17.09.2011 - 17.09.2011
View Overland debacle on beatski's travel map.
Tallinn, Estonia – 17th September
Tallinn really has a lot to thank Michael O’Leary for, I mean all those groups of English yobs on Stag parties would have never have been able to have visit such a place. In England what do we have and where can we go? I mean Blackpool these days is not the place that it was when granny used to go and sit on the beach with in her bathing suit and obligatory wind break, building sandcastles along with the other 20,000 joyous souls. I'm not saying that Tallinn of course even remotely resembles Blackpool, not at all. I mean this place is more like a very well preserved York. The city dates back to the year dot, and it’s nice to see that they mix old with new, I mean look at the subtle way that a new building can be absorbed so well by the city wall and its main gate into the old town, quite contemporary don’t you think?
Do those Estonians really enjoy playing host to groups of guys coming over here to piss on their town, drink all of the beer, causing mayhem?
Well, ask Sergio, he was happy enough to talk to me as I waited to get the bus to St Petersburg. It was 07:45 and Sergio was stuffing his face with something that resembled a Kebab, his last stop after a long night on the drink was the bus station where the bar here sells beer and Kebabs, helping create that welcome edgy feel to what should be a normal sedate Saturday morning.
“Blahski Blahski Blahski Blahski………?”
“Sorry, I don’t speak Russian”
“Ah, English……. Do I have any Kebab on my face?”
He was furiously demolishing this kebab, and he had chunks of it down his shirt and on his cheek. Maybe he had somewhere to go? Probably not, his eyes were glazed over and he looked fooked. Perhaps he was our bus driver? It wouldn’t surprise me.
“Where are you from?” he spat the kebab all over me
“Ah, you England, you like to party in Estonia, yes, we like you English.” Like hell they did.
“We like your England, you guys like to party in Estonia”
“So, where are you from?” he repeated.
I was bored of this, I had entertained Sergio for long enough, he had to go, he wasn’t a threat, just a straggler holding on to the last ounce of the previous night’s fun. He wasn’t alone, there were dozens of them. Masses of people littered around the city, still drinking, eating kebabs and making their way to the next destination, wherever that was.
So Mr Michael O’Leary, Sergio has given the English Party a big thumb up. Carry on.