The Wild East

"The groom appeared to be a scruffy chap by the name of 'Scrote'"

We ate in McDonalds at Taylor’s insistence. Estonian Techno is playing quietly in the background. The former Soviet states love techno; it plays at least 50% of the time. Slovakia is stuck in 1987, while Poland and Czech Republic consider themselves completely up to date.
We stroll through some of the main tourist attractions- the cobbled streets, look out across the city from some of the viewpoints. We went to the sea, and had the area to ourselves.

It was around this time that I began to notice how much Russian was being spoken around us. About 30% of the Estonian population is Russian, and most people are able to speak it. I was also surprised at the lack of British tourists around, since I’d heard that Tallinn was a favourite of the Scots.
WE got back to the hostel at around 9.30. With Tallinn being so far north (same latitute as the Shetland Isles) it was still light until well past 11. Scooby Doo was on, while we enjoyed a Saku- the local beer.

Saturday
We were kicked out of the hostel the next morning since it was booked up for the weekend. Finding another was a long and painful process (it took over 2 hours). All the accommodation in Tallinn is fairly expensive. We were also in Summer season. Bloody Finns. We had to make do with a dormitory (£10 each- ouch) but at least it was very central. The dorm was dark inside. There was the sound of groaning from some of the beds, presumably because the occupants had bad hangovers.
We paid our second visit to McDs. There were a group of about 5 men in their mid-20s in front of us. They all had identical T-shirts saying “I’m only here for the scenery” on. They were Brits on a Stagnight weekend.
The groom appeared to be a scruffy chap by the name of 'Scrote'.
Overhearing their conversation it sounded like Scrote had got particularly drunk the previous night, and had left his wallet and watch on the bar. Oh dear, an expensive evening then!

Our next idea (or my idea) was to walk inland towards a lake which was marked on all the maps. It would have been a good idea as well, but there was a 12 foot fence around it. It appeared to be a nature reserve.
Still not all was lost because we went into a supermarket that was absolutely huge, and Mark made a new friend: A kangaroo. No not a real one, somebody dressed up in a kangaroo outfit. I can’t remember what the reason for it was. Something like ‘free entry into a prize draw for a holiday to Australia’.
Later we headed back into the centre and sat down. The long way round though. Reason: Mark “this way we walk past wasted Swedish chicks” pointing to a group of drunk blondes.
We opted to do a bit of people-watching, which is very Lonely-Planet activity (i.e. must be very PC).

Most people were behaving themselves, but a group of rowdy, well-rinced, bare-chested Finns were providing some entertainment. Every so often one of them would climb onto the stage and salute to his collection of invisible fans, or attempt a handstand and fall over.
Next, a black man tried to sit down on their table.
This caused further commotion, but an old woman came over and told them all off. They were quiet after that.
I could just imagine them against the England fans- the Finns would probably help to clear up tables after the fight, and pay for any damage.

Dinner- McDs….again.

Went to two bars that evening. The first one was virtually empty and played continuous Chris Rea music. The second was a British bar (well it had a Union Jack outside), probably the same one that Scrote and co had been in the previous evening, and was much more lively.
The draught beer was bloody awful though, and expensive (32EE £1.25/pint). Incidentally a pint of Carling would cost you about £3.
We moved to the back area. A solitary Russian was dancing on the dancefloor. He seemed very good, and wasn’t in the slightest bit self-conscious, but was being totally ignored, apart from me and taylor who were fascinated by him.
We Christened him ‘King of Rock and Roll’ after the 1988 hit by Prefab Sprout (that song jumped into my mind for some reason). He wore a bandanna with matching sweatbands, and was quite eccentrically dressed. MT was quick to point out his shoes, which were canvass slip-ons.

He hadn’t bought a drink but had deposited his stuff on a nearby table. He had to watch it carefully though, since he had no friends to guard it for him. Every so often he would attempt to woo some girls near the bar, but was always unsuccessful.
I was very surprised; if he was in Britain he would have surely pulled by now. I wasn’t sure of the nationality of the people near the bar. We later found out they were British. We got more beers (bottles) and watched the entertainment. King of R & R
...a few lines from Prefab Sprouts hot drifted through my mind... All the pretty girls have flown, now I’m dancing on my own, I’m the King of Rock and Roll...
The King was being squeezed off the dancefloor, the coup de grace came when the Brits burst onto his dancefloor and began dancing erratically mimicing the King with whie toilet paper wrapped around their foreheads and wrists.

I felt a pang of sympathy for him. His efforts and technique weren’t being appreciated. A little while later and he had vanished. The Brits had pulled, but then they had probably traveled in a group together.
In the dorm some of our companions were fast asleep, and others were having a late night.

Back to Main Page