Swiss Family Grass

The short drive to Tallinn presented us with the opportunity to tour all three campgrounds located within the city. This is a luxury, as we are often left with just one choice. In this case, having one choice would probably have been a better option, as the pickings were slim. Our first stop guaranteed us a ‘parking space’ in a lot about two miles from city center. The second stop was near a local landmark, the TV Tower and left a lot to be desired. The restroom facilities looked worse than what I’d expect at a flop house. We only found one camper at that campground, and there’s some debate as to whether the person was an actual ‘camper’. The third option was located at the marina. Sounded promising at first, but turned out to be another parking lot. To make matters worse, the restroom facilities were located in a building far from the lot, and to get to the showers the security guard needed to draw me a map. Our conversation went something like this:

“Now to get to the showers, you’ll need to go here to this building, take the stairs to the second floor, then go left, go down the hall, make a right, then go left again, then you’ll see a door, then you’ll go…” Needless to say, I zoned out after about the third turn direction, and through the entire mapping exercise I was trying to avoid the disturbing smell coming from the man’s mouth. Next he moved on to plotting out a course for me to get to the bathrooms. I politely listened, holding my breath and trying not let any of the exhale he left hanging in the air get into my nostrils. When he started showing me on the map how to get to the chemical toilet, I had to draw the line. I thanked him for his time and told him that we were going to ‘look around’ a bit. I walked to the car and told Andy to, “Get in, we’re going to the first parking lot.” We drove back to the first stop, happy that we had indulged our curiosity and checked out all of the accommodation possibilities.

With four days until our ferry to Helsinki, Finland, we were certain that we would be able to tour Tallinn from end to end. And, that is just what we did. Tallinn proved to be one of the few stops during our travels that have so intrigued us that we visited day after day, without a break.
The city of Tallinn is charming and attractive. A true medieval town, Tallinn comes complete with cobblestone streets, authentic fifteenth and sixteenth century buildings, and restaurant hawkers dressed in traditional period costumes. Yet, the streets leading away from the touristy main square, while still medieval in style, weave through a modern, more hip city.

During our first day of exploring we rode our bicycles to Upper Town and visited the Russian Orthodox Church Alexander Nevsky Cathedral. Built directly opposite Tallinn’s parliament building, the cathedral is a prominent example of the Russification that occurred during the last years of the nineteenth century.

From the cathedral we passed through the Danish King’s Courtyard to the Old Town Wall. A total of nine tower walls remain, with three towers still connected by a covered walkway atop the wall. We climbed the winding staircase and worked our way up to each tower, dank air guiding our way. The towers were filled with the smell one expects a seven hundred year old structure to have, and when we reached the final tower our ascent was halted by a pigeon dive bombing Andy’s head. I’ve never seen Andy run so fast! He came flying down the stairs nearly as quickly as the pigeon, and the flailing arms and head shaking alerted me that our tour of the towers had come to an abrupt close.
We laughed in unison when we reached the street, mine a comedic laugh as I replayed the events and Andy’s a laugh riddled with nervous fear as he scanned the sidewalk for any other renegade pigeons.

On our way back to the campground we stopped at a grocery store to stock up and were surprised at the lack of selection. Shelves were nearly empty and the produce section looked like the final resting grounds for bruised fruit and battered vegetables. Meat and dairy cases were empty and not one baked good to be found. It was only after inquiring with a clerk that we found out the store was in the process of remodeling. For a moment, I thought we had stepped into an old news reel illustrating the plight of the Russian shopper. We settled on a box of milk, a few nectarines, and a bag of chips to hold us over until the next day.

The following day we rode back into the city and visited the Town Hall, a striking building with bell tower erected between 1371 and 1404. I gladly paid the small fee required to climb the tower, making it to the top in record time. A feat I would pay for later, as I spent two days walking like a cowboy who has just spent a week roaming the range on horseback.

In lieu of our recent fruitless outing to the grocery store, we decided to eat out that evening. Tour books and an endless flow of tourists hovering around Old Hansa were the deciding factors in our choice of eating establishment. We had read in our guide book not to be detoured by the slightly campy nature of Old Hansa; waiters and waitresses dressed in medieval garb, candlelit rooms, goblets for beverages the size of pitchers, and restrooms with a true ‘throne’ to seat ones bottom upon.

Instead, we were delighted to find that the gluttonous feast we were served was researched thoroughly and served up a generous portion of real medieval time dining. Our waiter thoughtfully offered to describe each item that lined our plates, and we listened earnestly as he went into great detail about the exotic looking food. The foreign and at the same time tasty results were surprisingly welcome. It was a dining experience known to the nobleman of medieval Tallinn and the traditionally Hanseatic influenced décor and surroundings made you feel as if you had just stepped into an episode of the television show Fantasy Island.

On our third day in Tallinn we decided to drive out of town to Paldiski. Originally a maritime stronghold established by Peter the Great, Paldiski true claim to fame came in 1939 when the town was handed over to the Russians, with town citizens being relocated in the process. Paldiski served as a Russian military base until 1994 and was considered a “closed town”. Surrounded by barbed wire, the town concealed nine Russian military units, ballistic rockets and nuclear warheads, and submarines. A building known as the ‘Soviet Pentagon’ served as a nuclear submarine training center and more than 16,000 soldiers called Paldiski home. The town was off limits to Estonians.

Driving through Paldiski gives one an strange feeling of entering a battleground after the war has been fought. Massive structures lie crumbling along the roadside and barracks appear bombed out. Bunkers loom ominously along the limestone cliffs, and the rare sight of a person strolling is the only indication that life still remains in this tiny town. Apparently two-thirds of the town’s inhabitants are Russian and for their part they occupy a ghost like center of town where decrepit concrete ‘project like’ housing is the only inhabitable shelter. Solemn faces guard those you see on the street and small child with scuffed knees playing what looked like a game of cowboys and Indians by himself was the only evidence that a youth population existed in Paldiski. Our tour was a morbid reminder of how life can be quite literally sucked from the soul of a people in an oppressive society.

Our final day in Tallinn started out rather uneventfully; that is until we realized that one of our bikes had been stolen. We waited three hours for the police to arrive to take a report, and during that time we contemplated whether to purchase a new bike or not. After weighing the pros and cons we decided that while an unexpected and costly expense, working with just one bike wasn’t going to cut it. Andy took a bus to a nearby bike shop while I continued to wait for the police.

I have to say, I think I took this particular stroke of bad luck in stride. Normally, I would obsess on why it had happened to us and what we could have done to prevent the thieves from targeting us. But, this time I was more pragmatic. What would we need to do to fix the problem? Thinking that way saved a lot of time and aggravation, and by noon we were both headed back into town on bikes for our last day of sightseeing. Andy in particular seemed quite content, as he had chosen a more practical touring bicycle this time around, leaving the hard pedaling to the people like me who had been convinced that mountain bikes with their smaller tires and weighty frame were the way to go.

On our final day in Tallinn we got lost on streets we’d rode before, seeing things we’d missed the first time around. We visited the City Museum and learned about the history of Tallinn through artfully crafted exhibits. Later, we stopped at Café Chocolaterie for mochas made with Estonian Kalev chocolate and shared a fresh berry tart. We rode past the Town Council Pharmacy, one of the world’s oldest continuous running pharmacies, serving as an apothecary since at least 1422. We stopped at a trendy bar for what was billed as Tallinn’s best Mojito and were pleasantly surprised with the result. We biked by the US Embassy, an unwelcoming building modified to include a bullet proof security checkpoint hastily attached to the original façade and warning passersby not to try to take any photographs. We left the Old Town and rode to Kadriorg Park, home to the Royal Palace and the recently opened Kumu Museum.

On Thursday’s the Kumu is open late and we wandered the visually stimulating seven floor building with energy, curious as to what lay behind each corner. The outside of the building is itself a piece of art, and we lingered after closing to watch clouds colored with the setting sun reflected in museum windows.

And we closed the day with an amazing sunset, looking across the Gulf of Finland tour our next stop, Helsinki.

If only the day had ended there. Instead, we returned to the campground to find that our new neighbors, a group of four twenty-something teachers from the Netherlands had their car broken into near the port after arriving from Helsinki the night before and had been robbed of their passports, clothing, and anything else the robbers could get their hands on. But, these men had youth and optimism on their side, and seemingly unfazed about the events of the prior evening they spent into the wee hours of the morning talking with us about the environment and world politics. It was refreshing to see young people driven by curiosity and seeking out knowledge about foreign lands, questioning any and all authority that might be about to sell them a bill of goods. Their outlook and perspective gives hope to jaded old souls such as me and lets me sleep a little easier at night, even if it is with one eye open, worried about waking to find yet another item of ours ripped off. But I must say, no theft incurred in Tallinn could have tarnished my image of the city. Tallinn is the jewel in the crown of Eastern Europe.

Early the next morning we boarded a Viking Line ship bound for Helsinki. The short three and a half hour journey provided just the time needed to start and finish the book Nickel and Dimed in America, a haunting non fiction book documenting the real life trials and tribulations of the author as she goes undercover in America’s minimum wage working world. While the book doesn’t make you feel, “Oh, the horror of living on minimum wage”, it does provide an insightful and at times thought provoking look at our system. The author puts forward heartfelt analysis of how people are ‘getting by’ in America and her study makes you wonder how the richest country in the world stands by and allows it’s working poor to be the constant victim of a capitalistic society; through a nearly non-existent medical care program to low income housing options that would stretch the pocketbooks of anyone lucky enough to be considered part of the working middle class.

Andy and I began to discuss the book (he had read it earlier during our trip) and our lively discussion came to a close only when the rocky coastline of fast approaching Helsinki harbor averted our attention. Tiny islands came into view and the similarity to the coastline of Maine is uncanny.

Charming red and yellow wood paneled houses rest on small rock islands, with only the sea’s pounding waves to remind us of their impermanence. Each little island viewed from the deck of the ferry liner offers a glimpse into how the Finnish live, and it isn’t until Helsinki comes into view that the pulse of Finland’s capital can be felt. The imposing Tuomiokirkko Cathedral that occupies Senate Square is a beacon for all ships entering the harbor.

Once dockside, the buzz of the local market can be felt and those disembarking often head right for Kauppatori, the bustling open air market a stone’s throw from where the ferries moor. For the patient and those willing not to let the smells of freshly grilled salmon tempt them, a short distance away the Kauppahalli market hall provides an nineteenth century setting for top-notch eateries.

We spent two days exploring Helsinki. This Scandinavian capital city is a pleasant place to get lost, with all the trappings of a big city elegantly laid out in a waterfront town. The Finnish are renowned designers of functional house wares and stops at the Helsinki Design Museum, the Design Forum, and iittala shops showcased goods that combat ‘throwawayism’. Decadence is left to the grandeur of the Esplanadi, with its tree lined parks dripping with late nineteenth century touches such as ornate fountains and classic trellised gazebos.

Deeper in the city, the grittiness of the urban center is felt with busy streets and a hurried pace. A dizzying array of shopping centers is only broken up by the occasional café or McDonalds (I stopped counting at five). Papers blow by in the streets and Helsinki’s down and out mill about in front of the central train station. Heading back toward the waterfront we stopped at the Stockmann Department Store, Europe’s largest department store. We closed the afternoon with a stop at a street side café in the Kaartin-Kaupunki neighborhood, watching well to do Fin’s leisurely amble by on a Sunday afternoon walk.

From Helsinki we drove to Turku, the former capital of Finland. Turku is situated along the Aura River, and developers maximized the riverfront by lining both sides with promenade like paths.

Turku feels old, but not in the normal sense. Instead of the usual medieval centers with cobblestone streets and crumbling castles, Turku feels rough around the edges, like a city that stopped growing in the 1960’s. Downtown is filled with streets arranged in grid form, with nondescript utilitarian buildings housing maze like shopping centers. The people are a mixture of youthful business types and tattered street people. Turku is a city where the energy is low, almost down to a dull hum; as if once stripped of its’ capital status (it lost the title to Helsinki in 1812) it never recovered from losing the honor.

With tourist guide in hand we wandered the riverfront, an admired the marine vessels that were tethered to the docks. Turku boasts the only remaining three mast wooden boat in the world, and that boat along with military ships and fishing rigs dot the river.

From the river we walked to the Market Square, a somewhat dreary open air market, with stalls weather worn and scattered in no particular order. Kauppahalli on the other hand is a Market Hall housed in a striking hundred year old brick building. Situated just one block from Market Square, Market Hall leaves a lasting impression, with fine woodworked stalls and eye catching displays of fish.

With less than perfect weather afoot, we decided to venture indoors. We visited the Turku Art Museum and viewed an exhibit of art by Alphonse Mucha. A master of Art Nouveau, Mucha’s works are theatrical and sumptuous. His study of the female form and face so complex that it captures detail even a photograph couldn’t provide. We were mesmerized by his work and felt lucky to have caught such an extensive collection housed in one museum.

From the museum we walked to the Tourist Office to find out if there were any local cinemas nearby, an ideal shelter from the ever worsening weather. With three within walking distance, we decided to catch a movie.

Back at the campsite was when I was struck by a rather simple realization; Turku isn’t a place you visit for big city life. Instead, Southwest Finland and the city of Turku is a gateway to the Turku Archipelago, with some 20,000 islands to visit. We are told that Finland is the land of islands, saunas, and the catch of the day. Life on the islands is slow paced and outdoor recreation fills the visitor’s time. Getting outdoors in the land of the midnight sun is the order of the day, and the Finnish take full advantage of the beautifully carved terrain. Lush green tree filled paths end to reveal stunning rocky coastline that beckons the adventurous in for a swim or a sail.

Unfortunately for us, the weather did not bring with it the desire to plunge into the chilly waters, and rain kept us van bound for most of our meals. One meal in particular always seems to get Petey’s begging mode going, and for this particular bacon and egg filled morning he stood at begging attention through the entire meal.

The drive back to Helsinki to catch a ferry to Stockholm, Sweden was filled with views of Finnish farmland and deep red hued barns. We saw many tractors cutting through knee high wheat and even saw one farmer trudging through the field in a horse drawn cart, freshly cut honey colored fields spraying out from behind. It was a lazy country drive, and had we not been on a perfectly paved highway, I would have thought I had stepped back into the 1950’s.

Back in Helsinki the city swelled with tourists making a mad dash to pick up last minute souvenirs before boarding one of the many ferry boats and cruise ships that line the harbor. We skirted all of the hustle and bustle by queuing up early for our ferry. We were first in line, and once on ship we left the confines of our little campervan for the cruise ship like atmosphere onboard. For the amazingly low price of 114 Euro we were able to book passage for two adults, one dog, and one campervan. And, the price included a cabin onboard. We couldn’t have come close to matching that price with the gas we would have required to drive to Sweden. So for one evening, we had all the luxuries of a cruise ship at our disposal. We even participated in and won a trivia contest at the pub onboard. Our prize was two drink coupons and a box of chocolates. Somehow the 114 Euro price just kept getting better and better.

The next morning as we pulled into Stockholm we instantly became entranced by the city. Built on fourteen islands, Stockholm is considered by many to be Scandinavia’s most beautiful capital.

One could easily spend a week or two exploring Sweden’s capital, and the overwhelming number of sights and museums warrants such a lengthy stopover. Some areas of Stockholm have all the commotion of the lively streets of New York City, while others have been painstakingly kept to look as they did in the romantic early 1900’s. The green belts that link Stockholm’s neighborhoods almost all follow the water, and a bike or walk through Stockholm is sure to arouse the senses with extraordinary landscapes unfolding right before your eyes.

Our first day of sightseeing was cut short as we got caught in a torrential downpour that left us soaked through to the bone and pedaling as quickly as possible back to the campground. The next day we ventured out again, taking time to really look at the city. We biked to the Stadshuset, an imposing town hall, built with more than eight million bricks. Inside, the Blue Room is where the Nobel Prize ceremonies are held each year. From this waterside icon we continued on to the more urban area of Norrmalm, a section of the city that feels oddly similar to Manhattan. Heading back toward the water again, we visited the Old Town, Gamla Stan. Cobblestone streets are lined with seventeenth and eighteenth century Renaissance buildings, and the shops and restaurants are touristy.

Day two brought a visit to the Vasa Museum. Housed within the museum walls is a nearly four hundred year old warship that sunk in Stockholm harbor on its’ maiden voyage in 1628.

The Vasa warship was raised almost completely intact in 1961, having been preserved by the harbor’s muddy bottom. The massive ship and its’ contents are on display in the museum and viewing decks provide a birds eye view into the ship. The museum provides a fascinating glimpse of seafaring life in the 1600’s and the exhibits address every question that pops into your head while you gaze at the daunting Vasa.

After the Vasa Museum we rode our bikes to the Nobel Museum, eager to learn what men and women have won the much sought after prize. Surprisingly, the Nobel Museum wasn’t what I expected; a rather simple museum, with a small display on the man himself, Alfred Nobel, and a few plain cabinets displaying belongings from prize recipients. Two rooms show films on a loop that are meant to give you insight into a Nobel prize winner’s mind, but instead leave you itching to get out of the theater due to the low budget production. I’d like to say that the museum simply lacked in luster what the Vasa had, but it really just didn’t cut it, more a lobby exhibit than a museum.

We ended our tour of Stockholm with a visit to the Royal Palace of Drottningholm. Located on Lovon Island, the palace and grounds are a spectacular retreat from the vast expanse that is Stockholm. Absolutely stunning scenery is interrupted only by breathtaking buildings. The Chinese Pavilion, a gift from King Adolf Fredrik to his queen is listed as a UNESCO site, and it was here that the court enjoyed country life. Others that can be found on the grounds include a lavishly decorated guards tent and hand painted Court Theatre. The stop was a perfect close to Stockholm, a royal city that never fails to astound.

Next we are off to Oslo, Norway, land of the Viking.