Tallinn, the capital of Estonia, is the only part of the former USSR that I include in my guidebooks and TV series. I put it in our Scandinavia guidebook because I love it — it’s so easy to reach from Helsinki (ferries leave hourly, it’s a 2-hour ride, no visas, and they’ll be on the euro in just a few months), and it provides a great contrast to the rest of Nordic Europe.
The Old Town — with the best-preserved medieval center in all of Nordic Europe — is quite comfortable now. In fact, it’s almost too comfortable. It’s Muzak hell: Billy Joel melodies done à la Kenny G are everywhere. At the same time, there’s an edge I really like. I ate dinner under rusty barbed-wire lampshades in the first pub to open after communism fell.
Its Russian-ness sharpens Tallinn’s edge. Estonia is one-third Russian — a leftover from when the Soviet Union planted Russians here in an attempt to do to Estonia what China is doing to Tibet. While China is succeeding, Russia did not dilute Estonia into oblivion. Today Estonia is strong — but with a tough Russian minority that resists assimilation. Strolling through the Russian market, you feel tension. They are clearly the poor minority. And young Russian men can often make me uncomfortable. Their lives are tough. As I was passing a group of young Russians with heads nearly shaved bald, one of their phones rang. His ringtone was the sound of gunshots.
On my visit last year, I was charmed by the Estonian tradition of burying loved ones in forests. Wandering in a dense pine forest with well-cared-for tombs scattered all around, I thought this would be great for our TV show, and included it in our script.
This year, I returned with a script that read, “You feel the connection to their land and heritage at the forested Estonian cemeteries. Estonia is a thickly forested country and, for many, they see trees as almost spiritual.” Then I planned for my guide to say, as he’d told me last year, “This is our forest cemetery. Since ancient pagan times, we Estonians have buried our loved ones with the trees. We are people of the trees. This is one way we are still connected with our pagan past…still uniquely Estonian.” But it felt a little forced. While he could say it to one tourist, looking into a TV camera, he hedged and squirmed. I decided to leave it out of the show.
Still, we ended up with a great new show called “Tallinn and Helsinki: Baltic Sisters.” As I figured last year, each one is not substantial enough to make a blockbuster script individually, but a show split between these two fascinating cities is very full and strong.
Finishing our work in Estonia, we wrapped the last show of our new series. It’ll air this October.