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Next morning, it was time to get organised. At the airport the previous evening, I'd
picked up a copy of Tallinn in Your Pocket.
Therein, I found the biggest shopping centre, which was far away but an
easy ride on trolley bus 6. Off I went
in search of clothes. As I've said, I
had already intended to buy clothes on this trip in the hopes that I'd find
more options in my size - how wrong I was! - but after researching online, it
seemed Russia would be the best place to buy.
Losing my bag forced my hand because if it didn't arrive today (the
baggage clerk had said I'd probably get it today), I wouldn't
have enough to take with me to St Petersburg.
As I stepped into Rocca Al Mere Centre, there was a pharmacy
to my right. I went in for advice. I explained my missing medicine and showed
the baggage report. The very helpful lady
gave me an emergency number in case I needed to see a doctor. Then she called the airport for me and asked
about the bag. They assured her that it
would arrive today, around 2pm. I
determined to wait until late afternoon before calling the emergency service.
Next it was time to shop.
Predictably, the clothes were all too small for me, and way too
expensive. Then I found Marks &
Spencer. There I found five shirts that
fit, but no trousers. (I also bought
some British treats for my Scottish friend Joanne.) On the advice of the Lonely Planet, I wanted
to dress up slightly for the ballet in St Petersburg, and later found neat
trousers at the supermarket in the same centre.
Shopping done, I returned to Old Town, got some rubles and retired to my
hotel. At around 2pm I got a call from
reception to say my bag had arrived.
Phew! Thank heavens! Time to explore again.......
Violinist in Tallinn
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| Tallinn OldTown (more) |
The next morning was more exciting than anticipated. I have been on ferries in Africa and Asia,
but nothing the size of Viking Line.
It's a veritable floating town.
Surprisingly, the cafes and ready meals were priced the same as on
land. I found a locker for my bag (I'd
left the hard case at Center Hotel again), and ambled about the ship. It was all terribly thrilling.
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| Viking Line (more) |
The Gulf of Finland
Wine bottles rattling on board
Hint
of Helsinki
I'd arranged it such that I had time to visit some museums in
Helsinki before boarding ship to Russia. Docking at one port, I'd anyway have
to make it across the city centre to another for the second sail. I made my way up to the tourist office I'd
located on the map, where I learned the location of lockers and the trams I
needed to cart me from ferry to ferry.
At the main train station, I deposited my bags and ventured out to take
on the museums. Damn it! I'd locked the tourist guides away with my
bags. Well, whatever, my legs were
killing me, so I decided to find food, take a break and then ride the
Hop-On-Hop-Off city bus to take in the sights in comfort. Hobbling to the pick up point, I scoured for
a seamstress who could shorten the legs of the trousers I'd bought in
Tallinn. I'd tried to do it myself, but
tailoring is clearly not my calling.
There was none to be found. I
resolved to tackle that task again in St Petersburg.
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| Helsinki (more) |
From the tour bus I saw another forgotten plan. Years ago, formulating the dream that would
lead to this journey, I imagined myself sitting on the Sibelius Train,
listening to a Sibelius tone poem while composing a piece on the Sibelius score
writing program I purchased. Jean Sibelius is arguably
Finland's most famous composer, and while I don't love his serious music
(symphonies, concertos and the like), I adore his tone poems. The Sibelius Train
used to run between Helsinki and St Petersburg, but has been discontinued. Now from the bus top, the Sibelius Monument
came into view. At first I was reticent
about getting off because of my lazy legs, but soon realised that chances were
I'd never be here again, so I scurried down the steps and out the door.
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| Sibelius Monument (more) |
It was now time to head to the port. I was fully enthusiastic. I was to board:
The Princess
Maria (above) and its sister, Princess Anastasia, are run by St Petersline. Maria calls at Helsinki and St Petersburg
only, whereas Anastasia takes in more ports around the Baltic Sea and Gulf of
Finland. Here was the first time since
entering the Schengen Area
that I had to go through passport control.
Stepping onto the ship, our bags went through the same checks that they
do at airports. It took me an epoch to
find my cabin, which was the cheapest I could buy and I am so happy for it -
there was no window, which meant that the bright northern skies would not wake
me too early, and the room was air conditioned, ensuring that I had the best
sleep thus far.
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| Boarding the ship |
Meandering about the ship was enthralling. I was overcome by how much nicer it was to
travel this way than by plane. Everybody
was walking about, and the ship was buzzing.
There was a shop, many restaurants and a outside area on the 7th and 8th
decks. Before dinner, I had a few drinks
at Cubar, where a young, confident, fetching barman served me. I was so enamoured that I tipped way too
well.
Booking this trip, I turned down meal options, but later
changed my mind. This too was likely to
be a once in a lifetime experience, so I acquiesced. I am so happy I did. The dinner buffet was spectacular. I arrived 10 minutes before the start of
service, and when the doors opened, everyone rushed in and I rushed along; a
feeding frenzy ensued. It brought to
mind BlackFriday, which my American friends have told me about.
Present on the buffet were all the Western favourites I'm
starved of in Asia. There were roasts,
ground meat in pancakes which tasted like sausage rolls, ground pork cakes
wrapped in cabbage just like Mom used to make, cold meats, salads, liver pate
and SMOKED SALMON! The vegetables were
horribly overcooked, but everything else was a delight, and I ate and ate. Breakfast in the morning was also a
delight. The usual suspects were all on
offer: eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, cereal, fruit, yogurt, as well as more
smoked salmon. Again, I ate and ate. Arriving in port, I was stamped into the
Russian Federation. I felt intoxicated
with excitement. Beyond immigration, a brass band welcomed us.
