I was drawn to the sign in Old Town Tallinn – Meistrite Hoov – Masters’ Courtyard.
An alcove unseen, unless you are standing at the entrance, filled with artisan shops and a single cafe – Chocolats de Pierre.
The cafe has just opened and I duck my head to step up under the entranceway.
It is like walking into a nineteenth-century dining room, or possibly a drawing room, if not for the many mismatched antique tables and chairs.
On a stone wall hangs a framed diploma, large as a poster, from a conference in Rome in 1911.
Military uniforms of various unrecognizable ranks hang from the walls, lamps, and coat racks.
A painting of a noble lady in a blue dress commands a wall near the “no photo” sign.
An antique writing desk is adorned with an old typewriter, a hand-wound clock, and fragile booklets resembling old business ledgers.
At my table, a small classical lamp with yellow tassels hanging from a burgundy shade.
I ask the server for a recommendation and select her preferred pastry, a coffee, and because I cannot pass up the craftsmanship of a French-trained chocolatier, I select one of Pierre’s chocolates, one with cherry flavouring and decorated with caramel.
I take my time, savour the pastry.
I savour the chocolate even more. Mmm.
The chocolate tastes as love feels.
I drink my coffee to the sound of early twentieth-century Eastern European music crackling through a hidden speaker, and I imagine it is the early 1920s in Estonia, the czars have fallen, the German occupation of World War I has ended, and all of the world breathes possibility.
