Saaremaa Circle – Travel Diary

Ultra-slow exploration around Estonia’s biggest island on two-wheels (or three if to include the trailer), covering around 600 km in two weeks. The direct route is 250 to 300 km in total, but I explored many detours, inland trips, and side routes.

9th of July – Kuressaare to Valjala

The shop assistant didn’t raise her gaze from my shoes when she handed me the key to the toilets. Only after I finished and tried to close the door did I discover it was for the men. Seemed more people were interested in using the loo than in buying something. So was I and walked out straight to the cheaper shop around the corner. After I got some water, I went to collect my trailer. It was there as the message had promised, and I spent an hour sweating and fiddling assembling it. The post office workers gave me strange looks when I left an hour later. I waved. The bike, loaded with panniers, rucksack and dragging a trailer held together as was somehow more stable than last year. I was waiting for something to fall off, twist or burst, but nothing happened. The first 6 km along the bike route went by like a breeze. Kidding. It was actually quite hard to pull everything together. I couldn’t believe it was only 6 km, stopped by a bench and ate a nectarine. 32 km to go.
The kilometres passed slowly. The road was relatively quiet, and the scenery pleasant. I’d taken a road closer to the coast, but apart from one glimpse of the sea near Kuressaare, I was mainly surrounded by trees or fields. After what seemed like ages, I arrived at the church. Glad to have an excuse to dismount the bike, I left it in the shade behind the bus stop and went in to investigate. I peeked inside, where three visitors suddenly began to sing loudly and in Russian. I backed out again and took some photos of the exterior. There was nothing more to do, so I pedalled on. I had seen a shop around halfway to the B&B on the map. This would be my next stop, I decided. A group of cows watched me approach, and they bolted with fear. I guess I did look pretty scary for them in a high-vis vest. The cars took mostly respectful arcs around me, only one whizzed directly past me, giving the bike a wobble. They were probably chuckling as I tried to straighten my course again. What seemed like ages later, I arrived at the shop in Sandla. One person sat outside and watched me approaching. I walked in. There was no one. I browsed a bit and chose a soft drink. The owner rushed out from the back and charged me 70 cents. A bargain. I sat outside and ate the sandwich I made earlier. The sun was warm, the wind was gentle, but I had to move on. I returned the can, and the owner gave me 10 cents, a nice gesture. I took it. When I cycled out, now two people sat by the wall and watched.
I felt perked up and the next couple of kilometres passed by. There was a batch of new-cut forest on the left, and I saw a deer jumping out and crossing the forest floor towards the trees. She’d been nibbling on the bark. It was a lovely, quiet route. Nothing happened for the next few kilometres, apart from me getting a little closer slowly. I arrived at a school building and turned left towards some lovely fields in the evening light. It’s a quiet route, I thought and stopped to take a picture. The car was immediately behind me. I swerved to the right. 4 more kilometres of pedalling before I arrived at a neat building – my stay for the night, Lause Guesthouse.
I pushed my bike over neat grass near the gate, but no one appeared. After a phone call, I walked to the main building and knocked. The hostess Ivi appeared with a kind smile and asked if I’d prefer the barn to the tent. I did, and she showed me around. After I’d freshened up a bit, we sat outside and talked. She went away, then appeared again as I boiled water for noodles. It seemed she just genuinely wanted to connect. I made coffee and listened and patted the little dog – Japanese gin Juss. When we ran out of things to say, I retired to my barn and wrapped myself in the sleeping bag, writing the diary and listening to the wild cranes passing by, shouting into the night sky with glee. 

10th of July – Kaali meteorite crater

I woke up at around 8. Nothing really woke me, so I was surprised to feel good after a long, arduous day of cycling. I stretched myself out and listened to the wind rattling the old barn. I finally got up at 9 for the shower. At 9.30, I was in the dining area and my hostess Ivi appeared with an omelette. She joined me for breakfast and we had a long talk about vets, her work, politics (local) and politics (global). I finally left at 11.30. I stopped at Valjala church. The church itself was in renovation, but I had a good look from the other side. The village centre had a service house and a shop. I bought salad and sat at the rest area watching the sheep. Until the council grass trimmer ended the idyll.
I cycled onto the main road to Kuressare. Which had surprisingly smooth asphalt. Definitely better than the bike path the day before. The trucks and a bus wizzed by, and despite the smoothness, I wished to be elsewhere. So when a dirt road appeared on the right, I took it and was immediately covered with dust from a passing car. Definitely not as smooth, but much quieter, the road wound through settlements leading to Kõljala manor, which looked deserted. It was an impressive building, but overgrown with vegetation. I wondered why no one had picked it up and renovated it into a luxury hotel. It did have potential.
5 minutes more cycling and I arrived at the first crater of the Kaali meteoroid site. It was a 3-by-3 m hole in the ground. I wasn’t very impressed. I was much more impressed, though, when I arrived at the main crater. Over 100 m in diameter, it is an impressive sight, albeit a tourist attraction. I took some photos and walked down a staircase. The water was green and murky, and the council had decided to perk it up with some waterlilies. I wasn’t sure beautifying the archaeological site of European importance was exactly justified. I climbed up the steep path opposite, just then realising it wasn’t official, when the bar of the viewing platform blocked my way. I circled back to where I’d left my bike and went to check out the visitor centre. It had a rather touristy feeling, so I skipped it and went to the loo. I was probably the only tourist this hour to contribute to the tipping jar. Everyone else just walked past. I got a can of Pepsi from the shop and looked for a place to enjoy it, but didn’t find a resting area, so I cycled on.
After a few kilometres of the smooth-pavement tourist routes, I turned right onto a village road. The first bus stop had an underused bench completely devoured by an ant nest. In the distance was a herd of cows behind an old-fashioned drinking container. The next bus stop had a bench, and I devoured my cold (now slightly less so) soft drink. The next kilometres were hard. I cycled against the wind, wobbling right and left. Then I realised this actually made cycling easier. I stopped two more times to eat muesli bars (an excuse for stopping). I already knew this route from yesterday, and it didn’t reveal anything new. When I finally walked through the gate of my guesthouse with stiff feet, it was several hours later than I’d planned. 
Note. I completely forgot. The first stop I made in the morning was at the Valjala fort – a medieval fort that was impressive even now. I was the only guest, so I climbed up and imagined how it would be to attack and defend it. Watching the enemy approach miles away. Hard to imagine now with all the trees, but it certainly used to be an open countryside. I made a circle around the wall and picked wild strawberries at the top. They were quite small and a bit raw, so I sat on a picnic table and ate strawberries Ivi had packed with me. It was just as special a place, but lacked the tourist trap feeling I had later in Kaali. It was just simple and authentic. 

11th of July – Laidunina nature trail

I woke up a lot later than I intended. The breakfast was laid out on the table, but others had already finished. I piled some porridge on the plate as Ivi arrived and asked if I needed anything. She was about to catch a ferry to the mainland for work. Her son Silver appeared, and we talked about his job, my work and both of our travels until it was time to pack up and leave. ‘If anything happens, give me a call,’ he said as we said goodbye by the gates. 100 m on and the trailer flipped over. I adjusted the lock, and luckily it held. The first few kilometres passed uneventfully as I’d already cycled this route four times. I felt good as the trailer held and the route wasn’t busy. And then I saw it – a deer lying by the roadside, beautiful brown eyes wide and lifeless. I stopped and called the short number to report a road casualty. It was sad as I just watched them last night, so beautiful, happy and full of life. What bastard just left her lying there? I felt down as I pedalled on. The dirt track turned right, and I contemplated whether I should take it. I had a couple of hours to kill before I could check in to my farm stay, and it wasn’t too far.
I bumped through bump holes, and when the road ended, the view opened up to a really nice rest area with a swimming spot. I changed and took a dip; it was freezing. I cooked myself some noodles and sat next to the beach, eating from a pot and watching the birds. I had more Ivi’s strawberries for dessert and was contemplating whether I should make some coffee when a camper van pulled into the parking lot. I decided to move on. My mood was better, and I decided to take a shortcut through the forest. Another potholed route, but definitely better than the motorway. I passed fields of rye and stone walls and pedalled through a forest for a while. I noticed a large sign on the right, but kept going, not wanting to stop the trailer.
More beautiful wheat fields along the scenic route, then bits of forest and as the clock struck five, I was pulling in the courtyard of Kotka farm. I met owner Kadri, who seemed very nice and a couple of small dogs, one of them a rescue. Her Finnish husband kept in the background. She showed me where I was going to stay for a night, and we agreed I could stay for the second night if I switched rooms. Kadri showed me where everything was and pulled out a map to show the best cycling routes. She wasn’t going to be here the next day, but we could catch up when she was back. I planned to go to the shop, but decided to skip it and cycle back towards Laidunina. I was paying slightly more for the accommodation than budgeted (but far less than the full prices would have been), and I still had plenty of dry food. I cycled back to where I had been coming from previously. The sun was warm, and the bike was light without a trailer. I arrived at the same sign as before and saw it was a map of the local coastal route.
The Sääremäe-Laidunina hiking trail was a connection of islets, and as I soon found out, not passable with dry feet. I left my bike in the juniper bushes and waded through the water along the path. I heard voices, but it was hard to place where they came from, the path or from the fishermen on the sea. The path got drier, and I had glimpses of the bay through the reeds. It seemed to be a popular fishing spot as I happened upon a family of a father and two young kids. And a considerably wider canal between two islets. I walked into the water and looked at the raft floating in the middle. I pulled the rope, but it didn’t move. I had to go into the water and pull myself onto the raft to untie the knot. It was relatively easy to pull the raft across. I hoped it would be there when I got back. The sky was getting darker, and the thunderstorm was in the distance. I found a spot with a low bench and had my dinner of chips. It was worth it to skip the shop. Flocks of seabirds flew overhead, and the herons came with their long white bodies and funny necks.
The sky darkened more, and I decided to head back, happily thinking about my raft waiting for me. It was on the opposite side, of course. I found the rope and pulled. It was dead stuck. Why? I removed my trousers and shoes and waded through the water to the opposite side. Only then did I see it was also fastened. Nothing beats the pettiness of a smug Estonian bloke. I wondered what example this shows to the kids? I sat down, watched the bay and ate my remaining nuts. It really was a beautiful place. The first raindrops fell as I pulled away from the car park. I saw a backside and tail disappear into the bushes. I sent out a prayer for her to be safe and stay away from the cars. When I turned to the main road, it really started to thunder. I didn’t want to be in the area as the lightning flashed across the sky, so it was a quick journey back. I settled into my porch, drinking tea and writing a diary as the lightning bolts kept dancing in the sky, bringing a wall of rain. 

12th of July – Kübassaare peninsula

What a beautiful day. I woke up around nine and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. As I didn’t go to the shop, I had to settle for porridge and coffee. I ate outside and read a map to plan my day. Also, read the price list and noticed they sold eggs. I knocked on the main door, and Kadri’s Finnish husband came to answer alongside barking dogs. I asked for some eggs in Finnish and he fetched a box. I took two and fried them in the pan. They were delicious. As it started to drizzle, I went inside. The mother and daughter I met yesterday appeared, and we discussed our plans for the day. It didn’t look like it was going to stop raining, so I put on my rain gear and cycled out. I was moving houses, so before I left, I took the bags to my new room, where the previous night’s guests had vacated.
I decided to take the small path towards the Kübassaare nature area, but it was soon clear it wasn’t used anymore. I crossed the cow gates and pushed forward on the overgrown path. The path was quite wet, but as it turned out, this was just a start. After a while, the path almost disappeared, but I persisted and found myself next to an inlet. I’d clearly missed the right turn. Eventually, I came upon a larger dirt road and naively assumed the worst part was over. The rest of the day, I was wading through the puddles, mud slurping between my toes. I kept going as the path got gradually worse. At some point, I found myself behind a gate and fearing I was on private land, lifted the bike over. As I was foraging wild strawberries on the other side, a car appeared and, with no fuss, opened the gate. I greeted them, but the woman waved back in sign language. I nodded, and both cars crawled by, making their way through the puddles. So did I.
The scenery started to get better, and I cycled between stone walls. I stopped to admire the view when the first car came back. The man signed ‘closed’ to me, but I decided to push on. When I came to the fork of the road, the path ahead was a pile of mud. A motorbike appeared, then another, then four more. If they got through this, I thought, so will I. Someone had marked this place as an enduro track on Google Maps with a smiley. It was only passable on a motorbike or ATV. Or on foot, pushing a bike, ankle deep in mud. On the bright side, both sides of the path were lined with wild strawberries. I’ve never seen so many. A bright side-effect of a non-passable path. Eventually, the view opened up and I found myself on Välta Dam. It felt like an achievement, so I stood in the middle and took some photos. There was another gate at the end. I greeted the man opposite, but he thought I want him to open the gate. He signed me he didn’t know how, but helped anyway. I realised it’s a gathering for people with hearing and speech impairments.
I passed the bunch of people and cars and descended by the water to clean myself up. I pushed the bike into the water and scraped off the worst mud from it and myself. I then lay under the warm sun and dried myself. The cars had left, so I was completely alone. The beautiful dry road took me past a herd of cows and a fox, which ran through the herd and looked at me from a distance. So many animals. And birds. I decided to take another shortcut through Kakuna, hoping there would be a connection with Kübassaare. My first attempt took me to the gated Kaldu harbour. On the second attempt, I found the right turn, which immediately turned into puddles. But it took me to the other side and widened to a good path. I crossed another cow gate and admired the unspoilt scenery, when I came across fields of strawberries. I picked them in palmfuls and ate them in the warm sun. Life was perfect at that moment. Eventually, I moved on, though I would happily stayed there forever.
More puddles and a cow gate, and I was finally on the main track to Kübassaare. It would be an easy ride from now on, I thought. The first part of the journey wasn’t too bad. I passed open views with circling eagles, another deer, which quickly jumped into the grass and a few cars, which had made it through. Clearly purposeful fishermen. But as the open landscape ended, the forest started again and more mud and larger puddles. I waded through thinking it would be worth it. When the lighthouse finally appeared, it was underwhelming. An industrial complex being renovated. The small harbour had some fishermen, so I had a quick look and returned to the same mud track. I missed the bank, where I had intended to have my supper of chocolate and muesli bar, but I found a promising track heading towards the sea.
It was a beautiful spot, perfect for a camper van. As I didn’t have one, I ate my provisions and cleaned myself up again, eventually deciding to have a skinny dip. I dried myself in the sun and breeze. Life was perfect at this moment. I lazily redressed and watched the seabirds through my binoculars. I was hoping to see a seal, but I guess it wasn’t their spot. I cleaned my bike again and pedalled on lazily, stopping often and reaching for binoculars. The path eventually became smoother, then paved and then the cars appeared. I worried for the animals, the deer, foxes and the cats and said a prayer for them all being safe tonight from cars. I arrived back at half past nine and had missed my ticket to the sauna. I had some noodles and coffee and talked to the mother-daughter duo and the fisherman, who sit in the hallway for the better wifi. We asked how many fish he had caught in the day. ‘About fifty’, he said. We probably looked a bit aghast, so he added,’ I only kept two. We let others back. Its sport fishing’. The three of us retired at 11, leaving him to cook his supper. It smelled delicious.

Day 4: This was probably my favourite day – no big sights, but many small delights – nature spotting, picking wild strawberries on a meadow and going for a skinny dip.

13th of July – Maasi fort-castle

I woke up earlier than I expected, as I was drying my wet clothes until 2 AM. The bathroom was taken, so I washed outside at a sink. I packed and went to cook breakfast at half past ten. Kadri asked if I needed anything with my porridge and brought me a jar of apple jam. We talked quite a bit as she was making up rooms and I was having breakfast. Of travels, politics, her guests and reviews. She stunned me with stories about what some people don’t like – trees, recycling, grass and so on. I told her she shouldn’t worry about anything, she’s running a perfect farm stay. I packed and kept forgetting things, and didn’t leave before twenty to one. When I was out on the main road, I realised I had forgotten my porridge oats, but oats were my main food for two days, so I didn’t miss them too much.
I stopped at Tornimäe in the hope of getting some warm food, but the cafe was closed. I stocked up on my food supplies at the shop and asked if I could eat in front of the cafe. I devoured two salads and a dessert. As I was pulling out, the bike trailer went out of balance, and as I was trying to hold everything up, a cyclist passed. I waved, but they didn’t stop. Why would they? The trailer flipped over, and I spent some time reattaching everything. I saw one of the men of the group crossing the street with cocky step, a tiny backpack on his back. They were probably cycling the whole island in two days, backup car following behind and staying in luxury hotels, not barns.
The next kilometres were quite uneventful as I was approaching the main access hub to the mainland. Only there were wider junctions and more cars. I quickly passed over the roundabout and kept pedalling towards Orissaare. I already had plenty of food, so I got some cash from the machine as a little boy pointed a toy rifle at me. I’m not sure if he was planning to rob me. I was cycling close to the coast now and got glimpses of the sea. In a few kilometres, I turned right towards the Maasi fortress ruins. It was a tourism magnet and had the usual crowd – cars pulling in, people getting out, quick walk around, back in the car, next stop. I used the facilities and climbed up the walk. I looked around, snapped a couple of pics and walked back down. As I was pulling out, the back wheel cover came loose. In addition to the attachment to the trailer I already fixed. So I fiddled with the bike for half an hour.
The road continued to be uneventful, part of a surprising stretch of new paved cycle strip. I enjoyed it for the whole 2 km it lasted. Ansumardi was ducked into a small village off the main road. A group of kids were playing outside, and I asked for the hostess. She appeared and showed me around. It was a very similar set-up to other home stays – the main house, barn, where I was staying and separate kitchen/washrooms. I showered, ate and sat outside with a coffee, listening to the bees buzzing in the bushes. When the kids started to play basketball, I decided to make space and went for a walk. The road was covered with snails. I tried to save some from being squashed by car wheels. My empathy cooled a little when I saw they were munching on the ones that had. 

14th of July – Angla Windmill Park

What a strange day! When I woke up, my first priority was to book my next stay. I had to phone the bank as the payment for booking kept failing. But we worked through it, and I was calmer once the apartment was booked. Again, no camping. I had breakfast and planned my day. I decided to follow a tourist route down to Windmill Farm. The map I had showed a steep curve to the right, so I was following a dirt track, thinking this must be it. The road did look a bit odd, but I didn’t think much of it as I’d seen much worse. At the first house, a kid and a dog ran out, and the concerned mother followed, joined by a father for backup. I showed my map and explained my plan. They said I’d got it wrong, but the route will lead out eventually. I kept talking about my journey, where I’d already been and where I was going, trying to build some trust. They gave me some tips and I pedalled on.
A couple of houses on, I saw a man in the yard and said hello. He appeared promptly and started to chat. I repeated my story about my journey, he gave me a crash course on the area, his own story, and I shared my family story. We eventually established a common ground through a place we had both connections with. A couple of hundred metres on, I passed a greenhouse and a woman jumped out from a little garden. ‘Hi, would you like to have some coffee?’ ‘Sure. ’ To the immense surprise of the husband, I was invited in, while she was preparing the tray. I had to explain to her husband who I was, what my gear was like and where I was going. The third time. We then sat in the pretty greenhouse and drank coffee, me over-explaining my journey, why I had free time and what I was actually doing. It also dawned on me quite quickly that she had invited me in because she thought I was local. As she was talking, the second man appeared on a bike and looked rather surprised to see me. I made my excuses and left.
The path eventually took me back to the main road, and I imagined what they would think of their unexpected guest. But as the sun came out, I decided not to worry about it and went for a swim. The water was cool, but I swam along the shallow coast until it started to feel warm. I crawled back to the pier, reaching out into the water and sat on the edge, letting the sun dry me. I had a pie and some fruit from yesterday and watched as the families drove in, walked on the pier, took a photo, walked back to the car and drove off.
The next kilometres were rather uneventful. I was heading to the inner part of the island, covered with farms and pasturing cow herds. I loved seeing cows out in the field. They looked happy. I passed fields of poppies and saw quaint villages. I was just admiring the bus stop when a sign of neighbourhood surveillance prominently displayed caught my eye. The strangers were not especially welcome here. I cycled on. After turning off the main route, I arrived at the new village community house. No one was there, so I stopped for a moment and took a photo. It was Monday after all, and unlike the coastal folk, the inner island population was at work.
Although the only people I saw working were the bin men and the girl with a big smile at the entrance of Windmill Park. I asked if I had to pay if I wanted to eat. She said no and I had my first warm meal in four days. I had pork and kvass, and they were both delicious. A woman sat at a nearby table facing me, and I said she would have a better view of the windmills if she’d switch sides. She thanked him for a tip and moved before her companions arrived. The terrace quickly filled with eaters. When I left, a group of posh cyclists arrived. No one smiled.
The route back wasn’t particularly interesting, but the cars here seemed faster and more intrusive of my space. I missed the quieter south. At Leisi shop, I met a female bike-packer from Finland. She’s just got off a ferry. I gave her my map – the misleading one- and admired her for wild camping. She asked me information of different kinds, but it felt like she saw me as some kind of information point rather than a person. It was a little bit patronising. But she could have been just tired. When I got back, I realised I’d only taken 5 photos that day. It really had been an odd day, and the sun had lured out the tourists I didn’t see on the south coast. I decided it’s time to move on to more wild places in the west.

15th of July – Tuhkana beach

Another funny day. I woke up and packed. This has become a routine now. I didn’t see a soul in the morning, even when I pushed the bike out from the yard at exactly 12 o’clock – the first time I made it in time. The first part of the road was already familiar as I cycled it twice yesterday. I made up a song as I pedalled – ‘kiira, kaara, tiira, taara’ and so on to amuse myself as I covered the curves. The trailer decided to unattach itself at every stop for no reason. I stopped at Leisi’s shop, but didn’t go in. The road gradually grew wider and prettier. Especially when I turned away from the main road towards Sõela Harbour. I turned into the RMK camping site, but it was too close to the parking and had attracted some partying types. I left to find a quieter spot.
A couple of hundred metres down the road, I found another pocket that was empty and quiet. I parked my bike, and the trailer flipped over. I separated it from the bike and decided to reattach it afterwards. I made some noodles and tea and watched a pair of swans descending with noisy slaps. Apart from a few passing cars, it was a tranquil spot. I contemplated going for a swim, but I still had a long way to go and an unstable trailer, so I decided to move on. The Sõela harbour itself wasn’t anything special. Just another newly built site for yachts. I moved on. Tuhkana beach was quite far from the main road. Few cars were in the parking lot, but it wasn’t as busy as it would be on a sunny weekend.
I pushed the bike along the narrow path, towards the sea. The last bit was a boardwalk. I leaned the bike/trailer against the tree and went to investigate. The RMK campsite was empty and looked quite cosy, ducked behind the sand dunes. The beach was equally empty and grey. I saw some people further away. I walked into the water (cold) and a bit down the beach. The RMK site had two tables. I used the facilities and sat by one contemplating how it would be to stay there, when two figures appeared laden with stuff. I said hi and that they could have my table as I was leaving. They were from Lithuania and had a small white dog. But as I was struggling with my bike setup as usual, they didn’t offer any help. I was a bit disappointed as I just gave up a seat for them.
After a couple of kilometres, I cycled past a man and asked if the main road would come up soon. I told him where I was going, and he said he had his wedding in the Võhma Village house 40 years ago. I think after 6 days, he was the first native person I’d met. The Metsküla village looked very nice, and the surroundings were more natural. But the next kilometres were hard. The road zig-zagged like a drunken gait, and the cars raced past each other and me with dangerous speed. No one slowed down. I was really tired now – it was the longest day I had so far with the trailer. So I was really happy to see the Võhma village house appearing from the forest. I leaned my bike against a small side building and phoned the number I had. The woman opposite said she’d forgotten to send me the details and talked me through the entrance.
I carried my stuff inside and was wondering what to have for dinner as I saw a woman taking laundry outside. I walked out and said hi. She said her name is Elje and took me inside the building showing me every room in the house. It was full of beds. She then said she’s just cooked seven fish, and if I’d like some. Of course I did. I said I don’t have much food today. So she found me some bread, tomatoes, a bit of squash and coffee cream. I couldn’t have been happier and ate the fish in one go.  It was nice to enjoy some luxury even if the price was steeper for solo traveller than in previous places. And I’d had a full meal too. I spent the evening lazily washing my clothes and drying them with a luxurious heat pump, taking a shower that was inside the apartment and making a real coffee (not instant). Luxury indeed. 

16th of July – Bear Lake

I woke up rested, stretching myself on a comfy mattress. My first priority was to find a place for the night, so I phoned Värava farm, who said they are full, but I could camp. This sorted, I made myself coffee and spotted the hostess Elje outside. I took my coffee and explained I was going to check out a bit later. We talked for an hour. She showed me the videos of her folk dance group. They were really good. I was finally packed by half past 12 and went to see the Panga Cliff. It was a bit underwhelming. I sat on the stone wall and ate my sandwich as the cars rushed in and families poured out. The road here was narrow, but no one slowed down. I cycled back to the village and it started to pour down heavily. I fetched my things, said goodbye and pedalled towards Mustjala in the thunder and lightning.
As I was pulling in front of the shop, my trailer started to flip again, and a man asked immediately if I needed some help. I declined, but was chuffed to be offered. People were definitely friendlier in this part of the island. I bought some food and asked how far the next Coop was. Two guys with huge backpacks were also shopping, and I met them outside. They said they were cycling the whole island in three days and sleeping wild in the hammocks. I asked about their experience and wished them luck.
The lightning was still flashing overhead as I was turning to Värava farm. The hostess was outside and showed me the campsite. As we were walking towards it, something wiggled just in front of my wheel. It was a small copper snake. I turned just before I would have squashed her. I put my tent up and, before the group event started, made my way out again. I wanted to see Bear Lake – the largest lake of Saaremaa. It was beautiful and tranquil. I went knee deep into the water and admired the quiet reflections until a swimmer came for a dip. I took a forest path back, following a new hiking trail, which led to a smaller lake. I was back by 10 and passed the group in the height of the party. The voices were high and jolly, and the music played the folksy tunes. As I was having my coffee, some people from the group asked me about my journey before returning to their huts, all concluding I was very brave to be out on my own. 

17th of July – Ninase peninsula

It was getting harder to keep up the diary routine at the evenings and it starts to become more scattered.
I woke up around 8 and heard the jolly group heading to dine. The sun was warm, and I stretched out. At nine, I took the shower, and when they left, I headed for breakfast. The hostess looked a bit worn out, and I offered some help, which she firmly declined. So I prepared for a day (very hot) and headed out. I took a shortcut through the fields. A tractor came from the opposite side, and the driver looked at me like an oddity. The path had nearly grown over. I ate some strawberries and pedalled on. The sun was scorching, so I stopped at the first opportunity to swim. It was a shallow stony beach and I just lay in the water. I took a photo when a family pulled in and went for a swim.
Not long after, I took a circuit to the beach and stopped by a noisy stretch of pine forest. I tried to determine what birds these were, but all my apps seemed confused. Soon after came the RMK campsite. It looked cosy, so I decided to have lunch. The table was covered with stripy insects I first thought were wasps. But I think they were something else. They also landed on me and on my bag and were quite tiresome. So I took one of the candies and placed it on the table. After a while, the sugary sweetness was covered with them. I was quite pleased with myself for solving the problem and providing nutrition to the colony, when one black headed ‘wasp’ broke the harmony and started to attack everyone. I looked on stunned as it rolled the smaller wasps with its legs and ripped their wings out. He managed to fight them all off. I had wanted to do some good, and now nearly all of them were broken or dead. I placed the disastrous sweets in the bin and moved on.
The path started to grow worse without the bonus views of the south. I was either in the forest or quite far from the coast. At some point, I saw something brown jumping on a tree. I wondered if there were bobcats here. It was just a pair of squirrels. After more mud, nettles and puddles, I finally came out to a coastal path, around 6 hours later than when I started. It was so hot, so I used the first opportunity to float in the water again. The whole coastline here was extremely stony. I lay on the rocks and dried myself in the sun. The heat started to give away a little. I noticed this stretch of the coast was covered with trash. All kinds of plastic with an odd mixture of labels – probably from a Chinese cargo ship. I wondered what these were doing here; it was everywhere. I eventually came out at Ninase Cliff and saw the Panga Cliff in the distance. The cliffs are best appreciated from afar.
On the way back, I noticed again how many snakes were killed by cars and started to save them from being run over. They were looking for the evening warmth of the road, but didn’t understand the threat. The grass snake lay almost in the middle of the road, an easy target for the next car, which would certainly come. I shooed it off, and it wiggled into the grass. A copper worm and a large beetle were next. As I pedalled back into the Värava farm, another copper snake was in the middle of the path. I guided it off the path and heard a car passing at full speed after ten minutes. After witnessing so many casualties, I felt better – at least these few don’t die on my watch. During the night, a shaggy white dog kept guard and chased off the fox looking for food next to my tent. 

18th of July – Tagamõisa peninsula

I heard voices near the tent at about 9 am and got up for a shower. A family was having breakfast in the outdoor kitchen. I headed to the main house for mine. There was only one other couple. As I ate, the hostess appeared, and I met her husband. She cooked me two eggs, and I talked about my experiences. I also learned the white shaggy dog was named Kiisu (Kitty) and was relatively famous on the island. I finished my breakfast, paid my bill and said goodbye. Outside, the couple, who were in the breakfast room, started to chat with me and said they were heading to a motorcycle convention. I talked a bit about my work. When I finally finished packing, it was a quarter to one. Later again.
I cycled a few kilometres uneventfully. When I stopped to view the map, the trailer suddenly flipped with no reason. For the first time, I managed to attach everything in the middle of the road. I was quite happy about my achievement when the back wheel started to wobble oddly. I tried to push on to the nearest support, but the mudguard came off completely. I attached it to the bag and cycled a couple of kilometres. Then decided to pull in the nearest RMK site. As I turned the bike to lean it against the tree, the trailer did the final flip, breaking the rod it was attached to. This is it, I thought, looking at the broken piece in my hand. Surprisingly, I felt very calm. I took out my cooking utensils and boiled some water for noodles. It was a beautiful spot. I ate slowly and had a dip in the water. It was so hot.
Then I called Valdo, who said he would come and pick up my trailer. He said he will be there in 20 minutes. In 20 minutes, he called again and said he’d leave now. I picked some blueberries in the forest and tried to make myself presentable. Eventually, I heard someone honking. He jumped out from a car, shirt sleeves open, and said he had to finish something before. I lifted my trailer to his trunk, and he took off. I pedalled slowly after him. It was so much easier without the trailer. I didn’t miss it. I passed a viewing point, but two girls, who looked like influencers, took photos of each other and lingered. I walked down the steps to the sea. My toe really hurt, a loose nail. I was breaking up just like the trailer after cycling and wading through mud for 50 km each day. After few kilometres I came out of a forest into a large open field. It was scorching. I saw another deer and an eagle. Then sat under a tree for 15 minutes.
When I finally arrived at Loode Farm. I stretched myself on he ground. I was finished. Valdo immediately took me to the shower block, but I insisted on seeing my room first. It was another barn room and looked cosy. I showered and immediately felt better. I then went to have a rest for a couple of hours before dinner. I got up again at a quarter past 8 and went back to the main house. He heated up some leftover risotto and made cucumber salad. They were both excellent. He then made coffee and suggested I drink it outside with other guests as he brought his violin. He played well and spun stories to go with his tunes. A performer. We chatted, and I started to ramble, exhaustion catching up with me. He finished his performance, and we went off to bed, wishing each other good night. 

19th of July

When I woke up, breakfast was on the table. Valdo said the others had left early and barely touched the food. I didn’t mention that perhaps they were slightly put off by the cloud of flies. This will be the conversation for tomorrow. I had my coffee outside and went to pack for a day. Valdo showed me a shortcut through the woods and past a lake on the map. But the trail was muddy again, and I’d had enough of muddling through the puddles.
Eventually, I ended up on an RMK resting area with camper vans. It was very hot. The walk to the beach was long. I left the bike behind the bushes and found an extensive beach behind the dunes. I hadn’t expected this. I walked down and decided to go to the water before I was completely roasted. To do this, I had to wade through a thick layer of seaweed. It wasn’t the pleasantest sensation, but beyond the water was clean and very cold. I wasn’t expecting that. Even lying down in shallow water was freezing. I found a narrow plank to go back and hid behind a reed bush for two hours.
At five, I decided to do the Kiipsaare lighthouse hike. But it was still so hot, so I sat down behind a pine tree for a while. The walk back was also long. I noticed a kiosk and walked over. I bought an ice-cream cone from the man and asked about the trail. He said you’d need to push the bike at some point. More bike pushing. I decided to take the easier route. I met three riders, and the horses looked very hot. Suddenly, the path ended and turned into the dunes. I left the bike, but a Polish family decided to push it on the dunes. I took the beach route. They were quicker than me and were already there by the lighthouse when I arrived. I walked a bit further and took some photos of the leaning tower. Then I looked for the stones with holes.
It was getting late, so I was heading back. On the road, I met a horse calf, which was outside the enclosure and phoned the nearby farm. When I got back, Valdo said he was going for a swim, but put some food on the table as I was showering. I ate and had the orange cat for company. He clearly wanted something, but I was too slow to understand. I also saw one other guest sneaking upstairs. She looked a little frightened. 

21st of July – RMK Visitor Centre

I missed a day as I had a really bad migraine yesterday to write. When I got back from my tour, I felt quite weak, and after a short swim in the lake, I was in bed at 9. Valdo appeared at some point and looked through the door, but left once I said I was not feeling well. In the morning, I was happy to see I had a reply to my request for a next stay. I walked out the door and saw a huge spiderweb had appeared overnight, just in front of the entrance. I was stunned by how quickly a spider works and was sad to break it, as there was no way around it. I was surprised to see Valdo had guests and took some coffee, which was the only thing I could stomach. I sat outside as the cooking oil smell in the house made me gag from my nausea. I was also thinking about the little legs of the flies on the cheese. Where else had they been? It was safe to say I had a mild food poisoning, which perhaps even he understood, as he showed his friends around, while I was sitting in the loo.
I packed and talked him through on what to do with the trailer I was sending back. I gave him an awkward hug, and he wished me a safe journey. While I was pedalling out, I met the courier on the way, who was just to pick up the parcel. I started to feel better once I got to the tarmac and sat at a bus stop, drinking mineral water Valdo gave me for the journey. It was very hot, but I felt so much lighter without the trailer. By the time I arrived at Kihelkonna Coop, I could already look at the food with interest. I stocked up and took some cash-back, briefly chatting with a Latvian couple who were cycling towards Tallinn. This was the second couple I met on the road who said.
I pedalled on to the RMK visitor centre. After looking around, I asked if I could eat outside under the shade of a tree. As I was eating, clouds gathered, and I heard thunder. I went inside and said I’d actually like a coffee. The woman in the centre put on a film for me as I waited for the rain to stop. It got better soon, and I continued my journey. Not long after, I came upon a very limp grass snake. ‘Not again, ’ I mumbled and stopped the bike to have a closer look. I examined it, and it didn’t look like it was struck by a car. But it was lifeless. I touched its body, and there was a very slight movement of the head. I found a stick and lifted it into the grass, but it just hung lifeless. This made me very sad, and I cycled on, but later I remembered grass snakes could play dead when they are threatened. I just hoped it was one very convincing grass snake in mid-performance bluff. And this made me like them even more.
When I arrived at my accommodation at Kipi-Koovi, my room wasn’t yet ready, so I went for a swim. After a high coastline, it was nice to be close the islets again. A local man in a tiny red car showed me the best way to get into the water. There was a lot of seaweed in the bottom, but the water was warm. I sat by the table with some fruit and drink, when a German couple appeared and asked if they could sit. They had their coffee and said they were from Leipzig. We talked for a while, then I realised they probably want to enjoy the place on their last evening and left them to it. I looked at the peninsula opposite through binoculars, and it was full of seabirds. I saw herons, flocks of geese, seagulls, of course and many others I couldn’t name. We were in their paradise now. I got back and found my room ready. There wasn’t much to do, and it was a bit odd to be amongst other travellers, so I ate and caught up with my writing. I also decided to visit the Vilsandi National Park the next day – a fitting end to my two-week journey. 

22nd of July – Vilsandi National Park

As this was my last full day, I wanted to do something special, and Vilsandi National Park was still on my list. I wasn’t going on the island, but I really wanted to see the walk along the islets I had heard so much of. I got some coffee from the nice host and had my breakfast in the room. I had to cycle past the shop to get some water and food for lunch. As I was turning towards Vilsandi, I saw a most amazing windmill. It was much nicer than the ones in the windmill park, and there was no one there. I climbed the steps to the windmill and tried to open the door, but it was stuck.
The road to Käkisilma was a good dirt road, and I was glad not to be on gravel as I had been for the past week. I also started to see birds. The air was somehow lighter than in previous days. The Käkisilma campsite looked well-maintained, but I wanted to have lunch on one of the islets. The tip of the peninsula wasn’t remarkable, and you couldn’t even see Vilsandi. I observed the water in front of me. It looked quite deep. I stepped slowly in and kept moving on the sharp rocks. The water didn’t reach over the knees. But when I reached the other, the path turned out to be not on land, but actually through the water. I kept going, determined to make it to the Käkisilma boat passage. With slow steps, I waded through the water, which was murky and muddy. I soon found out why.
As I reached the end of the Oostemadal and stood on the bit of dry land, I heard something big with a motor approaching. A huge truck appeared and made its way through the water. People from the passing boat pointed and gasped. I’m not sure how it drove through the 0,8 m passage, but it had made it across easily. I wasn’t up for it and turned back. Next time, and maybe on a boat. I observed wild boar tracks on the ground, and while I was having my picnic, I heard squealing in the reeds. I assume the mother boar was heading to the mainland with piglets. Suddenly, it got very busy. Some people arrived at the other end and contemplated crossing as two guys appeared from behind me. They had walked all the way through. I should have asked about the boat passage. The weather brightened up, and I made my way to the dry land, satisfied with what I had accomplished – even if I didn’t walk all the way, I had had the experience and was richer for it.
I cycled back the same way and decided to take a very straight and wide gravel road. There would have been a nicer path through, but I’m glad I did, as I met the same German woman I had given my map to a few days before. She was also planning to walk to Käkisilm as it was quite late to attempt the full journey. I turned towards Atla and at first really enjoyed the quirky local sights like a bus stop and notice board made of a boat. But when I reached the harbour, I got a feeling of wealth and privilege, which I hadn’t seen a lot elsewhere on the island. The next village, Karala, was more down-to-earth, and I browsed at their bus stop/library.
The way back was hot and arduous against the wind. A grass snake skipped over the road ahead, and I was overjoyed it had made it safely. Not everyone on this road had. But as I reached the crossing and checked my phone map, the exhaustion of the trip really hit me. I saw the road swimming in front of me, a bit like an escalator. The illusion was so convincing I couldn’t stop it. The last couple of kilometres were hard. The kilometre counter showed over 600 km. I know it wasn’t the total, but it was still a lot. I was tired. When I got back, I ate and had a rest, then decided not to spend my last day in the room, but go and see the sunset, no matter how tired I was.
When I arrived, the sun was behind the clouds and the sky was red. The water was completely still and full of seabirds in the distance. I walked along the rocks leading to the sea as the sun peeked out from the strip of clouds. A car pulled in and people poured out, so I withdrew and let them take their photos and selfies. I already knew how these would look. But I didn’t mind. They seemed to be related to the opera days, and I got to be in this scene for a bit. I wondered if they were performers as they posed for the Instagram stories and reels. I was quite happy in my own world with herons and seagulls. We were in the same spot, but had two very different experiences. But we all had a great time in our own respective worlds. 

Attention, look out for the grass snakes on the road!
By travelling slow I had a lot of wild-life counters – deer, foxes, a badger, eagles, grass snakes, slowworms and many others, which always warmed by heart. Many of these counters were on a road and unfortunately I also came across a few road casualties, especially grass snakes. I’ve since learned to appreciate and love these curious, beautiful and funny creatures, who often bask on a warm tarmac or cross the road unaware of danger and are killed by oblivious drivers. I wish I could do more for them, but even just bringing these ‘invisible snakes’ to attention in this blog would be a small step forward.

No AI was used to write this blog post: This is a direct transcript of my diary entries and only grammatically corrected for clarity.