with a camping area to the rear. It is kept by Dieter and Julia Hölscher, he from near Hannover and she from St Petersburg; they settled in Estonia in 2008, and offer a truly hospitable welcome at the Kohvikann. We enjoyed interesting conversation about life in contemporary Estonia, and a delightful meal in the restaurant (all home cooked by Dieter) during our 2 nights' stay, and thoroughly recommend the Lahemaa Kohvikann to others (see photo at foot of page); visit the website of the Lahemaa Kohvikann During our first 2 weeks in Estonia, we had contrasting experiences of the peaceful rustic charm of the western islands of Saaremaa and Hiiumaa, and the medieval delights of Estonia's capital city, Tallinn, now regrettably overrun with cruise-ship borne tourists. We should now move eastwards to see another contrasting face of Estonia, the oil-shale mining towns of the north-east with their predominantly Russian-speaking population and the border city of Narva, before turning south around what we hope would be the peaceful shores of Lake Peipsi and a visit to the University-city of Tartu. So much still to see and to learn; follow our next episode in a couple of weeks.
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along the main street, knowing that we should end our stay in Estonia
back here in 5 weeks time.
Beyond Pärnu, it was a long and empty road through forest and bog-land to the
junction leading to the ferry port of Virtsu for the 15 minute crossing to the
largest of Estonia's western islands, Saaremaa, our home for the next 5 days. It
was a strange feeling paying for the ferry tickets in €s; Estonia alone of the
Baltic Republics joined the Euro-zone in January 2011, a political decision
welcomed by the business community but unpopular with the public who fear
price-inflation in moving from their familiar Estonian kroons.
The
ferry docks on Muhu, a small intermediate island dotted with farming communities
such as Liiva with its 13th century sturdily Gothic white-washed church of St
Katherine and wooden windmills, some of the many which still survive on the
islands. A 3 kms causeway links to the main island of Saaremaa where all the
main roads are now tarmaced, and a long 50 kms drive across the length of the
island leads to the main town of Kuressaare where you can stock up with
provisions at Rimi or Maxima supermarkets. Tucked away in a quiet side-lane at
the edge of town, we found Camping Piibelehe (meaning Lily of the Valley in
Estonian), a small, peaceful and welcoming campsite set amid gardens of the
family home; the welcome was second-to-none, and with homely facilities,
delightful setting
and free wi-fi, it made for a relaxing spot to take a break to
catch up with jobs.
First stop on our
island tour was the farming hamlet of Kaali, where some
5,500 years ago, a huge meteorite struck the earth; the impact left a crater
130m in diameter and 22m deep, throwing up a massive surrounding wall of debris.
The impact energy equated with the blast of the Hiroshima atomic bomb and
incinerated forests within a 6km radius. The original meteor broke up on entering the earth's atmosphere and several
fragments fell in the vicinity of Kaali causing 8 smaller craters. But the
largest fragment left one of the most accessible meteorite craters in
Europe and now provides a source of tourist income for the small village.
You
can now walk around the rim of the surrounding tree-covered embankment of rubble
and peer down into the water-filled crater pit which on an overcast morning is
an eerily gloomy place
(see left) (Photo 2 - The Kaali meteorite crater).
Turning west from Leisi along the northern coast, in open countryside just
beyond the village of Metsküla we reached an isolated wooden Orthodox church, a
reminder that in Tsarist times many of the islanders had adopted the Orthodox
religion in exchange for free grants of land from the Russian authorities.
The road ended at the northern coast by the sheer
limestone cliffs of Panga Pank,
only 20m high but significant by Estonian standards, with the afternoon sun sparkling across the sea to the west (Photo 4 - Panga Pank limestone cliffs on
north coast of Saaremaa).
Nearby 2 of the former post-windmills had been decorated in the form of the
island's folk heroes, the amiable but short-tempered giant Suur Töll and his
ever patient wife Piret (see left). All we knew of tonight's planned campsite,
Camping Pidula, was that it was set alongside a trout farm; it turned out to
be an over-commercialised, multi-attraction holiday centre with a 3rd rate
campsite as an afterthought. We stayed if only for the novelty of the
catch-your-own trout supper, albeit expensive (see right), and the lakeside
setting against the dark backdrop of pine woods.
militarised security zone by the Soviets. We crossed
this neck of barren land on a narrow dirt road towards Kõruse, now a virtual
ghost-village with the broken shells of former cottages and only a couple of
impoverished-looking farmsteads still occupied. The place now has a forlornly sad
air. Back at the tarmaced road again, we reached Kihelkonna a larger farming
settlement clustered around its 13th century whitewashed Gothic church, the size
of which showed the former wealth of this medieval village (see left). Just beyond at the
smaller settlement of Viki, the Mihkli Farm Museum set up in 1959 portrays life
on a traditional Saaremaa farm. The farm had been worked from the 18th
century for 8 generations of the same family, until the deaths of sons in the
1940s war and post-WW2 collectivisation under the communists brought all this to
an end. Despite the bright flowers growing around the thatched homestead, the
museum now has the sad and lifeless air of many such museums (Photo 6 - Mihkli Farm Museum at Viki in
Western Saaremaa). We continued on to the Vilsandi National Park Visitor Centre at Loona for information on coastal
walks. The National Park covers 150 offshore, mainly uninhabited islands as well
as the narrow coastal strip of Western Saaremaa, and from the Visitor Centre we
followed footpaths out to the reed-fringed coast by a small anchorage at
Kiirassaare Bay where we could photograph some of the closer off-shore islets (Photo 7 - Kiirassaare
Bay in the Vilsandi National Park). Although Estonia has few western-style
campsites, there is no shortage of camping opportunities, often associates with
a 'guesthouse' (puhkeküla) or hotel, and the standard of hospitality was
generally very welcoming. We found one such farm guesthouse camping on the west
coast of Saaremaa, the Muha Puhketalu in a pleasant garden setting within
earshot of the shoreline surf (see right).
The
sparsely populated Sõrve peninsula projects south-westerly from the main body of
Saaremaa and had been the scene of vicious fighting in late 1944 as the German
occupiers tried to evacuate their troops from here across the Baltic in the face
of the advancing Red Army. Just at the neck of the peninsula at Tehumardi, a
tall graceless concrete obelisk commemorates the Russian and Estonian war-dead
from night-time battles in October 1944. We followed unsurfaced back lanes
through pine woods around the western side of the Sõrve peninsula (Photo 8 -Unsurfaced
back lanes of Sõrve peninsula), and down the reed-
fringed
shingle beaches of the west coast, past empty marshland and scrub-covered heath
to the isolated lighthouse at the southern tip. During the communist period, the
Soviets had fortified this entire coastline with artillery and missile sites,
patrolling with border guards what in their paranoia they saw as the USSR's
western frontier. The gaunt, empty former Soviet border guard barracks still
stand by Sääre lighthouse, as ghostly reminders of this horrific period of
Estonia's occupation. We stood there by the lighthouse looking out across the
still waters of the straits which separate the Gulf of Rīga from the open
Baltic; somewhere across there was Cape Kolka on the Latvian coast where we had
stood 4 weeks previously looking across in this direction.
second largest island.
Hiiumaa's thin, sandy soil has never supported the same scale of agriculture as
Saaremaa and the sparsely populated island is largely covered with pine forests,
peat bogs and scrub-heath-land. The island is 75km east~west and 50km
north~south, and we drove westwards out along the pine-covered narrow peninsula
beyond the settlement of Kõpu with the tarmac lane continuing to the westernmost
tip by the lighthouse at Ristna. From the viewing platform atop the lighthouse's
slender metal tower, we could look out across the dense pine forests to
the rocky shoreline and to the northwest a neck of sand and shingle tapered out
into the sea with opposing tides converging around its tip. We followed a sandy
path through the woods and out along to the tip of the hooked sand-spit. The
dramatic cloudscape and bright sun sparkling on the water created endless
photographic opportunity at this wonderfully isolated tip of land at the
island's extreme westerly point looking out across the Baltic (Photo 10 - Dramatic cloudscape over Baltic
).
Just
inland at Kõpu, set on a hillock overlooking the north coast is one of the
world's longest continuously operating lighthouses, built originally as an unlit
beacon tower in 1531 by the Hanseatic League to alert passing traders of this
coastline's treacherous sandbanks. The tower was later enhanced by a wood fire,
gas lamp and in the 20th century by electric light. Kõpu lighthouse is a bulky
monster of a 37m high square limestone tower, now reinforced by massive concrete
buttresses, giving it a distinctive if ungainly appearance (Photo 11 - Kõpu
lighthouse on north coast of Hiiumaa). We camped that night at a memorable
spot by the tiny harbour of Kalana at the SW tip of the peninsula, and we sat to
eat our supper with the distant soporific background sound of Baltic surf washing
onto the nearby beach. As the sun declined towards the western horizon, we were
able to look out at a dramatic sunset with the sun's golden tail sparkling
across the waters of the Baltic; camping spots don't come better than this (Photo 12 - Sunset across the Baltic
from our camp at Kalana harbour).
among
the trees. The tip of the peninsula was marked by the elegantly slender Tahkuna
lighthouse, but of greater interest was the curious memorial perched on the
shoreline by the water's edge to the 852 passengers drowned when the ferry
Estonia sank in a storm 30 miles off northern Hiiumaa in September 1994. The
memorial takes the form of a 12m high rusting metal frame enclosing a pivotal
cross which swings in the wind. A bell sculpted with children's faces is
suspended from the cross, and only rings when the wind blows at the same speed
and direction as on the night of the fatal disaster. Mystery still surrounds the
sinking: in 1994 the joint Swedish~Estonian venture Estland started a ferry
service connecting Tallinn and Stockholm, using an already 14 year old ro-ro
Baltic ferry, renamed Estonia as a symbol of pride for the newly
independent Estonians. An international board of enquiry concluded that stormy
seas tore off the ferry's bow-gate allowing sea water to flood the car deck. The
ferry sank within an hour killing 852 passengers and crew in one of Europe's
worst maritime disasters. Despite the enquiry, all kinds of conspiracy theories
still surround the sinking, and to date no one has been found liable for the
disaster and no compensation paid. We walked out across the dunes to where the
angular, rusting memorial stood at this isolated and almost eerie spot,
looking out across the grey Baltic which today was flat calm (Photo 13 -
Estonia memorial at Tahkuna point).
practised this instrument of
terror. In 1781 Catherine the Great had ordered the aristocratic landowners of Hiiumaa to deport their Swedish tenants en masse to the Ukraine. The landlords
duly obliged and at this spot amid the forests and dunes at Risti, the
last 1000 Swedish-descended people gathered for their final act of worship
before beginning their journey into exile. The survivors settled at a village in
the Ukraine and it was only in 1929 that the Soviet authorities allowed
their descendents to return to Sweden where they re-settled in Gotland. To
mark this spot at Ristimägi, a tradition has grown up for first-time visitors to
plant a cross of remembrance here, but for the spirit of good fortune to
succeed, the cross must be made entirely of natural materials growing here. Here
among the pine woods we found the collection of crude crosses, not on the scale
of Catholic Lithuania, but still a moving sight, and we duly bound together a
cross of pine branches to plant among the others (Photo 14 - Natural crosses planted at Estonia's Hill of Crosses
at Ristimägi).
From Kärdla, we crossed the width of the
island and the causeway linking to the semi-island of Kassari off Hiiumaa's
southern coast, to walk out along the narrow sand-spit extending from its
offshore tip and covered with coarse juniper scrub. We camped for our second
night on Hiiumaa at another of the 'guest-house' style
campsites, Vetsi Tall
Puhkeküla, but in pouring rain with Estonia's summer season now drawing to a
close, this was a woefully neglected place. The following morning, we
caught the ferry from Heltermaa on the island's east coast for the 1½ hour
crossing back to Rohuküla on the Estonian mainland for the cross-country drive
to Tallinn. At the first town we passed through, the Baltic resort of Haapsala,
the impressive Tsarist era belle époque railway station now houses
Estonia's rail museum, and 3 magnificently monstrous post-war Soviet heavy
freight locomotives stood in the sidings alongside the road. One of these was
reported to have pulled a Red Army troop train to Czechoslovakia in 1968
to help crush the Prague Spring.
turn
along round the harbour road towards Pirita. There were 2 possible city-campsite
options in this area both on the main bus route into the centre: a quick glance
showed Tallinn City Camping to be nothing more than a grubby yard behind a
hotel and overshadowed by tall buildings; further out however, Pirita Harbour
Camping was set in the large parking area alongside the yacht marina and shared
its facilities, with open views looking across the water towards the city and a
grassy area for tents. Ambient noise levels were high, especially with the added
nuisance value of a convoy of French camping-cars making Gallic hullabaloo, but
yachts came and went around the harbour, and as the sun set across the water,
large ferries and cruise ships sailed out from the city docks. It was such a day
of contrasts, moving from the bucolic peace of Hiiumaa to the bustling
environment of a city campsite, and tomorrow we should begin our exploration of Estonia's capital city Tallinn.
The
following morning in bright sunshine we caught the #8 bus around the sweep of
Tallinn Bay into the central area of the city. Tallinn's origins go back to the
beginning of the 13th century when empire-building Danish King Valdemar II
fortified a Baltic trading settlement here as a base from which to subdue the
pagan Estonian tribes, aided by the legendary Dannebrog flag descending from
heaven to inspire his victory. German merchants settled around the Castle built
on Toompea Hill at the developing trading centre of Tallinn which joined the
Hanseatic League. The Danes sold their holdings in Estonia for 19,000 silver
marks to the Livonian Order Germanic Knights who ruled Tallinn from Toompea
Castle, with the German mercantile classes occupying the expanding lower town
and adopting Lutheranism in the 16th century. With the Livonian Order's decline,
Tallinn fell under the Swedish Empire and its mercantile power declined. In 1710
Peter the Great occupied the city which for the next 2 centuries became a
fashionable bathing resort in the Russian Empire. The arrival of the railways in
1870 revived Tallinn's importance as a port and industrial centre, changing the
city's ethnic profile as native Estonians increasingly flocked in from the
countryside. During the 19th century, Tallinn's population had predominantly
been German, but by the early 20th century, Estonians became a more significant
presence making the city the focus of a developing nationalist movement. In 1920
after the Estonian War of Independence, Tallinn became capital of the new
Republic of
Estonia, until the
1st Soviet occupation in 1940. After 1945, Soviet rule brought repression and
deportations and the imposition of Stalinist culture. Further industrialisation
brought enforced immigration of 1000s of Russian workers from the USSR, so that
by Estonian re-independence in 1991, the city's population had increased to
420,000 with Russians making up 40% and almost outnumbering Estonians. The
walled medieval heart of the Old Town survived Soviet rule largely intact and
left the city with a tourist potential ready to be exploited. Revived ferry
links with Scandinavia brought waves of northern visitors, and EU membership in
2004 resulted in an influx of foreign investment. And stepping off the bus in
the centre, here we stood surrounded by the modern city's high-rise buildings
amid busy traffic and bustling trams (Photo
15 - City trams passing the Old Town in Tallinn's busy centre),
peering bemusedly at our city map to get our bearings, as always on arrival in a
new city.
Almost as soon as entering Tallinn's Old Town
by the medieval Viru Gateway (Photo 16 - Entering Tallinn Old Town at the medieval Viru Gateway),
we were overwhelmed by moronic masses of tourists, slavishly trailing
after the banners of their bored-looking tour-guides; it was a total culture
shock after the comparative peacefulness of Rīga and Vilnius. Tallinn is daily
afflicted by invading hoards of tourists who flood in from the huge cruise ships
which dock overnight at the city harbour. Such was the crush of pushing, shoving
tourists that it was impossible to appreciate the medieval splendour of the Old
Town, particularly around Raekoja plats (Town Hall Square) (Photo 17 - Town Hall spire from Viru in Tallinn Old Town).
We fought our way through into Pikk tänav to find sanctuary in the tiny Gothic
Church of the Holy Ghost. Originally the town hall chapel, it became the
main church of the medieval city's small Estonian population; in 1523 priests
from the church compiled an Estonian language catechism, an important
expression of identity at a time when most native Estonians had been reduced to
serfdom by the German occupants. In the relative calm of the small church, we
stood to admire the artwork lining the dark wood panels of the galleries and the
altar triptych decorated with intricately carved statuettes (Photo 18 - Gothic interior of 16th century Holy Ghost Church).
Pikk tänav (Long St) was the medieval city's
main thoroughfare connecting the centre of military and ecclesiastical power on
Toompea Hill with the port, crossing through the central mercantile district.
Along this street, some of Tallinn's most important secular buildings from the
Hanseatic period survive, including the city's trade guilds which united the
German-speaking mercantile elite into a cabal which controlled Tallinn's
commerce. A little further along at the corner of Pühavaimu and Vene, Tallinn
City Museum housed in a grandiose restored merchant's house describes life
in the medieval city, with good English language texts. On the top floors, more
chilling displays revealed the cynical sycophancy of the post-war
Stalinist years in the Estonian Soviet Republic ('under Stalin's Sun') with an
English-language booklet translating the posters and quotations from
survivors of the horrors of this period of Soviet occupation. In a final
room, the emergence of the independence movement of the late 1980s
was described, with displays of everyday articles including the notorious
food coupons which served as currency, and a TV monitor playing newsreel footage
of the events of 1989~90 leading up to re-assertion of Estonia's independence.
Restaurants in Tallinn's Old Town exploit the captive tourist market to charge
simply silly prices; it was refreshing therefore to find a straightforward pub
which, despite its prime location in Pikk tänav, managed
to remain uncontaminated by tourists, served sensibly priced food and beer, and was
popular with locals. The Hell Hunt pub at Pikk 39 (meaning Gentle Wolf)
is thoroughly recommended as one of the few paces for lunch in central
Tallinn where you won't be ripped off.
unnerving experience with those ascending and descending having to pass on the steep and narrow stone spiral
staircase aided only by a rope handrail. The narrow viewing platform around the
tower's 4 sides was even more nerve-wracking, but gave unparalleled panoramic
views over the old town down to the harbour where the cruise ships were moored
and across to Tallinn Castle and Cathedrals on Toompea Hill (Photo
19 - Toompea Hill with Cathedrals and Castle from St Olaf's Church).
Back down at street level along Pikk, the former HQ of the Tallinn KGB would
have been an attractive Art Nouveau building but for its spine-chilling
associations. The windows along its basement level were bricked up to prevent
the sounds of interrogations being heard by passers-by. A plaque recalls the
building's grisly history, said with black humour to have the finest views in
Estonia: from here you could see all the way to Siberia!
At the far end of Pikk beyond 3 gabled former
merchant houses known as the 3 Sisters, the medieval town's Great Sea Gate led
to the port, the arched gateway flanked by 2 sturdy towers. Beyond here, the Old
Town's cobbled streets gave way to the busy traffic of the modern city.
Following the course of the intact sections of medieval city walls and line of
towers (Photo 20 - Tallinn medieval city walls and St Olaf's Church), we reached a
restored section where you could walk along a wooden balcony and climb the
towers. By this time of the afternoon, most of the tourists had returned to
their cruise ships leaving this most attractive part of the surviving medieval
remains in peace. But returning to Town Hall Square, this was still filled with
stalls selling tourist ephemera at rip-off prices. The elegant 15th century town
hall with its slender spire topped by the legendary Old Thomas weather vane was
still in shade, but across the far corner of the square the sun lit the medieval
building of the Town Council Pharmacy, still a practicing chemist shop with a
small pharmacy museum on
one side (Photo 21
- Medieval buildings surrounding
Tallinn's Town Hall Square). We made our way back to the bus station for the bus back out to Harbour Camping at
Pirita, and that evening, the sun set across the waters of the yacht harbour
with the distant spires of Tallinn Old Town silhouetted against the crimson sky (Photo 22 - Sunset over Tallinn harbour
viewed from Pirita Harbour Camping). Our first day in Tallinn had showed that while the charming old medieval town had so miraculously survived
WW2 bombing and Stalinist destruction, today it was in danger of being
overwhelmed by 2 contemporary evils - mass tourism and rip-off price inflation
fuelled by sheer greed. While Rīga and Vilnius lacked the medieval charm
of Tallinn, it had been a far more pleasant experience ambling around their old
streets unpressured by the moronic press of cruise ship mass tourism which now
so befouled Tallinn.
The
highlight of our 2nd day in Tallinn was to be a visit to the Estonian
Parliament, the Riigikogu, arranged by email in advance. Having again travelled
into the city by bus, we fought our way through the swarming tourist hoards, and up
the steps leading to Toompea Hill
(Photo 23 - Steps
leading up to Toompea Hill)
to Toompea
Castle with its Baroque shocking-pink façade, now home to
the Riigikogu
(Photo 24 - Toompea Castle, home of the
Estonian Parliament (Riigikogu)).
The castle had been the seat of power of all the successive foreign occupants of
Tallinn since the Danish King Valdemar II had originally made it his base
to 'Christianise' the Estonians - note the benevolent sounding euphemisms used
by all conquerors; in their turn, the Soviets had termed their 1944 destructive
conquest 'liberation'. The current castle with its residual medieval towers was
given an 18th century makeover, and subsequently adapted as the seat of
Parliament under the first Estonian Republic in 1922. The interior design which
still characterises the Riigikogu incorporated many features of Expressionism, a
style evolved from art deco.
its Expressionist design (Photo 25 - Plenary chamber of the
Estonian Parliament (Riigikogu)).
The unicameral Riigikogu has 101 members and each parliament has a 4 year term.
Following elections, the members elect the President of the Riigikogu (the
Speaker); they also elect the Republic's President and in fact presidential elections were to be held at the end of August. The current
President, Toomas Hendrick Ilves, was standing for re-election, with one other
candidate whose candidacy was based on presidential elections no longer being
the sole prerogative of parliament but open to popular election. We went on to
discuss the seemingly intractable social and political issue of Estonia's
disenfranchised Russian-speakers who still make up 30% of the population,
400,000 out of 1.34 million concentrated in the industrial cities, and show no
inclination towards integration. We had again enjoyed a privileged opportunity
not only to visit the Estonian Parliament but also for frank and informed
discussions about the issue of the residual Russian-speaking population.
We
walked around into the gardens of Toompea Castle to see the 14th century tower
of Pikk Hermann, where the Estonian national flag has proudly flown every day
since the re-establishment of the country's independence in 1991 (Photo 26 -
Pikk Hermann Tower flying the Estonian national flag at Toompea Castle).
Facing the Castle across Lossi plats (Castle square) the Russian Orthodox
Cathedral of Alexander Nevsky stands, built in 1900 as a reminder to the
Estonians of their subservience to the Russian Tsarist régime, and now a gaudy
and incongruous onion-domed intrusion on Toompea Hill (Photo 27 - Alexander
Nevsky Russian Orthodox Cathedral on Toompea Hill). Still a practising
Orthodox church for Tallinn's sizeable Russian-speaking population, the church
is ironically also a major tourist attraction. The day we were there, a funeral
was being held, regrettably under the gawping gaze of 100s of tourists
disrespectfully showing total disregard for the
family whose relative was being
mourned. Toompea's narrow cobbled streets led to Tallinn's Lutheran Cathedral of
St Mary the Virgin whose walls were lined with the coats of arms of the Germanic
ruling families who once occupied Toompea Hill (Photo 28 - Lutheran
Cathedral at Toompea Hill). Around
on the northern side of Toompea Hill, viewing terraces gave magnificent views
across the Old Town rooftops spread out below with its distinctive array of
spires and the medieval town walls and towers stretching around towards St
Olaf's Church whose slender spire overtopped the rest of the city (Photo 29 -
View over Tallinn Old Town
with city towers and St Olaf's Church).
Nearby a grandiose mansion which now formed the official offices of the Estonian
government had an In Memoriam wall plaque which listed former Prime Ministers
and members of government imprisoned, deported or executed by the post-war
communist régime (see left).
Germans 1941~44, then the brutally repressive Soviet occupation
until 1991. Artefacts and memorabilia, including surveillance equipment were
almost secondary to the series of TV monitors playing newsreel footage
with commentaries in English covering the dreadful events of the years of
occupation, and finally the struggle to regain freedom and independence. One of
the chillingly paradoxical dilemmas faced by Estonians during the periods of
occupation was having to chose between supporting the Germans or Soviets; it was
one or the other with no alternative course for survival. Hence, after the
experience of the first communist occupation, many chose to support the Germans as liberators from Soviet occupation, only to discover that they also were
vicious occupiers. The museum's message is a far from comfortable one but an
important part of understanding just how much the Estonian people have achieved
in the 20 years since freeing themselves from the shackles of communism.
singers.
It was here that in 1988 300,000 Estonians gathered
in a mass demonstration demanding
independence from the USSR, openly singing
patriotic songs in defiance of the Soviets at
what became known as the start of the Singing Revolution. We walked down to the
fringe of trees at the top of the arena's slope which even when deserted aroused
feelings of emotion as the symbol of Estonian national pride. A large statue of
Gustav Ernesaks (1908~93), the Estonian choir leader, composer and inspirational
father figures of the Estonian Song Festival tradition, sat modestly on the
grass looking down towards the stage, seemed to capture this feeling of pride (Photo
30 -
Tallinn Song Festival Grounds
with statue of Gustav Ernesaks);
one of his songs, a setting of Lydia Koidula's
nationalistic poem Mu isamaa on minu arm (Land of my fathers, land that I love), became
an unofficial national anthem during the years of Soviet occupation, and will
feature as background music to our next edition.
We joined Route 1 heading east from Tallinn's
suburbs, passing railway sidings full of oil-tank wagons and a large electricity
generating station, with the road-sign indicating 170kms to the Russian
border at Narva and 310kms to St Petersburg. Traffic was surprisingly light,
frequent signs warned of the hazards of elks leaping from the surrounding pine
woods, and the recently re-surfaced dual-carriageway enabled good progress
for the 70km drive to the turning at Viitna for the Lahemaa National Park. The
Lahemaa National Park Visitor Centre supplied detailed maps and walking route
information sheets, and showed a useful film on the area's fauna, flora and
geology. Lahemaa's (meaning Land of Bays) most distinctive feature are
the 4 evenly spaced peninsulas projecting into the Baltic creating the 3 bays
which give Lahemaa its name. The post-glacial coastal plane is divided from the
inland limestone plateau by
the escarpment of the North Estonian Glint which
runs west~east through the National Park, so smoothed by vegetation and forest
as to appear generally a gentle slope rather than a cliff. A more conspicuous
feature is the profusion of erratic boulders deposited across the Lahemaa
landscape by retreating glaciers 12,000 years ago, having been carried
down from Scandinavia in earlier aeons as the ice had advanced southwards. After
WW2, this coastline area was declared a high security border-zone by the
Soviets, needing special permits to enter, which ironically helped to conserve
the natural landscape. The Soviet military authorities however remained
suspicious of environmentalists which made it all the more surprising that they
sanctioned the creation of Lahemaa National Park in 1971, the first in the USSR.
Permits were still required to enter the park and foreign nationals were only
admitted after 1986; nowadays, being so close to Tallinn, it is one of the
country's most popular visitor destinations.
Our first day in Lahemaa National Park was spent
around the Pärispea peninsula where just beyond the quiet village of Turbuneeme we paused at a classic length of reed-fringed Lahemaa shoreline of
Eru Bay (see above). The next village, Viinistu had once been base of a large
fishing fleet until the fishing industry went into decline; a sign of the times,
the former fish processing factory now houses an art gallery. Across the width of
the peninsula, we turned off at Pärispea along a single-track lane around to
Purekkari Point, the northernmost tip of the Estonian mainland. The area had been a heavily fortified border zone in the Soviet period and the headland had
been site of a large radar installation with remains of derelict barrack blocks
and concrete military
installations now scattered among the woods. We walked out to the boulder strewn sand-spit
which tapered out into the still waters of the Baltic (Photo 31 - Purekkari Point in Lahemaa
National Park, Estonia's northernmost tip).
Over on the western side of the peninsula, the afternoon sun sparkled on the
waters of Hara Bay, the deep waters of which had once been location of a
Soviet
submarine base. The nearby town of Loksa, centre of local ship-building, was
still like so many Estonian industrial towns a predominantly Russian-speaking
place as we found out in the supermarket. After a forest walk to find one of the
larger specimens of erratic boulders some 12m high, we drove across to Muuksi
where the lane made a gentle ascent of the North Estonian Glint escarpment to a
point where a path led to the plateau
top and the wooded cliff of the Glint fell
sheer to the coastal plain below.
brought the village's importance to
an end, but it remains a pleasant holiday village attracting summer visitors.
The concentration of erratic boulders began even along the village street where
every little cottage had a boulder in its front garden. A footpath led from the village
through pine woods out to the tip of Käsmu peninsula where a chain of
larger erratics, Vana-Jüri kivid, stretched away northwards to the off-shore
island of Kuradisaare (see above). We walked along the boulder-strewn
reed-fringed gritty shoreline with the still Baltic sea this morning blue under
a clear
sunny sky. The path turned inland with shafts of sunlight
cutting down through
the tall pine trees of the Käsmu Stone Plantation and the dense forest floor
covered with moss-covered erratic boulders (see left). We passed one pink
mottled crystalline granite boulder whose obvious igneous appearance betrayed
its alien erratic origins in Scandinavia, deposited here on the limestone
bedrock by retreating glaciers. The forest floor was also dotted with endless
varieties of fungi, some with red-spotted caps, others woody-looking; if
only we had had the knowledge and experience to distinguish edible from
poisonous, there was a feast of woodland produce to be picked here. The path
turned westwards through this delightful woodland, leading to the enormous
erratic boulder of Matsikivi (Photo 32 - Matsikivi erratic boulder at
Käsmu Stone Plantation ).
