HD3: Tallinn, Estonia

5.11.12 This morning, my three girls and I pulled ourselves out of bed at around 10AM, got ready for the day and headed out for breakfast. Josh, our disheveled Australian friend, had highly recommended a pancake house called, Krompressor, in Old Town. We found it down a street behind the main square and walked into the empty restaurant—never a good sign. After waiting at the counter for a few minutes, a tall, blonde woman with a surly expression appeared from the back room and said one word, “Closed,” before she glared at us and disappeared. Flabbergasted, we exited the restaurant and noticed that the sign on the door claimed the restaurant opened at 11—in fifteen minutes. Although the pancakes sounded delicious, we decided to spend the next fifteen minutes wondering the nearby restaurants to see if any of them offered a better menu—and better service. Every place, actually, was friendly and welcoming to us but their menus weren’t nearly as attractive, so returned to the pancake house with the surly waitress. And my, oh, my, were those pancakes worth it! I ordered a strawberry pancake with cottage cheese and whipped cream, while Ally and Shelley each ordered apple and vanilla pancakes and Whitney ordered chocolate. Each pancake (which was really more of a thick blini—or super thick crepe) was about the size of my head and had its delicious sweet toppings folded inside. Best pancakes I’ve ever eaten. I also ordered hot chocolate, or kakao, which was half liquid and half whipped chocolate foam; both layers were fantastic. Once our tummies and our (previously sour) moods were warm and happy, we headed out to explore beautiful Vana Tallinn. Vana Tallinn is preserved to look like a medieval city, with old Tudor architecture and cobblestone streets. Vana Tallinn rests at the top of a large hill and is surrounded by an ancient stone wall with ancient stone guard towers and outlooks at all the entrances and corners. With wooden signs for all the stores and the smell of spiced almonds in the air, I felt like I had stepped into a different world. We tried some of the spiced almonds that vendors sold at various corners, ventured inside old cathedrals, perused the street markets, explored chic gift shops, and enjoyed the history of the city before venturing into the “Olde Hansa,” a world-famous restaurant that is fashioned after an old traditional 14th century tavern: the inside was made of stone and wood and the only lighting came from candles on the walls and on the tables. Murals of hunters and game and period life covered the walls and the fireplaces; the waiters and waitresses wore period clothing and all of them had deep Estonian accents; the ambience was surreal, as if we had stepped into a story book. Because it was slightly (though not overwhelmingly) expensive, we each ordered a side dish or appetizer and then shared our food with each other. We ordered boar soup, a meat salad (lettuce, tomatoes, olives, bacon, turkey, and some other kind of meat that could have been anything from poultry to elk or boar), a plate of traditional fried cheeses, and a rose pudding. Everything was unusual but strangely delicious—the rose pudding, made from real rose flavor, was as sweet as eating rose-scented lotion. It was a bizarre experience. Four rose petals decorated the pudding; our waitress explained to us that it is an Estonian superstition or belief that if you make a wish and eat a rose petal (which are edible), your wish will come true. Of course, we all had to take that chance—it was my first time eating a rose petal and it probably won’t be the last. The restrooms at the Olde Hansa were a tourist attraction of their own: the sink was a “teapot” filled with water that hung over a brass basin with a drain; I thought the arrangement was period appropriate and rather intriguing, actually; whoever designed the building thought of everything. I’m so glad we chose to eat lunch here; it was an unbelievably unique experience. After exploring the city a little longer, we hiked up a cobblestone hill to an overlook of the city. It had begun to rain and Vana Tallinn glowed in the darkness like a watercolour painting. We discovered another overlook that viewed modern Tallinn—in the darkness it looked just like any other modern city, so I can’t honestly describe it with the same eloquence as Vana Tallinn. Behind this overlook was an old stone staircase that led to a pathway that lined the base of the ancient wall. Sucking up our courage, we decided to traverse this muddy pathway. To our right, the city wall loomed above us; to our left, a manmade lake glistened in the city lights and two very dedicated football players trained on a nearby well-lit and very wet field. Finally, we found another set of stairs that led us back into the city. As we were wet and cold, we found a little coffee shop (again recommended to us by our Australian friend) and ordered hot cocoa. The coffee shop, according to Josh, was hipster and totally awesome—to me, it was just a white-walled building with an assortment of couches and chairs that resembled the type of couch or chair you would find at either Salvation Army or somebody’s front lawn with a big “FREE” sign on it. The restaurant was clean but cheap in appearance; I obviously wasn’t impressed. The cocoa wasn’t that spectacular either, though it was warm. It became time to meet Carrie, our friend from the International Branch that tagged along with us ILP people, at the Maharaja Indian Cuisine restaurant in the main square. The restaurant had a traditional Indian atmosphere, which we appreciated, and the food was amazing. We ordered naan, a vegetable dish, and a chicken dish with a bowl of rice to share. It wasn’t as tasty as the Taj Mahal in Fort Wayne, Indiana, or as tasty as the dishes I make at home, but it was still a familiar, delicious, satisfying taste. It was fun to get to know Carrie better; she’s such a fun, sweet, hilarious person. She volunteered with ILP in Saint Petersburg over ten years ago, served her mission in Russia, and is now teaching English in Moscow; she speaks nearly fluent Russian and she was a huge help as our translator on the train and in Saint Petersburg. After dinner, with stomachs ready to burst from all the food we’d eaten that day, we headed back to our hostel and crashed for the night. (In retrospect, I will always look back at Tallinn and remember how absolutely delicious and incredible the food was. It was probably the greatest “food day” of my entire life.)