Text 14265, 74 rader
Skriven 2011-08-02 19:41:00 av MICHAEL LOO (1:123/140)
Ärende: june trip report 690
============================
Breakfast at this hotel is included and no bargain for that.
Probably the most palatable thing is the muesli, though you
can get cold American-style cereal, yogurt, toast and jam,
and some of the saddest fruit in Christendom. Juice is
watery. Nonetheless, it provids enough strength to get
through the morning.

And now for something completely different.

Out east of downtown is the Kadriorga district, which
consists of genteel old homes, museums, a big park, and
the president's palace (not open to the public).

We took the tram to its end, which is the edge of the big
park, whence we walked to the Kadriorg Palace; this holds
mostly 18th-19th century lesser masters but also some
important Flemish paintings, including the Bridal Procession
by Pieter Breughel the Younger (I think). Also there's a
traveling exhibition space, which was devoted to Orthodox
ikons when we were there. The gardens are small but nice,
with a couple Classically-inspired sculpted fountains where
a more ostentatious ruler might have had twenty. Then across
the road to the Mikkel museum, an eccentric collection of
18th-19th century European stuff, 20th century indigenous
painting, and Ch'ing porcelain. Oh, yes, a room on the
ground floor dedicated to more ikons, from the olden days
through to the 20th century. Up the hill, past the
presidential palace, to KUMU, whose collection traces the
history of Estonian art from its German- and Russian-
influenced days through Socialist Realism and to the present
day. Some interesting stuff, especially the more modern
multimedia works, though some struck me as self-indulgent
charlatanism. We had time before lunch to visit Peter the
Great's cottage, his original Estonian residence, before
Kadriorg was built - quite a contrast.

The tram, a different one by way of experiment, set us down
right by Pushkin, where we decided to lunch. I had a plate
of salo (Ukrainian lard) that unfortunately had seen better
days; also a tongue sandwich, zakuski-style, that was much
more presentable. Lilli, ever adventurous, had a ham and
cheese omelet. Mediocre red wine and a glass of malty,
almost soy-saucy Saku dark. On the way back into the old
city we passed a bar that offered all the beer you can
drink between 10 am and 2 pm for E10. I resolved to return
someday, in a more timely way, with more macho company.

Just south of old town is the new shopping mall Solaris,
at one end of which is the Nokia Concert Hall; this night
it featured an all Rachmaninov concert by the Russian
National Orchestra; we went to the box office, where we
were shown an almost completely full seating chart, the
only seats together in the double nosebleed section. How
much? The kid said sixty-five Euro each. Sixty-five? I
asked in stupid incredulity, as that's real money. He
affirmed: E65 a ticket. I regretfully told him that that
was too rich for my blood, and we left. It was not until
a day later that I tumbled to the possibility that he
might have meant E6 point 5.

We went tram-hopping, as we had day passes. Outside the
city, it seems there's not much to see - the outskirts
look like most other outskirts. These might be slightly
more depressing than usual, as the Soviets didn't waste
their top architects on worker housing in the hinterlands.
At length our tummies began to remind us of their emptiness,
and having saved vast sums by eschewing that concert, I
took Lilli to a very leisurely dinner at Olevi, in one of
the hotels up a block or two from St. Olaf's church
(hence the name).

___ Blue Wave/386 v2.30
--- Platinum Xpress/Win/WINServer v3.0pr5
 * Origin: Since 1991 And Were Still Here! DOCSPLACE.TZO.COM (1:123/140)