In an attempt to deal with my flight to Estonia, I’ve stayed up all night in the hope that I will pass out on the plane. I’m walking around Gatwick like a zombie at stupid o’clock in the morning, having arrived far too early for the departure. There’s plenty of time for the seeds of fear to plant into my brain and weed themselves into my psyche. I google Easyjets’ track safety record for some reassurance. Finding no fatal air disasters to date in some 2.69 million flights does little to calm my nerves. There’s a first time for everything.
A few hours later and I’ve arrived, unscathed, in Tallinn; Estonia’s charming capital. It’s a far cry from the rat-race stink-hole that is London, and I take to the quiet streets in the afternoon sun. Having successfully survived the flight, coupled with the fact that I’ve put some distance from myself and the UK, I’m feeling surprisingly upbeat. It’s a pleasure to stroll through the medieval old town and get lost down the narrow passageways and courtyards. With only 400,000 odd inhabitants, Tallinn is my kind of capital. I take a spot of lunch in a traditional ye olde worlde tavern, complete with wenches dressed for the part. The city clearly prides itself on its dark age history. They even think that ale is holy! I think I’m going to like it here.
After a thick Elk soup, OX sausages and Elderflower juice, I get a serious talking to by a wench. Presumably all part of the experience. “WHO IS GOING TO CLEAR UP AFTER YOU BOY?! YOUR MUM DOESN’T WORK HERE!” she bellows in front of amused customers. I stammer my apologies and take my bowls where instructed, before beating a hasty retreat from the crazy. I’ll be back tomorrow.
I spend the afternoon stretching my new cameras legs, and my own, with a wander around the old town. I feel a sense of relief, like something heavy has lifted, and a lot more positive than in recent weeks. That’s what travel does for you I guess; gets you out of the hole you’ve been stuck in, slaps you round the face, and encourages you to live again. Well I intend to, with a promise to cut down on the drinking and smoking too, and start doing some more wholesome activities. And isn’t it nice to be talking about travel again, and not about girls?
Tallinn
In an attempt to deal with my flight to Estonia, I’ve stayed up all night in the hope that I will pass out on the plane. I’m walking around Gatwick like a zombie at stupid o’clock in the morning, having arrived far too early for the departure. There’s plenty of time for the seeds of fear to plant into my brain and weed themselves into my psyche. I google Easyjets’ track safety record for some reassurance. Finding no fatal air disasters to date in some 2.69 million flights does little to calm my nerves. There’s a first time for everything.
A few hours later and I’ve arrived, unscathed, in Tallinn; Estonia’s charming capital. It’s a far cry from the rat-race stink-hole that is London, and I take to the quiet streets in the afternoon sun. Having successfully survived the flight, coupled with the fact that I’ve put some distance from myself and the UK, I’m feeling surprisingly upbeat. It’s a pleasure to stroll through the medieval old town and get lost down the narrow passageways and courtyards. With only 400,000 odd inhabitants, Tallinn is my kind of capital. I take a spot of lunch in a traditional ye olde worlde tavern, complete with wenches dressed for the part. The city clearly prides itself on its dark age history. They even think that ale is holy! I think I’m going to like it here.
After a thick Elk soup, OX sausages and Elderflower juice, I get a serious talking to by a wench. Presumably all part of the experience. “WHO IS GOING TO CLEAR UP AFTER YOU BOY?! YOUR MUM DOESN’T WORK HERE!” she bellows in front of amused customers. I stammer my apologies and take my bowls where instructed, before beating a hasty retreat from the crazy. I’ll be back tomorrow.
I spend the afternoon stretching my new cameras legs, and my own, with a wander around the old town. I feel a sense of relief, like something heavy has lifted, and a lot more positive than in recent weeks. That’s what travel does for you I guess; gets you out of the hole you’ve been stuck in, slaps you round the face, and encourages you to live again. Well I intend to, with a promise to cut down on the drinking and smoking too, and start doing some more wholesome activities. And isn’t it nice to be talking about travel again, and not about girls?