We are exploring a big, hulking soviet relic of some kind, an immense concrete structure, built in several tiers, wide staircases leading up to and over the roof. A plaque tells us that this is Linna hall, a concert hall, built in the 80,s but the shape makes it look more like a modern fortress. It has been badly run down over the decades, broken tiles and concrete blocks everywhere and many of the sides are now covered in colourful graffiti in contrast to the all-pervading grey of the concrete. The place has been closed down completely, steel gratings barring the way, except for the stairs up on the roof and two newly built wooden viewing platforms. Walking around, it feels a bit like being the first person here in a long while, it matters not that other people come here every day, it matters not that it is a bright sunny day; there is still a sombre feeling of sad beauty about the broken, once grand structure.