Den Hague, Den Rotterdump, Den Ghent

Not a lot to report from this weekend’s road trip to den Hague – just a nice, relaxing weekend with good friends.





On Friday night we encountered no traffic for the first time ever, which meant we made it to the Eurotunnel in perfect time. This was our first Eurotunnel experience as it’s a bit more expensive than the ferry, but as it is only a 30 minute journey from England to France, we decided to splash out and boy did it make the journey so much easier! We will always go via the Eurotunnel now when we are travelling around three hours on the other side, as it means you get a few precious hours of extra sleep that would have otherwise been spent chatting on the ferry. Quite an odd experience though as essentially you just drive up onto a train and then sit in your car for 30 mins while the train shoots beneath the ocean – bit odd really.

The three hour drive from Calais to the Netherlands flew by with the help of a few mixed CDs and we arrived at our hostel at around 1am local time. We set our alarms for early the next day to ensure we had time for breakfast and to find our way to O’Caseys pub, which we knew were playing the rugby. A rocky night’s sleep was had thanks to a tummy ache my end, and snoring/ sleep talking Kalem’s end. Poor Brad, I was thinking angry thoughts about Brad’s snoring on my top bunk, only to find out the next morning that he was doing the same – the culprit being none other than Mr. O’Sullivan!

Breakfast at our hostel was grand and we were soon wandering through Den Hague on route to the infamous O’Caseys, which was advertised as being the place where the NZ Consulate go to watch the game. Being in a packed pub with a bunch of Frenchies was enough to test the patience, especially after we were jostled and pushed without one excuse me, but when they eventually took the dream away from Wales, we were down in the dumps to say the least. Gutted – our plans of driving to Cardiff to watch the final were destroyed.







Picking ourselves up, we then went for a wander through the city, stopping off at the Escher Museum – a famous Dutch artists who played around with dimensions and space. He is awesome and I’m sure you would have all seen some of his work before. The museum was brilliant and we had a grand time, despite being without Hamish and Kalem who opted to not pay the entrance fee. His work is amazing and I’m so glad we had the opportunity to go to his hometown and experience his work up close and personal, as well as chuckle away at the interactive installations! Wee Jess even had the opportunity to feel what it is like to be one of us giants for a few moments…





Next up lunch, where Niels took us to a Dutch restaurant while we sat in the sun, overlooking the market place full of protestors. One particularly passionate individual seemed to get a little out of control and came screaming into a group of us diners accusing us of all sorts of atrocities. A little counterproductive to her cause and not exactly what you would call a peaceful protest, but it provided a nice bit of excitement all the same.



Scheveningen beach was our next port of call, where we spent a few hours sitting watching the world go by, whilst eating fries, ice-cream and hot dogs.



By this stage we were keen for a bit of rest and as it was 6pm we decided to head back to the hostel for a bit of rest, before deciding on our next action. Instead after a few games of pool between the boys, and a nap from me, we ended up just hanging back at the hostel chatting before heading off to bed at midnight. We had an early start that day and after an exhausting week, no-one, bar Hamish and Niels, was in the mood for a big night. So as we drifted off into the land of nod, the other two hit a few bars before calling it a night.

The next day we were up when it was still dark and were storming off to O’Caseys where we lined up outside, desperate to get a perfect position for the big game. We hit the jackpot and managed to get a cozy, cushioned booth which we were immensely grateful for by the time kick-off rolled around and the pub was jam-packed. We were all feeling more than a little nervous and tension was running rife amongst the group. With four Kiwis and an Aussie, of course we were quietly confident, but the upset of Wales had knocked us a little. What a game – surrounded by Kiwis and Australians (who knew there was such a strong expat community in Den Haag?) we screamed our way to victory! As we were so packed into our booth, we imagined that our cheers would be limited to a few arm raises whilst sitting down, but of course this never happens and as excitement took hold we were all on our feet screaming and cheering. Of course, due to the limited space, this didn’t go according to plan and as Brad got up to cheer, he managed to knock Niels who feel sideways, completely missing the try. His cries for help fell on completely deaf ears, drowned out in the hurrahs – he wasn’t impressed, but of course we were and we all fell over ourselves laughing at his misfortune!

Straight after the game we had to head back to the car and hit the road. We had grand plans to stop in Rotterdam, the Netherland’s second largest city, for lunch but as we drove through we had absolutely no desire to stop. The city was bombed flat during WWII so it’s not particularly pretty and unless you know where to go, you’re left with a feeling of ‘what the hell?’ So on we drove, this time making plans to stop at our beloved Ghent in Belgium – such a beautiful city and it really is a wonder why more people haven’t heard of it. We’d been there a few times before, but everyone else was delighted with it, so we spent a few hours here wandering around, eating chips in the sun watching boats pass through the canals, and shopping for Belgian beer.



We crossed the Eurotunnel in the flash of an eye and before we knew it, we were back in England. We finished off a relaxing weekend at our favourite pub in Maidstone, where the food once again exceeded expectation.

Lovely stuff!

x

A tale of two cities

Buda-freaking-Pest! Where do I start? We absolutely loved it, but as I type this I can almost hear Dad saying “Yeah, but you love everywhere”, so to try and convey our love for this amazingly different city we thought we’d kick off by laying down a few interesting facts.



- Budapest is actually pronounced Budapesht. This creates a bit of a problem really as if you go around pronouncing it correctly in New Zealand you’ll get a few sniggers and jokes about lisps behind your back, but if you pronounce it the Kiwi way in Hungary, you’ll be swizzed out of several thousand Hungarian forint on souvenir tea towels and would be better off tattooing the word TOURIST to your forehead.
- Buda and Pest are two cities, separated by the river Danube, which is the second most important waterway in Europe behind the River Rhine, and starts in the Black Forest, finishing in the Black Sea
- Hungarian is the fifth hardest language to learn in the world
- The Hungarian people originated from central Asia (now Mongolia). You might be familiar with one of the founders? Attila the Hun?
- Hungary is the home of 14 Nobel prize winners – by far the smartest nation in this respect pound for pound
- They’re famed for their inventions, which include some quite noteworthy gadgets including the Rubix Cube, Volkswagen Beetle, telephone exchange, electric lightbulb, Kodaly method (do, re, me) and the tried and tested Atomic bomb
- Famous Hungarians? Zsa Zsa Gabor and Harry Houdini to name a small few
- Hungary is a temperature of extremes and it can get to – 34 degrees in winter and 39 degrees in summer!

So with an impressive list like the above, how couldn’t we fall in love with Hungary?

We arrived into Budapest, flying Malev airlines (don’t worry, we hadn’t heard of them either) on Friday evening, where we had splashed out and arranged for a shuttle bus to our accommodation. Thanks goodness we did that I might add as we managed to time our visit with a refuge collection day and the streets were so piled with rubbish, that you couldn’t actually access the door! Mind you, the next morning the streets were sparkling again so the night elves did a great job.

Our accommodation was so amazing – Brad had found us an authentic wee apartment in a huge old fashioned Hungarian style building right in the loft. We wished we could stay there forever, whereas usually we’re looking forward to sleeping in our beds! We were asleep before our heads hit the pillow and awoke the next morning, with excitement firing in our bellies. Our drive through the city the night before has us rearing to go!



We got off to a bit of a rocky start by heading to the famed market which sold Langos for a spot of breakfast. We had heard many wonderful things about this mystery Langos, which I kid you not is deep fried bread in a Frisbee shape, covered in sour cream, cheese and garlic. OMG can you imagine something so amazing?! Needless to say we were more than a little anxious to get there. Sadly our navigation skills let us down and we ended up heading in the opposite direction, only having to hot foot it to the town square where we were taking a walking tour of the city. With disappointment and unsatisfied appetites, we kicked off the tour, but soon turned our moods right around when we saw just how amazing and beautiful this city really is. Hungary is so unlike any other European nation in the fact that they originated from Asia and their language isn’t related to any other, meaning they truly are a one-off right in the cozy continent of Europe. It has had such a sad and complex history, which was summed up by our guide who said ‘basically every war or battle we’ve been involved in, we have lost, so make sure you’re not on our side in a fight!’ More recently their country was devastated by WWII and of course, the Nazis. They fought on Germany’s side, but soon tried to pull out once they got wind of what was going on. By that time the Hungarian Arrow Cross party had their roots deep and the exterminations of hundreds of thousands had begun. In 1945 Hungary was finally ‘liberated’ by Russia’s Red Army, who of course, forgot to leave, meaning the country endured another 40+ years under totalitarian communist rule, secret spies, lies, torture, unfair imprisonment and death sentences. There was no such thing as free speech in this country and even now, the generation our age still grew up with communism, so they still don’t really view themselves as a democratic republic.






The city itself is so stunning though and it just feels so foreign. Every ten seconds I found myself reaching for the camera and we both agreed that if we could only ever visit four cities in the entire world, Budapest would be one of them.
As always, the walking tour was a great bet as we essentially had a three hour walk around the city, ticking of all sorts of amazing sights – buildings which we would have previously walked past without a moment’s thought all had an amazing story behind them, and the time just flew by.





We ended up on Buda Hill in the castle area and by this time we were absolutely ravenous, so the only option for us was to wind our way down the hill taking 50,000 photos and make our way alongside the river, until we finally found our beloved market. As soon as we clapped eyes on one of these Langos gems we knew our lives would never be the same again. We absolutely devoured them, too hungry to even stop to take a photo. It was only when we were halfway through our feast that we took a quick snap. It isn’t the best shot as you can see and is a little blurry, but the fact that we couldn’t be bothered taking another photo says it all. Every second spent taking photos was a second spent away from our Langos. Each bite was followed with a sigh and a mumbled ‘this is sooooooooooooooo good’, until all that was left of the memory was a greasy napkin. God Hungarian food is good, although as our tour guide said, Hungary is not the place to start a diet. Like the name of the nation suggests, there is much to be devoured and a standard Hungarian meal can contain 2000calories! Yes my friends, your entire daily allowance!



After wandering around the market, we decided to head back to the main square where I was keen to catch a Communist Tour to learn all about these harrowing times. Brad wasn’t so keen, so we compromised and went to what is known as the Terror House – the old site of interrogation during Nazi and Communist times. We had been warned that it is quite a dark experience, but I was blown away at how moved I was. It’s a completely different experience to Auschwitz as this is like a big huge museum, and is so modern and arty that the contrast with what was being communicated on the countless video screens they had around the place, as well as the Jaws-like music playing made it all so very creepy and sad. I just can’t believe it – 60 Andrassy Ave, a beautiful building on what is referred to as the French Champs-Elysees, was a site of such atrocity that we can’t even imagine what went on. I just don’t know how it happened and was justified. One of the last rooms was called ‘The Gallery of Perpetrators’ and contained floor to ceiling photos of all those who worked there. Many of these people were still alive, so this happened very much in this lifetime. It leaves you shaken.




Afterwards we managed to stumble across a street art exhibition where artists were doing their thing right in front of us. One of the lasses was using this paper stencil she had made and we had no idea what was underneath, until she pulled it and back and revealed this amazing picture which she had crafted with spray paint. Imagine it people – try and get your head around it! Budapest is very much like a low-key, less talked-up version of Berlin – such an awesome place.



Next up – a quick detour past the local supermarket and a 20 minute rest at our beloved apartment. We always spend all of our weekends walking, but this was something from another league. My knees are still sore four days later! After knocking back a few local chocolate treats I’d been urged to try (rubbish – Hungary aint famed for its chocolate that’s for sure), we set off to catch a night time river cruise down the beautiful Danube river. Such a treat – we’ve always been a fan of the night cruise after our experience in Hong Kong and this was no exception. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again – Budapest is so amazing!





By this stage we could just about fit a bit more food in so we set off to the famed restaurant street, a street which was suggested by locals as it was devoid of tourist traps, where we had a delicious traditional Hungarian meal – paprika (Hungary’s national spice) chicken and Hungarian pasta, goulash, chicken crepes, sausages and a side of stodge – bliss! We also shared a bottle of the famous Hungarian red wine Bukvar, which translates as bull’s blood. Let’s hope it’s not a literal translation. We also picked up a bottle of Unicum, which is a famous liqueur and is described as a ‘cross between Christmas and death’ – needless to say, we haven’t been brave enough to try it just yet! Maybe when Gemma and Mum come over for Christmas…

Budapest is quite famed for its Turkish Baths and it would have been utter sacrilege if we didn’t indulge, so we were delighted to learn that the most traditional baths in Budapest (one of 22 complexes!) was open until 4am on Saturday nights and for that one night only, both sexes were allowed to bath at the same time! As much as I’m keen to give anything a go, I didn’t fancy soaking next to 50 Hungarian ladies by myself. So off we set and it was clear from the get go that we did not belong, a fact which was heightened by having 60 sets of eyes staring at you as you try to ‘relax’ and let the healing waters do their ‘magic’. Don’t get me wrong, it was great fun and we sniggered together as beefy Hungarians in speedos grazed past our legs, while we sweated and squinted through the steam staring horrified as girls in high-waisted bikinis frolicked from pool to pool. We loved Budapest, but it does feel as if you’ve gone back a few decades – I mean at dinner the restaurant was playing ‘Barbie Girl’ and ‘Boys, Boys, Boys’, while a girl in newspaper printed tights with camel toe sauntered between tables - yes, you read that correctly.

We also weren’t quite familiar with the bath etiquette and when you’re solely in your swim wear surrounded by hundreds of people, it’s really not the best environment to set you at ease. So many saunas, different baths and buckets of icy cold water you’re meant to tip all of yourself – what’s the drill, in what order? We almost ran ourselves ragged with the stress of it all. Oh god, was I meant to have a sauna (set at 1 million degrees by the way) before I tipped ice water all over myself and gave myself irregular heart palpitations? I felt like a right tit – you could just about see the locals smirking with glee at my discomfort. ‘See that yob over there, thinks she can play with us big boys, but she’s just keeled over from heat exhaustion and she’s only in the baby pool’. We basked in the ‘ambience’ of it all for an hour and a half, before we managed to summon the energy to crawl to the changing rooms (more etiquette issues – am I supposed to stand around naked having a good old chin wag, bending over to pick up my shoes giving everyone a second-to-none view of my a-hole?). We left there feeling exhausted and given it was almost 2am – in dire need of sleep.

We slept for all of five minutes before Brad had set his alarm to get up and watch the rugby! I had opted to stay snoozing and we had fashioned a plan to meet three hours later in the town square, which is why I awoke with shock a few hours later to hear someone knocking on the windows of our apartment. Nervous it might have been a creep from the baths, I reluctantly tiptoed to the window, only to see Brad outside looking rather chilly. Turns out, Hungarians aren’t the greatest rugby fans and not one sports bar in the city was playing the rugby – and he would know, he walked around for two hours looking for one! It was pretty chilly outside, but he insists he had a lovely time as he basically had the entire city to himself – no one else was that crazy to be up and outside so early on a chilly Sunday morning. He had the good grace to bring back a few gems from the supermarket, so we had a wee munch before getting up, reluctantly checking out of our beloved apartment and hitting the road.

We had fashioned a plan for the morning, which involved a delicious something to eat at a famous Hungarian cafe, Lukacs, followed by a big walk to one of Hungary’s largest city parks, which was home to a large flea market on Sunday. The café was amazing and uber flash – we had a pastry and shared a piece of cake, with a coffee for Brad. We soon realised that we had better blimmen get going, as working back from the time we knew we had to be back at our apartment for pick up we didn’t have much time at all. More fast-paced walking that would put an Olympic athlete to shame, and we arrived – no time to soak it all up, we continued to hoon it to the markets. En route, I spotted a stall selling Langos, but a quick jerk on my arm from Brad had me thinking I had just imagined it. Make no mistake, he is his father’s son. I couldn’t keep up with Brad’s legs as he frantically searched for this infamous market, and instead opted to collapse beneath a big tree and watch leaves fall all around me – very soothing. Not for long sadly as Brad was back, shouting manically about a stall he had found, begging me to go without food so we could spend our last few forint here. He had found the perfect souvenir for us – a bullet from a Russian AK47, complete with shell, although thankfully the gun powder had been drilled out, otherwise I’m not sure how we would have managed to sneak that through customs.




Then it was a sprint to the nearest Metro (the second oldest Metro system in the world after London), where we had just enough time to run back to the hostel, grab our bags in time for our shuttle.

An utterly perfect weekend and one that we will never forget. It’s not the last we will see of Budapest either, but next time we go we will be back for a week!

Much love

x

Crossing the Finnish line to Tallinn

To sum it up, our four day stint in Helsinki and Tallinn was one of our best holidays yet. We were always going to be happy with four days off work, but we really were blown away with these two places – Estonia in particular.

We arrived in Finland on Wednesday evening and despite the light drizzle, we decided to walk to our hostel after we caught the airport bus into Helsinki’s city centre. I’d printed out a map before we left London and it really was the perfect way to start the trip – strolling through an empty city centre, passing the beautiful Helsinki Cathedral and famous Russian Orthodox Church en route to our hostel, which had its own sauna. Regretfully, when we got there we were informed that their sauna was out of operation and had been since March – bit of a bugger as it was the key reason we had decided to stay in this place, but nevertheless nothing could dampen our trip, least of all a dysfunctional sauna!



Given the two hour time difference from London, we slept in the next morning until 9am, when we got up and headed off to the ferry terminal to pick up a couple of ferry tickets to Tallinn, Estonia for the next day. With the chores out of the way, we ventured into town, this time via the tram as we had the good fortune of seeing Helsinki on ‘car free day’, where tram tickets are heavily discounted to encourage locals to leave their cars at home. Brad had been up half the night before studying up on the local sites so he led the way, but not before we stopped off at a local supermarket and went mental buying all sorts of delightful Finnish baked goods for breakfast.



After stuffing ourselves silly we headed outside only to be greeted with pouring rain. Bugger – but to be fair, you can’t let the weather affect you in Europe or you wouldn’t see much at all, and we have been blessed with very good luck most of the time. So we decided to get saturated and to not care. First stop – the stunning Helsinki Cathedral, followed by our first experience of a Russian Orthodox Church, which also happened to be the biggest in Finland.



Helsinki was great. After a while you sort of come to expect the same thing from the Nordics, but Helsinki was a bit different thanks to its Russian influence through years of Russian occupation. I loved it, but it wasn’t as visually aesthetic as Copenhagen – not that it worries us, the Finnish eat reindeer and moose so what could be cooler than that?





We set off walking around the city, but soon turned to the 3T tram, which Brad had read was a great tram for sightseeing, after a sudden downpour. We followed this tram around the entire track, getting off at several stops to check out the sights – one of which was an amazing church which had been built into rocks. It was fairly new and so amazing – the walls of the church were complete rocks and the entire thing was underground, with an amazing wooden ceiling which was level with the ground. Pretty cool to say the least.



We then jumped back on the tram where we followed it around, gazing out at the old Olympic Village, ice-skating parks and the thousands of other sights we saw along the way. It was only after Brad dropped off to sleep while we were counting down from 20 that we decided we had best get off and get some caffeine into him, and where better than Helsinki’s oldest cafe – Cafe Ekberg? We rocked up to this bustling little gem and ordered up a storm, deciding to partake in a delicious slice of one of their most famous cakes, as well as numerous cups of coffee and hot chocolate. I even had a few sips of Brad’s coffee – my first time trying the beverage – and I must say that I felt quite ill afterwards. Not for me. We spent a glorious hour relaxing here, before venturing off to explore the little boutique shops and cosy corners this district of Helsinki was famous for. We stumbled across an old antique market, followed by a flea market where we found a delightful few postcards of old postcards and purchased a few for a future wall display.



We set off again, this time wandering around the outskirts of the city until we found our way back to the harbour and spent some time watching the huge old ferries come in dropping of passengers from Stockholm, as well as the navy docking their ships. Right by the wharf we found an old food market, where we gawped at the reindeer sandwiches and extensive fish stalls, before the smell became too over powering and we escaped back into the fresh air.



We finished our day’s exploring with a lengthy walk right around the waterfront and through seaside neighbourhoods, passing little Finnish families who were out for an evening stroll, before winding our way back to a hostel starving, chilly and very much in need of a beer. Here came the real trouble – deciding what to have from the delicious menu our hostel offered, but given we were in Finland we didn’t have too much trouble in making our decision, as the only option was Reindeer pizza (aptly titled ‘Rudolph Pizza’ and a plate of Elk (aka MOOSE) sausages – both of which were delicious.

The next morning we headed straight to the ferry terminal, expecting to go through a rigorous customs check given we were leaving Scandinavia and entering the Baltics. We needn’t have bothered as they didn’t even so much as check our Passports, so instead our time was spent munching on Finnish treats at the terminal cafe, before fighting thousands of people for a seat on the ferry. Thankfully our Sea France ferry training came in handy and we managed to secure a window seat, which provided lovely views of the Fortress Island and cityscape as we departed Finland for Estonia. The ferry provided endless entertainment as we each took turns going up to the Finnish buffet and purchasing a few snacks for us to slowly devour and before we knew it, two and a half hours later, we were pulling up to Tallinn, Estonia – a place I didn’t even know existed until we had an Estonian exchange student come to our high school. I had no idea there was even a country called Estonia so visiting it was a bit of a dream come true really, albeit a pretty low brow one, but a dream all the same.



Our first thoughts of Estonia were nothing but positive, but as we walked from the ferry terminal and turned into the old town, we were utterly speechless. To say it is beautiful is understating it significantly – it is amazing! Imagine stepping back into medieval times and you’ve come some way to experiencing Tallinn. Our hostel was right in the thick of it and we anxiously dropped off our bags and practically ran down the stairs ready to explore. I was overcome with one of those ‘oh my god, oh my god’ moments where I was almost stressed by its amazingess! After chatting with one of the workers at our hostel for a wee while, we had a list our arms length of things to do and places to see, that weren’t on any of the tourist maps. First stop, an amazing medieval restaurant set in the 13th century beneath the old town hall, where we stuffed ourselves with moose pastries and moose soup for 1€ each. It goes without saying that this became a staple for us and we frequented this joint at least twice a day!



The guy at our hostel had told us of this little market in the Russian section of town, which was like ‘stepping back into 1950s Ukraine.’ Given Estonia was under Russian influence for so long, Tallinn has a huge Russian community but after the revolution they were either told to bugger off back home, or stay under one condition – you learn to speak Estonian. They tend to stick to specific sections of town and this market was the most peculiar thing – I’ve never felt so far away from home. We were told not to take any photos as they can get quite annoyed and you don’t want an angry Russian having a go, so needless to say the camera stayed in the bag, but not to worry as this place will probably be forever engrained in our minds. We were wandering around this sad, peculiar, unsettling little market when we stumbled across a stall selling.... wait for it.... Nazi and Communist paraphernalia straight from the days of WWII, from medals to matches to alarm clocks – you name it, he’s got it, provided it has Stalin or Hitler’s face on it of course. We were intrigued, nervous and appalled at the same time, but of course we had a good gawk and even managed a stilted conversation with the old man selling the goods. Trying to work out whether it was weird or acceptable if we brought something to remember the experience by, we decided it was probably a bit inappropriate, but bugger it – so we purchased an old Soviet war medal and a pack of communist matches with Stalin’s face on them. I’m a little nervous of how we are going to get them through NZ customs when we return, but it’s worth a few raised eyebrows I guess.







After we got out of this unsettling little place (like something out of the Hills have Eyes – it felt like all eyes were boring into our backs) we spent a glorious three or so hours wandering through the cobbled alleys of the medieval old town, climbing old church spires for glorious views, walking the city’s fortress walls, shopping in the old market selling everything you can imagine in knitted form, stuffing ourselves with more moose pies and taking 101 photos. Full of moose, we decided to try another one of Tallinn’s famed eateries – Compressor, a huge creperie where you can get any type of crepe you imagine for around 4€. Let it be said that even the hungriest of fat kids couldn’t finish their plate and ask for seconds. This became an utter staple for us and alongside the moose pies, we didn’t eat anywhere else! My first round of crepes were apple and vanilla sauce, while Brad opted for bacon and smoked cheese, but any combo you could imagine you could essentially get, including peach, brie and cottage cheese – what a combo!



By this stage it was getting late, so we headed back to our hostel past a shop aptly titled Alko to pick up a few beverages and headed back to our hostel where we met our lovely roommates and had a few drinks in anticipation of the big pub crawl that evening. Tallinn is also famed for its nightlife (it truly is the world’s most perfect city – what isn’t it famous for!?) and we were keen to experience it. We met a ton of people on the tour, including a great bunch of English lads who just happen to live a road or so away from us! We had a great night dancing and drinking the weirdo local drinks, including Fizz – a sort of blueberry fizzy cider which didn’t leave much to be desired. It felt so foreign as we watched the locals dance – everywhere we go is obviously foreign, but Estonians just looked and dressed so completely different that it was all a bit of an experience. The night finished off with a trip to McDonald’s – we must have needed a taste of the ordinary after watching all those Russian dolls and pouty blokes dance.



The next morning we didn’t have the luxury of a sleep in – why you ask? All Blacks versus France of course. Brad had done his research prior to departure (after a near miss in Manchester no doubt) and had lined up a pub called Molly Malone’s which promised to be playing all the games. So off we trot, walking through a traditional market smack bang in the middle of the square alongside an all day cultural concert. Tallinn has been named the 2011 Culture Capital of Europe and they’re really living up to their name. It was a perfect time to visit and everywhere you looked they were laying on a visual treat.

Anyway, we made it to Molly Malone’s where we were instantly befriended by some British and Welsh men who despite the early hour of 11am were already sloshed from celebrating England’s win over Romania. We were soon joined by a 6”4 Finnish man built like a brick sh*thouse, who after smiling at us for an intermittent amount of time, eventually came over to us and explained that while he couldn’t speak much English, he would very much like to talk and sit with us. Lovely chap, pull up a pew we cried! We talked him through the rules of Rugby (well Brad did while I leaned closer to Brad feeling a little uncomfortable with the lack of personal space – Europeans have a different idea to this than we do, well the Finnish anyway) and it was then that he confided in Brad that he had actually played American Football for 17 years.... professionally... for a little team called the Dallas Cowboys! Well as you can imagine, Brad’s face registered the shock and I had to politely chat away to the Finnish man mountain while Brad came to. The conversation soon took a different direction and the man talked us through his life experiences, expectations and how he is finding life after being a professional football star – interesting to say the very least! He still earns a bit of money through sponsorship from Adidas in Finland, but on the money he was earning a year (a tidy $4.5 million), money is the least of his worries. He was such a nice guy and our real regret was not learning how to spell his completely Finnish name so we can Google him. After the rugby we had grand plans of hitting the streets but we were easily persuaded into having another drink with our new multicultural friends, but just the one mind you and we had to forcibly insist on leaving, otherwise we would still be there chuckling away.



So off we set straight back into the sightseeing where we explored the city –churches, supposedly haunted bunkers and buildings, monuments – the works! After walking around for a few hours we had worked up an appetite so off we set back to our beloved creperie restaurant where we stuffed our faces once again, eating ourselves sick until we swore we wouldn’t ever touch another crepe again (until the next day of course).

Because Tallinn’s old town is so beautiful with more than enough to keep you occupied, 95 per cent of tourists never leave it. As you can imagine when Brad and I heard this stat we vowed to be one of the 5 per cent who see a different side to the city, which is how we found ourselves boarding a tram and hotfooting it to Kadroig Park – a huge beautiful park just out of the city. Wandering through the grounds with lots of little Estonian families showed a real different side to the city and as the park is home to the Presidential palace it also provided a spot of sightseeing. It was pretty chilly and we can barely imagine how freezing it would be in winter.



Next stop was our hostel where we lucked out with an empty room and managed to grab a couple of hours of sleep before our new roommates arrived (creepy old Finnish man and very young Chinese girl prone to baby talk – sick). Still full from our crepes feast we decided to have a light dinner with just a few bowls of moose soup and pastries to tide us over until breakfast. Once again we marvelled at out little stone, candlelit favourite as we ate ourselves sick, before heading out into the town square where we stumbled across an abstract light and music installation. Not keen to party yet not keen to retire, we spent a few hours wandering around the city after dark, stumbling across places we hadn’t noticed before – including an amazing Moulin Rouge style cafe where I had the best hot chocolate I have ever had! Just before midnight we headed back to our hostel where we chatted to our friends from the night before while they had a few drinks before heading back.





The next morning we awoke early thanks to the Chinese baby-girl rustling through a plastic bag for half an hour. Next thing you know the creepy Fin is up and asking us loudly whether we wanted the window open. To try and make my message clear I said groggily – ‘no, we just want to sleep’, only to have him declare ‘no, the air is thick – we will open it’, before he waltzed out leaving us with a wide open window on the main street of Tallinn with an icy breeze streaming through the room. While it made my blood boil, it provided good material for the book I am going to write when I get home titled ‘Hostel Etiquette’. It might seem an obvious thing but you’ll be absolutely blown away at how many shmucks there are out there who don’t think twice about turning on the lights at 3am, despite eight people who moments before were sleeping soundly, or don’t give a moment’s consideration to giving their family in South Africa a call from their bunk bed at 5am while everyone else is jolted awake to the sound of Afrikaans. So anyway, we were awake thanks to a pervey Fin and his creepy child bride, so we had no choice but to get up and hit the streets of Tallinn. This time we had decided to once again venture out of the beautiful old town to visit a less explored part of town. As Tallinn is the 2011 European Culture Capital, they have mapped out a few different walks so we decided to give a lovely scenic walk a go which took us past the beach and an old soviet prison, where thousands were tortured and killed. It was very chilling and eerie and we were quite keen to get out of there quickly.



Next stop, you guessed it – back to the creperie for one last feed. Old habits die hard! After once again eating ourselves sick we stumbled across a big folk concert happening in the town centre which we watched for an hour, before taking one last walk around beautiful Tallinn. Next stop – the airport, where we flew Estonian Air back to London.

Sigh – the dream has to end somewhere I guess. Mind you the next instalment will follow pretty quickly as all bar two weekends from here on in and chocka block full of amazing trips right up until January 2012! Next stop, Budapest!

x