The night before our group had gone out drinking until late in the evening. Helsinki at the end of summer was still warm, and the beers were inevitably poured at half a litre per person. Local youth had taught us how to swear in their strange language, and taken us karaoke singing the night before. But the next morning our boat to Estonia would depart early, meaning my wiser friend Seppe and I went to bed before midnight.
However, the other duo, Big and Small, unable to resist the lure of drinks and blonde women roamed the Helsinki streets long into the night. They dropped onto their mattresses at perhaps three in the morning, not even four hours before our boat would depart. As Small still savoured the highlights of their evening, Big ordered him to shut it, as he was already sleeping.
Tallinn is the picturesque capital of Estonia, with a long history of foreign powers, from Danes, Swedes, Germans to the Russians. Its many towers and mediaeval walls reflect this heritage, and the colourful facades surrounding the main square welcome any curious visitor with enthusiasm. However, as it happened, Seppe and I explored the city with two half dead companions on our tail.
As the day drew to a close, we made our way back to the ship’s terminal at the water’s edge. Already quite late, my friends had started the evening with two bottles of vodka, one of which they emptied before we reached the gates. Three of us scanned our tickets and started to enter the building. Unfortunately, the last in line, Small, was unable to scan his code at the automatic gate. No person in sight to help.
Sitting down on the conveyor belt, Seppe and Big mimicked the movement of rowing a canoe as the belt slowly transported them to the upper floor. To our frustrated astonishment, Small remained unable to follow us into the ship, which was set to depart in five to ten minutes. On this second floor, two bald Finnish men pushed us to enter the ship, but still, Small was struggling at the gate.
Big started shouting down to his companion, ordering him to look for any kind of service desk near the entrance. While he ran off, our two Finnish bodyguards examined their watches and signalled that the ship was about to leave. We debated abandoning Small to his own drunken incompetence, but halfway through our debate he returned to retry his code.
We sat around a table in one of the ship’s restaurants. Big had obtained ice cubes somewhere and was busy smashing them with his fist, so the smaller bits could fit into the remaining bottle of vodka. Seppe was nodding off to sleep next to me, and still flustered from his adventure, Small sat at the other end of the table. He had not looked forward to becoming a real Estonian, despite the charms of Tallinn.
