Strange Cabinfellows (or 16 Hours) by Busra Erkara “Thiz iz,” said the taxi driver, pointing widely at the bleak port that lay to our left. The sun was about to set. I knew that solely based on the time, and not the mercury color that was contrasting with the red, cone roofs of Toompea Castle in the northeast. Just like everywhere else, Tallinn looked better on the cover of a Lonely Planet. Don’t bother going there.