One of the quirkiest memories of my last visit was conducted in a 1960′s bus with ratty seats and stinking of gasoline. Our guide was a youngish chap in a Soviet military getup (bottom left) who feigned drunkenness, kept demanding to see passports, and kept shouting, “Who you are working for?” Eventually he graduated to plying us with vodka; holding forth on the superiority of USSR to the decadent capitalist West whilst waving pictures of Leonid Brezhnev; trying to sign us up for “Communist Party membership”; and warbling a Red Army marching song or two (fortunately, it was an old warhorse called “Katyusha,” to which I just happened to know the words).

Read more in my post A Return to Tallinn, Estonia.


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