Beyond the Old Town: 5 Road-Less-Travelled Things to Do in Tallinn
When most travellers think of Tallinn, the image that springs to mind is of cobbled streets, medieval towers, and the fairytale charm of its UNESCO-listed Old Town. It’s no wonder—Tallinn’s historic heart is enchanting, and rightly so. But venture just beyond the postcard-perfect walls, and you’ll discover a quieter, more authentic side of Estonia’s capital—one brimming with creativity, nature, and local spirit.
If you’ve already admired the view from Toompea Hill and sipped craft beer in Town Hall Square, it’s time to stray from the beaten path. Here are five unique and lesser-known experiences that reveal the soul of Tallinn beyond the tourist trail.
1. Explore the Abandoned Military Bunkers of Nahkakivi Nature Park
Tucked away in a pine forest just 30 minutes east of the city lies Nahkakivi Nature Park, a serene yet haunting reminder of Estonia’s Soviet past. Scattered throughout the woods are dozens of abandoned military bunkers—concrete relics hidden beneath moss and ferns, remnants of Cold War paranoia.
Hiking through this tranquil forest, you’ll stumble upon camouflaged tunnels, rusting artillery platforms, and watchtowers half-swallowed by nature. It’s an eerie, atmospheric exploration that doubles as a thought-provoking history lesson. Locals come here for peace, photography, and even forest yoga—making it a perfect escape for introspective travellers.
Pro Tip: Visit in autumn when golden leaves contrast with grey concrete, or summer for lush greenery. Bring a flashlight and a sense of adventure.
2. Sip Local Brews at a Pirate-Themed Microbrewery in Kopli
Tucked into Tallinn’s industrial Kopli district—once home to a bustling shipyard—Piraat Brewery offers a quirky, offbeat experience. More than just a pub, Piraat is a cultural institution with a pirate crew (yes, they dress the part), live folk music, and beers brewed using ancient Estonian recipes.
You won’t find many tourists here—just locals laughing over tankards of smoky koduõlu (home-brew) and hearty black bread soup. The taproom feels like stepping into a cozy nautical legend, complete with anchors, maps, and a fireplace surrounded by wooden barrels.
Try This: The flagship “Piraat” ale, dark and malty, or their seasonal herbal brews infused with juniper and wild berries.
3. Wander Through the Hidden Courtyards of Kalamaja
While most visitors flock to the pastel houses of Kalamaja for photos, few venture into its network of hidden courtyards. These intimate inner spaces, tucked behind unassuming doors, are pockets of bohemian soul—filled with street art, cat cafes, independent galleries, and tiny designer boutiques.
Kalamaja, a former working-class district, has transformed into a creative enclave. Spend an hour wandering alleys like Lühike jalg and Kopli, where vintage stores, ceramic workshops, and open studios reveal the city’s artistic pulse. Don’t miss the “Suur Rämba” house—a colourful, graffiti-covered community art project.
Local Insight: Time your visit with the Kalamaja Days festival (June) when courtyards fling open their doors for guided tours and live music.
4. Take a Ferry to Aegna Island for a Wild Nature Escape
Just an hour by public ferry from the city centre lies Aegna Island—a wild, forested escape with no cars, no hotels, and no crowds. Once a Soviet military zone, Aegna is now a protected nature reserve with hiking trails winding through pine forests, WWII ruins, and overgrown observation towers.
Birdwatchers, hikers, and solitude seekers flock here for the silence and the surreal feeling of undiscovered wilderness minutes from the capital. Bring a picnic, spot deer or rare woodpeckers, and climb the island’s highest point for panoramic views of the Gulf of Finland.
How to Go: Catch the seasonal ferry from Sitsi Harbour (spring to autumn), or rent a kayak from the mainland.
5. Uncover Street Art & Urban Gentrification in Balti Jaam Market District
Forget sterile shopping malls—Tallinn’s most vibrant shopping and dining scene unfolds at Balti Jaam Market. Located in a converted 19th-century train warehouse near the city’s central train station, this former grey-market hub has blossomed into a hipster haven.
Inside, you’ll find vintage clothing stalls, farm-to-table food trucks, local design pop-ups, and cozy cafés serving Baltic rye sourdough and third-wave coffee. Graffiti covers the outer walls, and the atmosphere hums with youthful energy.
But the real secret? The surrounding streets—Lühike, Väike, and Soo—are lined with street art murals, tucked-away galleries, and micro-theatres. It’s a neighbourhood reborn, where grassroots creativity thrives just beyond the tourist radar.
Must-Do: Grab a kohuke (Estonian curd snack) from a vendor and explore the back alleys—every corner holds a surprise.
Final Thoughts: Rediscover Tallinn Off the Map
Tallinn’s charm isn’t confined to its medieval ramparts. By stepping into forgotten forests, abandoned fortresses, and neighbourhood courtyards, you experience the city as locals do—dynamic, layered, and quietly poetic.
So next time you’re wandering the Old Town, remember: adventure waits just around the corner. Whether you’re chasing Soviet ghosts in the woods or sipping pirate ale under candlelight, the road less travelled in Tallinn always leads somewhere unforgettable.
Pack your curiosity—and maybe a flashlight. The real Tallinn is waiting.
It was the first time in almost a week that I made the short walk to the cafe alone. It was early, and the chill of the morning was still in the air. In summer, it was the best time of the day. When Susan came with me, it was usually much later, when the day was much warmer and less tolerable.
On the morning of the third day of her visit, Susan said she was missing the hustle and bustle of London, and by the end of the fourth she said, in not so many words, she was over being away from ‘civilisation’. This was a side of her I had not seen before, and it surprised me.
She hadn’t complained, but it was making her irritable. The Susan that morning was vastly different to the Susan on the first day. So much, I thought, for her wanting to ‘reconnect’, the word she had used as the reason for coming to Greve unannounced.
It was also the first morning I had time to reflect on her visit and what my feelings were towards her. It was the reason I’d come to Greve: to soak up the peace and quiet and think about what I was going to do with the rest of my life.
I sat in my usual corner. Maria, one of two waitresses, came out, stopped, and there was no mistaking the relief in her manner. There was an air of tension between Susan and Maria I didn’t understand, and it seemed to emanate from Susan rather than the other way around. I could understand her attitude if it was towards Alisha, but not Maria. All she did was serve coffee and cake.
When Maria recovered from the momentary surprise, she said, smiling, “You are by yourself?” She gave a quick glance in the direction of my villa, just to be sure.
“I am this morning. I’m afraid the heat, for one who is not used to it, can be quite debilitating. I’m also afraid it has had a bad effect on her manners, for which I apologise. I cannot explain why she has been so rude to you.”
“You do not have to apologise for her, David, but it is of no consequence to me. I have had a lot worse. I think she is simply jealous.”
It had crossed my mind, but there was no reason for her to be. “Why?”
“She is a woman, I am a woman, she thinks because you and I are friends, there is something between us.”
It made sense, even if it was not true. “Perhaps if I explained…”
Maria shook her head. “If there is a hole in the boat, you should not keep bailing but try to plug the hole. My grandfather had many expressions, David. If I may give you one piece of advice, as much as it is none of my business, you need to make your feelings known, and if they are not as they once were, and I think they are not, you need to tell her. Before she goes home.”
Interesting advice. Not only a purveyor of excellent coffee, but Maria was also a psychiatrist who had astutely worked out my dilemma. What was that expression, ‘not just a pretty face’?
“Is she leaving soon?” I asked, thinking Maria knew more about Susan’s movements than I did.
“You would disappoint me if you had not suspected as much. Susan was having coffee and talking to someone in her office on a cell phone. It was an intense conversation. I should not eavesdrop, but she said being here was like being stuck in hell. It is a pity she does not share your love for our little piece of paradise, is it not?”
“It is indeed. And you’re right. She said she didn’t have a phone, but I know she has one. She just doesn’t value the idea of getting away from the office. Perhaps her role doesn’t afford her that luxury.”
And perhaps Alisha was right about Maria, that I should be more careful. She had liked Maria the moment she saw her. We had sat at this very table, the first day I arrived. I would have travelled alone, but Prendergast, my old boss, liked to know where ex-employees of the Department were, and what they were doing.
She sighed. “I am glad I am just a waitress. Your usual coffee and cake?”
“Yes, please.”
Several months had passed since we had rescued Susan from her despotic father; she had recovered faster than we had thought, and settled into her role as the new Lady Featherington, though she preferred not to use that title, but go by the name of Lady Susan Cheney.
I didn’t get to be a Lord, or have any title, not that I was expecting one. What I had expected was that Susan, once she found her footing as head of what seemed to be a commercial empire, would not have time for details like husbands, particularly when our agreement made before the wedding gave either of us the right to end it.
There was a moment when I visited her recovering in the hospital, where I was going to give her the out, but I didn’t, and she had not invoked it. We were still married, just not living together.
This visit was one where she wanted to ‘reconnect’ as she called it, and invite me to come home with her. She saw no reason why we could not resume our relationship, conveniently forgetting she indirectly had me arrested for her murder, charges both her mother and Lucy vigorously pursued, and had the clone not returned to save me, I might still be in jail.
It was not something I would forgive or forget any time soon.
There were other reasons why I was reluctant to stay with her, like forgetting small details, an irregularity in her character I found odd. She looked the same, she sounded the same, she basically acted the same, but my mind was telling me something was not right. It was not the Susan I first met, even allowing for the ordeal she had been subjected to.
But, despite those misgivings, there was no question in my mind that I still loved her, and her clandestine arrival had brought back all those feelings. But as the days passed, I began to get the impression my feelings were one-sided and she was just going through the motions.
Which brought me to the last argument, earlier, where I said if I went with her, it would be business meetings, social obligations, and quite simply her ‘celebrity’ status that would keep us apart. I reminded her that I had said from the outset I didn’t like the idea of being in the spotlight, and when I reiterated it, she simply brushed it off as just part of the job, adding rather strangely that I always looked good in a suit. The flippancy of that comment was the last straw, and I left before I said something I would regret.
I knew I was not a priority. Maybe somewhere inside me, I had wanted to be a priority, and I was disappointed when I was not.
And finally, there was Alisha. Susan, at the height of the argument, had intimated she believed I had an affair with her, but that elephant was always in the room whenever Alisha was around. It was no surprise when I learned Susan had asked Prendergast to reassign her to other duties.
At least I knew what my feelings for Alisha were, and there were times when I had to remember she was persona non grata. Perhaps that was why Susan had her banished, but, again, a small detail; jealousy was not one of Susan’s traits when I first knew her.
Perhaps it was time to set Susan free.
When I swung around to look in the direction of the lane where my villa was, I saw Susan. She was formally dressed, not in her ‘tourist’ clothes, which she had bought from one of the local clothing stores. We had fun that day, shopping for clothes, a chore I’d always hated. It had been followed by a leisurely lunch, lots of wine and soul searching.
It was the reason why I sat in this corner; old habits die hard. I could see trouble coming from all directions, not that Susan was trouble or at least I hoped not, but it allowed me the time to watch her walking towards the cafe in what appeared to be short, angry steps; perhaps the culmination of the heat wave and our last argument.
She glared at me as she sat, dropping her bag beside her on the ground, where I could see the cell phone sitting on top. She followed my glance down, and then she looked unrepentant back at me.
Maria came back at the exact moment she was going to speak. I noticed Maria hesitate for a second when she saw Susan, then put her smile in place to deliver my coffee.
Neither spoke nor looked at each other. I said, “Susan will have what I’m having, thanks.”
Maria nodded and left.
“Now,” I said, leaning back in my seat, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation as to why you didn’t tell me about the phone, but that first time you disappeared, I’d guessed you needed to keep in touch with your business interests. I thought it somewhat unwisethat you should come out when the board of one of your companies was trying to remove you, because of what was it, an unexplained absence? All you had to do was tell me there were problems and you needed to remain at home to resolve them.”
My comment elicited a sideways look, with a touch of surprise.
“It was unfortunate timing on their behalf, and I didn’t want you to think everything else was more important than us. There were issues before I came, and I thought the people at home would be able to manage without me for at least a week, but I was wrong.”
“Why come at all. A phone call would have sufficed.”
“I had to see you, talk to you. At least we have had a chance to do that. I’m sorry about yesterday. I once told you I would not become my mother, but I’m afraid I sounded just like her. I misjudged just how much this role would affect me, and truly, I’m sorry.”
An apology was the last thing I expected.
“You have a lot of work to do catching up after being away, and of course, in replacing your mother and gaining the requisite respect as the new Lady Featherington. I think it would be for the best if I were not another distraction. We have plenty of time to reacquaint ourselves when you get past all these teething issues.”
“You’re not coming with me?” She sounded disappointed.
“I think it would be for the best if I didn’t.”
“Why?”
“It should come as no surprise to you that I’ve been keeping an eye on your progress. You are so much better doing your job without me. I told your mother once that when the time came I would not like the responsibilities of being your husband. Now that I have seen what it could possibly entail, I like it even less. You might also want to reconsider our arrangement, after all, we only had a marriage of convenience, and now that those obligations have been fulfilled, we both have the option of terminating it. I won’t make things difficult for you if that’s what you want.”
It was yet another anomaly, I thought; she should look distressed, and I would raise the matter of that arrangement. Perhaps she had forgotten the finer points. I, on the other hand, had always known we would not last forever. The perplexed expression, to me, was a sign she might have forgotten.
Then, her expression changed. “Is that what you want?”
“I wasn’t madly in love with you when we made that arrangement, so it was easy to agree to your terms, but inexplicably, since then, my feelings for you changed, and I would be sad if we parted ways. But the truth is, I can’t see how this is going to work.”
“In saying that, do you think I don’t care for you?”
That was exactly what I was thinking, but I wasn’t going to voice that opinion out loud. “You spent a lot of time finding new ways to make my life miserable, Susan. You and that wretched friend of yours, Lucy. While your attitude improved after we were married, that was because you were going to use me when you went to see your father, and then almost let me go to prison for your murder.”
“I had nothing to do with that, other than to leave, and I didn’t agree with Lucy that you should be made responsible for my disappearance. I cannot be held responsible for the actions of my mother. She hated you; Lucy didn’t understand you, and Millie told me I was stupid for not loving you in return, and she was right. Why do you think I gave you such a hard time? You made it impossible not to fall in love with you, and it nearly changed my mind about everything I’d been planning so meticulously. But perhaps there was a more subliminal reason why I did because after I left, I wanted to believe, if anything went wrong, you would come and find me.”
“How could you possibly know that I’d even consider doing something like that, given what you knew about me?”
“Prendergast made a passing comment when my mother asked him about you; he told us you were very good at finding people and even better at fixing problems.”
“And yet here we are, one argument away from ending it.”
I could see Maria hovering, waiting for the right moment to deliver her coffee, then go back and find Gianna, the café owner, instead. Gianna was more abrupt and, for that reason, was rarely seen serving the customers. Today, she was particularly cantankerous, banging the cake dish on the table and frowning at Susan before returning to her kitchen. Gianna didn’t like Susan either.
Behind me, I heard a car stop, and when she looked up, I knew it was for her. She had arrived with nothing, and she was leaving with nothing.
She stood. “Last chance.”
“Forever?”
She hesitated and then shook away the look of annoyance on her face. “Of course not. I wanted you to come back with me so we could continue working on our relationship. I agree there are problems, but it’s nothing we can’t resolve if we try.”
I had been trying. “It’s too soon for both of us, Susan. I need to be able to trust you, and given the circumstances, and all that water under the bridge, I’m not sure if I can yet.”
She frowned at me. “As you wish.” She took an envelope out of her bag and put it on the table. “When you are ready, it’s an open ticket home. Please make it sooner rather than later. Despite what you think of me, I have missed you, and I have no intention of ending it between us.”
That said, she glared at me for a minute, shook her head, then walked to the car. I watched her get in and the car drive slowly away.
Beyond the Beaten Path: 5 Hidden Gems to Discover in Stockholm
Stockholm is a city that effortlessly blends old-world charm with modern innovation. While most visitors flock to iconic landmarks like the Royal Palace, Gamla Stan, and the Vasa Museum, there’s an entirely different side of the city waiting to be explored — one that reveals intimate neighbourhoods, local rituals, and quiet corners tucked away from the tourist trail.
If you’ve already climbed the usual sightseeing checklist — or if you simply prefer a more authentic, off-the-beaten-path adventure — here are five lesser-known experiences that offer a fresh perspective on Sweden’s capital.
1. Wander the Abandoned Beauty of Fårö Island (Just Beyond the City)
While technically not in Stockholm, Fårö — a quiet island in the Baltic Sea just a short ferry ride from the mainland — feels like stepping into a Nordic fairytale. Made famous by filmmaker Ingmar Bergman, who lived and worked here, Fårö is a tranquil mosaic of windswept beaches, ancient stone forts, and dramatic limestone caves.
Most travellers focus on Gotland’s main island, Visby, but Fårö remains relatively untouched. Rent a bicycle and explore the Fogelhushamnen nature reserve, where jagged alvar plains meet the sea. Have lunch at Högklint, a café with panoramic ocean views, and time your visit with the spring lambing season to see the island come alive. It’s a poetic detour that feels worlds away from urban life, yet is easily reachable via a day trip.
Pro tip: Combine with a stop in Ljugarn, a charming fishing village on Gotland’s northeastern coast.
2. Get Lost in the Graffiti Labyrinths of Tantolunden Tunnel
Tucked beneath a busy overpass in Södermalm lies one of Stockholm’s best-kept secrets — the Tantolunden graffiti tunnel. Unlike the curated street art of other cities, this underground corridor is a constantly evolving canvas of colour, emotion, and political commentary.
Spray-painted by local artists and rebellious youth, the tunnel pulses with raw creativity. It’s especially stunning during winter when the soft glow of streetlights reflects off icy walls, illuminating vibrant murals of wolves, goddesses, and dystopian visions.
Take the tunnel as a starting point and continue your urban exploration into nearby Hornsgatan, lined with independent boutiques, vinyl shops, and hidden cafés like Kafé Döbling, where locals sip fika in cozy nooks.
3. Soak in the Silence at Djurgårdsbrunn Canal
Forget the crowds lining the shores of Nybroviken — for a truly peaceful moment on the water, head to Djurgårdsbrunn Canal. Nestled within the expansive Djurgården island, this 18th-century waterway was once used to supply fresh water to the Royal Palace.
Today, it’s a serene escape, perfect for a morning walk or a quiet picnic. The canal is flanked by lush greenery, wooden bridges, and historic pump houses, with the occasional swan gliding past. Come summer, locals bring out folding chairs and books, unwinding in near-silence.
Pack a Scandinavian-style picnic — think crispbread, pickled herring, and lingonberry juice — and enjoy a moment of mångata, the Swedish concept of the shimmering reflection of moonlight on water. You’ll likely have the entire area to yourself.
4. Explore the Secret Soviet-Era Bunker at Lovön
Did you know Stockholm has a Cold War bunker hidden beneath an unassuming forest? Located on the island of Lovön — part of the city’s national urban park — the Klara Shelter is just one of many underground military installations built during the mid-20th century to protect government officials in case of nuclear attack.
While the original bunker in central Stockholm is occasionally open for tours, the more accessible and atmospheric option is the P1 bunker at Lovön. Officially declassified and occasionally open for public visits or special exhibitions, this labyrinthine complex could house thousands and function independently for weeks.
Even if it’s closed, the surrounding area is worth visiting — pine forests, rocky shores, and the nearby Drottningholm Palace Water Theatre, a UNESCO-listed outdoor stage dating back to the 1700s that still hosts baroque operas.
Keep an eye on events by the Stockholm City Museum — they often organise rare guided bunker tours.
5. Sip Coffee in a Converted Church: Kaffistiet @ Katarina Kyrka
In the heart of Södermalm lies Katarina Church, a stark 18th-century building with panoramic views of the city. But the real treasure is downstairs, in the crypt-turned-café known as Kaffistiet.
This intimate coffeehouse, run by Katarina Parish, feels like drinking espresso in a sacred cave. Exposed stone walls, soft candlelight, and the faint scent of incense create a meditative atmosphere. They serve single-origin beans roasted in Stockholm and homemade pastries baked daily.
Sit by a small window overlooking the graveyard and listen to soft choral music drifting from above. It’s a place where spirituality and secular calm coexist — and where you can enjoy one of the city’s best cappuccinos with a side of introspection.
Bonus: Sundays often feature live acoustic music or poetry readings — check their Facebook page for schedules.
Final Thoughts: Embrace the Quiet Side of Stockholm
Stockholm’s charm doesn’t lie solely in its famous sights — it lives in the hushed echoes of ancient tunnels, the spontaneous art on forgotten walls, and the quiet rituals of daily life that unfold beyond guidebooks.
The city rewards the curious traveller. So next time you’re in Sweden’s capital, leave the map behind. Venture into the misty islands, dive into underground art, and find peace in places where history and silence speak louder than words.
Because in Stockholm, the road less travelled doesn’t just lead to discovery — it leads to soul.
Have you found your own hidden gem in Stockholm? Share your secret spots in the comments below!
“What city is this?” he wondered out loud, looking down from a strange balcony to an unfamiliar street.
…
That might not have been the first thought that went through my mind that morning, but it had finally confirmed that I might very well be losing my mind.
What started this…
I woke. It wasn’t any different to what had happened every morning for I believed was the last forty two years of my life.
This morning…
Not so much. It was a room, it had two doors, and four walls, a cabinet, a TV, a painting and a window covered by heavy curtains.
OK, it was not my bedroom.
But it could be a hotel room, and since I travelled a lot, probably a hotel room in another city where we had an office.
I had been travelling a lot in recent months.
It was dark-ish, perhaps day from the light seeping in through the gaps in the curtains.
There was an unfamiliar aroma, like the room was damp, or old, and certainly not the sort of place I usually stayed.
Then, suddenly there was a groan, and movement beside me.
I was not travelling with anyone, I do not go to bars and pick up women, I didn’t currently have a girlfriend, so who was that groaning.
I moved and felt a stabbing pain in my head. A hangover? Impossible. I through off the covers and moved sideways, then looked back.
A woman, dressed thankfully, stretched out facing the other way. I took a moment to discover I was in my forthcoming, which didn’t make sense.
Who was she?
Where did she come from?
Where the hell was I?
I went over to the window and opened the curtains, and the pain in my head was worse. Morning light in unadjusted eyeballs hurts.
I squinted and blinked several times until I could make out shapes. There was another door, out onto the balcony. I stepped out and shivered. It was freezing cold.
I looked down. And uan nfamiliar street, an unfamiliar city. I had no idea where I was.
“You do not have to jump, I am not that ugly,” a voice, female, accented, came from within the room.
I stepped back inside and closed the door, leaning against it. The woman was propped up on one hand, looking at me.
She was younger than she sounded, with unruly blonde hair, not her real colour, and an exquisite face and whimsical expressions.
I had never seen her before.
“Who are you?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I don’t even know where I am.”
“Bratislava.”
“Impossible. I don’t even remember leaving Chicago.”
It was the last thing I remembered. Telling my supervisor that I needed a break, and basically resigning when she refused, I packed my stuff in a box and left, handing my key card and employee ID in at the door.
So I’d finally quit.
That much I remember. I also remembered going home and having a few drinks, then going to bed.
“You arrived yesterday afternoon. You came to the bar where I waited tables. You related your miserable story, drank too much, I brought you here, you asked me to stay.”
Hard to believe anyone would trust an American.
“How do you know I’m not an axe murderer?”
She laughed. “You are not an axe murderer. You were kind and gentle, and let me finally get a good night’s sleep in a real bed.”
“You have no home?”
“I have a home with parents, grandparents, six brothers and sisters, with no room and less privacy. We are poor. I work hard, but not enough for a place of my own.
“So you stay with random men who turn up at your bar.”
She looked indignant. “I am not that sort of girl.”
“You are here with me, what sort of does that make you?”
“A friend without benefits.”
I shook my head. I was letting the details get in the way of the main issue. How did I finish up in Bratislava, if it was Bratislava, when the last place I’d remember was Chicago?
“Come.” She patted the bed. “You look stressed, and I can also give a massage.”
She sighed when I didn’t move.
“It is Sunday. I have a day off. You asked me to take you on a tour. We can sleep in a little. Get breakfast from room service. Come, relax.”
She lay back down and pulled the sheet up, then looked at me. I could feel the cold seeping in from the window, so I shut the curtains, shrouding the room in semi-darkness.
If she were going to rob me, she would have done something already, the same if she were going to kill me. She was here for some other reason, and I didn’t believe for a minute I had asked her back to my room, or she would have come.
I sat on the edge of the bed and tried desperately to remember anything about the last 24 hours. There was nothing. Just the altercation with the supervisor, leaving, and going home.
In Chicago. Not Bratislava.
I felt the bed move as she came over to sit next to me. She took my hand in hers.
“You are acting very strangely.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Robert from Chicago. Man of leisure. Now.”
OK. Now was the time to start worrying. My name wasn’t Robert. Best keep that to myself. All I could think of was that I hadn’t quit, I was on a new operation, and somewhere, somehow, I had lost my short-term memory.
And the woman next to me could be either an enemy or a contact.
But why had I told her my actual life story, or was it part of the legend?
“I’m confused, and someone like me, that’s impossible.”
“In my line of work, you get to realise everything is impossible. Except every now and then, a ray of sunshine appears in the middle of a blizzard. By the way, we’re expecting snow; more snow, and just when you think that the weather will change, more snow. Best we stay in.”
I turned to look at her. “Who are you?”
“You know who I am, but since you have trouble remembering, I am Irina, waitress extrordanaire, sometimes tour guide, sometimes bartender, not often with time off.”
“Who brought me here…”
“When I asked you where you were staying.”
“No comment from the reception clerk?”
“He is used to odd situations and people coming and going. It is a three-star hotel. Sometimes spies stay in such hotels. Personally, I have never met one. Are you a spy?”
What an odd question to ask. Was it a spy? No. Not exactly. I used to be a courier, delivering stuff for agents at dead drops, but an actual spy? No.
“It’s an interesting thought. A spy with no memory of why he’s here in a strange hotel in a city he does remember getting to, with…” I shook my head. I had no idea who or what she was.
“Me,” she finished the sentence. “Perhaps if you go back to sleep, when you wake up, everything will be clear.”
Maybe, maybe not.
“I’m just going outside to clear my head. If you’re still here when I come back, then I’ll know at least one part of this dream is real.”
She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
“I’ve never been part of someone’s dream before.”
I’m not sure what I felt in that moment, but it wasn’t like anything I’d felt for a long time.
“Hold that thought.”
I stood and went over to the window and felt the cold. I hadn’t shut the door. I stepped out onto the balcony and looked out at the old architecture and the roadway below.
After a minute or two, a gust of wind stirred up the snow on the railing and made me shiver. From within the room, I heard the door slam shut, one of those doors designed not to stay open.
I went back inside, and she was gone.
No surprise there. If I had been with someone like me, someone who couldn’t remember who they were and where they were, I’d get out fast, too.
I stood in the middle of the room and tried to make sense of my surroundings. I’d given up trying to figure out how I got there. Was there anything to identify me as this Robert?
A suitcase was on the rack for suitcases, open, and items were scattered neatly. Clothes hanging in the closet. A backpack is on the desk, but not open. Wallet on bedside table, anda document folder.
I sat on the bed and opened the wallet. Money, a credit card in the name of Robert Daniels. Illinois driver’s licence in the same name. A wad of money in several currencies. A lot of US dollars.
Documents, a passport, looking authentic, not a hastily manufactured item that sometimes ended up in my possession, travel itinerary from Chicago to London to Vienna, then my own arrangements to Bratislava. No return, but open, and a card with a cell number, Luxury Experiences. No name.
I looked in the backpack and found a diary, no name, with a mixture of what looked like my writing and someone else’s. Dates matched the itinerary.
Strange dates. I remembered, now, that it had been the 5th when I left the office, the date of my sister’s birthday, and that I’d tried to call her, and the date on the itinerary for leaving Chicago was the 15th.
Ten whole days that had just disappeared.
As for today? “Await instructions. Keep your cell phone close. Tour the city near the hotel, but be ready to move quickly if necessary.”
What the …?
The curtains blew inward from another gust, the cold circulating in the room.
I shivered, but this time it was not the cold. My only memory at that time was having quit the service, and now it appeared I was at the start of a new mission.
After putting everything back where I found it, I went over to the window. I looked out and saw that light snow was falling.
I went to close the door, then, on impulse, decided to step out and see if it was really snowing. I was having trouble separating imagination from reality. Another gust was accompanied by the sound of the door, then …
“Robert…”
I heard her voice and moved slightly just as something smashed into the bricks just behind where I had been standing.
A split second later, it registered, and I dropped to the floor just as another crashing sound came from where I’d just been standing.
Bullets, two, then a third into the balcony.
A sniper.
On another building opposite, looking down. After the fourth bullet, it stopped.
“Don’t come out,” I yelled.
“What is….”
A bullet shattered the window above me.
“Call the police, and tell them to hurry.”
If she didn’t have the sense to run and never be seen again. I wasn’t sure, but somewhere in the back of my mind was a thought that I had just reached my use-by date.
All stories require some form of research, quite often to place a character in a place at a particular time, especially if it is in a historical context. This series will take you through what it was like in 1914 through 1916.
The journey of an Englishman returning from Australia to enlist, travelling through the Suez Canal in April 1915, places him squarely within the initial stages of the British Empire’s military buildup in Egypt.
1. Nearest Port and Ship Delivery
The most likely final disembarkation port for troop transport ships arriving in Egypt via the Suez Canal in April 1915 was Alexandria.
Suez Canal Route: The ship would pass through the Suez Canal and enter the Mediterranean Sea via Port Said. While Port Said was a vital coaling and resupply station at the northern entrance of the Canal, it was primarily a commercial port and a critical point for Canal defence.
The Main Base:Alexandria was the primary, large-capacity deep-water port on the Mediterranean coast and served as the main base and logistic hub for the British, Australian, and New Zealand (ANZAC) forces in Egypt. Troops destined for the extensive training camps in the Cairo area (like Mena Camp near the Pyramids) were routinely disembarked at Alexandria due to its superior facilities for handling large numbers of men, horses, and materiel.
In short, the ship would transit the Canal at Port Said, but the soldier would be delivered to Alexandria.
2. Travel to Cairo and Training Camps
Yes, he would almost certainly need to go to Cairo first, or at least pass through the major military transit points near it, before reaching the training camps near the Pyramids (Mena Camp).
From Alexandria to Cairo: Upon disembarking at Alexandria, soldiers were typically immediately loaded onto troop trains for the several-hour journey inland. The main line ran directly to Cairo, where the primary base hospitals, advanced supply depots, and major military command were located.
Mena Camp: The famous Mena Camp, situated right next to the Giza Pyramids, was the principal training ground for incoming forces. Transportation from the Cairo railway station or a nearby transit point would be organised to move him to his specific unit in the camp.
3. Reporting with Special Orders
If the enlisted Englishman had “special orders,” his reporting procedure would be immediately elevated and separated from the standard mass of recruits.
Standard Procedure: A typical enlisted man would report to the Adjutant or a Regimental Sergeant Major (RSM) of the unit he was assigned to, who would be waiting at the port or the reception depot in Cairo.
Special Orders Procedure: A soldier with special orders would likely be carrying them in a sealed document intended for high-level staff. He would report to:
The Base Commandant or Staff Officer on Arrival: The first stop would be the Base Commandant or the senior Staff Officer of the disembarkation port (Alexandria). He would present his orders and be immediately directed to the appropriate authority.
General Officer Commanding (G.O.C.)’s Headquarters: His orders would likely route him directly to the General Officer Commanding, Egypt (G.O.C. Egypt), or the Staff Officer representing the GOC at GHQ (General Headquarters) in Cairo. In April 1915, the overall command in Egypt was likely under the purview of General Sir John Maxwell, who was responsible for the troops and defences of Egypt. If the special orders related to the imminent Gallipoli campaign, he might be directed to the headquarters of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) or the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force (MEF), both of which had Staff Officers operating out of the Cairo command structure.
In summary, his path would be: Australia → Suez Canal → Disembark at Alexandria → Troop Train to Cairo → Report to GHQ Staff (or his unit in the Mena Camp area).
Last days were supposed to be joyous, the end of your working life and the start of the rest of your life.
I’d spent the last 35 years working for the company, navigating through three buyouts, five name changes, and three restructures. I was surprised I was still employed after the last, only two years before.
But, here I was, sitting in the divisional manager’s office, my office for one more day, with my successor, Jerry, and best friend, sitting on the other side.
“Last day, what are you thinking?” He asked casually.
It might have been early, but we both had a glass of scotch, a single malt I’d kept aside for an important occasion and this seemed like one.
I picked up the glass and surveyed the contents, giving myself a few moments to consider an answer to what could be a difficult question. To be honest, the thinking had started on the subway on the way in, when I should have been working on the crossword, but instead, I was lamenting the fact that the next chapter of my life would be without Ellen.
We would have been married, coincidently, 43 years ago today, had she been alive. Unfortunately, she had died suddenly about four months ago, after a long battle with cancer.
And I still hadn’t had time to process it. Truth is, it had been work that kept me together, and I was worried about what was going to happen when it would no longer there.
To a certain extent, I was still on autopilot, her death coming in the middle of a major disaster concerning the company, one that had finally, and successfully, been brought to a conclusion with favorable results for everyone.
But what was I thinking right then, at that precise moment in time? Not something he would want to hear, so I made the necessary adjustment. “That I’m basically leaving you a clean slate, so don’t screw it up.”
I could see that was not what he wanted to hear.
He decided to take a different tack. “What have you got planned for the first day of retirement.”
He knew about Ellen and had been there for me, above and beyond what could have been expected from anyone. I owed him more than a platitude.
“Sleep in, probably, but I’m going to be fighting that body clock. It’s going to be difficult after so many years getting up the same time, rail hail or shine. But we had plans to go away for a few months, you know, the trip of a lifetime, then move. Ellen wanted to go back home for a while, now, I’m not sure what I’m going to do.”
“Then perhaps you should, or at the very least, go home for a while. You said you both come from there; who knows, being back among family might just be what you need.”
It was something I had been thinking about and had been issued an open-ended invitation from her parents to come and stay for as long as I wanted, one that I was seriously considering.
But, before I could tell him that, the phone rang.
Never a dull day…
The day went quickly, and as much as it was expected I’d hand over anything that happened to my successor, I couldn’t quite let go. There was the proverbial storm in a teacup, but it was a good opportunity to watch the man who was taking over in action. He had a great teacher, even if I said so myself.
But it was the end of the day and the moment I had been dreading. I’d asked the personnel manager not to make a big deal out of my departure, and that I didn’t want the usual sendoff, where everyone in the office came and I would find myself at a loss of words and feel like I had to speak to a lot of people I didn’t really know.
There were only about a dozen that I really knew, a dozen that had survived the layoffs and restructuring, and although there were others, I didn’t have anything to do with them. My last job took me out of the office more than being there, and so many of the other people were from offices scattered all up and down the east coast.
I’d mostly said my goodbyes to them on the last quarterly visit. Sixteen offices, fifty-odd employees who were as much friends as they were staff who worked for me. There had been small dinners and heartfelt moments.
This I was hoping would be the same.
Jerry had been charged with the responsibility of getting me to the presentation; they called it a presentation because I had no doubt there would be a presentation of some sort. I had told the CEO a handshake and a couple of drinks would suffice, and he just congenially nodded.
Jerry had taken the manager’s chair and I was sitting on the other side of the table. We’d finished off the last of the single malt, and dirt was time to go. I closed the door to the office for the last time, and we walked along the passage towards the dining room. It was a perk I’d fought hard to keep during the last restructure when the money men were trying to cut costs.
It was one of the few battles I won.
He opened the door and stood to one side, and ushered me through.
It was a very large space, usually filled with tables, chairs, and diners. Now it was filled with people, leaving a passageway from the door to a podium that had been set up in front of the servery, where a large curtain stretched across the width of the building with the company logo displayed on it.
There were 2,300 people who worked in this office and another 700 from the regional offices. By the look of the crowd, every single one of them was there.
It took fifteen minutes to get from the door to the podium. Faces of people I’d seen every day, faces I’d seen a few times a year, and faces I’d never seen before. On the podium there was a dozen more, faces I’d only seen in the Annual Accounts document, except for the General Manager and the CEO.
“You will be pleased to know everyone here wanted to come and bid you farewell,” the General Manager said.
“Everyone? Why?”
“Well, I’ve learned a lot about this company and its people over the last week, and frankly, people have a way of surprising you. And given the impact you have had on each and every one of them, I’m not surprised. So much so, they wanted to give you something to remember them by.”
A nod of the head and the curtains were pulled back, and behind them was an original 1968 XJ6 Jaguar, fully restored, a very familiar XJ6. The car had belonged to Helen and I had to sell it to help pay the medical bills. It had been a gut-wrenching experience, coming at a time when everything that was happened to her almost overwhelmed me.
“Jerry told us about this particular car, so all of your friends thought, as a fitting memory to you and of her, that we should find it and restore it. Everyone here contributed. It is our gift to you for everything you have done for us.”
Anthony Burgess, the renowned English writer and critic, once said, “Language exists less to record the actual than to liberate the imagination.” These profound words highlight the dual nature of language, which not only serves as a tool for communication but also as a catalyst for creativity and imagination. In this blog post, we will delve into the concept of language as a liberator of the imagination, exploring its implications and significance in our daily lives.
The Limitations of Recording the Actual
Language is often seen as a means of recording and conveying information about the world around us. We use words to describe people, places, objects, and events, attempting to capture their essence and characteristics. However, as Burgess notes, language is not merely a passive recorder of reality. If it were, it would be limited to simply documenting facts and figures, without any room for interpretation, creativity, or innovation.
Liberating the Imagination
The true power of language lies in its ability to transcend the mundane and ordinary, to tap into our imagination and creativity. Through language, we can conjure up worlds, characters, and scenarios that are entirely fictional, yet eerily relatable. We can use words to evoke emotions, to paint vivid pictures, and to convey complex ideas and concepts. Language becomes a tool for self-expression, allowing us to channel our thoughts, feelings, and experiences into something tangible and meaningful.
The Role of Metaphor and Symbolism
One of the key ways in which language liberates the imagination is through the use of metaphor and symbolism. By comparing two seemingly unrelated things, we can create new meanings and associations, revealing hidden connections and patterns. Metaphors and symbols can transport us to new realms of understanding, enabling us to see the world from fresh perspectives. For example, when we describe a person as a “ray of sunshine,” we are not merely recording a fact, but rather using language to evoke a sense of warmth, happiness, and optimism.
The Importance of Imagination in Human Experience
Imagination is a fundamental aspect of the human experience, enabling us to dream, to innovate, and to create. It is through imagination that we can envision new possibilities, challenge existing norms, and push the boundaries of what is thought possible. Language, as a liberator of the imagination, plays a vital role in this process, providing us with the tools to express ourselves, to communicate our ideas, and to bring our visions to life.
Conclusion
Anthony Burgess’s statement reminds us that language is not just a utilitarian tool but a powerful catalyst for creativity and imagination. By recognising the dual nature of language, we can harness its potential to liberate our imagination, to express ourselves authentically, and to create new worlds, characters, and scenarios. As we continue to navigate the complexities of the human experience, we must prioritise the imagination, using language as a tool to inspire, innovate, and bring our most fantastical ideas to life. In doing so, we can unlock the full potential of language and unleash the imagination that lies within us all.
Beyond the Beaten Path: 5 Hidden Gems to Discover in Stockholm
Stockholm is a city that effortlessly blends old-world charm with modern innovation. While most visitors flock to iconic landmarks like the Royal Palace, Gamla Stan, and the Vasa Museum, there’s an entirely different side of the city waiting to be explored — one that reveals intimate neighbourhoods, local rituals, and quiet corners tucked away from the tourist trail.
If you’ve already climbed the usual sightseeing checklist — or if you simply prefer a more authentic, off-the-beaten-path adventure — here are five lesser-known experiences that offer a fresh perspective on Sweden’s capital.
1. Wander the Abandoned Beauty of Fårö Island (Just Beyond the City)
While technically not in Stockholm, Fårö — a quiet island in the Baltic Sea just a short ferry ride from the mainland — feels like stepping into a Nordic fairytale. Made famous by filmmaker Ingmar Bergman, who lived and worked here, Fårö is a tranquil mosaic of windswept beaches, ancient stone forts, and dramatic limestone caves.
Most travellers focus on Gotland’s main island, Visby, but Fårö remains relatively untouched. Rent a bicycle and explore the Fogelhushamnen nature reserve, where jagged alvar plains meet the sea. Have lunch at Högklint, a café with panoramic ocean views, and time your visit with the spring lambing season to see the island come alive. It’s a poetic detour that feels worlds away from urban life, yet is easily reachable via a day trip.
Pro tip: Combine with a stop in Ljugarn, a charming fishing village on Gotland’s northeastern coast.
2. Get Lost in the Graffiti Labyrinths of Tantolunden Tunnel
Tucked beneath a busy overpass in Södermalm lies one of Stockholm’s best-kept secrets — the Tantolunden graffiti tunnel. Unlike the curated street art of other cities, this underground corridor is a constantly evolving canvas of colour, emotion, and political commentary.
Spray-painted by local artists and rebellious youth, the tunnel pulses with raw creativity. It’s especially stunning during winter when the soft glow of streetlights reflects off icy walls, illuminating vibrant murals of wolves, goddesses, and dystopian visions.
Take the tunnel as a starting point and continue your urban exploration into nearby Hornsgatan, lined with independent boutiques, vinyl shops, and hidden cafés like Kafé Döbling, where locals sip fika in cozy nooks.
3. Soak in the Silence at Djurgårdsbrunn Canal
Forget the crowds lining the shores of Nybroviken — for a truly peaceful moment on the water, head to Djurgårdsbrunn Canal. Nestled within the expansive Djurgården island, this 18th-century waterway was once used to supply fresh water to the Royal Palace.
Today, it’s a serene escape, perfect for a morning walk or a quiet picnic. The canal is flanked by lush greenery, wooden bridges, and historic pump houses, with the occasional swan gliding past. Come summer, locals bring out folding chairs and books, unwinding in near-silence.
Pack a Scandinavian-style picnic — think crispbread, pickled herring, and lingonberry juice — and enjoy a moment of mångata, the Swedish concept of the shimmering reflection of moonlight on water. You’ll likely have the entire area to yourself.
4. Explore the Secret Soviet-Era Bunker at Lovön
Did you know Stockholm has a Cold War bunker hidden beneath an unassuming forest? Located on the island of Lovön — part of the city’s national urban park — the Klara Shelter is just one of many underground military installations built during the mid-20th century to protect government officials in case of nuclear attack.
While the original bunker in central Stockholm is occasionally open for tours, the more accessible and atmospheric option is the P1 bunker at Lovön. Officially declassified and occasionally open for public visits or special exhibitions, this labyrinthine complex could house thousands and function independently for weeks.
Even if it’s closed, the surrounding area is worth visiting — pine forests, rocky shores, and the nearby Drottningholm Palace Water Theatre, a UNESCO-listed outdoor stage dating back to the 1700s that still hosts baroque operas.
Keep an eye on events by the Stockholm City Museum — they often organise rare guided bunker tours.
5. Sip Coffee in a Converted Church: Kaffistiet @ Katarina Kyrka
In the heart of Södermalm lies Katarina Church, a stark 18th-century building with panoramic views of the city. But the real treasure is downstairs, in the crypt-turned-café known as Kaffistiet.
This intimate coffeehouse, run by Katarina Parish, feels like drinking espresso in a sacred cave. Exposed stone walls, soft candlelight, and the faint scent of incense create a meditative atmosphere. They serve single-origin beans roasted in Stockholm and homemade pastries baked daily.
Sit by a small window overlooking the graveyard and listen to soft choral music drifting from above. It’s a place where spirituality and secular calm coexist — and where you can enjoy one of the city’s best cappuccinos with a side of introspection.
Bonus: Sundays often feature live acoustic music or poetry readings — check their Facebook page for schedules.
Final Thoughts: Embrace the Quiet Side of Stockholm
Stockholm’s charm doesn’t lie solely in its famous sights — it lives in the hushed echoes of ancient tunnels, the spontaneous art on forgotten walls, and the quiet rituals of daily life that unfold beyond guidebooks.
The city rewards the curious traveller. So next time you’re in Sweden’s capital, leave the map behind. Venture into the misty islands, dive into underground art, and find peace in places where history and silence speak louder than words.
Because in Stockholm, the road less travelled doesn’t just lead to discovery — it leads to soul.
Have you found your own hidden gem in Stockholm? Share your secret spots in the comments below!
Beyond Nyhavn: 5 Off‑the‑Beaten‑Path Adventures in Copenhagen
Copenhagen is famous for its pastel‑colored houses along Nyhavn, the Tivoli Gardens roller–coaster thrills, and the iconic Little Mermaid statue. But the Danish capital hides a treasure trove of quieter, quirkier experiences that most guidebooks overlook. If you’ve already checked the “must‑see” boxes and crave something a little more intimate, here are five low‑key activities that will make you feel like a true Copenhagen insider.
1. Wander the Secret Gardens of Kongens Have’s Hidden Corners
Why it’s special
Kongens Have (the King’s Garden) is the city’s oldest royal park, but most visitors stick to the manicured lawns and the open‑air museum of the Rosenborg Castle. Slip away into the lesser‑known north‑west quadrant—near the Kongens Nytorv entrance—where you’ll discover:
The “Rose Path” – a winding lane lined with centuries‑old climbing roses that burst into fragrance every June.
The Sculpted Herb Garden – a quiet patch of rosemary, thyme, and sage that once supplied the royal kitchen.
The 17th‑century Baroque Maze – a tiny, partially hidden maze that is rarely mentioned in tourist maps.
How to get there
Enter through the Nørreport side of the park (just a 2‑minute walk from the metro station). Follow the stone wall toward the old oak tree—look for a discreet wooden gate marked “Privat” (it’s actually public).
Insider tip
Bring a small picnic and a blanket. The garden’s north‑west nook is shaded by a canopy of linden trees, perfect for an impromptu lunch away from the crowds.
2. Sip Coffee in Kødbyen’s Underground Roasters
Why it’s special
Kødbyen (the Meatpacking District) is now a buzzing hub for nightlife, but beneath the industrial lofts lies a subterranean coffee scene that most tourists miss.
Coffee Collective’s “Basement Lab” – a speakeasy‑style tasting room that roasts beans on site and offers cupping sessions with the master roaster.
Brew Lab – an experimental bar where baristas play with Nordic‑foraged herbs, creating latte art that smells like birch and juniper.
How to get there
Take the København metro to Kongens Nytorv and walk 5 minutes east to the alleys behind the meatpacking warehouses. Look for the discreet black door with a minimalist “C” logo.
Insider tip
Book a 30‑minute “Coffee Journey” in advance (they only have a handful of slots each day). You’ll leave with a small bag of your favourite single‑origin beans, freshly sealed with the roastery’s stamp.
3. Explore the Abandoned Railway Tunnel of Vestamager
Why it’s special
The city’s modern architecture gets most of the applause, but an old freight tunnel underneath the Ørestad district remains untouched by tourists. This 1‑km stretch of rust‑colored steel and graffiti‑covered walls offers:
Street‑art murals by local collectives, ever‑changing and never photographed.
Echoes of the past – the tunnel once carried coal to the harbour; now it’s a quiet, echoey corridor perfect for urban photography.
How to get there
Take the M2 metro to Ørestad and follow the signs to “Vestre Fælled”. The tunnel entrance is a metal gate hidden behind a row of shipping containers.
Insider tip
Wear sturdy shoes and bring a flashlight. The tunnel is dim, and the floor can be uneven. The best time to visit is early morning, before the occasional joggers pass through.
4. Attend a Live‑Action Role‑Playing (LARP) Session at Dyrehaven
Why it’s special
Dyrehaven (the Deer Park) is a sprawling forest north of the city, famous for its majestic stags. Every summer, a group of dedicated Danes sets up an immersive LARP event that blends medieval fantasy with Danish folklore.
Costumed battles in the clearing near the historic Jægersborg palace.
Story‑driven quests that involve riddles hidden in ancient oak trees.
A chance to join at any skill level—no prior experience required.
How to get there
Take the S‑train to Klampenborg and walk 15 minutes through the park’s western side. Look for a large, red‑and‑black banner near the “Kongens Nærhed” clearing.
Insider tip
Bring a simple costume (a cloak or a tunic works fine) and a reusable water bottle. The events run from 2 pm to sunset, and there’s always a community potluck afterwards where you can sample traditional Danish fare like rye bread with smoked fish.
5. Dive into the Micro‑Museum of Danish Design at Købmagergade 45
Why it’s special
While the Design Museum and the National Museum attract crowds, a tiny, hardly‑noticed space tucked behind a boutique on Købmagergade showcases rotating exhibitions of obscure Danish designers—think avant‑garde furniture from the 1920s, experimental ceramics, and even a collection of vintage bike accessories.
“The Lost Chairs” – a series of handcrafted stools made from reclaimed ship timber.
“Light in the Dark” – an interactive exhibit where you can rewire vintage lamps to create new lighting moods.
How to get there
Enter the building through the glass storefront; the entrance is a narrow hallway marked “Kunst & Håndværk”. Admission is free, but donations are welcome.
Insider tip
Ask the curator (usually a friendly design student) for a short, behind‑the‑scenes tour. They love sharing the stories behind each piece, many of which involve collaborations with local artisans still active today.
Bonus: Make Your Own Copenhagen Map
If you’re the type who loves charting hidden gems, grab a blank A4 sheet and plot the five spots above with a different colour for each activity. Add a tiny icon (a rose for Kongens Have, a coffee cup for Kødbyen, etc.) and you’ll have a personalised guide that no one else in the city will have.
Wrap‑Up: Why “Road‑Less‑Travelled” Matters
Travel is more than ticking boxes; it’s about the moments that surprise you—when you stumble into a secret garden, sip a coffee brewed in a basement, or hear the echo of trains long gone. Copenhagen’s polished tourist veneer makes it easy to overlook these pockets of authenticity, but with a little curiosity (and a willingness to wander off the main streets), the capital reveals a softer, more intimate side.
So next time you’re packing for a trip to Denmark’s capital, leave a few hours open on your itinerary. Follow these five off‑beat suggestions, and you’ll return home with stories that go beyond the postcard—stories that only a true Copenhagen explorer could tell.
Ready to roam the hidden corners? Share your own secret spots in the comments below, and let’s build a community of curious travellers who love the road less travelled. Happy exploring!
Anthony Burgess, the renowned English writer and critic, once said, “Language exists less to record the actual than to liberate the imagination.” These profound words highlight the dual nature of language, which not only serves as a tool for communication but also as a catalyst for creativity and imagination. In this blog post, we will delve into the concept of language as a liberator of the imagination, exploring its implications and significance in our daily lives.
The Limitations of Recording the Actual
Language is often seen as a means of recording and conveying information about the world around us. We use words to describe people, places, objects, and events, attempting to capture their essence and characteristics. However, as Burgess notes, language is not merely a passive recorder of reality. If it were, it would be limited to simply documenting facts and figures, without any room for interpretation, creativity, or innovation.
Liberating the Imagination
The true power of language lies in its ability to transcend the mundane and ordinary, to tap into our imagination and creativity. Through language, we can conjure up worlds, characters, and scenarios that are entirely fictional, yet eerily relatable. We can use words to evoke emotions, to paint vivid pictures, and to convey complex ideas and concepts. Language becomes a tool for self-expression, allowing us to channel our thoughts, feelings, and experiences into something tangible and meaningful.
The Role of Metaphor and Symbolism
One of the key ways in which language liberates the imagination is through the use of metaphor and symbolism. By comparing two seemingly unrelated things, we can create new meanings and associations, revealing hidden connections and patterns. Metaphors and symbols can transport us to new realms of understanding, enabling us to see the world from fresh perspectives. For example, when we describe a person as a “ray of sunshine,” we are not merely recording a fact, but rather using language to evoke a sense of warmth, happiness, and optimism.
The Importance of Imagination in Human Experience
Imagination is a fundamental aspect of the human experience, enabling us to dream, to innovate, and to create. It is through imagination that we can envision new possibilities, challenge existing norms, and push the boundaries of what is thought possible. Language, as a liberator of the imagination, plays a vital role in this process, providing us with the tools to express ourselves, to communicate our ideas, and to bring our visions to life.
Conclusion
Anthony Burgess’s statement reminds us that language is not just a utilitarian tool but a powerful catalyst for creativity and imagination. By recognising the dual nature of language, we can harness its potential to liberate our imagination, to express ourselves authentically, and to create new worlds, characters, and scenarios. As we continue to navigate the complexities of the human experience, we must prioritise the imagination, using language as a tool to inspire, innovate, and bring our most fantastical ideas to life. In doing so, we can unlock the full potential of language and unleash the imagination that lies within us all.
Pro Tip: Visit in autumn when golden leaves contrast with grey concrete, or summer for lush greenery. Bring a flashlight and a sense of adventure.
Pack your curiosity—and maybe a flashlight. The real Tallinn is waiting.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 