If Rīga is the chocolate box image of a quaint, historical European city, then Tallinn must surely be the entire box, soft centres and all.
It’s hard to know which superlative to wield first to describe the charm and character of this beautiful old city.
We’re ensconced at the Telegraaf (nothing to do with the awful Dutch newspaper) in the old town, a sleek hotel in a great location. It even has its own parking garage, which we’re making grateful use of.
We arrived at about 13:30, having made mincemeat of the sat-nav’s original estimate of a 14:15 arrival. The 10, 9 and 4 roads (plus the ferry, of course) carried us from Saaremaa to Tallinn in distinctly gloomy weather, but scarcely a drop of rain fell from the skies.
Once we had checked into the hotel, I changed into long trousers and decided I’d need a jacket. This turned out to be a mistake, because no sooner had we walked a few minutes away from the hotel, than the sun came out and set about warming things up. It stayed that way all afternoon, too, once again defying the day’s weather forecast.
Lunch was at Kompressor on Rataskaevu, a crêperie serving up chunky pancakes with fillings such as bacon and smoked cheese, which is exactly what I had. A hearty meal was just what was needed for an afternoon’s sightseeing.
We spent the afternoon wandering around the cobbled streets of the old town. Taking photos actually became tedious. I would’ve been better off putting the camera in continuous shooting mode and hurling the bloody thing through the air, such was the frequency with which we were confronted by beautiful or eye-catching scenes. Bam, bam, bam; one after another I found myself wanting to record what my eyes saw and my memory would soon forget.
Tallinn has the immediate charm of Stockholm’s Gamla Stan, enough backstreet cafés to give Paris a run for its money, the historic grandeur of Prague and the mediaeval atmosphere of Český Krumlov. No wonder so many foreign powers have tried to claim it for themselves.
It also has tourists: great, sauntering bunches of the buggers. Cruise ships line the harbour in the distance and, everywhere you look, tour guides, right arm raised and clutching an umbrella or numbered marker, zigzag across the streets, a pack of video camera wielding Italians, Germans or some other nationality in tow. Even American accents can be heard here.
So far, this is the only place in the Baltics where we’ve seen tourists in the quantities you’d expect to find in the more obvious European city destinations, such as Paris, Rome, and London. Tallinn is clearly no secret. Oh well.
Tallinn’s old town is split into All-Linn, the lower town, and Toompea, the upper town. We’ve seen a good amount of both today, but will explore further tomorrow.
Dinner was at Vanaema Juures, whose name means Grandma’s Place. We had reserved a table at this place earlier in the day and it was a good job, too, because it was completely packed when we arrived; even on a Monday evening.
Vanaema Juures serves up delicious home cooking, just like your grandmother used to make, or would have, if she’d been Estonian and a great chef. I had the wild boar in red wine sauce, which was absolutely phenomenal. Strawberries and ice-cream took care of the need for something sweet afterwards. This was possibly our best meal on the trip to date.
Four nights in Tallinn should be just about right. I’m already glad we’ve increased our stay from three nights, because this town clearly has a lot to offer.