Nothingness enveloped the world. The view was shrouded in white, wisps of unformed fingers curled and coalesced against no horizon. And then, piercing through the quilted formlessness, a single black spine reached upwards. Slowly, Tallinn emerged from the fog – a faery tale come to life - the spires of the city’s old town cathedrals and castle walls materializing out of nowhere. It was more than magic – it was history and fantasy combined.
After a beautiful walk past dandelioned lots near the port terminal, we entered the old town. It’s not so much a maze of cobblestoned streets as it is a stream of constantly flowing alleys and avenues that all turn back on themselves and all eventually flow together into the central square. The town’s architecture, a consistent 400 years of Hanseatic influence, aren’t suspended in time either like other walled medieval towns I’ve been to – rather they are vibrantly alive with Estonian pride and culture.
This old town is still very much redefining itself – the day we arrived there was a cross-country ski race around the main church – they had made snow across the courtyard for the late May competition. The square was alive with people having afternoon lunch or a beer in the many gasthaus style outdoor sitting areas. And tourists aside, the town was awash with activity and life, all going about their business in this magnificent, ancient town.Everyone we met spoke beautiful English, or put up with my passable German.
The prices in Tallinn are decent – not as staggering as other Scandinavian ports of call, and not as bad as St Petersburg (that was a surprise!), and deals could be found at some of the side stalls, numerous artist galleries and market areas. Obviously, the worst deals were at any permanent stores conveniently located for tourists to stumble into. But we did find a number of fun items that we’ve earmarked for future purchase. And I’m very much looking forward to getting to know the streets of Tallinn over the next five months.
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Bad Blogger. No Q-ookie.
I’ve been a bad blogger. It’s been twelve days , or the exactly length of one cruise, since I’ve written last. But rather than apologize – I do have good reasons. You see, Kristin and I had the grave undue pleasure of being quarantined. Yes, the Q-word. There are little buggles than run around the ship from time to time, and if you’re lucky enough to catch one, they stick you in your cabin for three days. Minimum. Now – we weren’t Q-ed for all twelve days – we did get off in Tallinn, St. Petersburg, and Stockholm – but I’m going to save those for separate blogs. We did however have to spend an eternity of those 72 hours in our cabin – and we watched every DVD we own twice. And with the director’s commentaries.
My new recommendation for favorite TV series is the beautifully crafted ‘Firefly’ by Joss Whedon. Those of you turned off by vapid writing, or the fan-frothing sci-fi series such as Star Trek, or the abysmal cgi-world of the latest Star Wars movies, then you will have a refreshing chance to see what science fiction can really be like with ‘Firefly’. The unfortunate thing is that Fox canned the series after only 13 episodes – so it definitely leaves you wanting more. There is a big screen continuation with the movie ‘Serenity’, but it’s more of a “Here’s what we would have done, given another ten episodes” rather than a real extension of the world. The writing is crisp, the dialogue witty and funny, and the future world that they created was superbly new in its scope and inspiration from present day real world developments. But the caveat are the characters – beautifully crafted real people: not black and white tin-types as most sci-fi goes – but true, grey, stuck in real moral dilemmas that they don’t get out of from time to time. As an actor, it made me supremely jealous – and then listening to the commentaries on the DVD and hearing how well the writer/director Joss Whedon got along with his actors, and their rapport with him, was truly refreshing.T
he weather along the Baltic route has improved – the sea is glassy and calm – and the sun is shining most of the time. Even yesterday’s jaunt in Germany started off grey and rainy, and then the sun broke through while we were having lunch in downtown Rostock. I love Germany – it’s a great place to check in with every twelve days on this strange little odyssey we’ve undertaken.
My new recommendation for favorite TV series is the beautifully crafted ‘Firefly’ by Joss Whedon. Those of you turned off by vapid writing, or the fan-frothing sci-fi series such as Star Trek, or the abysmal cgi-world of the latest Star Wars movies, then you will have a refreshing chance to see what science fiction can really be like with ‘Firefly’. The unfortunate thing is that Fox canned the series after only 13 episodes – so it definitely leaves you wanting more. There is a big screen continuation with the movie ‘Serenity’, but it’s more of a “Here’s what we would have done, given another ten episodes” rather than a real extension of the world. The writing is crisp, the dialogue witty and funny, and the future world that they created was superbly new in its scope and inspiration from present day real world developments. But the caveat are the characters – beautifully crafted real people: not black and white tin-types as most sci-fi goes – but true, grey, stuck in real moral dilemmas that they don’t get out of from time to time. As an actor, it made me supremely jealous – and then listening to the commentaries on the DVD and hearing how well the writer/director Joss Whedon got along with his actors, and their rapport with him, was truly refreshing.T
he weather along the Baltic route has improved – the sea is glassy and calm – and the sun is shining most of the time. Even yesterday’s jaunt in Germany started off grey and rainy, and then the sun broke through while we were having lunch in downtown Rostock. I love Germany – it’s a great place to check in with every twelve days on this strange little odyssey we’ve undertaken.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Germany on to the Baltic Proper
Warnemunde is a delightful town. Long, wide sandy beaches, a café lined promenade filled with old world Germanic charm, a cute little downtown area with a small brick church, and back alleys cobblestoned and gardened as far as the neck can bend.
Shame it was rainy and grey – a not uncommon condition on the Baltic. Early May is definitely not beach weather this far north.At least we’ll get twelve more chances over the course of the summer to see it once it’s warmed up a little. But for all its Hanseatic League coastal charm, we covered the town pretty quickly in the afternoon we had. Once we return, we’ll definitely be taking the train to Rostock, and after that, probably an excursion to Berlin and Hamburg.
We are sailing to Helsinki today, a bright white and emerald green water day, having switched the itinerary from Tallinn due to protests taking place in the city for the last few weeks. Apparently, tomorrow is the anniversary of the end of hostilities of WWII, and a major ceremony was supposed to take place over the Russian tomb of the unknown soldier. Only problem, the Estonians decided that the Soviet era statue to fallen Russian soldiers was a little too prominent smack downtown, so they moved it to a cemetery outside of town. This of course inflamed the ethnic Russians in Estonia. There have been a few protests and small riots over the matter, so rather than be in town on what might be a troublesome day, they decided to switch days with Helsinki. That’s probably a good call. I can’t think of anything offhand the Finns might riot over.
But two shows tonight – and sunset isn’t until 9.30. So it’ll be light for all of one, and mostly light for the other. Land of the midnight lit show, here we come.
Shame it was rainy and grey – a not uncommon condition on the Baltic. Early May is definitely not beach weather this far north.At least we’ll get twelve more chances over the course of the summer to see it once it’s warmed up a little. But for all its Hanseatic League coastal charm, we covered the town pretty quickly in the afternoon we had. Once we return, we’ll definitely be taking the train to Rostock, and after that, probably an excursion to Berlin and Hamburg.
We are sailing to Helsinki today, a bright white and emerald green water day, having switched the itinerary from Tallinn due to protests taking place in the city for the last few weeks. Apparently, tomorrow is the anniversary of the end of hostilities of WWII, and a major ceremony was supposed to take place over the Russian tomb of the unknown soldier. Only problem, the Estonians decided that the Soviet era statue to fallen Russian soldiers was a little too prominent smack downtown, so they moved it to a cemetery outside of town. This of course inflamed the ethnic Russians in Estonia. There have been a few protests and small riots over the matter, so rather than be in town on what might be a troublesome day, they decided to switch days with Helsinki. That’s probably a good call. I can’t think of anything offhand the Finns might riot over.
But two shows tonight – and sunset isn’t until 9.30. So it’ll be light for all of one, and mostly light for the other. Land of the midnight lit show, here we come.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Deutschland!
We are on the Kiel Canal – having just passed under the first bridge of seven. Apparently, the Dream is the largest boat that can access the canal, and we just literally saw why – we cleared the bridge by about three feet. Not kidding.
We entered the canal a few hours ago, and were piloted into the lock by several little German tugboats. Once in, we were joined on the top central outside deck by the local Feuerweg Zug Band – or the fireman’s band. They are mightly oom-pah-pahing away as I write this, and I had to have a German beer to mark the occasion. The only thing missing is a schweinbrot or wurst with mustard in my other hand. They’ll play onboard for the next eight hours or so that we’re on the canal.
The countryside is pastoral, green, and orderly in that way that the Germans perfected and patented. There is something comforting about the German countryside, something that I remember very well from my childhood. The rows of trees, the gently rolling yellow and green fields, no space wasted – there are always sheep, or cows, or horses, tucked into every little corner. Here up north, there are also windmills – giant white Quixote-defying modern mills – that only add to the feeling of order and care. Just one of those mills generates enough electricity to power who knows how many homes – and it’s green, and very abundant here on the edge of the North Sea.
Back in Germany. And ‘Bring back my Bonny to Me’ plays in the background. Das ist Super Toll!
We entered the canal a few hours ago, and were piloted into the lock by several little German tugboats. Once in, we were joined on the top central outside deck by the local Feuerweg Zug Band – or the fireman’s band. They are mightly oom-pah-pahing away as I write this, and I had to have a German beer to mark the occasion. The only thing missing is a schweinbrot or wurst with mustard in my other hand. They’ll play onboard for the next eight hours or so that we’re on the canal.
The countryside is pastoral, green, and orderly in that way that the Germans perfected and patented. There is something comforting about the German countryside, something that I remember very well from my childhood. The rows of trees, the gently rolling yellow and green fields, no space wasted – there are always sheep, or cows, or horses, tucked into every little corner. Here up north, there are also windmills – giant white Quixote-defying modern mills – that only add to the feeling of order and care. Just one of those mills generates enough electricity to power who knows how many homes – and it’s green, and very abundant here on the edge of the North Sea.
Back in Germany. And ‘Bring back my Bonny to Me’ plays in the background. Das ist Super Toll!
Saturday, May 5, 2007
The Promised Photo Blog
Finally! Here are a few pics!
The Dream. And Us. In Belize.
The Easter Bunny on board the Dream.
Sunset from the Dream.
It's my Birthday.
And I'm sitting in the Prince Albert pub in Dover, England, watching Manchester Utd. play football.
And of course, I've got a pint of bitter in my hand. It's making typing a little difficult, but there it is.
We start the journey in earnest tomorrow: off to the Kiel canal, then Tallinn.
But most of the cast is here, we're drinking, chatting, and the birthday celebration has begun.
Cheers!
And of course, I've got a pint of bitter in my hand. It's making typing a little difficult, but there it is.
We start the journey in earnest tomorrow: off to the Kiel canal, then Tallinn.
But most of the cast is here, we're drinking, chatting, and the birthday celebration has begun.
Cheers!
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Rare Ould Times to the White Cliffs
A few days catch up is needed, my apologies. Between being sick, and then having extra late rehearsals to get our new acrobat into the shows, things have been busy.We landed at Cobh, Ireland, Kristin and my first time together on the Isle. Cobh is a darling little coastal town – the official port for Cork. Lots of Georgian row houses, and brightly colored townhomes, and a rather Gothic ‘Mary of the Sea’ cathedral overlooking the whole town. There is not much to do, especially on a Sunday, but we managed to find a good seedy pub, named ‘Ryans’, and had a pint before going grocery shopping for such absolute necessities as Irish cheddar and orange juice.
We then steamed off for Dublin. I was amazed at how crowded it has really become – many Irish friends of mine have mentioned this in passing, but I was figuring it was an exaggeration, especially as we can compare it to New York. But it has gotten insanely crowded. Even on a Monday, the amount of foot traffic in the old was more than comparable to New York, even more so on some lanes. But we walked all over, one the great things about Dublin. I found a fantastic grey wool tweed jacket, and Kristin purchased a great brown suede jacket, for about half of what it would have cost in new York. Not that Dublin isn’t expensive, though –it is - we just happened across a great little thrift store on a side lane.
My Dublin from the mid nineties is all but gone, I’m sad to say. Much like the clean up New York experienced in the same time period, it seems the darker edge of Dublin is a fading memory. Temple Bar has lost a good number of its pubs to bistro type restaurants, and you can no longer carouse from pub to pub outside with the same pint glass. Alas, the rare ould times are indeed done. I do miss the energy, but like New York, you trade some loss for the good – I don’t think I’d trade the new times square for the old one, but something has been lost – and New York’s most famous square does resemble a mall in the middle of America now more than ever. Dublin hasn’t crossed that line yet, there is too much history all about, but I did notice that it felt more cosmopolitan, more generally European, than it did before. I saw no gypsy tinker children playing tin whistle on the corners, far fewer drunk story tellers calling out for another pint from a stool at the end of the bar. Indeed, as prices gouge away at our beloved East Village in New York, turning it into the last hold out for true New York characters, Dublin’s old town seems to have been gouged already – huge high rise condos and new buildings ring the edge of the old town now. Hopefully, there is still a place for the story tellers – we didn’t have enough time to hunt them down in our half-day in Dublin – but one where the stories abound, and an older, gentler, and less bustling Dublin allowed for a breath between swallows of Guinness.
Le Havre came the next day, and we had a lovely walk about the town. It’s a post-modern French town – mostly rebuilt after the War, but a lovely one nonetheless. It has a great beach front, and we walked all about. Unfortunately, our desire to find a great café for a fantastic French lunch was thwarted by our timing – we arrived in town just in time for the afternoon rest. So by the time we had to leave, the cafes still were not serving. Alas, we consoled ourselves by buying several more pounds of French cheese and a baguette, and made our way back.Dover – our new home port of call – was today. The cliffs are impressive, as is Dover castle sitting above it all. The town is a little lackluster – as is the port. But it’s going to be interesting coming back here for our base of operations every twelve days. We get two more new cast members day after tomorrow – our Adage couple that we rehearsed with the Florida is joining us again. And that means: more rehearsals! One three day quick cruise – and then we are off to Germany.
We then steamed off for Dublin. I was amazed at how crowded it has really become – many Irish friends of mine have mentioned this in passing, but I was figuring it was an exaggeration, especially as we can compare it to New York. But it has gotten insanely crowded. Even on a Monday, the amount of foot traffic in the old was more than comparable to New York, even more so on some lanes. But we walked all over, one the great things about Dublin. I found a fantastic grey wool tweed jacket, and Kristin purchased a great brown suede jacket, for about half of what it would have cost in new York. Not that Dublin isn’t expensive, though –it is - we just happened across a great little thrift store on a side lane.
My Dublin from the mid nineties is all but gone, I’m sad to say. Much like the clean up New York experienced in the same time period, it seems the darker edge of Dublin is a fading memory. Temple Bar has lost a good number of its pubs to bistro type restaurants, and you can no longer carouse from pub to pub outside with the same pint glass. Alas, the rare ould times are indeed done. I do miss the energy, but like New York, you trade some loss for the good – I don’t think I’d trade the new times square for the old one, but something has been lost – and New York’s most famous square does resemble a mall in the middle of America now more than ever. Dublin hasn’t crossed that line yet, there is too much history all about, but I did notice that it felt more cosmopolitan, more generally European, than it did before. I saw no gypsy tinker children playing tin whistle on the corners, far fewer drunk story tellers calling out for another pint from a stool at the end of the bar. Indeed, as prices gouge away at our beloved East Village in New York, turning it into the last hold out for true New York characters, Dublin’s old town seems to have been gouged already – huge high rise condos and new buildings ring the edge of the old town now. Hopefully, there is still a place for the story tellers – we didn’t have enough time to hunt them down in our half-day in Dublin – but one where the stories abound, and an older, gentler, and less bustling Dublin allowed for a breath between swallows of Guinness.
Le Havre came the next day, and we had a lovely walk about the town. It’s a post-modern French town – mostly rebuilt after the War, but a lovely one nonetheless. It has a great beach front, and we walked all about. Unfortunately, our desire to find a great café for a fantastic French lunch was thwarted by our timing – we arrived in town just in time for the afternoon rest. So by the time we had to leave, the cafes still were not serving. Alas, we consoled ourselves by buying several more pounds of French cheese and a baguette, and made our way back.Dover – our new home port of call – was today. The cliffs are impressive, as is Dover castle sitting above it all. The town is a little lackluster – as is the port. But it’s going to be interesting coming back here for our base of operations every twelve days. We get two more new cast members day after tomorrow – our Adage couple that we rehearsed with the Florida is joining us again. And that means: more rehearsals! One three day quick cruise – and then we are off to Germany.
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