Stag Weekend Becomes A Moveable Feast
A Stag Weekend Becomes a Moveable Feast
One Lucky Stag Has a Taste of Heaven in Estonia's Thumping
Capital
There's a lot to love about a stag weekend in Tallinn. Right
now all I could hear was 'Void you like another beer?', and all
I could see was row upon row of straight, white, perfect
Estonian teeth and long, shiny, blonde Estonian hair. The
waitress, and owner of said teeth and hair, was asking for the
Brazillianth time: 'Beer. Do-you-want-another-one?' Even though
it was my stag night which made me emperor and overlord of all I
surveyed, I couldn't even muster eye contact and so just
nervously spluttered out a well rehearsed 'Jah!' Sweet. Beer in
the form of the fine 'Le Coq Premium' would be soon on its way
and, well, I had to admit that my Estonian was coming along
beautifully. But before the beer could even be pulled from the
beer pulling thing, before Miss Estonia could even return to
service our table, the lights dimmed and there was a venerable
hush. And after what had to be the slowest minute known to man,
a vision appeared like a phoenix rising. Or something. Just 23
and a half hours earlier I had been arguing about the price of
insulation batts in Reading Argos and now, before me stood - or
rather lay - a moveable feast in every sense of the word. She
was Tanya. She was 22. She was from Haapsalu. Or was it
Hishpalaa? Somewhere west of the capital. She was naked. She had
our dinner strategically placed on her 22 year old perfect
Estonian body. She was very talented.
In Japan, this practice is called nyotaimori and the name
literally means 'adorned body of a woman' and for the next three
hours the unlimited beer flowed and me and my twenty-nine best
friends wined, dined and hatched plans about escaping management
consultancy and setting up our own bar in down town Tallinn. Or
maybe we could open up an English school. Or an academy for
young ladies wanting to be learned in the ways of contemporary
British life. My Tallinn stag weekend was only half a day old
and it was fast surpassing Skegness as my holiday destination of
choice. We toasted to the Saku the finest Estonian lager to pass
my lips, to Reading topping the table and to Tanya's left thigh.
We toasted to Tallinn's remarkable ability to produce the
highest concentration of the fit birds per square mile and, of
course to me and my upcoming nuptials. We were still toasting
when we left Tanya half covered in dessert and fig leaves and
little else. We were toasting the magnificent delights of
Tanya's right thigh in a rather loud manner, lager and le Coqs
in hand, when we noticed what seemed to be a troupe of troopers
walking in our general direction.
Crazy-Tallinn-street-cleaners-who-just-couldn't-part
-with-their-soviet-army-fatigues (to them it would always be
1989). We toasted to 1989. To Berlin. To Gorbachev. To Reagan.
To Yeltsin, who we were all sure was very certain of the
infinite native delights of Estonia. To the greatest stag
weekend ever. Thank you Tanya, wherever you may be, Tanan and
Head ood! Thank you and good night. I will never look at grilled
Greek pork in the same way again.
David Finlay spoke to Amalia Illgner. We are pleased to
announce that David is now a happily married man with a house
full of white goods in Reading.
Special Thanks to Chillisauce for organizing David's Tallinn
stag weekend. For more information see: http:/
/www.chillisauce.co.uk/stag-weekends/tallinn/