A hectic day in Tallinn, meeting the finance minister, representatives of the port authority and educationalists, together with a visit to the Estonian Parliament where, ironically enough, they were voting for two new deputy speakers. The vote was over and done with in five minutes; I doubt whether Michael Martin’s successor will be elected so speedily next Monday.
Tallinn is a fascinating mediaeval city, its centre almost untouched by the second half of the twentieth century. If one were wholly cynical, one might observe that the dead hand of the soviet era spared it from the depredations of 60s and 70s architecture, which still afflicts so many British cities. It is an absolute jewel, which deserves more time for exploration.
Unfortunately, we are off the Helsinki on the 10 o’clock ferry tomorrow. We have had the merest glimpse of this Hanseatic town. We have seen enough, however, to know that the effect of the recession here is considerably worse than in most UK cities. Estonia is suffering from double-digit negative growth, and it shows.
There are a few cruise ships in the port, but their passengers spend little – €29 on average, we are told. The all-important tourist industry is suffering badly.
A friendly Estonian MP escorts us back to our hotel across the charming, but almost deserted, town square. “We used to have 150 restaurants in Tallinn, but 60 have closed so far this year,” he says.
I feel desperately sorry for the Estonians. They are warm, welcoming people, who experienced 50 years of misery under the Nazis and then the soviets.
They, more than most, deserve a bit of luck, but it seems to be eluding them at the moment. I sincerely hope their fortune changes before too long.
