I have been told on many occassions that I look German. I guess they were right, boarding my German airline full of Germans bound for Germany, everyone spoke to me as if I understood a single word escaping their mouths. It felt good to not be obviously ´out of place´ and assumed to be one of them. So for the most part I played along with a laugh here or a nod or ´jah jah´ there, however once in Germany I had to give up my identity as there was just no understanding what was being said to me.
The flight up was interesting as the anxiety in the air was palpable. Of those I imagined to be nervous of flying, the home of precision engineering Germans would not have been near the top of the list. However, after what I thought was an uneventful flight and similar landing - with only a slight hiccup causing audible gasps - the passengers broke out in sporadic applause as we slowed to a safe runway speed.
I knew I was back in Western Europe when my accommodation changed from the large private bungalows for $5 in Asia, to 12 bed dorms with shared bathroom for $40. But stepping out into Frankfurt I couldn´t help but smile. I love Europe. I can´t think of a better word for it, but I love its quaintness (especially in Germany). The cleanliness, orderliness, architecture and people - it´s another quaint world where you might expect to see friendly dwarves riding large tricycles down the narrow rounded streets as jolly girls skipped past with red cheeks and giant lollipops.. or maybe that´s just me. Walking to the Airport Shuttle I realised as I passed a taxi rank, this was the first time in nearly 6 months I could walk past a taxi without being accosted. Ahhh, how refreshing.
The mood quickly changed however. As many people who know me well will testify, I´m not great with tickets. Rather than checking them I often like to assume I know what they say. This has caused a few minor problems in the past, such as missing a day at the Olympics and an Australian Open final etc. This time it would cost me a flight. On the bus on the way to the airport I could feel there was a problem (a feeling that would´ve been handy 2 hours earlier) so I double-checked my ticket... I was 2 hours late!!
However, if my bus driver was a maniac I might just make check-in 40 min before my flight - the stated closing time. I was in luck, my driver was swift, cunning and all of a sudden my hero as I eyed the bus clock like a hawk. I arrived 41 min before my flight and ran to the check-in. I was sure I would have no problem - a bit of charm and Bob´s your Uncle. Unfortunately, I found the check-in people fighting with other also late passengers - and true to German reputation for rigidity and lack of any human compassion (I wrote this at the airport - still a bit peeved) they refused us entry. This coming just after the day before confiscating my deoderant, shaving cream and toothpaste for being a security risk. To say nothing else, they are at least consistent - my previous dealings with German border staff have all been eye-stabbingly painful.
However, being at the ´Ryan Air´airport - home of discount fares - I wrote off the cost of the flight and scanned for others that night. The cheapest was a 1hr flight to a place no-one knows - it cost about $400. Refusing to admit defeat and drive the 2hrs back to Frankfurt, I chose Stockholm as my next destination and paid an amount I will not even disclose. It was after I paid that I realised it arrived in the middle of the night, 2 hours outside the city, and I had no idea where I was going.
Wow.... enter Sweden. I usually don´t pay much credence to rumour and reputation - they´re often started and perpetuated by people with big mouths and little character, but the Swedish female population have certainly earned their reputation for being stunning. It may just be that I had arrived at 1am on a Friday night, but as I was walking around laden with bags looking for a place to stay, I was in awe of how beautiful all the women were that I passed.
Stockholm is a beautiful city - very modern and clean, but still with some grand relics of time gone by. However, unless you are earning some serious Krown, it is a place near impossible to stay very long. One of, if not the most expensive place I´ve ever been in (and that includes London).
Forgetting the cost, I quickly joined a crew at the hostel and hit the town. It's a very classy place to go out - all guest lists and exhorbitant cover charges - great fun though. The next day I headed out with some Hungarians and Brazilians and we checked out a great big recovered boat - the Vasa - that is older than colonised Australia itself. As fun as that was, we found ourselves a beautiful open bar next door where we could sink a few beers and enjoy the sunshine.. this led somehow to jumping in the city fountain...
Finally getting my phone to work over there, I managed to get in touch with Erik who I'd met in Thailand and we caught up for a beer before I left the next day for Estonia.
The boat taking me across the Baltic was fantastic. Many floors with nightclub, piano bar, cabaret, restaurants etc etc. I actually won much of my spent money back on the ships casino too.
Entering my hostel in the Old Town of Tallinn, I run into a couple of Aussies and get re-acquainted with a spanking new Sherrin - fantastic! The old Town in Tallinn is great, with cobblestoned streets and a great assortment of bars (including the Depeche Mode bar I simply had to drink in). Some great nights on the town ensued.
Finding that my Russian visa would take a couple of weeks to come through, I decided on a country tour of Estonia. Not having enough of island hopping already, I head for the closest one - Sarremaa. The first port of call was checking out the town castle there, and upon returning I run into the only other tourist travelling country Estonia, an Aussie. So we find a bar and sit next to some locals - that was it. Within minutes we were doing vodka shots, hours later we were still doing vodka shots, and hours after that I have vague memories of wandering around not knowing where I was.
Next stop was Parnu, a beautiful coastal town on the mainland. A very active place with everyone doing some sort of sport activity - however the mean age of those I came across seemed to be about 16. Nice place to get a sunburn though! After that was a stop at Viljandi. Again a very picturesque place, a highlight being having a dip in the clear lake that is surrounded by greenery and overlooked by the ruins of an ancient castle. These two towns were great, however with little to no english being spoken there, conversations were kept largely to myself... enthralling.
And then I entered Tartu. This is a modern, friendly place where English is more understood.. yay! It also boasts the best bar scene I've come across for a city its size (100k). My love of novelty and themed bars was satisfied. Bars here include The Godfather (a complete dedication to Al Capone), the Tax office (complete with blow ups of Tax statements), a Factory Bar (complete with all the factory fit-outs), the Who Wouldn't Like Johnny Depp bar, the Place Beer Colours bar (with a bubble bar, blinking stair lights, LCD screens for menus and a dedicated beer button on your table), Big Ben (yes English, but also with phones on each table to order or to teleflirt with other tables), and others with weird fit-outs including swings, faux grass, medieval themes, a Gunpowder Vault, Stalin-era cinema house, rubber ducks, Jungle theme, Yellow Submarine theme and of course the more conventional rock and Irish bars.
Had a great time in Tartu and even had the offer of staying and working which was very tempting, but alas, Russia was calling.
One thing that became obvious after travelling around Estonia, is the nations obsession with beach volleyball - very akin to India and their cricket. They fill up every beach and lakeside, and if those aren't available they simply dump a bunch of sand in the town centre and play there.
Estonia will certainly be remembered as one of my top destinations, but for now a strange tingle runs down my spine as I prepare to enter the Iron Curtain on the midnight bus.
