The two and a half litre heart of our van never starts first time, it is a precise calculation to get the clutch in, and the gas pedal in the perfect position before the old girl finally roars into life. It is a practice that Luke and I have been doing since we broke down in Sweden, but one that still cause us a little agitation and worry.
We left Tallinn on a perfectly Sunny day and headed south, our first stop was to be in a large campsite, bury deep in the forests that shroud that west coast of this small nation.
From there we are headed to Parnu, a port town, sitting in its own natural bay with an impressively wide river running right through it.
The roads in Estonia are most probably not this country’s greatest accomplishment, nor is the reserved nature of most people and the way that they stare – but that may have to do with the fact that we are driving a bright red van, with British number-plates and that the driver is sat on the wrong side, not to mention the fact that the “LDV Convoy” badge is hardly ever seen by most Europeans.
We found out though that this reserved nature and staring is not all that Estonian townsfolk are about.
An evening hunt for a meal led us into a small restaurant, sitting just below ground level, though with an appetising menu and full tables.
Our entrance was noted by a tall man in beige, beige trousers, beige shirt, beige sandals. We have – to this day – no idea if he was actually connected in any way to the restaurant, yet he motioned us towards a table near the bar and delighted in telling us that his step father was from an unpronounceable place in Wales. Eventually, after some careful listening and countless repetitions we found out that it was Aberystwyth, see totally unpronounceable!
We were then served up a cup of tea (well we are English, so it was only natural to give the English people tea) and waited for the menu’s to arrive.
Which is where it all went wrong.
A group of men, probably about late 30′s, all wearing the typical leather jackets and jeans, that seems to be a fashion left here from previous days, entered the restaraunt.
The younger of the men walked over to the centre table and picked up a microphone. Yes, ladies and gentlemen we had found ourselves a karaoke night.
This seems to be the latest craze – from the ferry across to Tallinn to almost every second bar everyone wants a piece of the action, if only singing lessons had been part of the soviet education program then perhaps Luke and I would be spared this horrific ordeal, for none can sing – of course that’s part of the fun of Karaoke they say.
But what stupendifies me is that these people, whom on the street are so reserved, quiet and usually avoid eye contact, unlike many other European nations, yes these people just walk into a bar and without so much as a sip of a beer are willing to stand up and sing in front of everyone.
Of course it is late now and the chances of getting any food here are growing ever more remote so Luke and I head off in another direction.
Looking round the streets of Parnu gives you an insight into the crazy nation that is Estonia, there is not so many modern buildings as there are in the capital of Tallinn, but just enough that you realise that this is a country on the up. A few small reminders still linger from years past that are now simply nothing more than quirky reminders of a bygone era – although it is still slightly strange that a “long established business” here still advertises itself as being set up in only 1992, a fact highlighted by Estonia’s oldest pub, the “Hell Hunt – since 1992″
I have fallen in love with Estonia’s weirdness, but you will not see me on the karaoke machine for a few more years… or a few more beers.
Well it is now time to breath some life into our express delivery van, as we are off to Riga, in yet another new country… Latvia.
