Day 16 - Friday May 5, 2017 - Tallinn

Day trip to Tallinn, across the Gulf of Finland. We were both awake very early (3.30) so no need for the various alarms we had set. We were eventually washed and dressed and ready to go by 5.30 so wandered off in search of a coffee. We hoped there might be somewhere open in the train station and fortunately there was, so coffee and a cinnamon roll before we wandered over to the tram stop. We made sure yesterday afternoon that we knew where the tram stop was and how to buy a ticket so we had no issues this morning. The 6 am # 9 tram turned up on time and we were at the ferry terminal before 6.15. This terminal (Lansiterminaali # 2) is brand new and has only been open since February. We used one of the automated check-in machines then headed up to the waiting area. Boarding started a little before 7 and, as we had signed up for the breakfast buffet, we headed straight there. We were in the first 30 or so people in; no tables for two but (being the social butterflies we are) we managed to find a table that was partially hidden behind a pillar so hoped the “sold out” sign on the door didn’t mean they sold literally every available seat. It wasn’t long before a food frenzy was in progress. The ship left shortly after 7.20 (scheduled for 7.30) and by 7.33 we were done eating. So much for using the breakfast buffet as a means to occupy the two hour crossing.

Seating that doesn’t involve being in the buffet, in a bar, in the video games area, at Burger King etc. etc. seemed to be in short supply but eventually we managed to find some window seating in a lobby area near one of the stairwells, so stayed there for the remainder of the journey.

We’re slowly getting used to the ‘culture change’, which was a bit jarring yesterday. Some graffiti, litter, a lot of people smoking in the street, lots of people of rather dubious character or appeal standing around, a rather ‘cold’ approach to the concept of customer service. A very stark contrast to Japan. On our way out yesterday afternoon for a walk, we stopped by the front desk to check on the availability of late check out on Saturday (the ferry to Stockholm leaves at 5.30); as we walked away from the desk, Anne-Margaret whispered to me “it’s ok, you can stop bowing now”. After two weeks in Japan, the politeness involved in every personal interaction becomes ingrained. Almost every interaction begins and ends with a greeting and a bow. Admittedly, anonymous interactions in Japan are (perhaps disappointingly) not so polite. Everybody may line up on the subway platform but once the train arrives, don’t expect much politeness getting on, get used to people plonking themselves in the seat you had your eye on and don’t expect anybody to offer you their seat – those interactions where everybody is anonymous and there is no personal one-on-one interaction tend to be different, so much so that if you do offer up a seat, wait for somebody else to go through the door first etc., they seem genuinely surprised. We were leaving the Modern Art Museum the other day; Anne-Margaret was slightly ahead of me and as we approached the exit, I was conscious there was a woman a couple of yards behind me. As the automatic door opened for Anne-Margaret, I paused and stepped slightly to one side to let her pass ahead of me. She was obviously taken somewhat aback – but smiled, bowed slightly and said something (I know not what but it sounded pleasant…). Very different in anonymous interactions versus the politeness of personal interactions as soon as any connection is established. Here, we’re back to Western notions of service and personal interaction – some smiling and helpful but some that is unresponsive, monosylabbic and unhelpful.

When the ship docked in Tallinn, they couldn’t get the gangplank to work properly so we were all stood there going nowhere. Eventually even the captain appeared to see what the problem was. They finally managed to come up with a solution and we were let off, by which time it was 10 am. There were lots of taxis outside the terminal but we elected to walk to the old town, as it’s only about a 15 minute walk. We then spent most of the day following a route suggested by the Lonely Planet guide, which got us round without any problems. We generally avoided or didn’t linger in the more ‘touristy’ spots. It was interesting how we would find ourselves in some quiet street, usually more or less on our own and then turn the corner and find ourselves in some ‘tourist’ spot with hordes of people and/or tour groups (‘Green 17’, ‘Green 26’, ‘Purple 16’ and so on, all following their leader). Such organised touring is not for us as we much prefer to find our own way. We stopped along the way a few times for a coffee or a beer but, given the breakfast we’d had, didn’t feel much need for lunch, particularly as we’re signed up for the dinner buffet on the way back. We thoroughly enjoyed our wanderings around the Tallinn old town and it would undoubtedly repay further exploration. However, we’d had sufficient wandering for the day so eventually made our way back to the ferry terminal.

We were early for our ticketed ferry so I went to see if it was possible to get an earlier one. Two young ladies at adjacent booths. Neither looks up as I approach so, after pausing to see whether either might acknowledge my presence and stop staring at whatever they were pretending to be busy with on their screens (they didn’t), I pick one. We very quickly establish that there is a ferry (‘Yes’) and no, we can’t get on it (‘It is closed’). All delivered with no emotion and without the movement of any facial muscle at all (except those directly related to uttering the four words). Whether this was just normal Western style, a holdover from Soviet-era notions of customer service or what, I don’t know but it was again a jarring difference from the kind of personal interaction we had got used to in Japan. I went to the bar to get some drinks and in response to Anne-Margaret’s request for ‘something lemony’, had a useful conversation with the barlady as she helpfully tried to explain the contents of the various bottles and cans she had available. A complete contrast to the experience of a few minutes previous, which helped to restore my good humour.

Come boarding time, the scrum ensues as everyone (me included…) charges forward as if their life depended on it. We find the ‘Delight Buffet’ we were signed up for and got in line (second). A line continues to grow behind us. A group of people then decides to form a second line, at right angles to ours, with their ringleader standing right next to me. That line continues to grow (as obviously newcomers are unclear as to exactly where the line is). Eventually, the doors open and the ringleader (plus cohorts) charges forward, elbowing all and sundry aside and yelling “we have tickets”. Well, so do we mate…. We follow them in. The young lady on the desk makes some effort to check them in but soon they just stream past her, so we just follow. Complete chaos.

This was a different (newer) ship from the one this morning, so we did spot a table for two (which appeared to be the only one) and sat down. Given the tables all had numbers (we were at # 72) and I vaguely recall the website saying something about assigned table numbers, I went back to the check in desk as we didn’t want somebody suddenly turning up demanding our table. The young lady was trying to deal with the scrum in front of her so it seemed churlish to interrupt her. Going back again some minutes later, I managed to get her attention during a momentary lull in the action – “No, just sit anywhere.” At no point did anybody check our ticket so it would have been fairly easy for anyone to just walk in if they took advantage of the chaos.

The feeding frenzy then ensued. Anne-Margaret reported being tutted at for cutting in line; simply one of those situations where someone in line is so slow at getting something onto their plate that the line in front of them dissipates so you simply take advantage of the opening. The price included beer and wine, which I eventually found, dispensed from three beer-like taps. Just help yourself, so we did…. We largely limited ourselves to repeated plates of the appetisers – the smoked salmon was excellent. The only downside to our table was the sun streaming in through the nearby window directly in Anne-Margaret’s face. I eventually realized that was because we’re not posh enough – a rookie mistake to sit on the port side of a ship heading north.

Disembarking was the now-customary scrum. A longish walk down the various hallways and travelators to get down to ground level (from level 8 on the ship), to be greeted by a classic scandi-noir moment. Several policemen standing at the bottom of the ramp; a couple of them off to the side but two of them – both equally enormous, one with a big bushy beard and the other completely bald – standing square at the bottom of the ramp, about 15 feet apart, looking intently at everyone walking down towards them. Nothing to do but walk calmly between them….

We headed to the tram stop but the waiting tram left as we were in the middle of buying our tickets. No matter, another one soon turned up and after a few minutes wait, we were on our way back to the hotel. The final highlight of the day was spotting the statue of Pissing Boy. He wasn’t at the harbour (where we were yesterday afternoon) where he used to be and we recalled reading somewhere that he had been moved but we didn’t know where – well, there he was, a great piece of public art, providing an excellent end to the day.