Tallinn solo

Day 1 – Early Start and Contrasts

The train to Tallinn departs at 7:26 AM. On the opposite platform, the last partygoers are still staggering back into the weekend. Most travelers around me stand yawning in the morning silence.

Upon arriving in Tallinn, I first head towards the Cathedral Square. The old town appears sleepy – almost deserted – and feels like an open history book.

The second coffee of the day takes me to the Rotermanni Quarter, the architectural heart of modernity.

Rotermanni isn't large, but it is impressive: avant-garde new buildings blend surprisingly harmoniously with the old brick facades of former factories. Where once there was sawing, weaving, milling, and distilling, I now stroll past little design shops and cafés. Once the realm of the influential Rotermann family, it is now an urban mix of old and new – just a stone's throw away from the medieval old town.

After 15,000 steps, fatigue and hunger set in. I make a detour to the market halls – right by the train station. There you can find everything: fresh fruits and vegetables, restaurants, antiques, second-hand treasures, and above all: life. It’s Saturday, and the whole of Tallinn seems to be out and about.

A lively ending to a full day.

Day 2 – A Sunday in Pastel

Today I start more relaxed. I take the tram to Kadriorg Palace, just managing to beat the first waves of tourist groups. Then a break in the park – on the grass, in the shade, between old trees. Tallinn takes Sunday slowly, and so do I.

I let myself drift aimlessly through the streets until it’s time to head back to camp in the early afternoon.

Day 3 – A Flat White and a Quiet Moment

I turn into a small alley – and see her from afar: a woman sitting in front of a small café reading. Yes, that’s exactly what I want now. I order a flat white and a pastry, sit down, and start reading. Shortly after, a man walks down the alley, stops, looks – and does just like me.

The scene feels like it’s painted. The city is silent at this moment.

A goal for today: the creative neighborhood of Telliskivi, which I've always missed before. So off I go! Here you can find everything that stimulates the creative heart: galleries, craft shops, colorful graffiti, art supplies, small shops, and charming cafés. It’s loud, colorful, lively – and very inspiring.

There’s still a bit of time before Frank lands in Tallinn. I spend it café-hopping – also to escape the thunderstorm and the rain.

Finally, Frank arrives. Luckily, I had asked the barista in the morning for tips on restaurants away from the tourist centers. So dinner is also sorted.

Full and satisfied, we head back to the van. This time together.

Day 4 – Catching Up and Anticipation

Today is a quick run-through. I show Frank everything I discovered in the last few days – from the old town to the Rotermanni Quarter, from cafés to Kadriorg Palace. But I also get to see something new: not far from the harbor, right by the water, there’s a massive concrete block – the Linnahall. From the outside, it looks more like a stranded spaceship or an abandoned bunker. Yet it was once one of the showcase projects of the Soviet era in Tallinn. Built in 1980 for the sailing competitions of the Olympic Games in Moscow, Tallinn was the host city for the water competitions back then.

There’s not much left of that glory today. The complex stands empty, crumbling away. The Linnahall is popular at sunset – or even at sunrise, when people come here after a long night of partying. The view over the sea and the quietness of the place feels almost timeless.

A highlight of the day: we step back into the Middle Ages. (Thank you, Nicole, for the tip) At 'Olde Hansa', there are no electric lights, no modern gadgets. Just candlelight, wooden benches, and medieval charm. I order a honey beer – Hallelujah! – and there’s incredibly delicious food. Everything feels very authentic and cozy.

In the afternoon, we finally book our ferry to Helsinki for the next day.

A little piece of luck.

Tallinn solo

At 7:26 in the morning, the train to Tallinn departs. On the platform across from mine, the last partygoers are just making their way home, while most people around me are quietly yawning and waiting.

Once I arrive in Tallinn, I head toward the Cathedral Hill. The old town is still mostly empty, peaceful, and quiet. For my second coffee of the day, I walk to Rotermanni, the city’s architecture district. Rotermanni isn’t very big, but it’s a real paradise for architects—or for anyone who dreams of becoming one. Modern, avant-garde buildings are cleverly combined with the old brick warehouses of the former Rotermann Company. In the late 19th century, the Rotermanns were one of the most influential merchant and industrial families in Tallinn. Where sawmills, textile factories, mills, and distilleries once stood, there are now little designer shops, stores, and cafés. The modern feel of this district contrasts sharply with the medieval old town, even though it’s only a short walk away.

After that little excursion, I’m already feeling quite tired—and I’ve hit the 15,000-step mark.

Since I’m hungry and the place is close to the station, I stop by the market halls. They really have everything—fruit, vegetables, antiques, and second-hand stalls. It’s Saturday, and it feels like all of Tallinn is out and about.

A lively ending to the day.

The second day starts a bit later. I take the tram to Kadriorg Palace and just manage to beat the first wave of tour groups. Then I lie down in the park for a while, taking a break on the grass. Tallinn starts its Sunday slowly—and so do I.

I wander through the city for a bit longer, without a plan, and make my way back to the camp in the early afternoon.

On day three, I turn into a little side street and spot a small café in the distance. A woman is sitting out front reading. Yes, that’s exactly what I want right now. I order a flat white and a pastry and get comfortable. Not long after, a man walks down the alley and does the same. There’s a nice feeling in the air.

I still have some time to pass before Frank’s flight lands. The rest of the day is spent café-hopping to stay dry as thunderstorms pass over the city. Luckily, I had asked the barista this morning for restaurant tips a bit outside the usual tourist areas. So dinner is sorted.

Afterwards, full and happy, we head back to the camper—now together.

Day four — Today is all about a quick tour. I show Frank everything I’ve discovered over the past few days—from the old town to the Rotermanni Quarter, from cafés to Kadriorg Palace. But even I get to see something new: not far from the harbor, right by the water, stands a massive block of concrete—the Linnahall. From the outside, it looks more like a stranded spaceship or an abandoned bunker. But once upon a time, it was one of the Soviet era’s prestige projects in Tallinn. It was built in 1980 for the sailing events of the Moscow Olympics. Back then, Tallinn was the host city for the water competitions.

There’s not much left of that glory now. The complex stands empty, slowly crumbling. People love to come here for sunset—or even sunrise after a long party night. There's something about the view over the sea and the silence of the place that feels strangely timeless.

One highlight of the day: we step back into the Middle Ages. At “Olde Hansa,” there are no electric lights, no modern gadgets. Just candlelight, wooden benches, and medieval charm. I order a honey beer—hallelujah!—and it’s absolutely delicious. The food is incredible too. Everything feels cozy, warm, and truly authentic.

And finally, we book our ferry to Helsinki for the next day. A little bit of luck.