Soomaa National Park: exploring Estonia’s Amazon by canoe

As we headed straight for the pillar of a bridge, I tried to recall Algis’ advice. We sat in a shaky canoe on the Raudna river and collision was unavoidable. But with the best will in the world, I couldn’t remember what Algis had told us to do in case the boat tipped over. The chatty local, who had picked us up in the darkness with his rickety car, had shared with us so much that morning. From facts about nature to the number of children which he could push into a canoe in one minute (30).

I did know that the water was freezing cold. I didn’t have to go under for that. It was the end of October. Winter was upon us. You may be wondering, dear reader, why we went canoeing in the first place? Wouldn’t it be better to stay in, with a good book and a cup of hot cocoa? In other words, wouldn’t be better to be normal? Thanks for the concern, but our mental health is fine. No, we explored Soomaa National Park, one of the wildest areas in Estonia, of our own free will. More specifically, it was a birthday present for Anete from my parents. If we ended up wet, or worse, it was all their fault.

Continue Reading →

How to access national parks and other nature reserves in Estonia by public transport

However glorious Tallinn, Tartu and Pärnu can be, you’re missing out on a quintessential experience if you stick to the cities of Estonia. Nature is what defines this country. Wherever you turn, you’ll find forests and meadows full of wildflowers, dramatic cliffs and sandy beaches, marshes and bogs, lakes, islands and waterfalls.

Estonia’s nature can be enjoyed in every season, but the long June and July days are especially suitable for berry-picking, swimming in lakes, making bonfires, camping or simply going for a hike. Estonians use these summer months to recharge the batteries for the long and wearing winter.

No car? No problem! Cities are better connected than the countryside, but that doesn’t mean that backpackers or budget travellers can’t enjoy the national parks and nature reserves of Estonia using public transport. As long as you have time and patience, you can get almost anywhere.

Below, we list some options to inspire you. Nature is everywhere in Estonia, so your only limit is your own imagination. Be creative, get off the beaten track. If we can do it, without a car or smartphone, you can, too.

Continue Reading →

Christmas in Estonia: “Welcome to Chechnya”

It’s 17 December and, for a brief moment, I feel like a Real Estonian Man. You know, a Kalevipoeg strong enough to carry a huge stack of planks, but too stupid to spell his own name.

There’s plenty of chances to feel like a Real Estonian Man during Christmas time in Estonia. You could eat enormous piles of meat or put real candles in a tree. Not those fake led lights that everyone in western Europe seems to opt for. Chickens! To hell with fire safety, whoever burns down his house in Estonia at least does so in a festive mood.

Continue Reading →

Sillamäe: the most Russian place in Estonia

Things get out off hand around half past ten. The manager of Baar Randevuu, whose frizzy hair looks a bit like that of an alpaca, throws out a female customer. The woman brushes the mud off her dress, a scanty garment so kitsch that only a Russian would wear it outside of the carnival season, and shouts back loudly. Suka! Blyat! Now, our knowledge of the Russian language is rather limited, but it doesn’t seem that she’s thanking the manager for the fine evening out. During her tirade, vodka fumes escape that could make an elephant end up in a drinking coma. Welcome to Sillamäe, the most Russian place in Estonia.

Continue Reading →

A Birthday in Toila, Estonia: cycling, saunas and spruce forests

When you turn 23, you party until the moon becomes a sun, and drink enough beer to single-handedly keep AB-Inbev’s business figures up. It’s the celebration of your life and all your friends are invited! Then, seemingly the next day, you turn 33 and you feel weary, beat, exhausted. You’d love to go to the bar, but how about getting rid of that sleep deprivation? You need a good soak in a jacuzzi and a decent night of sleep. That’s the story of life, dear friends. One day, you’re young and the night is endless, the next you’re contemplating the value of different supermarket loyalty cards. One day, your hobbies include sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll. The next, you like birdwatching and spa visits, and consider fleece blankets the best thing since sliced bread.

Fat City

That is why we board a train to Jõhvi on my birthday. I might be getting old, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let life lull me to sleep. Trains in Estonia look like carrots, but they’re comfortable, fast and have free wifi. We sit opposite a guy in khaki camouflage colours who’s slurping coffee. He leaves the train in Tapa, which translates as Kill. Tapa is the home of a large military base. I think it’s brilliant that the Estonian army is based in Kill. More enterprises should be that transparent. Think about McDonald’s opening its HQ in a place called Fat City, Obesity or Diabetes, Facebook in Fuck Your Privacy, or the Belgian train company NMBS in Always Late. It would so much fun!

Anyway, there’s a reason why I’m mentioning that soldier with his coffee on the train. By the time we arrive in Jõhvi, we’re dying for a coffee. Alas, Jõhvi, like most other mid-sized Estonian cities, is deprived of many facilities. At least if you’re not looking for a mall, because, like most other mid-sized Estonian cities, Jõhvi has malls a-plenty. All the cafés are closed. Good thing we’re not in a hurry, so we idle away until the bar of Wironia Hotell opens its door.

We step inside and wait in line behind two middle-aged ladies who discuss loudly which cake they should have with their alcoholic cocktails. It’s ten in the morning on a weekday. I order a piece of cake with cranberries. After all, we’re in Jõhvi. Cranberry translates into Estonian as jõhvikas. Even though the two have no real connection, I like the logic behind ordering jõhvikakook in Jõhvi. It makes almost as much sense as building an army camp in Kill.

Vodka drama

According to some Estonians, Jõhvi is the “real” border of Estonia. Everything that lies east of Jõhvi is predominantly Russian-speaking. In fact, Jõhvi is too, with two-thirds of the town ethnic Russians. We stand in line for the ATM between Estonian Russians and buy a raincoat in a kiosk from a Russian. It’s not weird – by now, I’m used to life in Lasnamäe. In one of Tallinn’s most Russian neighbourhoods, you can witness a marital drama over a bottle of vodka any time of the day.

Jõhvi’s only landmarks worth mentioning are the concert hall from glass – which spearheads the attempts to re-establish something of an Estonian identity in this town – and two churches, one orthodox and one Lutheran. The latter, the Jõhvi Church of St. Michael, witnessed the execution of two vicars, in 1918 and in 1941, which, according to Bradt’s Estonia guidebook, gives it “the macabre distinction of being the only church in Estonia with two martyrs.”

Jõhvi Church of St. Michael.
One church, two martyrs.

Estonia, the Anti-America

We jump onto our bicycles, leave Jõhvi northwards, direction Toila, and cross the pühajõgi, the Holy River, which is more like a creek than anything Grand, Big or Larger Than Life.

I like that about Estonia, that everything is on a human scale. The country doesn’t try to be more impressive than it actually is. It’s the anti-America. Even its highest mountain is nothing more than a molehill with pretension. It’s called Big Egg Mountain, for fuck’s sake, hardly a name that strikes fear into the hearts of mountaineers. In Estonia, even your grandmother can summit the 20 highest peaks of the country in one day. To make it more challenging, Estonians make that hike on Christmas Day. Possibly they do so while still drunk from the previous day’s celebrations, as that seems to be a thing with the people from this wondrous country.

Anete cycles near Kotinuka, Estonia.

We turn right after the Holy River, cycle past a lonely wild strawberry picker and through the spruce forests. We encounter two cars before we reach Kotinuka. As soon as we leave the village and its 40 inhabitants behind, the road turns dusty and we’re on our own.

Winter swimming in summer

Famous for its spa, Toila always attracted a lot of wealthy Russians and Baltic Germans. We’re staying in Voka, on the other side of Oru Park, in a lovely cabin with access to a swimming pond. Which is all we need after marinating for a couple of hours in the Estonian summer sun – yes, climate change is real! It’s not our only swimming option. Toila has a pebble beach which – I can attest to – is a great place for winter swimmers, even in summer. Not for the faint of heart!

Pebble beach in Toila, Estonia.

Oru Park once held a castle, built by a certain Grigory Yeliseyev, a rich merchant from Saint Petersburg who made his fortune with a shop on Nevsky Prospekt. Now, I’m not sure if Russia has its own version of Monopoly. But if it has, Nevsky Prospekt is probably the most expensive street on the board. So yeah, Yeliseyev had the dough to construct a fabulous palace in Italian renaissance style in Estonia and he even had the money to swap Toila for Paris when the net was closing in on rich bastards like himself. A few Estonian industrials bought the property in 1934 and gifted it to the young Estonian state. The palace in Toila served as a holiday house for Konstantin Päts, the first Estonian president.

Coffee with a view

Nowadays, there is no palace to be found in Toila. The Red Army, retreating from advancing German forces, burned it to the ground in 1941. By that time, Päts was already dwindling away in a psychiatric institution somewhere in Siberia, where he kept insisting that he was the president of Estonia. A sad end, both for the castle as well as for Päts. Luckily, the garden has regained its former glory, with fountains, flower beds, tree-lined avenues and little trails that meander through the scenery. On a cliff, we find Päts’ little coffee pavilion. The president constructed a rock garden on the slopes, the biggest of its time. The pavilion overlooks the Baltic sea and the sunrise. We can see all the way to Sillamäe. Not a bad place to have a cup of coffee! I start to understand why Päts spent his free time in this slice of paradise.

O, by the way: forgot what I said about the pühajõgi, the Holy River, not being grand. In Toila’s Oru Park, it cuts the landscape in half. Which allows for hilly views uncharacteristic of this part of Estonia. To reach Toila, we have to zip down the hill on our bicycles and, err, toil our way up again. It’s a good thing that the spa awaits on the other side. After soaking in various baths and saunas for a couple of hours, we blissfully swoop down the hill again, accompanied by the most glorious of sunsets. Which idiot said Estonia couldn’t be grand?

ONWARDS: From Toila, we cycled to Sillamäe, the most Russian place in Estonia.