Tallinn happened to be about just as cold as Helsinki, which is really no surprise; the city sits roughly 50 miles across the sea from its Scandinavian cousin. But for whatever reason, it felt delightfully tropical. Okay, well that's a lie, but I think the cobbled narrower streets of the city centre did a better job at preserving the little warmth that lingered in the February air.
And first glimpses did not disappoint. From snowy rooftops to onion-domed churches, we were a little bit more than enchanted.
We ended up finding one garlic(!) restaurant, one snood(!), an irish pub and the Estonian answer to the German beer hall. We may have also been the butt of a group of Russian schoolchildren's jokes, but when your body parts are mostly frozen, humiliation doesn't feel like anything.





Before heading on the long (12 minutes in sub-zero temperatures) walk home, we fortified ourselves with larger than big beers. This happened to be the last time we saw Derryn out of bed for the rest of the trip. Which begs the question, what strange power does estonian beer really hold?
So we didn't spend much time in Estonia due to the Helsinki debacle outlined in the last two blog entries. But we managed to rectify a too short stay in Tallinn the next morning by getting very lost on the tram system and doing a delightful loop of outer, outer outer and outer outer outer Tallinn. It wasn't quite the trip to Estonia I'd imagined, but I'm hoping it's not going anywhere any time soon and i can go back.
Just not in February.
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