Tallinn

We're waiting on a plane in Tallinn, on our way to Stockholm. The flight is one hour, and the time change is one hour, so it's almost like we depart and arrive simultaneously.

Tallinn is a place that's definitely worth visiting, but probably best visited on the weekend. The old town is where visitors will spend all of their time. It seems like an Epcot-version of a old, eastern-European town: it's tiny, there are kids walking around in authentic garb giving out free candied almonds, and there are themed restaurants (including, but not limited to 'Texas Honky Tonk Cantina' and 'Arizona Joe's Saloon'). Our hostel overlooked this second gem, but we never made it to ol' Arizona Joe's.

During the Great Depression in 1933, the kroon went off the gold standard.

Our first meal in town was at a Russian dumpling house. We picked out our dumplings from the vats, which cost about 30.00 EEK (by weight). We had no idea what Estonian currency was worth at this point, and thus had no idea whether we had been charged the unreasonably high 'tourist rate' for these dumplings or we just bought the world's cheapest bowl of Russian dumplings. It turns out that it was the latter: the dumplings were delicious and cost about three U.S. Dollars.

We took a ferry to Helsinki yesterday for the day. It rained for our first half hour in town, but was sunny and warm for the rest of the day. Next to the ferry terminal, we passed through a market with fresh produce and some prepared food. The specialty seemed to be some kind of salty fish with a pile of potatoes, both drenched in sour cream. We didn't partake, but it did look like it would be the perfect end to a day spent knee-deep in snow.

We wandered around the rest of the day, enjoyning the sun, and caught a fast ferry that had us back in Tallinn in time for a pancake dinner.

We're on the plane now, so the electronics have to be switched off. Next stop: Stockholm...

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The First Post-exam Weekend

I'm just getting off of a bus at Trafalgar Square, returning from a party thrown by one of my professors.

Trafalgar Square is completely packed with people, balloons, and Spanish flags to celebrate a Eurocup victory. Every car that passes around the square honks to add to the noise.

The 'town square futbol celebration' is quite a phenomenon on this side of the ocean. We were in Nice 8 years ago when France won the cup, and the public celebration was enthusiastic: burning furniture, a woman carrying a chicken around, et cetera. As you'd expect, being in France for a French victory was a little different than being in England for a Spanish victory; but I have to say, there was a pretty great showing tonight.

I guess it's been a pretty 'Spanish' weekend, with tonight's futbol match and the two-day Tapas Fantasticas festival out by Brick Lane. I'm happy to report that the tapas (and Rioja wines) were, as advertised, fantasticas.

Now, it's time to pack for a trip to Tallinn and Stockholm; we're catching the first Stansted Express from Liverpool Street at 4:10am.
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Nowhere to go, but North

TFL's super-smart idea tonight has been to shut down all southbound tube services. I mean, I guess it seems reasonable for a city government to keep the citizenry (or subjectship, as it were) on its collective toes by randomly cutting transport services: it'll only make us more resourceful in the long run.

But, at least I'm getting a chance to do something I don't do all that often: ride in the front seat on the second level of a big, red bus, face pressed against the windshield.

Exams finished yesterday, which couldn't have come any sooner. After the exam, all having survived the same ordeal and late nights at the library and more espresso than might reasonably be expected to be consumed over the entire course of a season of the Sopranos, we spent the entire day at Lincoln's Inn's Fields just enjoying each other's company.

The bus is arriving at Trafalgar Square, so until next time...
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Hiatus, Explained

Over a month has gone by without a post: shameful, I know.

You can expect a barrage of posts soon, but not for at least another 11 days, 9 hours, 54 minutes, and 5 seconds, which is when exam season finally ends.

Great Escape

There are three types of people on the streets of the west end at three o’clock: drunks, men in hyperreflective vests sweeping, and me.

My first (and only) assessed paper for this program is due in a few hours, and so yesterday lasted longer than days usually last. But while I made the finishing touches on this paper in the Masters study lounge last night, someone downstairs was locking the door (from the outside). When I finally decided to call it a night, I realized that I had no way of leaving. For a few minutes, I actually considered sleeping on the unintentionally retro chairs in the study lounge, but eventually decided against it.

Not wanting to kick open the door, as Chuck Norris might do, I looked for alternate options. What’s that old maxim? When one door closes, so opens a window? That’s not the case for the Philosophy department at LSE. The maxim would more accurately be: when one door is locked, and one attempts to exit a building in which he is trapped in the middle of the might, one ought not use a window, because he will trigger the building’s alarm.

I thought that leaving through a window was a reasonable course of action, considering that the only door to the building had been manually locked form the outside. [Which just seems like a horrible idea, especially because the building has a card-controlled, electronic lock system.] Well, as I leaned toward the window I’d chosen for my escape, I triggered the alarm, starting a barrage of bells, wails, buzzers, and flashing lights. I waited at the only door to the building for five minutes before realizing that no one was coming to open the door or to stop the wailing that was reverberating through the building (and campus). I made a call to campus security, who seemed shocked that there was an alarm going off on campus and that I was trapped in a building.

After twenty minutes, someone finally came. But, unfortunately, he didn’t have a key to the building. [Another horrible idea.] After enduring ten more minutes of the sirens, he returned with the key and freed me.

The Walk to Class

The Walk to Class

Gozo

We're on the ferry returning from our day trip to Gozo. We took a bus ride to the westernmost point on Malta to catch the ferry this morning. After just a few minutes on the bus, it started to rain. But within just a few minutes of our arrival on Gozo, the clouds melted away; the weather has been amazing ever since.

When we got off the ferry, there were dozens of cab drivers offering us €5 rides into Victoria (Gozo's main city). We almost took one, thinking we'd be able to navigate the island ourselves. Fortunately for us, Silvia found us before we had a chance to make that mistake. Silvia got us a driver for the day and a great itinerary. We climbed the tower of one of the islands basilicas, took in the ancient ruins of the Ggantija Temples, climbed through Calypso's Cave, 'made some pictures' at Marsalforn Bay, and saw the salt flats at the Dwejra Azure Window. The Azure Window is fantastic: it's one of those things that you only expect to see in travel brochures and never in person. I'm horrible at estimating distances, so it should suffice to say that this rock formation is massive. I imagine that if gods and giants played croquet, this would be the ideal wicket.

We're just pulling into port, so it's time to finish my Cisk and go downstairs to disembark.

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Mdina

We went to the Mdina yesterday (and no, there's no vowel missing from that word). I don't know why I expected any different, but I was surprised that it was just like Medinas in some nearby countries. There were high, white walls bordering the narrow streets which meandered and intersected in the most confusing manner possible. Luckily, the Mdina is small. Nearly-identical doors appeared infrequently; some concealed homes or shops, but others were hiding lush gardens from the passers by.

We had a light lunch (butter beans, sundried tomatoes, cheese from Gozo, Maltese sausages, some kind of eggplant compote/paste, and ricotta & herb ravioli) behind one of the Mdina's mysterious doors. Looking at the door to the cafe, it seemed like we could just as easily have been entering someone's house. When we did enter, though, we found two open-air dining areas and a lot of practical greenery. Why pratical greenery? All of the herbs and spices are grown the the vicinity of the dining tables.

We then headed to the cathedral. We elected to wait till after 15:00, when there was no entry charge. (Instead of the normal €2.33).
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