Day Three?








I unfortunately don't know a damn thing about this monastery except that I really liked that no one was stopping us from climbing all over it.

















Tallinn had these really unexpected and really cool coniferous forests out by the beach.




That were apparently also military graveyards. This was the nicest place to spend eternity that I've ever seen.




And after the walk through the forest-graveyard we reached the TV tower/tourist attraction. I gleefully spent way too much (the dollar-euro rate killed me on this trip) on a postcard referencing the tower's antennas that I could mail back to my college antennas teacher.






Can you tell that my shoes have been through three days of walking since the photo on day one? They held together pretty well, but I did have to retire them for the rest of my time abroad and take them in for repair ("Would I like to just buy a new pair? Are you kidding me, sister???") once I got back stateside.










The green and brown land in the lower part of the frame was a botanical garden that we didn't make it to before they closed.

It was about at this point that I ran out of film (yes, again, even though I'd already once found and ventured out to an overpriced camera store in a shopping center) and had to supplement with the camera on my iPod Touch. I don't think there was anything good on there besides a video that I'll post just as soon as I remember how to.

I didn't realize when I ventured out on our first day in Tallinn that I was going to want five rolls of film for just the prison itself. I don't remember how many I had but it was definitely not enough. After my film ran out I resorted to the only other thing I had on hand, my iPod touch, which became its own game of trying to photograph and simultaneously preserve the battery to the end of the day. I guess digital's not immune from the "oh shit, didn't bring enough film (battery, memory) with me" sort of problem.






The inside of the prison was confusing and a little chaotic in an empty, spooky way. I almost immediately lost track of the route we were taking and our location relative to the outside grounds.




















Our tour guide was a bit of an asshole, and would say odd things like, "Why are you all following me again? It's so weird, every time I do this, all the people just follow me."

Poor lass. He really just needed someone who was on-their-feet enough to be like, "Because you're the tourguide, asshole. What did you think was going to happen?" Over the course of the tour I developed a bit of a soft spot for him. Next time I would totally call him out on his shit.




He also talked repeatedly about how we shouldn't wander off or walk into the cells because we might get lost and the locks still worked and the walls were thick so no one would be able to hear us scream.




We found out later that he had some kind of tech support or programming position or something. My friend remarked that this "explains both why he did the tour like that and why you like him."




I missed most of what the guide said because I was always pushing staying within earshot, trying to photograph as much as I could without losing the group, and nervously glancing behind me before going into any cells, in case the tour guide suddenly showed up to shut me in. But I did catch the tail end of what he said in this room, which was that the mural was done by one of the prisoners.






Scabies earned you isolation.






"You can cut through the courtyard if you like; it's shorter. But that side of the building is falling apart, and I can't guarantee the building won't try to kill you."










Apparently they hold concerts in the prison yards in the summer. Tallinn seems like an awesome place.

The way I remember it we went literally from the Spring Ball to the bus bound for Tallinn, Estonia. But that might've not been the case. It was a little over a year ago so maybe I'm forgetting some details.




Definitely still got eyeliner on from the night before. Just a side note about this guy: What a fucking champ. I met him briefly at second semester orientation at the hotel. My gaydar is pretty off mostly because it's just not a thing I'm thinking about, but he was enough that even I could tell. My immediate thought was, "Dude. Really? Russia?" But I got to know him well later on, and let me tell you that he rocked it. And also led basically directly to me meeting those gay Russians that I did meet. What a bummer all that business is. I hope it gets better over there.




We spent the first few hours after arrival half-sleeping on the hostel's couches until our room opened at 10 or 11 or whenever it was. After dropping things off it was time to hit the town.




My view through most of Tallinn: following the asses of these three through the windy, cobblestoned streets. I was always behind on account of the stopping to photograph...




The seams on my shoes started splitting on day one.




I thought Russia's cities were pretty old because, you know, Europe and stuff. But Tallinn's town square was downright medieval.












One of the recommended activities was a tour of this old Soviet prison, which I'm going to save for its own post.


Day two:







Tallinn felt small and manageable (especially compared to St. Pete) but still interesting in a lot of ways: historical and modern, geographically and culturally intriguing. Being a former Soviet country it has all the baggage associated with that, but is also pulling hard (with success) to distance itself from Russia and other former Soviet countries. A woman at the hostel talked to us casually about the Estonians' dislike of the Russians, and the difficulty of learning the Estonian language (16 cases, while I struggled with Russian's six). She spoke easily in English, but it's not a sure thing. Tallinn (like the Riga airport) was a place where, when I didn't know the country's namesake language, I'd try English first, and Russian if English failed.




I enjoyed this phrasing from Wikipedia: "Tallinn occupies an area of 159.2 km2 (61.5 sq mi) and has a population of 431,184.[2] It is situated on the northern coast of the country, on the shore of the Gulf of Finland, 80 km (50 mi) south of Helsinki, east of Stockholm and west of Saint Petersburg." So I guess it's equidistant between the three then, making it a popular stop for a lot of Russians I talked to, who liked doing a ferry-centric tour of all three cities.






Your faithful narrator and photographer, in the merino sweater + coat + scarf-I-can-no-longer-find combo that got me through so much of my year abroad.
















This dude selling the mint-your-own-coin thing was also totally selling the medieval look thing, what with those Vans and all.








I do believe we closed this evening with wine before heading back to the hostel for probably more alcohol and some card games.