The problem now was how to enjoy a day of riding in the park -- we'd finally reached it -- and cross back over the distance we'd covered plus what we'd ride that day -- all by 11:30-ish next morning (the bikes were to be returned at around that time and, more importantly, John had to teach at noon-thirty). We called City Bike to see if they were running any park tours that day -- maybe they could pick us up? No, there were no customers, so no tours, and no ride. A special trip would cost us $80. They suggested we try finding our way back by bus. Given our luck with Baltic bus service, we doubted having much luck getting us, never mind the bikes, back to Tallinn that way. We decided to remain optimistic and enjoy the day despite having no exit strategy.
I've already described how not-far we got that morning due to poorly-marked trails and run-ins with angry guard dogs (if you missed it, it's described about mid-way through this post). We decided to ditch the backwoods route, got back on the road out of Kolga, and rode to Vosu, where we'd arranged to stay, but didn't, the previous night. The Lonely Planet described this as a "resort town". The desolate shell of the boarded-up Merehotell, the abandoned cafes and unkempt beach-side buildings indicated otherwise. Granted, it was still early in the season, but, at first glance, there didn't appear to be much in the way of tourism and related industry. Beach parking was in abundance, however; Vosu is more likely a favourite day-trippers' destination.
We found Vosu's only open cafe, had a hearty Estonian lunch, then dropped in at the Rannaliiv guesthouse for info. The proprietor was very helpful despite being stood up the night before. She said there'd be a bus at 18:53 that evening; if empty, as it usually was, it might allow the bikes. We told her we'd give that a try, and to expect us for the night if that didn't work out. We got back on the bikes, headed through neighbouring Kasmu, and enjoyed some sun-dappled pedalling through the erratic boulders to the peninsula's point.
We turned back and took in the peninsula's other corner; in summer, you can walk the rocks out to Saartneem, the island in the distance.
In commemoration of our journey into nature, a still-photo animation; I call it "Portrait of John in 3 Acts":We headed back to Vosu town centre and bus-stop with plenty of time to fret and stress about what size of bus might pull up, and speculate just how annoyed a bus driver might be when faced with dumb-bell foreigners who hoped to load their bicycles onto the bus. We didn't know what to expect when a mid-sized passenger bus pulled up; the bus driver said "no" when we pointed to the bikes and asked if the bus went to Tallinn -- were these refusals, grunts or other? He then started nodding, jumped out and opened the back-hatch -- there was room for one of the bikes. We took the front wheel off the other one, and loaded it into the aisle. We paid 15 EEKs each to board (about $1.50). We were on a bus, and we saw that it was good. But something wasn't quite right -- the Lonely Planet said buses from Vosu to Tallinn would run about 55 EEK.
The bus headed right back to the peninsula, and filled up completely in Kasmu. We reached a place called Vihasoo, and the bus pulled over and parked. Everyone piled off. Were we to get off, too? A young girl stepped up to assist in English, informing us that we'd also have to disembus. She instructed us to ride 2-3 kms to "Kotka," where we'd catch a bigger bus to Tallinn from the gas station bus-stop. One should be passing by at around 8 o'clock. Or we could ride 12 kms to "Loksa" and catch a bus there, either way.
The other passengers huddled by the highway. Clockwork: their mini-bus connection to Tallinn pulled up moments later. They were off to the capital, and we mounted our bikes, off to Kotka, wondering how likely it was that this next, supposedly "larger" bus, would be willing to take us on. Wondering whether we'd spend the night snuggling up to an erratic boulder. Wondering whether there were any "M's" in Kotka.
7:45, Kotka gas station. Checked in with the ladies at the gas station kiosk (this road-stop-'n'-shop doing far more trade in 0.5 L cans of Gin Long Drink than petrol). Sure enough, the bus would be by shortly. Good thing, too, since the sun was on its way out. The 7:55 was a city bus, with long-distance fares. Electronic doors in the front, middle and back. The driver saw the bikes and open sesame'd the middle doors, entrance graciously granted to our bulky, two-wheeled charges. We shared the standing space with a perambulator, balancing our bikes and blocking the middle exit for the entire trp, happy to be heading back towards the cityscape.
Though we'd left just before noon the day prior, it felt like we'd been gone a week. Heading into the Estonian countryside was a bit like passing through some kind of Einsteinian time-space wormhole. Though distances are rather small -- especially when compared to Canadian ones -- no roads are absolutely straight, and there's a tendency for point-A not to meet point-B. The sense is that you've covered an enormous amount of territory and come across a vast number of things and sights. In Vosu and Kasmu, we really did feel like we were on another planet -- maybe that just comes with the pine-fresh air, maybe the spray from the Gulf of Finland, maybe we were under the spell of forest sprites. Despite the twists and turns, this was a magical day and a half.
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