More than a year ago we arrived with our bikes at Lennart Meri airport, where family and a friend met us, and drove us into western Tallinn to unpack. A cycleway took us into town to check into our apartment in Telliskivi, the capital’s creative district, to then return on the bikes to the Mägis for a barbecue. Hospitality is the best thing about Estonia, and I remember that long summer evening of animated conversation and kids running about as if it were yesterday.
80 years ago at the time of writing our grandmother and father fled Estonia ahead of the Soviet occupation, as did so many other Estonians. A memorial to the Big Flight was unveiled last month in Pärnu, thanks significantly to the efforts of the Estonian American National Council.
To reflect now on the best Estonia has to offer, and it is a long list, the first draft scribbled down at the sheds at Altja, Lahemaa National Park, towards the end of our trip:
The northern Baltic coast – erratic boulders and dry pine forests, good camping among the trees, and swimming where there is sand.
Lahemaa National Park
Berry picking and foraging for mushrooms – the dry floors of Baltic pine forests (nõmmemets) are full of blueberries during the summer; we also picked juicy blackberries in hedgerows, and chased after yellow chanterelles in spruce forests.
Saunas and summer houses – we had 10 sauna experiences while in Estonia, many of them at a suvila, living the cultural practices of our ancestors.
Rye bread – no meal is complete without a slice or two of dark, moist, rich and tasty leiba.
The flatness and big skies – ideal for cycling and camping, the Great Bear often visible at night.
Sacred trees – in venerating the past, Estonia’s history continues in an unbroken line from the arrival of our ancestors who arrived more than 3000 years ago into the Baltic region.
Old farmhouses – steep-pitched roofs atop buildings built of pine logs; it is the fashion to restore them, along with the sauna house, granary, well and cellar.
Language and literature – learning the Estonian tongue is hard work for an English speaker, though a channel like no other into an ancient culture.
Museums – all we visited were well presented, informative, interesting, ranging from the last ice age and on forests, to various tours through Estonian history, including the re-independence.
Information boards – they are everywhere, usually in Estonian, English and German, always interesting and informative, and occasionally, quirky.
Bogs, alvars, wooded meadows – Estonia abounds in post-glacial ecosystems, to delight the botanist, the berry picker, and admirer of juniper stands.
Drumlins and lakes between them in Vooremaa northeast of Tartu, a living relic of the last ice age, a link to our ancestors of ancient times.
Mediaeval town centres – Tallinn, Tartu and Viljandi excel like many other European centres in bringing the Mediaeval past to life.
The gently rolling hills around Otepää – holding the promise of snow and cross-country skiing in winter, where our grandfather was raised.
Birdlife – waterfowl, cranes, storks and ravens greeted us as we cycled along, and we could hear woodpeckers in the forests - birds out of fairy tales.
Lighthouses and viewing towers – offering wide vistas across sparsely populated and forested landscapes in every direction and out to sea.
Estonian food – in the main, we found the summer fare delicious, fish or meat with boiled potatoes, cucumber and tomato salad, and freshly marinated cucumbers.
The seasons – during our 6 weeks in Estonia the days shortened by more 90 minutes at each end of the day; by late August the cranes were gathering by the hundreds in rye stubble, ready to fly.
Ancient art and crafts – windmills, boats carved from a single log, woven woollen belts, Viking era broach and clasp designs, patterned woollen socks, all echoing an era before successive invasions interrupted Estonian freedom, traditions that survived the centuries and are still alive today.
That’s the list, for now. Fifty blog posts into the Finding Estonia project, and it is time to take stock, to consider why I write all this, and continue to write. This son and grandson of war refugees has lived most of life in Aotearoa New Zealand, a country at a crossroads – whether to remain a democracy despite an impetus for greater Māori self-determination, or to evolve into an ethno-nationalist state. Perhaps, I, too, am in a state of evolution, whether to move with NZ, or return to my roots, or both.
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