There’s something unforgettable about Estonian nature — its forests, lakes, bogs, beaches, and the kind of air that makes you stop and breathe deep. I might be biased (okay, I am) because I grew up there, but honestly, there’s nothing quite like it anywhere else.

Over half of Estonia (51%) is forest. It’s home to six national parks, more than 1,500 lakes, and a staggering 2,317 islands scattered across the Baltic Sea. Bears, lynx, wolves, moose and foxes roam here (cue my ongoing joke with an Australian friend that Estonians are wild and run with wolves — inspired by a T-shirt I once wore with a wolf on it).

When I was a kid, school holidays lasted three glorious months. For nine months of the year, my strict-but-loved parents demanded academic excellence. But for those other three months? They shoved a sandwich into my hand at breakfast, shooed me out the door, and I was free. Free to roam the beach, wander the forests, and get lost in that in-between world where time didn’t exist.

To me, nature and freedom have been inseparable ever since.

Even today, no summer trip to Estonia feels complete without plunging into a forest lake — bonus points if it’s early morning and the mist is still rising, symphonies of birdsong in the air. And in winter, nothing beats walking in a silent forest, snow crackling underfoot, fir branches heavy with white, and catching snowflakes on the palm of your glove. These are the kinds of moments you carry with you forever.

Estonia is dotted with sacred places that even some locals don’t know about.

There are springs that never freeze, even in the depths of winter, and ancient oaks standing guard over the centuries. Our ancestors knew how to read the signs nature gave them; it’s a skill worth relearning.

And while you’re tuning in to nature’s whispers, don’t miss the drama of the land itself. Along the north coast, sheer limestone cliffs rise up from the Baltic Sea — Pakri’s rugged face near Paldiski, Türisalu’s dramatic drop just outside Tallinn, and Ontika’s dizzying 50-metre wall, the highest in the country. In winter, the waterfalls that tumble from these heights — like Jägala, Estonia’s own Niagara — turn into frozen cathedrals of ice.

Whether you’re tracing fossil-rich beaches, paddling through Soomaa’s “fifth season” floods, or standing at Taevaskoda where locals say the sky touches the earth, these are places where Estonia’s magic feels amplified — nature as a sanctuary, stage and storyteller all in one.

After years of living high above the streets of Melbourne — first on the 36th floor, then the 11th — I realised something was missing. Sure, the view was nice and the hot air balloons floated past, but the air felt different, and the noise never stopped.

In Estonia, you can breathe deep — it’s some of the cleanest air in the world. You can hear your own thoughts. You can jump into a forest lake and feel like a kid again (even if you’re just using your young nieces as an excuse to splash around).

Yes, there are mosquitoes — persistent, hungry little things (you can’t outrun them, I’ve tried). But unlike in Australia, nothing in the forest is actively plotting your demise. And those “1.5 poisonous snakes” we joke about? They’re harmless. Unless you count the trauma of stepping on one barefoot (still, don’t!).

So, if you’re heading to Estonia — whether for the first time or the fiftieth — here’s my slightly irreverent checklist of must-try nature experiences. Bonus points if you manage them all in one trip.

Your (slightly irreverent) Estonian nature bucket list

Stand in the middle of nowhere and listen

That sound? Nothing. Just wind in the pines, a few distant bird calls and your own heartbeat. Estonia’s unofficial national pastime.

Test the limits of your mosquito tolerance

Visit in midsummer and discover that Estonian mosquitoes are more persistent than your old Facebook friends.

Go mushroom hunting with an Estonian grandma

She’ll lead you 12 km in silence, fill a basket with chanterelles, and teach you 17 ways to pickle them — all before lunch. (I miss how in Estonia you can just walk into a forest and start picking mushrooms and berries… fresh tastes best!)

Survive a bonfire without losing your eyebrows

Midsummer’s Eve: giant fires, endless beer, and at least one person who thinks flame-jumping is a good idea.

Sauna, then ice bath

The ultimate shock-to-the-system: a wood-fired sauna followed by a dash outside and a plunge into a lake or an ice hole. You’ll emerge feeling reborn — and possibly yelping. (This one’s a national sport, impossible to avoid.)

Take the kiiking dare

No, not kicking — kiiking, the swinging sport. Swinging all the way over the top sounds easy… until you’re upside-down and reconsidering your life choices. (Must admit, I’ve only done this once, and with good reason.)

Leave only footprints, take only vitamin N

Nature has a way of slowing us down and fixing the bits of us that city life wears thin. Researchers call it “exposure to nature” and have found much evidence for its health and wellbeing effects. I call it Vitamin N — and Estonia is rich in it, ranking high on global charts.

When you visit, soak it in. Breathe the air. Touch the moss. But remember you’re a guest here, and leave it as you found it for the next wanderer to enjoy.

Links

Visit Estonia and discover Estonian nature and wildlife

Seven natural wonders of Estonia

Wildlife photography by Erik Karits

The University of Tartu Press has just released a fresh edition of “Symbol of Dawn: The Life and Times of the 19th-Century Estonian Poet Lydia Koidula” by Madli Puhvel.

First published in 1995 (with a reprint in 1999), this landmark English-language biography is now available again in an updated, beautifully designed edition with a few edits compared to the earlier version. An Estonian translation appeared in 2016/17 — both print runs sold out — but for English readers, this re-release is a rare chance to discover Koidula’s remarkable life and work.

More than a literary biography, Symbol of Dawn is also a vivid introduction to Estonian history and culture, written in clear, engaging English for an international audience. Drawing extensively on Koidula’s personal letters, Puhvel examines not only her creative achievements but also her role as a woman navigating the social constraints of her time.

Who is the author Madli Puhvel?

Born in Estonia and educated in England, Canada, and the United States, Madli Puhvel holds a doctorate from the University of California (UCLA). Alongside a distinguished academic career as a research scientist and professor of medicine at UCLA, she has nurtured a lifelong passion for literature, history and biography. Living most of her life in California, Puhvel brings both scholarly insight and international perspective to her writing. Symbol of Dawn reflects her deep connection to Estonia’s cultural heritage and her gift for making it accessible to English-speaking audiences.

Who was Lydia Koidula?

Lydia Koidula (1843–1886), born Lydia Jannsen, is often called the “mother of Estonian poetry”. She was the first great poet to write in Estonian, at a time when it was still unusual — even frowned upon — for women to publish their work. Her patriotic verses inspired a nation just emerging from centuries of serfdom, encouraging pride in the Estonian language and identity.

Koidula’s influence reached beyond poetry. She was also a journalist, playwright, and central figure in Estonia’s national awakening, working alongside her father, Johann Voldemar Jannsen, and cultural leaders such as Carl Robert Jakobson. Her poem Mu isamaa on minu arm (“My Fatherland is My Love”), set to music by Estonian composer Gustav Ernesaks, became an unofficial anthem during the Soviet occupation.

Though her life was marked by personal hardship and illness, Koidula’s literary legacy is woven into Estonia’s cultural fabric — from streets and schools bearing her name to the annual celebrations at the Koidula Museum in Pärnu, Estonia.

Where can I buy the book?

📚 Buy the book (EUR 15.00) from the University of Tartu Press

Read more

Read more about this book on the University of Tartu website here

More about Lydia Koidula in the Estonian Writers’ Dictionary

Lydia Kodula museum (in Estonian)

Acknowledgement

Thank you to Ivo Volt from the University of Tartu Press and Ave Nukki from the Estonian Society of Sydney for forwarding this information!

That’s right. The Estonian Ministry of Foreign Affairs has sent out a polite but clear message to Estonians around the world: we’re listening — talk to us.

Whether you’re sipping flat whites in Melbourne, recovering from Õllesummer in Tallinn, or dodging kangaroos in Queensland, this is your chance to chime in.

What’s all this about?

It’s called the Global Estonian Activity Plan (Üleilmse eestluse tegevuskava) — a fancy name for a very real thing. It’s Estonia’s way of staying connected to its people abroad: you, me, the folk who still speak fluent eesti keel (Estonian) and can whip up lihapirukad (meat pies) from memory. (Those of us who rely on online recipes are welcome to chime in too — thank goodness.)

The plan is currently getting a 2026–2029 upgrade, and the Foreign Ministry wants to make sure it actually reflects the lives, needs and dreams of Estonians living outside Estonia. (Fun fact: did you know there are 200,000 people of Estonian heritage living abroad? 15% of all Estonians!)

How to drop your two (euro) cents?

Simple. You have until 20 August 2025 to speak your mind.

📧 Send your thoughts, ideas or gentle (polite!) rants via email: diasporaa[at]mfa.ee
💬 Or drop a comment here: Click here

Want to know what’s in the current plan?
📄 Peek behind the curtain: Üleilmse eestluse tegevuskava 2022–2025

Why should we care?

Because this plan affects everything from Estonian language lessons and cultural events, to support for returning expats, youth engagement, and whether you get emailed about the next Laulupidu or left in the dark. (Let’s be honest — no one would really be that cruel. You will get your email.)

It’s not just about waving a blue-black-white flag on public holidays — it’s about keeping Estonians abroad involved in shaping what Estonia is in the world.

🎥 Need inspiration?

No stress. You can catch the Global Estonian Networks Day talks online — including greetings from the Foreign Minister, vision statements, and some very thoughtful takes on the future of Estonianness.

▶️ Watch here: (Globalestonian.com)

✍️ Your turn!

What you say could shape what Estonia does next. This is your chance to suggest that thing you’ve been muttering to your friends about for years. Or to tell Estonia what’s working. Or what’s missing.

Let’s help make the next version of the plan genuinely useful, inspiring — and relevant to us.

Be bold, be constructive, be you — Estonia can handle it. In fact, they welcome it!

“Even the snails had their rahvariided on!” That’s what Kaili Salu from the Melbourne-based Kodu Kaja choir said after returning from the Song Festival in Tallinn — and frankly, who could argue?

This year’s Laulu- ja Tantsupidu was drenched in tradition, emotion and actual rainfall. Folk costumes weren’t just worn — they practically sprouted from the soil. Toddlers, pensioners, pets and yes, symbolically stylish snails — if it moved, it was probably dressed to the (folk) nines.

Rahvariided — a legacy on hangers

Estonian national dress isn’t something you throw on like a novelty Christmas jumper. These are lovingly handwoven masterpieces, steeped in symbolism, local patterns and family lore. They are commissioned years in advance. They are heirlooms with hemlines.

My sister — dressmaker and unofficial rahvariided whisperer — tells me every set is one of a kind, made with thought and intention. Wearing one is not just a style choice; it’s a whole vibe. You carry your lineage in your linen, your region in your ribbons. And somehow, you stand straighter in the rain when you’re buttoned into your roots.

A festival or a catwalk? Why not both

Let’s be honest — this year’s festival felt like a runway show curated by the ancestors. Haapsalu lace, Muhu stripes, Setomaa belts woven tighter than my travel budget — it was all there, worn with pride and punctuated by the occasional squeaky shoe.

And in true Estonian fashion (pun fully intended), there’s now an official Rahvariided Day. Oh, and a Woven Belt Day. Because if we’re going to celebrate anything with national zeal, it might as well be accessories.

The intergenerational show of belonging

Before my first folk dance performance in Melbourne, I needed a costume. I didn’t know where to start — until an older Estonian lady opened her home, scanned me up and down, then disappeared into a cupboard. She returned with a perfectly fitted outfit and a classic no-nonsense nod: “Now you’ll feel like you belong.”

And she was right.

She dressed me like a mother would — layering, adjusting, belt-tightening — with a quiet reverence that made me realise just how special this all was. The costume even turned out to match my own mum’s ancestral region. A total fluke — or fate in wool?

As she showed me the matching stockings for cold days and the teeny handbag for essentials (what essentials… a sneaky safety pin? singing throat lozenges?), we shared stories, laughter, and something deeper. I missed my mum. And I silently promised to stop whining about being used as her mannequin growing up.

That wonderful lady is now a dear friend. And that moment — a belt, a hug, a knowing smile — was my ticket into a tradition stitched in kindness.

Skirts and shirts travelling the world

This year, those in rahvariided became part of something even bigger: world-renowned British photographer Jimmy Nelson set up portrait studios at Kalevi Stadium and the Song Festival Grounds to photograph people in traditional Estonian folk costumes — not just dancers and choir members, but anyone lucky enough to be wrapped in stripes and symbolism.

His previous works hang in major galleries from London to New York. The Estonian images will appear in a new book and international exhibition celebrating Eastern European cultures — meaning that yes, your fringe, your brooch, your slightly damp wool skirt could end up travelling the world.

No wonder the snails too wanted in on the action

I’m told that in years gone by, Melbourne Estonians wore national costume to almost every gathering. Perhaps it’s time we bring that magic back. Not just for special occasions — but to honour the beautifully stitched, slightly itchy, joy-filled symbols of who we are.

So next time someone says, “Here, try this on,” and hands you a folk costume from a cupboard — say yes. You never know where it might take you.

And honestly, if the snails can rock a belt and stripes, so can we.

Interested?

The website of Estonian national costumes

Article by Vincent Teetson in Eesti Elu about what it takes to acquire your own rahvariided

Every folk costume counts – participants of the Song and Dance Celebration are invited to step in front of a world-renowned photographer’s lens

Thank you!

Big thank you to Kaili Salu for her brilliant idea and photo! Thank you to Hilja Toom for very helpful information!

Estonia is once again leading the way in digital innovation — this time by bringing artificial intelligence (AI) directly into high school classrooms. A new government initiative called AI Leap 2025 is set to launch this September, providing 20,000 Estonian students with access to educational chatbots built specifically for learning.

Unlike commercial AI tools, the new system will be developed to support Estonia’s curriculum and language, acting as a personalised tutor that helps students engage, think critically, and build real skills, rather than simply spitting out answers. The project aims to bridge both the digital divide and socioeconomic gaps, offering all students equal access to smart learning support.

According to Siim Sikkut, one of the great minds behind the initiative, the real value lies not just in exposure to AI, but in learning how to use it ethically, effectively and critically. The program will also help students learn to navigate issues like misinformation and AI “hallucinations” — skills they’ll need not just in school, but in future workplaces.

🔗 Read the full article in IEEE Spectrum: 5 Questions: Siim Sikkut – Estonia is Bringing Educational Chatbots to Classrooms

Who is Siim Sikkut?

Siim Sikkut served as Estonia’s Chief Information Officer from 2017 to 2022, where he played a key role in shaping the country’s digital government, cybersecurity policy and tech infrastructure. He is now Managing Partner at Digital Nation, a consulting firm helping governments around the world to modernise and digitise public services.

Read more

🔗 Read more about the AI 2025 Leap program on e-Estonia in this article by Justin Petrone: AI Leap 2025: Estonia sets the global standard for AI in education

Acknowledgement

Our thanks to Dr Peter Muttik for bringing this article to our attention and helping us share it with the Estonian community in Australia.