Later, wandering around the old town, I found evidence of the Estonian Banksy:
And some confusing signage. Err, we're in Estonia?!?
*Looks below and sniggers*
Okay it's Flemish and means something like "look in the kitchen" (ironic as it's a gunpowder tower: if you were to do that, you'd get your head blown off!), but it sounds rooooode..... ; )
Meanwhile back in the pub, the name of the kids meal shows that political correctness probably hasn't reached the Baltic yet... Plus a mention in despatches has to go to the shopping centre on the port.
Ground floor - clothes, cheap booze and general tat.
First floor - clothes and solarium.
Second floor - 'private massage booths'.
Third floor - well, whilst I don't understand Estonian or Russian, I think it's safe to say it was a full-on knocking shop!! Taking a look at the dog-rough women on the ground floor, my surmisal is that it wasn't a particularly classy joint ; )
Still, I'm sure the sailors on shore leave had fun....
