Tallinn's Turn

R ising on the southern shore of the Finnish Gulf, Tallinn, the capital of Estonia, looks like a fanciful illustration straight out of the most imaginative travel guide with its unique architectural heritage, and it feels lighthearted—where else has independence been achieved through a Singing Revolution?

The passing millennia have left their unmistakable marks on this historic town, forged by many cultures and ideologies. The Russians, the Swedes, the Danes, the Germans, the Poles, the Finns, and even the Arabs have had their say in the story of this town.

Tallinn’s very name is a derivative from the town’s colorful but uneasy history: Taani means Danish and linn means city. In the Twelfth Century, the Arab cartographer Al Idrys inscribed Tallinn on his map and named it Kolyvan, with the note that this place was a “seasonal stronghold,” while the German Hansa, a powerful mercantile order, validated it as an important port between the West and the East. The German influence is perhaps best expressed in the saying I heard recently that Tallinn is “the most beautiful German city in the world.” This proves to be an apt description, for seemingly cut right out of the deepest Bavaria, Tallinn’s most notable feature is the steeples, spirals, pinnacles, towers and turrets that dominate the Old Town silhouette. Adding a Tirolian as well as a Gustavian effect, the old houses are half-timbered and painted in pastels, and further decorated with brightly frescoed turrets, gables, and pediments. Even the sunny South shines in the lineup of red pantiled, steeply hipped roofs, best viewed from the Toompea Hill from where the entire Old Town is on display.

The Tsarist Russian influence is evident in such buildings as the Alexander Nevski Cathedral with its typical Russian Orthodox cupolas and spindles and colorful, gilded ornamentation throughout.

This profusion of styles, colors and ideologies might seem baffling, but it all works into a fascinating and pleasurable cohesive commentary on the town’s tug-a-war history.

A stroll along the narrow, Medieval streets is the best way to take in the living history of this town. It’s easy to know when History has entered Today: the asphalt streets modulate into cobble stone, the turn-of-the-century functionalistic square edifices give way to 14th-century Gothic stone buildings, and the town’s business people are replaced by strolling, camera-toting tourists. But the best signal is the massive town fortifications with their surviving 19 towers. There used to be 66 of them—a clear commentary on Tallinn’s turbulent past. Many of the renovated towers serve as museums, such as Kiek in de Kök (“Peep in the Kitchen”!), or restaurants, including Hellemani torn and Neitsitorn.

Another historical landmark is Lossi plats, or Castle Square, flanked by the seat of Estonian government at Toompea Castle and the 19th-century symbol of the Tsar’s rule in Estonia, Alexander Nevski Cathedral. A considerable climb along Pikk jalg, one of Tallinn’s venerable old narrow hillside streets, leads to this highest ground in town with lookout points that offer breathtaking views. This is the sacred birthplace of Tallinn, where the Danish Knights of the Sword built a fortress in 1219. The castle itself is actually a 20th-century building with an Art Nouveau façade rising from the foundations of a medieval convent.

A dozen or so churches are responsible for Tallinn’s whimsical skyline of steeples and spires. The oldest church in Estonia is Toomkirik or Dome Church and dates back to the 13th Century when the first wave of Danish forces made their presence known. The interior proudly bears the marks of both Gothic and Baroque period renovations. Upon entering, it’s customary to step on the tomb of one Otto Johann Thuve, whose last wish was to have his grave placed precisely there so that through the humiliation of being trampled upon he might redeem his soul from all the frivalous merrymaking he was so fond of during his life.

If the living museum of the Old Town is not enough, the town offers numerous exhibits of art and artifacts. History comes to life—and the present day stays in touch—in Tallinn’s numerous museums and art galleries. There are some twenty museums scattered about, each presenting tantalizing stories and memorabilia. A visit to Raekoja (Town Hall) is a must, not only for its contents, but for its own history. An imposing Gothic edifice, it has kept watch over the Raekoja plats, or Town Hall Square, the real hub of Tallinn’s civic life since 1404. The people of Tallinn still gather on the square to enjoy their cappuccinos prepared with their very own Kalev chocolate.

More of today’s Tallinn at its best can be viewed just inside the ancient city wall, tucked in the crevices and nooks of the stone structure: the street is chock full of modern-day Estonian expressions of creative handicrafts. This is the place to buy hand-woven linen towels, bath robes, shirts, and table cloths. Beautifully patterned sweaters, fashioned out of wool or flax, are displayed in careful arrangements, and drawings and etchings of city views hang on home-made display boards. Prices are competitive and always negotiable.

All the architectural and artistic treasures find a fitting counterpoint in the country’s rich musical tradition. Estonian music is vibrant and individual, adhering to the definition of Anders Mustonen, the owner-director of Hortus Musicus, a twelve-instrument ensemble of Medieval and Renaissance minstrelsy. According to him, music has to be “honest, sincere, from the heart.” Curiously, it was the singing “from the heart,” performed at the Tallinn Song Festival in 1988, that patterned the basis for the ensuing peaceful demonstrations. Responding to the distant echoes of the first public expression of Estonian nationalistic awakening in the form of a song festival held in Tartu in 1869, the modern generation gathered by the hundreds of thousands on the same festival grounds to incite that national feeling that had been silent so long. This was the birth of the so-called Singing Revolution that ultimately lead to Estonia’s modern-day independence.

Tallinn offers a menu of varieties to please even the most demanding connoisseur of tourism. I am yet to meet a traveller who has come back disappointed—or hungry. Restaurants and cafes abound with local and imported delicacies. The only lamentations seem to come from some foreigners living here, who complain that they can’t find frozen spinach or marshmallows in Tallinn. I, on the other hand, had no gastronomic complaints on my visit: forgoing the enticings to enjoy a juustuburger de lux offered at the Golden Arches, I lunched at my favorite type of restaurant—Mexican, with a definite Estonian twist: the popular drink here was the all-Estonian höögvein, a local mulled wine. Terviseks!

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