Tales of Tallinn
Trip Start
Jan 24, 2004
1
2
31
Trip End
Apr 01, 2004
Tallinn,
Estonia
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
28th January 2004
The pub downstairs serves great food and draft Guinness - which is surprisingly cheap. Surely then, by my logic, a reason to enjoy it all the more. I take a tram ride to organise an onward bus ticket to St Petersburg, but I find I am on an erroneous tram being whisked through an unfamiliar city in the wrong direction. Returning to my room, I am soon persuaded to venture out again, this time for a sauna and a massage. Relishing the opportunity to be nicely defrosted. It's like being in somebody's house. I am locked inside for about thirty minutes and then presented with a trio of girls wearing fur and prompted to choose which one I want. Sultry dark haired girl accompanies me to the sauna, then to the lounge where fiery drinks are poured over ice as she gives me her telephone number and plenty more. I chuckle to myself as I make my way to the pub, tromping through the heavy snow.
I meet a Norwegian guy in the Brewhouse, a vast open plan brewery with a large menu of beers. Situated in one of the many cobbled lanes that radiate out from the main square. This part of the city is real time-warp material. Ancient buildings with huge sides and tiny windows. Street entertainers playing Lutes. Am I on a movie set for a Henry VIII period piece ? The crisp snow and piercing blue sky add an extra touch of drama. Popular with tourists, the only blot on such a beautiful landscape is a MacDonald's. Funny how I like MacDonald's when it's the cheapest option, but it doesn't belong here .
The Norwegian and I enjoy many flavoursome beers . We move on to the Guitar Safari bar and listen to some live music together. We are thoroughly pie-eyed by the time we leave. Upstairs from my hostel accommodation is a strip club - coincidence ? I go in and meet Natasha. She dances for me, and looks like Cameron Diaz might after ditching the gym and hitting the pub circuit instead. Slightly chunkier.
The following day after another of my characteristic random walkabouts, I meet up with Natasha again, this time by appointment. We go for dinner at a Chinese restaurant. Her English is excellent. An endearing Russian accent. Many like her are ethnic Russian and thus do not qualify for an Estonian passport. Neither does she qualify for a Russian passport, since the divorce between Estonia and the USSR. So she says, and explains how she only has some sort of identity card instead. Not much use for travelling to other countries. She is a dancer by trade, and goes on to explain the distinction between this and a prostitute. I go back to see her later at the club. I have now gravitated from simple club floor to VIP room, where I am treated to private dances by Natasha and company.
Next ; the bus to Saint Petersburg
