11-12/2023

Leaving Sillamae, we started westward, away from Russia. We’ve felt its presence on the last 2 stops.  Russian being the main language, people looking more Russian (whatever that is) and the sheer proximity. 

The plan was to stop at two waterfalls in the northern coasts cliffs … the tallest and the widest. The tallest, Valaste, was a damp squib. Actually, not damp at all. It was dry. I’m sure it’s spectacular in winter when torrents race through, or when the spray freezes on trees.  J and C declined to descend the 376 steps down to the beach. Followed by the 376 steps ascent. I deserved that ice cream after, even if it wasn’t a very good one.

Much of the north coast was a USSR military defence zone. We passed some derelict military buildings later. This area is now national parks, and there are walks along the coast. Despite this, we decided we could live without seeing the widest waterfall!

We drove directly to one of the peninsulars of the Lahemaa National Park … the Parispea Penisula. I’m sure pronouncing it Paris-pea must be incorrect. This is Estonia’s most northerly point.

We struck up a a conversation with a young Estonian. His parents had bought their forest house just after independence for about €15,000. He talked about the ‘them and us’ … Russian speakers who don’t speak Estonian. Segregated schools and living areas. The female prime minister had started an initiative to make all kindergartens Estonian speaking to further integration. The flaw is that there are insufficient teachers. We’ve since learnt that the PM is in the mire for loaning her husband money… he runs a company in Russia. I’d read that the government was concerned that Estonians wouldn’t have the will to fight a Russian invasion. His response was one word. NATO.

We stayed there overnight. It’s a permitted forestry camping spot with small bins and compost toilets. The main carpark had about 6 campers in it, so we stayed in the one just a bit back on our own. It was pitch black at night with some fab stars.

The next morning, we stopped at Viinistu on the P-pea Penisula (chortle). It’s a tiny hamlet with a decent art gallery in a former fish processing collective, restaurant and hotel. All Estonian artists from C18 to present day. It was set up by Jaan Manitski who had fled Estonia as a baby with his parents to Vienna, Finland, and then Sweden. Made his fortune as the financial manager for ABBA! He lived in exile until independence. He was a mushroom farmer, co-owner of a daily newspaper and politician – Minister of Foreign Affairs 1992. He established the art gallery in 2003. Would like him at a dinner party!