On Friday we took a short cab ride from our Copenhagen hotel to our ship for embarkation procedures. The Rotterdam, Holland America's flagship was launched in 1997, has a gross tonnage of 59,000 and holds 1600 passengers. That means it's not one of the mega-cruise ships plying the seas. In November, 2009 the ship is due to go to Freeport in the Bahamas for a lot of refurbishing.

The passengers tend to be middle-aged and older, with a sprinkling of canes, walkers and wheelchairs. The crew does very well catering to the needs of this older bunch so it's a pleasant experience.

Don't expect the bars to be brimming with drinkers or much action in the late-night disco. Every night on our beds there were white towels shaped and folded into clever animals configurations by the cabin attendants, a nice endearing touch. The food aboard ship is quite good but not the greatest I've had on other ships.

The singers and dancers in the shows are quite good, but don't look for spectacular entertainment with stunning technical effects. This ship doesn't have all the glitzy stage features and contraptions that newer ships have.

No tendering was necessary at any stops on the entire trip. Our nine land tours cost each of us $1041.

Cruising is one of few activities in life in which people voluntarily accept and pay for regimentation, living by the clock, being told when to tour, when to eat, when to be entertained and see shows. It's back to school, summer camp or under military discipline. Cruise passengers seem programmed to have a good time, like the ritual of the parade of baked Alaska on the last night of a cruise. The passengers dutifully take pictures, wear crazy hats, stand and cheer, wave handkerchiefs. In other words, "You will have a good time!" "Yes, and we'll love it." Perhaps they are a special breed, these cruisers.

Aboard ship were passengers who were nasty flu commandoes. They gave you a dirty look if you coughed or sneezed. They looked as if they wanted to send you to an extermination camp.

After our first day at sea, we docked on a Sunday in Tallinn, Estonia. The first thing the bus guide said was, "We overdeliver here as you'll see on this tour of our city. We tend to surprise people because they come expecting very little, and they find a beautiful country waiting to be discovered."

True enough, but you can't really see very much in a four hour familiarization tour. I would say St. Petersburg and Stockholm were the cities that overdelivered in terms of sightseeing on our cruise.

On the tour of Estonia we heard a great deal about the grim years of Soviet occupation and domination as well as Russia's recent efforts to intimidate and cow the tiny country on its border. For 750 of its 800 year history, it was a conquered country.

When the vacuum of power developed in the Soviet Union in 1991, Estonia declared its independence so it's had only eighteen years of recent freedom. In 1918 Estonia gained its independence from Russia, but was occupied in 1940 by the Soviet Union. From 1941 to 1944 the Germans held the country until it was taken over again by the Soviets.

During those difficult times, '41 to '44, some Estonians fought on the German side to rid the country of the Russians. Others fought on the Russian side to get rid of the Nazis. Some families were fractured by differing loyalties. When the Soviets won in 1944, many Estonians were deported to Siberia. The Russians said they had liberated Estonia, so Estonians said, "Now you can leave," and instead the Soviets occupied the country, remaining for forty-seven years of oppression.

One of our first stops on a bus tour of Tallinn was the place where the song festivals were held during the old Soviet days. The music was an outbreak of freedom, a way for the Estonians to express their desire for liberty and their sense of national identity without the Soviets clamping down on them. The music festivals attracted up to 300,000 people. You can't shoot at people just because they are singing.

One time two million people held hands and formed a human chain running through Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia as a way of showing solidarity in their quest for independence from Soviet domination.

The guide said that some people think Estonia is 1.3 million people pretending to be a country. There is still a large Russian-speaking ethnic minority of 300,000. In the suburbs we were shown the old grim, gray Soviet housing blocks where many still live. In the Soviet era the state owned the factories, but since the country had no significant raw materials, all raw materials had to be shipped in, and the Russians were just using Estonian labor and providing sub-standard housing. Buildings with Soviet facades were okay on the outside but dumpy within we were told.

Everywhere on our Baltic cruise guides talked of the devastating effects of the worldwide bank collapse and recession. In Estonia there has been a fifteen per cent contraction in the economy. Estonia is a member of the EU, the European Union.

We saw some colorful little sheds (shops) along the waterfront, lots of trams, beautiful lush forests and open green spaces. The cemeteries are under the forest canopies.
Some houses were old 19th century wooden structures with ornate gingerbread features.

Workers are given real estate vouchers which they collect and use to purchase apartments or houses. With privatization 88% of the people own their own dwellings. Sometimes in order to get things done, the guide pointed out, you have to grease somebody's paw.

Our guide pointed out the ruins of an old cloister which in the past held both nuns and monks. Little uninvited monks and nuns would be born there occasionally.

The guide said that the tighter and more repressive a totalitarian regime is, the better the anecdotes are. Through humor you can criticize the regime without putting a noose around your neck. One favorite anecdote: Brezhnev, never the brightest of Russian leaders, was due to speak at the opening of the 1980 Olympics. His speechwriter handed him his speech, and Brezhnev began, "O-o-o-o-o." The writer interrupted him saying, "Sir, you don't have to read the Olympic logo."

Ferries run back and forth from Finland to Estonia. They are called "vodka missions." The Finns come over to pick up vodka, beer and ciggies which are much cheaper in Estonia. There are close connections between the two people, and the "vodka tourists" benefit both countries.

Outside a church we were told a probably apocryphal story. A dissolute Casanova who had died in his late twenties after taking advantage of hundreds of women repented and begged to be buried in the church at the entranceway. The minister finally relented and agreed. The unrepentant Casanova told his friend he wanted to be buried there so he could look up the women's dresses as they entered the church.

In every stop on the trip cruisers enjoyed walks through the older, medieval-looking sections of towns and cities with their narrow cobblestone streets, the buildings that seemed to tilt and the general feel of walking back in time. For the tourists, the older something is, the more attractive and charming. They were not disappointed in Tallinn. We were brought to the older section on the heights with its old cathedral and a view of the tidy town below with the orange-tiled roofs. Tallinn proved to be, as the guide predicted, a pleasant surprise.