A small, modern, medieval town: Tallinn

The first words I find to describe Tallinn are small medieval town. I just loved the medieval town walls and the old town hall, complete with dragon gutter spouts. Of course, this is a modern (albeit little) European capital city, so there's much more than just that.

Old Town Tallinn. Top row: St. Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, a Russian Orthodox church seated atop Toompea hill; The view down Rataskaevu, home to plenty of fine restaurants that we enjoyed during our stay; A typical street in the Old Town; Tallinn's Viru Gates, which date back to the 14th century and were once part of a larger defensive complex. Middle left row: A typical street (technically outside the Old Town) bearing the Estonian flag; A medieval city gate. Bottom row: Part of the old city walls; Looking down the street toward the 14th century Gothic St. Olav's Church; Tallinn's town hall, reputed to be the best preserved Gothic town hall in Northern Europe; Climbing up to Kiek in de Kök, a 15th century tower.

Tallinn offered surprisingly good food and a great craft beer scene. Mostly, we came across high quality European cuisine, not too much in the way of Estonia-specific beyond some fantastic dark breads. We even found a fantastic Italian gelateria run by real Italians charging at least three times what they could in Italy. (Whoever said that EU didn't do any good?)

Dining in Tallinn. Left column: Estonian dark breads and soups. Middle columns: an assortment of main dishes we enjoyed over the past few days. Right column: desserts!

Enjoying the craft beer scene in Tallinn

Great wifi was available in just about every shop, restaurant, or café. The prices in Tallinn were cheap, though not Vilnius-level cheap, but uou definitely didn't have the feeling that you were among a downtrodden people struggling to find their footing in the 21st century. And you shouldn't. This is a high-tech European country. Did you know that Skype was once a small Estonian start-up? And things haven't stopped there. In late 2014, Estonia became the first country in the world to offer electronic residency, in a step towards "a country without borders," enabling people around the world (who are willing to shell out cash) to obtain access to Estonia's digital services and to gain the rights to open a company or a bank account in Estonia. This is a high-tech little country.

Views across Tallinn, capital of one high-tech little country. (Nicolas does not love the camera, unlike a certain seagull.)

Fun fact: Did you know that Estonia was actually run by the Danes from the 13th-14th century and again in the 16th-17th century? For such a small country today, Denmark certainly has left a large footprint. In fact, traces of it can be found in the Danish king's garden, right on Toompea Hill nearby the castle. Legend has it that today's Danish flag fell from the sky and into existence right here back in 1219, turning the battle for Tallinn in favor of Danish king Valdemar II and winning over the hearts of Danes, who take great pride in their Dannebrog (the Danish flag) today.

The Danish King's Garden, legendary birthplace of the Danish flag, overlooked by an eery sculpture of a faceless monk

It wasn't just the Danes getting in on the business of running Estonia for the Estonians. During much of the 20th century, Estonia was part of the USSR. However, unlike Lithuania, our first former Soviet state to have visited, Estonia is much more integrally tied with Russia. Unlike in Lithuania, where the Russians seemed to be viewed as an external former occupying force, many Estonians actually identify as culturally Russian, even learning to speak Russian before Estonian. Our Airbnb host here in Tallinn told us that she considers herself an exception as an Estonian who is just plain Estonian as far back as she can trace her ancestry. Most of her friends have some Russian/former USSR ancestry. As she explained, that's due much in part to the Soviet Union's efforts to create a "Soviet race" by relocating many young people to different parts of the USSR, where they often ended up meeting people, falling in love, and starting families far away from their roots.

This may help explain why the Estonian Museum of Occupations was much less overwhelming than its Lithuanian counterpart. However, it was home to some impressively discreet KGB spy technology and other interesting tidbits. For instance, we learned about the underground punk music movement of the 1970's, which the Soviets tried hard to suppress. In Estonia, a small magnet required to amplify a guitar could only be found within the public pay phones. It was no coincidence then that, at the height of the '70s punk movement, many repairmen found themselves fixing pay phones, and replacing these magnets, several times a day.

Museum of Occupations. Left: Anti-Nazi Soviet paraphernalia from the early 1940's. Right: a display of an old public payphone, the likes of which had to be repaired 2-3 times a day at the height of the punk music movement, when young Estonians secretly stole phone parts to make their own electric guitars.

In an earlier, less oppressive period of Russian rule, Kadriorg Palace and Park were created, beginning in the early 1700s under the order of the Russian czar Peter the Great. We took a half day to stroll the 2 km outside the city to enjoy the grounds and admire the palace.

Kadriorg Park and Palace

Overall, the city was a charming little place, though we might have done better to plan a day-excursion outside of the city as we had 4 ½ days to fill, more than enough to properly see the city. Instead, we took the opportunity to relax, do a bit of work each morning, and enjoy tourism at a pace to which I'm certainly not accustomed. I'd gladly give Tallinn my thumbs up.

And, with Estonia added to my list of foreign countries visited (#37 and counting!), we boarded our Saint Peter line ferry, Russia-bound.

Farewell, Tallinn!

Traveling to Russia visa-free

The Cold War may be over (or is it?) but Russia hasn't exactly swung its doors open wide to American tourism. (Nor, in all fairness, has the US for the Russians.) Getting to the Motherland as a US tourist can be a huge headache: trips to the nearest Russian consulate, a letter of sponsorship from your hotel, ID photos, visa application forms, a visa support letter, and fees that currently hover around $160 USD for American citizens. All of this is hardly conducive to a nice weekend abroad. Luckily, there is another way to get yourself into Russia, and it's visa-free and totally legal.

Cruising into Russia visa-free

Turns out the tourists entering and leaving by port are permitted up to 72 hours in Russia as part of an "organized cruise excursion" when traveling with a cruise line officially licensed with the Russian government. For some reason (perhaps it had to do with who knew who when these laws got written, or just a certain interest in tourist dollars), cruise and ferry lines are not distinguished under these guidelines. So, if you take the overnight Saint Peter line ferry from Talinn or Helsinki, equipped with proof of hotel reservation for the duration of your stay, you are welcome to enjoy a couple of days of total freedom inside Saint Petersburg. Just carry a little cruise shuttle-bus ticket on your person, and you're part of an "organized excursion"! The same money you might have spent on your Russian visa can instead go to enjoying two nights on a cruise ship getting into and out of the country, with some left to spare for tourism inside the Motherland.

So guess who's heading to Russia in less than two weeks??

Russia, here I come!

I think it's finally spring

The bravest of flowers have opened their petals, the nights are no longer endless, and we've finally shed our heaviest winter coats. I think it may be finally time to say it's spring in Aarhus!

Optogenetics: the hot new neuro tool

Optogenetics is a hot buzzword in the world of neuroscience, but it's hardly considered a household word. So what is this futuristic sci-fi-sounding topic and why should you care? I'd like to give you a taste of what it is and the potential it holds in a 3-minute summary.

Optogenetics is a novel technique which, with the flash of a light, allows us to control the electrical activity of one or many neurons. And it comes from a surprising source: pond scum.

Magnified green algae, aka pond scum

Pond scum, otherwise known as green algae, express a molecule on their surfaces that enable them to convert sunlight into an electric signal. A little more than a decade ago, some clever neuroscientists in Stanford thought to themselves, "What if we took that pond scum gene and inserted into neurons? Might we be able to then use light to control the electrical activity of neurons?" And you know what? It worked!

Some clever neuroscientists thought to themselves, "What if we took that pond scum gene for a molecule that converts light into electricity, and inserted into neurons? Might we be able to then use light to control the electrical activity of neurons?"(Image from nsf.gov)

In labs across the world, optogenetics is being applied for a variety of different applications. Neuroscientists have genetically modified many different classes of neurons to express optogenetic molecules for different experiments. This has enabled them to, all with the flick of a switch, make normally behaving mice suddenly start running in circles, relieve depression in mice, calm anxious mice, or eliminate trembling in mice suffering from Parkinsons-like symptoms. They have even used optogenetics to target and selectively erase specific memories. And that's only a few examples.

A fiber optic is implanted in a genetically-modified mouse brain in order to deliver light directly to the genetically-modified neurons expressing optogenetic molecules in order to control the activity of these neurons with light.

(This image has been widely circulated across the internet, so I don't know which source to site. Just google "optogenetic mouse" to see for yourself.)

So that's all fine, but what does tinkering with a bunch of lab rats—er, mice—mean for you and me? Well, just a couple of months ago, in early 2016, the first human underwent optogenetic therapy as part of a new clinical trial starting in the United States. This woman, who has lost her vision, hopes to have light sensitivity restored thanks to optogenetic molecules that should soon be expressed in her eye. If it works, it will be the first proof that optogenetics can be used in medicine. Potential future applications lie in many diseases and conditions across the board, including Parkinson's Disease, anxiety, chronic pain, depression, even cancer.

This may be the first you've heard of optogenetics, but I suspect it won't be the last.

The Michelin tour of Aarhus, Part 2

Continuing our quest to find the best eat in town, we visited Aarhus's other Michelin "Bib Gourmand," Hæværk, last night. The restaurant can best be described as cozy, intimate, informal, and trendy, in short, the definition of the Danish concept hygge. The restaurant recently changed their tasting menu to pre-dinner snacks and 5 courses including a choice of dessert or cheese platter for 450 kroner (approx. $68 US). Going meat-free (but still eating fish) was easily accommodated.

Seating along a raised table at which parties were separated by stacks of cookbooks

Hæværk isn't your usual restaurant. There is no menu, and your chef will surprise you dish by dish. The restaurant works with local ingredients that may be limited in quantity, so you might not even be eating the same thing as your neighboring table. Course after course continued to surprise and impress us with the expertly balanced blends of flavors, textures, colors, and spices. We found the service to be friendly, if a bit slow, and (as per the Danish norm) very skilled in English.  No longer the novices in tasting menus that we once were, we restricted our wine pairing rather than trying to keep up glass per course. This way, we and our wallets can really appreciate every last course, and can even afford to add on extra sweets and coffee/tea guilt-free.

Our Hæværk tasting menu

Overall, I was very impressed, and frankly surprised that Pondus and Hæværk had even been placed in the same category. No question as to the winner of my Michelin Bib Gourmand competition. The only thing left to ask is when we can make our next reservation!

The Michelin tour of Aarhus, Part 1

The little city of Aarhus is a foodie destination, and it's finally earned its Michelin seal of approval. Just last year, in Michelin's first Nordic Cities guide, Aarhus received its first set of stars, one each to three high-end restaurants, and two "Bib Gourmands" for notable restaurants in a more affordable budget range. To begin our exploration on the wallet-friendly end, Nicolas and I made reservations for each of the 2015 "Bib Gourmands," Pondus and Hærværk.

This weekend, we sampled the Pondus package: appetizers and sparkling wine, 3 courses paired with wines, desserts, and coffee for 575 kr (approx. $72) per person. Things started off quite well with the snacks, whose flavors were complex and nicely balanced.

Unfortunately, the selection went downhill from here. Full points for presentation, but that's where the high praise starts and ends. Between Nicolas's carnivorous and my pescatarian menus, we tasted nearly everything the restaurant had to offer, but our experiences generally matched: The flavors were consistently oddly paired and unbalanced, with one individual flavor (like seaweed) strongly dominating without presenting anything particularly interesting or appealing. It's not that any dish was awful, but nothing worth writing home over (despite the fact that I'm doing just that).

Dishes from our tasting menus at Pondus, one of Aarhus's two Michelin "Bib Gourmand" restaurants

The deconstructed crumble topped with chipped blocks of meringue wrapped up the meal with no more talent than what I enjoy on a daily basis at home. I certainly wouldn't want to downplay the skills of my wonderful personal chef, but I do expect something more at a Michelin-noted restaurant.

Deconstructed crumble and coffee/tea wrapped up our mediocre meal at Pondus

No need to rush on making your next Pondus reservation. I'd hardly call myself a foodie, but still I wasn't impressed. We walked away with a mutual shrug as to how it'd earned its rating.

Our first foray into the former Soviet bloc

At 30€ a pop, it would be wrong not to grab tickets for a birthday weekend abroad. And so I awoke to the last birthday of my twenties inside the former Soviet bloc. And it was awesome.

I didn't really know much about Vilnius. Heck, a few months back, I couldn't have told you it was the capital of Lithuania. And its status as an "undiscovered" tourist destination gave it a charm that may not last long as more people start to realize how surprisingly charming, vibrant, and affordable this little city is.

Wandering through the streets of historical Vilnius

As luck would have it, a street fair had sprung up across the city center on the weekend of our arrival. Around each twisting turn and street corner were more stands selling woolen slippers, bouquets of dried wild flowers, wooden carvings, and sparkling amber jewels. Block out the smart phones and you could easily imagine yourself transported back in time about a half millenium, when this city was the seat of power of the largest country in Europe, the Grand Duchy of Lithuania. UNESCO has recognized the well-preserved medieval town center, lined with a blend of Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, and Classical architecture, as a World Heritage Site. Who knew a city could survive a half century of occupation and still look so good?

The street fair that just so happened to coincide with our weekend in Vilnius

That said, the most memorable part of our visit wasn't the charming narrow streets. In the middle of Gedminas Avenue, Vilnius's Champs Elysées, lie the former KGB headquarters, now the Genocide Museum. The museum was a powerful testament to the resilience and pride of a people oppressed by Nazis only to be "liberated" by a Communist occupation. This museum displayed the country's painful past while inviting visitors to connect and to see themselves reflected in the faces of those who had struggled through life in Lithuania in the 20th century. As I walked through the rooms, I kept wondering about the photographers who'd made much of the museum possible. Who had the presence of mind to sneak a camera into the woods and document the resistance movement of the 1940s and '50s? Who was brave enough, when faced with a mutilated body displayed by the Soviets, to document the horror for posterity? Who walked along the lines of displaced Lithuanians in their work camps and asked the workers to smile for a camera? And then, there was the museum basement: Here, the KGB political prison was preserved, complete with torture and execution chambers. To emerge from this museum and walk through the streets of Vilnius, suddenly appreciating that anyone just a decade older than me had real memories of these times, was eye-opening. The locals were so welcoming. The city was vibrant. The markets were bustling. These people had been through hell and back and here they were, cheerfully enjoying a weekend in what could only be described today as a charming little capital city. How privileged I suddenly felt.

"Even under total surveillance and brutal persecution of people with other convictions, there were those who risking their freedom or even their lives were determined to fight against the regime and protect human rights. Although there were not many of them, their resolute stand and activities served as a moral example for many others and helped to keep the hope for freedom and independence alive. [...] Lithuania is working for its future remembering the price of freedom and independence."

On a lighter note, we also explored Lithuanian culture through our stomachs. Local cuisine included lots of unexpected but surprisingly edible, even enjoyable, delicacies: acorn coffee, dandelion cappuccinos, sour dough flavored drinks, rye bread ice cream, and apple pie served in a bread bowl. There were lots of soups, especially a cold, bright pink beetroot specialty, and sour cream and potatoes were everywhere. Beer was cheaper than water-- can't complain there. And each meal finished with an embarrassingly small bill.

Lithuanian cuisine. Clockwise from top left:  a cold, bright pink beetroot soup with sour milk, boiled eggs, and dill known as saltibarsciai and a sourdough drink, kvass, in background; potato sausage and potato pancakes; fried cottage cheese dumplings with cherry sauce and sour cream; dandelion cappuccino and a typical Lithuanian tinginys (meaning "lazy one") chocolate dessert with cookie chunks; Nicolas with mini fried dough balls covered in powdered sugar; apple pie à la mode with cherry sauce in a rye bread bowl; beer: cheaper than water; a glass of surprisingly good ryebread ice cream.

In three days we had enough time to hit up most of the major tourist attractions: the Palace of the Grand Dukes of Lithuania, now a history museum; St. Anne's Church, the Gothic cathedral made of 33 different kinds of brick; the Gates of Dawn, once part of the medieval city walls; the remains of the old Vilnius castle atop a hill overlooking the old town; the self-styled independent Republic of Uzupis; even the Stebuklas ("miracle") tile, in the Cathedral Square, which marks the end of a 2 million person chain formed from Vilnius to Talinn (Estonia) in 1989 to protest Communism.

The tourist highlights of Vilnius. Clockwise from top left: Gediminas Avenue; the Stebuklas tile in the Cathedral Square; a university entryway; Castle Hill; The Republic of Uzupis; St. Anne's Cathedral; three displays of medieval Vilnius artefacts at the Palace of the Grand Dukes of Vilnius and the Cathedral doors bearing Alpha and Omega wreaths

Nicolas and me outside the Vilnius Cathedral and its free standing bell tower at the end of my birthday weekend abroad

Vilnius was an unexpectedly charming, vibrant, and fun little town. I hope it isn't the last I'll see of it.