Kalamaja
For the last 55 years in the Desert Southwest, I've needed no more than a loincloth (well, cargo shorts) and sandals. So this is a very strange world indeed. Today before heading out I watched a video on how to tie a scarf.
Rather than head toward the city's ancient center on my first full day in Tallinn, I decided to explore my neighborhood of Kalamaja, which only a week ago I learned was pronounced kal-uh-MY-uh ― the last two syllables resembling the first name of the poet Angelou. The landlord said that a mere 10 years ago the area was a slum ― his words ― but things happen quickly in Estonia, which until 1991 was part of the USSR.
Kalamaja's clapboard houses date to the late 19th century after the railway to St. Petersburg was laid. Enormous factories sprang up in northwestern Tallinn, and their workers needed a place to live. I guess when Finnair provided wooden utensils with their meals I should have known I was headed to Wood Country. Everything is built like a sauna.
Here are some photos I took today.
I love the Olympus 45mm lens. This bird was booking and it still produced a decent capture.
"Merekindlus" roughly means "sea protection," and this fortress was built to protect stuff from ocean invaders. It later served as a Soviet prison that was not decommissioned until 2004. My god, these disentaglements take time, don't they. There are big development plans, so stay tuned.
I finally reach the water's edge. This is the Gulf of Finland, an eastern-pointing finger of the Baltic Sea. Helsinki is 51 miles north, St. Petersburg 239 miles east, and Stockholm 265 miles west. I can hear seagulls make their squeaky cries outside my apartment window.
