There is something truly magical about this place – medievalesque, Estonian yet with a dominant Russian flavor, filled with castles, lion statues, Dark Gardens, train stations, art galleries and stone churches that sometimes glow pink at night. And always, the wind – in every season, nearly every day, gusting into this little town from the Baltic Sea, the wind adds a certain something to this place. Locals might merely say it adds chapped faces and tangled hair. I like to think poetically. I think it’s kind of like the spirit of Narva itself – a tiny, unheard-of border town that’s fallen on hard times, yet around every corner are hints of a bygone glory, whispers of a golden time, and perhaps even a faint hope that one day it will rise again.
I like Narva. I hope you will, too.