It’s last Tuesday. I’m enjoying an excellent 3 course dinner at Vespa in the most charming company, reminiscing the good old days. The duck melts in my mouth, the wine is good and it’s nice to have a normal chat that doesn’t have anything to do with work.

Actually, let’s stop right there. Might be better if I started a couple of hours earlier, just to get some context in. Sorry about that.

It’s last Tuesday, my payday, and I’m getting ready to go home, sending out a last minute work email. Thinking of going to the store, getting some food to celebrate said paydayness, when the phone rings. A familiar female voice greets me.

“Hiya, you still at work? I’m heading to the student café next door to get some dinner or something. Wanna come with?”

“Sure. Ok. Just give me a sec. Need to finish up here first.”

Well, that came out of the blue.

I walk out, around the corner and to the café. The place isn’t serving food anymore for the day, they stopped like 3 minutes earlier. Student restaurants. Typical.

“Sorry about dragging you here like that. What do you wanna do next?”

“Dunno, what do you want to eat? I’m buying.”

We head towards the city center, thinking of getting something Indian or maybe Tex Mex. For some reason we end up just walking around, dismissing one place after the other with “let’s not go there”s and “don’t really feel like that”s.

And then along comes Vespa, with a jazzy track playing from the speakers that makes us both stop and look at each other.

“Here?”

“Here.”

Neither of us have ever been here, but this seems like the perfect choice.

So, it’s last Tuesday. I’m enjoying an excellent 3 course dinner at Vespa in the most charming company, reminiscing the good old days. The duck melts in my mouth, the wine is good and it’s nice to have a normal chat that doesn’t have anything to do with work. Or relationships. Or trying to get to know the other person. Or the million projects I’m doing outside of work (like this blog). Or anything stressful. We talk about our dreams and our fond memories. Get lost in the moment while sailing in the everything that was and will be.

When we walk out from the restaurant I realize how I have lost the track of time during the dinner – the sun has just gone down. The regal shade of blue of that moment between the evening and the night fills the cloudless sky and the lights of the city are just being switched on, patterning the buildings with light and shadow. Gradients of yellows, greens and purples paint all flat surfaces.

The view is absolutely stunning.

I admit, that I’ve somehow missed the fact it’s spring already. Sure – the snow is gone for good and there have been birds doing their cacophony of music for quite some time. But I haven’t had time or the open mind to enjoy or realize that.

We walk through Esplanadin puisto and have to stop a couple of times to take photos of what we’re seeing and feeling. We climb up the stairs of Tuomiokirkko, smile at the cute couple sitting on top. It is said that Helsinki is one of the most romantic cities in the world. Even if I would normally just laugh and scoff at the idea, when I’m looking at those two sharing that moment in the flash frozen storm of color and shadows, I can see there being some truth to that.

This tranquil view is a side I remember Helsinki having, but one that I don’t get to see very often. I try my best to verbalize it, but all the words I can sigh just fall short. Incoherent.

Random happenstance, perfect timing, beautiful weather. No stress whatsoever. No rush. Life is good.

And then it’s last Friday.

It’s so last Friday.

I’m about this full of people and their problems with me, and people and my problems with them, and their problems with each other.

I’m driving in my blue Mitsubishi towards Tampere to get to a party, and I’m going through a bloody snowstorm to get there. Déjà vu much. It’s like Tampere is more tightly wrapped in the clutches of Winter than the rest of Finland. Reminding me that we, as a country, belong to the snow and the cold no matter what happens or how much hold Spring might get somewhere.

The party I head to is a good one, as the parties I head to usually are. A traditional house party. The kind where everyone has their own bottles. First person passes out before midnight. The conversations continue until the dawn breaks and a bit after that.

I really like Mi&Mi’s place, it  feels like a home. Small furry critters keep you company when the rest of the people at the party decide to go for a smoke outside. Warm colors dominate the palette, with orange holding court over reds and browns. There are people I know and love here, and some new ones I have never met before. Technically the premise is my birthday and the fact that one of the Mi’s got a dream job for the summer, but really it’s more a generic house party than anything. I must admit I’m not in the mood, but I smile and nod.

I am seriously doubting my decision to stay in Finland. I was originally going to a conference in Stockholm this weekend, but decided against it as I wanted to keep my birthday weekend for myself and the important people this time (was at another conference in Tartu last year this same time). I know conference trips are a great fun, so I’m really thinking that “what if I had gone this year as well” thought.

Friday turns to Saturday, and night becomes morning. I’m sitting in the living room with Mi, pouring my heart out. The two hours of sleep, combined with the cascade of things that I feel are wrong, is devastating. I whine about everything. How people aren’t getting along and I can’t invite them all to my parties because of that. How I feel helpless sometimes because I can’t help all those who I care about in my life. How it’s horribly annoying to wait for an email you know might never come. How there was That One Who Got Away 15 years ago who I never got a chance to talk with properly. How I miss my old cat that died last year. How it’s stupid that it’s snowing in April.  I’m just letting it all out. No matter if it’s recent or relevant to the moment.

I spend a good hour and a half just whining about everything that’s been bugging me the past few days.

It’s good to have someone who listens.

And while the whining helps with the annoyance, the melancholy stays. Mi listens, and is interested in everything I’m saying (she’s nice like that), but the tiredness gets to her eventually and she heads back to bed with the other Mi. I do some writing on their computer and head out, bidding my hosts farewell with a note thanking them of their troubles.

This birthday weekend is turning into a sort of a downer. No matter how much fun the party was, there’s too many things bothering me. Annoying.

A deep breath once I’m out. There’s still things to do at Tampere. Just bite your lip and carry on.

I have no idea yet how awesome things will turn out over the next 24 hours.

Trying to get back on the track now.

Sorry about that.

Rewind to last summer. I’m standing in the middle of a small town square, eating the most delicious hamburger I’ve probably ever tasted. It’s the bachelor party of one of my old friends. While the actual party that’s taking place in a cabin in the woods somewhere in the middle of nowhere, we came to the nearest town here to go to the local bar. Get a feel of the culture outside Helsinki. After a bar we found a nightclub here where we really dominated the dance floor. And now we’re eating grill food from the local food stand.

It doesn’t have to be fancy. It doesn’t have to be posh. Small towns can be incredible fun. You just need the right people and the right attitude.

I’m meditating on this thought and it’s last Saturday, around eight in the evening. It usually is, come to think of it. And guided by this meditation, I pick up the phone.

“Lou.” The person on the other end answers, apparently confused by the fact I’m calling him. I admit, it’s been a while.

“Hi. What are you doing in an hour?”

“Uhmn. What?”

“You. At nine?”

“Uh. Nothing.”

“Ok, I’m going to need you for a few moments. Maybe a couple of hours.”

“Whuh?”

“Great, get ready.”

“Ok…”

I hang up and a couple of minutes later I have to call him again.

“A change of plans. I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Get dressed! I looked at the time wrong.”

“Wait, what?”

“Go go go!”

It’s about 9pm. We’re sitting in a car on Lahdentie. Me, Lou and Mei. I’m driving. Mei and Lou are trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

“So, originally you and Ptr were planning on going to some party at Otaniemi around eleven, and then he calls you just before nine he’ll be picking you up right now?”

“Yup. Do you have any idea where we’re going? He hasn’t told me anything.” Mei is apparently a bit worried we might not make it to Otaniemi by eleven. She’s so right.

“Well, on this road, the possible places are Korso, Kerava and Tuusula. I don’t see anything good happening to us when we get there in the next 20 minutes. Let’s just wait patiently and see what the crazy guy has planned for us.”

20 minutes later.

“Ptr?”

“Yeah?”

“We just went past Tuusula, didn’t we?”

“Yup.”

“Don’t tell me we’re going to Lahti?”

“Ok, I won’t tell you that.”

“Dude. What?!”

Lou is an old friend of mine. From ages ago. We sort of lost Lou for a while when he got married and got a kid, but he’s made a comeback lately (Still married, don’t worry). He’s the guy I was going to see Nouvelle Vague with back in 2007, so he’s not really surprised that I might pull off something like grab people from their homes and drive them to Lahti.

And it means a world to Mei to have him here. While I still keep in touch with Lou because of hobbies, Mei sees him maybe once a year, if that. And these two are like a sister and a brother. Lou’s an artist, Mei’s a scholar. But still they are best friends. Well, when they happen to see each other. Their approach to the situation is completely different. Lou is curious, Mei might actually be a bit worried what’s going on.

“Ptr?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we going to do something I’m going to hate?”

“Probably, why?”

“No, seriously. I should be preparing for a seminar.”

“Well, you were going to Otaniemi today, it’s not like you would have gotten a chance to anyways.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“Oh, come on, it’s gonna be fun,” Lou saves me from having to convince Mei, “I know Lahti pretty well, used to hang a lot there when I was younger. They for example have these awesome mugs-of-kebab there that you can eat… Wait, we have to turn here if we want to get to Lahti.”

I wave at the intersections as they go by.

A brief moment of silence as it sinks in.

“We’re not going to Lahti, are we?”

“Nope, you might want to get a beer from the back. This will take a moment more.”

“Dude, what the hell do you have planned for us?”

To those who don’t know what sort of distances we’re talking about, we’re about 100 kilometers (bit over 60 miles) north from Helsinki right now and the road keeps going on.

After a lot of wondering and singing along to Mokoma, I pull over the car at a information stop / road map of Heinola. We walk to the map.

“Ok, try to find Ravintola Tukkijätkä from there somewhere.”

There is a moment of silence. Footsteps walking towards the car. The sound of the car door. Some rummaging. And then the sound of a beer can opening. Followed by footsteps back to behind me and a fatherly sigh, the one that Lou pulls off so very well.

“You’re saying that you drove us to Heinola to go to a place called Tukkijätkä.”

“Yup.”

Tukkijätkä is a guy who rafts timber. Closest analogy in English would be Lumberjack. So I’m taking them to a place called “Restaurant Lumberjack”

Hence the beer.

“Why?”

“There is a gig there tonight. Irina is playing. But probably we’re late from the gig already, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“You drove us to Hollola, to a place called Ravintola Tukkijätkä, to listen to Irina. You do realize that I’m going to gut you alive for this.” Mei is looking like she’s about to do exactly that.

“Not Hollola, Heinola!”

“Whatever dude, it’s outside Ring III.”

But wait. It gets better.

10 minutes later we arrive at Tukkijätkä, and there is a sign outside saying “Sold out.”

So, we’re at Heinola, without anything to do. There is a big blonde guy and a small furious brunette chick staring at me.

“Dudes. Wait! Don’t kill me yet, the night is still salvageable. Let’s walk this way, we’re sure to find something to do. The evening is not lost, come on guys!” I take a few steps towards what probably is the center of Heinola.

Something’s off. A memory creeps up my spine…

Shit. I’ve been here before. The bachelor party was here. This is the same bloody small town.

“Oh my god. I know this place.”

“What?”

“Follow me!” I start running.

It’s four hours later, we’re standing in the middle of the town square of Heinola, I’m eating the most delicious hamburger.

“Ok, that was just horrible,” Mei says while devouring french fries from a dish bigger than her head, “I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in ages!”

Lou says something in agreement while enjoying a mug-of-kebab-meat. I have no idea what he’s saying, but he’s smiling and munching down food.

I smile and nod. It doesn’t have to be fancy. It doesn’t have to be posh. Small towns can be incredible fun. You just need the right people.

Remember Tampere? The place where the streets are empty, there are no sights to see, the weather is cold, and the friendliest face I can find is the hotel receptionist. Well, I’m back, standing in the middle of what I assume to be the central square of this city and thinking “Oh, srsly?”

It’s about 3 months after the Great Christmas Trip of 2009, and the reason I’m quoting Grey’s Anatomy is… *drumroll*… the weather. I’ve just spent 2.5 hours driving from Helsinki to Tampere in a weather that is best described in words that are not suitable for live studio audiences. It started off as gray and uninspiring and by the time we were looking for a parking space, there was a full-blown blizzard trying to throw our car into the nearby buildings.

To get the full irony of the moment, a flashback to early this morning is in order. In this said flashback, imagine me being all cheerful and saying “Oh, the spring is finally here!” to my unimpressed co-workers. Clearly, in Finland, there just is no escaping the winter, is there?

I slowly rotate 360 degrees to get a good feel of my surroundings. Looking south is painfully impossible because the snowflakes want to dig deep into my eyeballs at supersonic speed. But in the other directions, the city looks exactly the way it did on December. Well, the snow is a bit more moist.

But still.

Srsly.

What the fuck is wrong with the weather in this place?

I’m here with a few Finns and a German. We’ve come to see a gig at a small café that holds about 20 people, and there’s 5 of us.

Interesting statistics of us five: Each one of us knows only two other persons in the car. Except the German, who knows just one. Each and every one of us has done capoiera at some point of their lives. Except the girl who sat on the front seat. And every single one of us had a relaxing drive here. Except me, who had to focus on not getting us all killed a lot. My hands are still a bit white from holding on to the steering wheel. Or might be the freezing cold. Hard to say. Either way, not exactly healthy.

We walk a couple of blocks in the snowstorm to Kahvila Valo, where the gig is just starting when we enter. Upon entry to the café, the artist introduces us to the rest of the people who are there, and we go occupy the last big table available (she knows two of the group beforehand, so that’s why we get introductions) I fetch a cup of Maté from the counter and settle down on our table. I don’t really have any idea what we’re going to hear, but all my doubts go away when the girl behind the piano starts singing a wonderful cover version of one of my all time favorite songs.

Robert Plant & Alison Krauss – Sister Rosetta Goes Before Us

The gig ends way too soon, but at least I finally have some time to get to know the new people who have been in my car, we have loads of time before we have to hit the road.

And frankly, I don’t want to hit the road. It was painful to drive here. I don’t want to go there again just yet.

The German is a blast, as ze Germans usually are . We already talked a lot on the way here, but you can never really get to the finer nuances of who someone is when you’re trying to keep a drifting car on a road at 100km/h. This guy studies journalism in Germany and it’s his first time in Finland. He’s pretty much the same way I am when it comes to foreign cities – It doesn’t matter if there aren’t that many grand spectacles to see in Helsinki. He’s just been soaking in the atmosphere and enjoying the feeling of the city.

He, for some reason, finds Helsinki a wonderful place. When I ask “what’s so great?” He replies without hesitation “Well, the sauna for example.”

Well, even I can’t argue with that. He’s talking about our public saunas. They are a damn great thing. Especially in the winter. Man, I wonder how long it has been since I’ve last been to a proper sauna.

I talk a while with the Finns as well. One of them is pulling a “Dropping everything and getting the hell out of this country” stunt, which I think is kind of awesome, and something I’ve heard many of my friends dreaming of. Heading to somewhere warm and tropic. No idea what to do there, but figuring out that it would be better than here. Sunlight. Warmth.

And as a total opposite, I end up having a conversation about the meditative nature of that perfect moment of silence in the Finnish winter. Just walking to some field with nothing but snow in sight. And no sounds of life anywhere to be heard. It’s nice to meet someone who has shared that wonderful moment. The peace and quiet. The tranquil colors.

I exchange a couple of words with the girl who was singing, thank for the performance, pretty much. And then it’s time to head back home. We walk out of the café. The snowfall has ended. The sky has taken a purplish hue from the city lights getting reflected from the clouds. The sounds of the city are dampened. Everything just feels tranquil and perfect.

We enjoy the moment. Talking about how it’s wonderful that the ride back will be nice and relaxed, compared to the storm on the way here. The songs from the gig still echoing in our mind. For a moment, it feels like every bad thing in the world disappears.

It’s 15 minutes later.

We’re back on the big road between Tampere and Helsinki, and the Blizzard is back. I’m holding on to the steering wheel with both hands, fearing for our lives.

There is no escaping the damn winter here, is there?

]]> http://finnish-beauty.com/2010/03/20/srsly/feed/ 3 http://finnish-beauty.com/2010/03/09/athens/ http://finnish-beauty.com/2010/03/09/athens/#comments Tue, 09 Mar 2010 07:32:20 +0000 Ptr http://finnish-beauty.com/?p=353 This is a story that I tend to tell people when they ask me why the hell do I seem to happy these days. It is one of the stories that are pretty much the reason I end up registering this domain and headed out to Tampere on Christmas Day. Yesterday, I ended up telling the whole thing to a friend over on Facebook, so I decided why not share it with you lot as well. (And speaking of Facebook reminds me to advertise the blog’s page there – best way to get to know when the blog updates, well, right after the RSS feed)

It’s late 2009. I’ve been single now for a couple of months, and I don’t really like it. I’d managed to get used to being in a relationship and it’s been quite hard for me to come back from that. I am quite lost, to be honest. I’m spending too much time thinking about the good things that were, the places we’d gone to, the way things were, and not focusing on what’s going on in my life right now. I’m trapped in the past.

Now, in your mind’s eye, add to this picture, of a man torn by a break-up, the ever darkening Finnish nights and some other really depressing things .. Just something, whatever helps you get into the proper mood – your mother going into surgery, your cat dying, chronic illness. I admit that the things that were bringing me down weren’t really that bad, but when you’re down, everything feels so much worse. So humor me and let your imagination run wild.

Anyhow. It’s a Tuesday, I’m working on some dead-end project that will never, ever get finished. A friend lets me know some more bad news on an IM and after spending a day of fixing other peoples’ problems, I decide I need a break from it all.

I check my bank account. Not much, but enough to get the hell away from Finland for a weekend. I can worry about other things, like living, later.

I surf to a weather service website and start looking at places in the Southern Europe.

Lisbon. Nice, but rains on Saturday.

Rome. Not really nice, in fact it’s a damn storm there all weekend.

Athens. +20°C. Sunny. 4 hours more sunlight per day than Finland. I can live with that.

Next thing I know, it’s Friday and I’m sitting on a plane. Thinking of where I used to fly half a year earlier and how nice that was. Yeah, trapped in the past.

I check in the hostel, drop my bags there and head out into the night. This is the thing I do when in a new city. Walk. Let the city soak in. I come back to the hostel some 5 hours later, but feeling oddly distant to it all. Feels like something’s blocking my senses. I shrug and go to sleep.

Saturday comes and it’s time to go be a tourist, go sightseeing.

The city is a tourist trap. People are selling “THIS IS SPARTA!” t-shirts everywhere. That pretty much sums Athens up.

I am bothered by that sense of “I’m numb” that was there already on the previous night and that still lingers. To fight it I decide to head to the harbor. There’s something about watching big ships always eases my mind, so should be perfect.

I can’t get all the way to the harbor using the Metro since there is some track repair being done, so I continue my trip by walking alongside the tracks. It’s a beautiful day, but the lights and sounds are still strangely muted.

An hour or so later, I decide I should probably take a break. The harbor is further away than I would have thought.

A rustic park bench near an old café is a perfect spot to refreshen myself with some mineral water from a plastic bottle. My eyes wander on the view. The building across the street looks really pretty and I think ”You look so much like that one café corner in Norway, where we…”

And it hits me like a jolt of electricity.

A momentary clarity, a crack in the caul that’s surrounding my senses. Light pouring through into the gray.

It’s not a building in Norway. It doesn’t look anything like that corner in Norway.

I gulp down the water in my mouth, audibly gasp, start panting.

The world is spinning. I notice the tears flowing on my cheeks as I struggle to grasp a hold of the moment.

One memory peels away from clouding my senses after the other.

The palm tree doesn’t remind me of the flowers on that one window sill. The picture of that cat is not like the cat we saw when walking down that street.

I don’t know how long I sit there. I know I’ve been crying. And when I manage to focus again, the world looks different.

I look at the corner across the street. It’s no longer the street corner in Norway and the air doesn’t smell like Latvian summer, and my mind isn’t lost in what has been. The corner is a corner in Athens. I breathing Athens air. I am in Athens.

I jog back to the city. To the first mall I can find. Buy myself a notebook and a pen, and park myself at a café. Here I order giant cups of caramel flavored cafe latte and start writing while I feel like I can still grasp a hold of the moment.

When the place closes, I’ve written 22 pages. Of what has been, what is, who I am, what I want. A complete account of the relationship and my personal thoughts on what it was, thoughts that I’ll never share with anyone. I wobble back to the hostel, send a text message to the ex explaining some things and fall asleep.

The clarity of mind remains even the next morning.

I’m awake, I’m in Athens.

It’s Sunday. It’s winter. It’s 2009.

Besides ripping the caul from around my psyche that had stopped me from enjoying the moment, I have made a strange realization when writing down things. I have recognized the situations where I have been happy in my life.

I spend my last day in Athens walking the same sights I’ve seen the previous days, but this time it feels like I’m seeing them for the first time. I am no longer suffocating.

Monday comes, I hop on a plane, head home. There is a 4 hour stop at Zürich. I am coming home. What do I want to do next?

When I said I realized when I have been happy in my life, I am talking about two situations. When I’ve been at a good relationship, or when I’ve been working in a day job I’ve been good at. I know I need to quit being a Freelancer if I want to sort out my life. I need steady income, and I like the simplicity that comes with working for someone.

I run out of Euro coins surfing on the internet terminal. Buy a sandwich with the last credit on my credit card. Sit back down to read the book. My phone rings.

“Hi, this is <the big boss> from <the company>. You used to work for us a few years ago and you’ve at some point left us a job application. Would you still be interested in coming back to work for us? Want to come over to the office and talk about it today?”

“Well, actually, I’m in Zürich just now, but how about tomorrow?”

On Wednesday, I’m at work.

Mm. Events.

I just received my ticket for LABYRINTH // LASERPOINT // WHITEOUT, which is the first techno/dance event (I don’t really know what else to call it? It’s too big a thing to be called a rave, right?) I’ve been to in years. In fact, I haven’t been a person who would go to such events in quite a few lifetimes. Yet, I’m apparently going again.

Dubai rekindled my love for the music, and talking with some British friends who were psyched to see Proteus perform live (whom I remember seeing from what, 10 years back) made me realize how much I’ve missed the scene in Finland. So, come April, it’s time to suit up in all white, go pouncing on the dance floor. Still need to buy a few additions to make my outfit the way way I want, but awesome parties require some awesome purchases.

With everything I’m doing and everywhere I’m going, I’m slowly feeling like I’m reincarnating the me from a summer a couple of years ago – I was really doing things, going to places. Working my ass off to get enough money to do what I wanted to do. Participating in things that felt fun. I must admit that it’s probably writing this blog has gotten me closer to that again. I’m spending time thinking of places to go to and people to see. At first it was so I would have something to write about. Now, I’m again remembering how much fun it was. Doing things.

And doing things results in things I can look back on.

It’s summer of 2007. I think.

We’re heading to Provinssirock with a group of friends. The plan is to see Tori Amos live, and her gig is starting something like 21:00, sharp. I’m driving through Helsinki, straight from work where I’ve had to spend overtime on some project and now the schedule to get to Seinäjoki is falling apart around me.

We have a last minute addition to our group that I still need to pick up. Also because my godson is coming along with his parents, I’ll need to drop him and his mum to the family summer cottage before we can continue to the gig, with the father tagging along for the show. And we will need to take a detour through Tampere to pick up Mi&Mi who are coming too. The traffic is a killer and the raging storm above is making any increase of speed a bad idea even if it wasn’t.

We manage to pick up the last member of our crew, and the weather seems to be getting worse by the minute. As the car slowly creeps past the First Ring Road I’m actually commenting out loud how we should have brought bicycles, not a car. I can feel the time slipping away. In case you didn’t realize yet, I’m in a bad mood. Frankly just moments away from stepping out of the car and walking home.

I already know we’re going to miss the show, but decide not to tell the others, just put on my game face and tell everyone we’ll do just fine.

Someone puts Vesa-Matti Loiri on the CD-player. I don’t like the guy. No, I don’t have a valid reason for my dislike, I just don’t. Hearing his voice puts me this close to calling it a day. As we approach the Third Ring Road and I feel something switch in the flow of the cars. Movement. Freedom. The old blue is going forward. I slide beneath the Ring Road and when we reach the other side, it’s like a whole different world.

The storm front is torn open in front of us, pillars of sunlight streaking across the open road like searchlights in the night. A familiar cover of a Finnish hit starts to play starts to play and somehow a glimmer of hope wriggles back into my heart. Could be that we make it, after all. Or if we don’t, might be a pleasant ride after all.

We pick up Mi&Mi from Tampere, the sun shines, time flows.

The drive to Provinssi is long, and the road narrow. We drop off my godson and his mother at the summer cottage. It’s drawing awfully close to the start of the gig. And at the cottage, I can start calculating the remaining time with certainty.

The facts are these: I might be able to drop the car-full of people near the entrance, but then I’ll have to find a parking space. And that won’t happen easy since it’s so late. I find my mind going through possible scenarios. None of them end in everyone in the car seeing the full Tori Amos show, at least without me getting my car towed.

I decide that I can live missing a part of the gig, and I know that some people in the car can’t. We arrive at Seinäjoki. I turn towards the festival area, stop the car near the entrance. It’s quarter to nine.

“Get out, I’ll follow you as soon as I get the car parked. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. See you soon.”

They disappear from my view. I look at the line of cars moving towards the designated parking area. My friends are happy. I can live with this. Not happy, but I’ll survive.

Two blocks later, I realize I’ve made the wrong turn and ended up on a dead-end back street. A dead-end back street with one free parking spot.

I jog to the gate. No idea how many minutes I have left, I don’t have time to check. The stage she’s performing at seems to be at the other side of the festival area.

I consider picking up the pace, but can’t be bothered – I’m already running late, might as well walk.

I see the tent. I don’t hear music.

The glimmer of hope I felt goes away. I had looked at the festival map wrong once again. Not the first time that happened.

Some people are coming out, I smile at them and sigh.

I step through the tent door.

First step in. A drumbeat.

Second step in. Second drumbeat.

I walk into the crowd.

And the crowd goes wild.

I didn’t manage to catch up with my schedule yet, still lagging one day behind. But really, I’m trying to write this as fast as humanely possible. It just takes a while. Lot to digest. After all, it’s the last post before the blog has to take a dip into a whole new world. The travel report is over, only a day after Dī (my travel-companion-in-spirit, the one who was traveling from Geneva to Innsbruck while I went from Helsinki to Tampere and Jyväskylä) finished writing hers. The question I’m facing is – what will there be to write about tomorrow?

“Great. We’ll see you in 20 minutes. Want to go wait for us at Sokos?”

“Us” means Ry and her husband Neg. This used to be strange and rare back when I was younger. Meeting people for the first time in “real life” after knowing them only online. These days there’s nothing really weird about it anymore.  The reason I’m mentioning this is that I have never actually met Neg before. Not in flesh and blood at least, even if I’ve chatted with him online for years.

Ry I know better than Neg – met her a few times before, but originally got to know her online as well. Our meeting had something to do with the Eurovision song contest, an IRC channel dedicated to it and our distastes for some songs that were playing or something. Been friends ever since. Can’t remember what exactly happened, but this was back when Finland didn’t have any hope of ever winning it.

(No, that’s not an actual Eurovision song we’ve sent to the competition, but it’s not far from the horrid stuff we’ve tried to win with. Just had to give a sample and that’s quite an epitome.)

After the initial “Hi!” “Hi!” “You’ve been here what, ten minutes and you’re hitting on the Sokos staff already?” “Nah, she helped me pick out a new fragrance earlier, was just making a friendly conversation..” we go ahead with our plan to get some food at Harald.

I’ve heard great things about the restaurant over the years. If you go there, you apparently just have to try the tar ice cream they have on the dessert menu. I have my hopes up as we walk up the street, only to discover that the restaurant is closed for the Christmas holidays.

This fact holds true for the next few places on the “Oh well, if not Harald, then we at least can go to…” list as well.

Eventually we end up at a nice, small, out of the way Chinese/Japanese restaurant that serves quite nice chicken curry. Just what I need after freezing my fingers while we searched for a place that’s open. Our dinner conversations circle around two subjects – Virtuality and traveling. Neither are really that surprising, considering how we know each other and who we are.

It’s quite awesome that I get to include Ry to the story even if it’s by passing. She fits the underlying currents so perfectly. This is a woman that one day decided that she needed a change from her continental European life, packed up what she could fit in her car and drove to Finland. And been living here ever since. I can only give a respectful nod. My couple of days at Tampere and Jyväskylä get some perspective, no matter if I want it or not. I really should stop whining about the cold and enjoy the change a bit more.

We finish our meals and the couple follows me when I head back to the railway station. There is a big map of Jyväskylä there, and I show Ry and Neg all the places Ni had driven me the previous day and what I had learned about the town. I remember surprisingly much, but I must admit I am feeling a bit ashamed that I don’t think I thanked Ni enough for all the trouble she went through. Well, will have to remember to fix that later.

I bid the two farewell and step into the Intercity train to Helsinki. It’s running some 10 minutes late, and as the journey progress, I hear the 10 minutes turn into 20, then 30… Another typical day on the Finnish rails. This happens every winter.

I open my laptop and start writing down the stories and structuring my notes from the previous days. Thinking about everything that has happened. I have actually done something this Christmas, and I have a feeling that I may have discovered a part of me that likes doing this. I’ve been ignoring Finland way too much in the past years. Taking it for granted, maybe. I write down more thoughts and eventually catch up with the question.

What to do next? Once I’ve written the report about the trip, what will I have to write about? I’ve been on my adventure and I’ll have to go back. I’ll have to go home. Tomorrow is the 28th. Another day at the office.

I stop worrying about the looming problem and focus on what’s at hand. I still have the Christmas trip story to write. And I need a good way to end it.

Am I satisfied?

I admit to myself that I am. It has been a great few days. Maybe I should just end the story with bidding farewell to Ry and Neg. Symbolic way to say farewell to all the odd encounters and strange happenstances that made the trip what it was. And it was the last thing to really happen on the trip.

An elderly gentleman in the window seat in front of me stands up to get off the train at the next stop. A guy sitting next to the old man has to rise to let him pass. When the gentleman is gone, the guy turns to me and looks surprised.

“Petri?! What are you doing here? It’s been, what… 7 years since we last saw? What’s up?!”

Oh well. I guess I just have to decide that I’ll wrap up the story at some point. This is real life and in real life, things keep happening. There will be new days. There will be new, strange encounters. There will be new adventures. The Christmas trip needs an ending. This is a good one.

And tomorrow I’ll write about something else. Because things will happen. Things that are worth writing about.

Schedules are a bitch to keep. When I started writing this blog, my plan was “every other day, no exceptions”. Less than 10 posts into it and I’m failing that goal miserably. Decided to go to Tampere again this weekend (this time to see friends’ new apartment) and spent both Saturday and Sunday there. It’s not that the post wasn’t ready before midnight last night, but it, like every other post I write, needed some serious editing love before I could even think about publishing. Getting from the draft into a proper readable whole takes more time than the draft itself.

Everything comes to an end.

27th December, 2009. I’m sitting in the hotel-room somewhere in the grayness of Jyväskylä, looking at the remains of a faithful pair of jeans. They’ve served me well for the past years. They’ve been there for the good and the bad. For the depressive winter and the manic summer. A moment earlier I had been at the hotel restaurant, getting ready to enjoy yet another happy moment wearing them – an extremely filling breakfast. But everything comes to an end. The mistake I made was to force a slight split to get past a tactically placed houseplant with my tray of food. I’m quite sure that the couples in the nearest tables heard the sound of fabric ripping as well. The end didn’t come with a whimper.

When disaster like this strikes, you end up with a choice, a fork in the road. A fork, with two possible options in front of you. Either you do the fast retreat or the slow retreat. Getting away from the situation fast means less people will have a shot at noticing how you’re showing your bright white underwear, but you’ll draw more attention to yourself with all the rushing movement. Slow version has the probabilities reversed. More people, less attention. I took it slow and nonchalantly waltz out. Happy that I didn’t choose to wear the Snoopy boxers today.

So, here I am.

I’m quite sure that someone noticed what happened. More than just someone I guess. Dark gray and white contrast way too well. But the question “Did someone notice?” turns into “Do I really care?” as the world turns. Ends are just new beginnings, I bid the pants farewell after moping for way too long about it and move on. When I return to the breakfast table I get a couple of smiles from the people who probably know, but these things happen, so they don’t dwell on it.

I manage to get my delicious breakfast in the end and then return to my room.

Before I have to check out of the hotel, I have time to be amazed at the number of people I know from Jyväskylä. Social networking and announcing your travel routes causes me being treated with a number of “Are you kidding, what are you doing here” messages, but sadly, as many “Damn, I have to go to work today, why do you leave so early” ones. But it’s nice to know that in case I ever come back, I probably won’t have to spend a millisecond alone in this town.

I head out (read: I have to check out), walk around the town a bit (still freezing), toss my suitcase to the train station lockers (it’s heavy and not really practical in all the snow), and then I get suckered into my favorite pastime – shopping. In the past year I’ve probably spent more money on clothes than I have in the previous five years or so. It’s a small miracle that I manage to avoid buying any new ones from the local shopping center. I am tempted, I admit. The closest thing to a completely useless item I almost  buy this afternoon is the first book of Twilight Saga. There is a part of me that wants to get it and just read through it because it’s probably quite good.

The two items that do find their way into my shopping bag are an Audrey Hepburn wall calendar and a bottle of Acqua Di Gio. It’s not a huge secret that Audrey represents the ideal fantasy girl for me. A wonderful balance of the tomboyish and elegantly feminine. I have such a huge crush on her. And I had been missing a calendar for 2010. Simple, practical, just what I was needing, and pleases my aesthetics.

The Armani fragrance is a bit longer story. I’m usually the type to favor of stronger, musky ones like YSL’s M7, but lately I’ve been wearing them out of habit rather than thinking about it. And as the whole trip here has been about breaking habits (starting with the “I will stay home and be a hermit for Christmas”), I feel like I should be clearing out the mold in other ways as well.

“Hi. I need a new fragrance for me.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know,” I smile as I realize how many times I’ve admitted that not having a clue in the past days, “Maybe you can help me?”

“What do you usually use?”

“I’d like to get something different from that. Can you tell me something about the different products and what your opinions on them are?”

I seem to have found the local person to bother with my questions.

After the shopping spree I need a break, and head to the nearest McDonald’s. Here I buy myself a diet coke and connect to the WLAN. I talk with some few friends with my mind firmly set to the future already. Talking about the following week, organizing schedules, getting back to work. All that.

I’m admitting to myself that everything has to come to an end. Even this trip.

“Where are you at?” a message pops up.

It’s Ry, one of those people who live in Jyväskylä.

“At the Kauppakatu McDonald’s. Just resting my brain for a moment, then maybe a museum or something. Dunno. Kinda bored already.”

“When does your train leave?”

“In three hours. Depends on how late they’re running today.”

“Cool. This is a perfect excuse for us all to go to Harald! Hope you haven’t eaten at McDonald’s yet?”

“Like I’d actually eat here. Just here for the quality WLAN.”

“Great. We’ll see you in 20 minutes.”

Okay. Everything ends when it actually does end. Not a few hours before.

The possible audiences a blogger writes for can easily put into two categories. “You” and “not you”. Neither is really the optimal target group for a blog – if you write for others, you might end up in a situation where it starts feeling like a chore. You only aim to please a fickle reader you never really meet and get frustrated when you’re not getting the response you wanted. The other option is writing for yourself, which is good for the morale, but might degenerate the quality, possibly to the levels of “dear diary, here’s a picture of my cat sitting on my laundry, ain’t he funny.” So, neither path is really good, but you have to choose. I’ve usually gone with writing to an audience route, but I’ll admit here and now that this blog will be something I’ll be doing for myself. So you’ll probably end up facing cat-pics at some point. Sorry.

I haven’t been fully linear about my Christmas Trip. There is a bit that I skipped earlier, because it would have been sort of a pointless distraction. But I’d like to return to it now. Remember back when I was drying my hair back at the Hotel Ilves before heading out, chatting with friends online. I had this brief conversation with Ni, a friend from Helsinki, back then.

“Tampere? Weren’t you going to spend your holidays in Helsinki? What are you doing in Tampere?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, ”not a clue, really.”

“You’ve probably seen all our friends who live there, right?”

“Nope, none. They’re way too clever to be around when I come knocking.”

“Oh, so what’s on your program next?”

“Probably hitting the bars or something. Not much to do here. It gets worse tomorrow when I’m continuing to Jyväskylä.”

“Seriously? What on Earth are you going to do in JKL?”

“No idea about that, either. I’m going with the flow here. Last I heard there was nothing but snow there.”

“Sounds about right. Want to come get coffee tomorrow?”

“Whuh? I’m going to Jyv… Wait… What are you doing in Jyväskylä?” I was quite surprised, I admit.

“Oh, my folks live here. Visiting them for Christmas.”

We agreed to meet the next evening.

So, to return to the linear narrative and the 26th December (the “next evening”).

I bid Tampere and the wacky adventures I’ve had here a fond farewell and climb aboard the train to Jyväskylä. Not many people going my way, so no-one to talk to during the trip. Doesn’t really bother me this time, I have some work to do anyways. I try and enjoy the view for a while, but it’s a bit too dark outside and there’s only so much enjoyment one can have from random glimpses of snow in the darkness.

The train makes a stop at Jämsä and I get a sudden flashback from the previous night. It’s the bathroom of Groove. I’m taking a leak. And for some reason chatting with the DJ who is doing the same. He recommends that since I’m going to the direction of Jyväskylä, I should stop at Jämsä and go to some music venue there. He tells me there’s a famous Finnish band playing there on the 26th, that’s tonight.

I’m almost out the train when it hits me. I remember which band it was and quickly retreat back to my seat. Cold sweat rises on the thought of being stuck in Jämsä for the night, listening to this:

So, Jyväskylä it is.

The rest of the train ride is nice, smooth and quick. And in no time I find myself out in the brisk winter air of the vibrant university town, Jyväskylä. A sole reindeer statue is there to greet me, covered in untouched snow, reminding me how I’ve just moved further up north, and how things won’t be getting warmer any time soon. The vibrancy of the town quickly becomes apparent as it dawns on me that it’s the Christmas vacation and no self-respecting student would miss on the family Christmas dinner back home. And usually home is not in Jyväskylä for these people… Cue the frozen tumbleweed rolling along the empty street and some ominous harmonica music playing.

I start dragging myself through the snow along what probably is one of the the main streets of Jyväskylä and making my way to the hotel. After spending a night at Ilves, I have my hopes up for Jyväshovi (both being Sokos hotels after all). And while the place looks and feels okay, the difference is notable. Ilves was high-tech, steel and glass, and Jyväshovi is probably best described as “cozy”. Couple of floors, wooden interior, interesting placement of structural beams inside the room (no idea how you can see the television through a concrete pilar). The receptionist is friendly, but distant.

I have finally reached the low point of my trip. I actually want to go back to Tampere.

Saved by a phone call – Ni is parking her car nearby and asks if I’m ready to go get something to eat.

We head to Amarillo, order food, drink some glögi. It’s strange to meet Ni here. I can’t say that I know her at all. She’s still sort of a friend of a friend to me – We’ve seen only a couple of times and the only really common thread between us is the love for Brad Warner’s Hardcore Zen (the book). But we get along. And I guess I’ve missed a familiar face. So time flies.

At some point after I’m finished eating my Giant Barbecue XXXL Burger (or something, can’t remember the name. Big-ass burger with bacon), Ni decides that I should get a grand tour of Jyväskylä. She’s here by car, so we wouldn’t have to freeze our ears off, and I don’t see a reason why not.

I must admit that seeing Jyväskylä like this makes a nice impression. It’s a small town and there’s not much to see, but it has a lot of open space and the architecture is modern. I feel privileged because of how much Ni can tell me about the place and sorry because I’m so tired I can’t remember what she tells me the next morning. I don’t think I could live here, it’s too quiet. But at least I’m no-longer longing to get away as fast as I can.

Ni drops me off near the hotel when I start dozing off in her car. I get to the hotel safe and sound, decide that I’ll have to put on something more party-appropriate, head to the closest nightclub, meet new people and have another great night.

But first, I need get out of these winter shoes and rest my feet a couple of moments.

I wake up the next morning.

Also. Dear diary, here is a picture of my cat, sitting on my jeans. Ain’t he funny.

I’m slowly starting to run out of these small meta-blog paragraphs to start the entries with, but I guess that’s just a good thing as I don’t have to justify the existence of each and every entry by explaining how they will be just me rambling about my trip instead of being real blog entries.

There’s a trick to survive a night out with a group of rich people who are trying to get drunk. Or very drunk. It’s called “non-alcoholic beer” and I admit right here and now – it’s cheating and against the natural order of things. But not buying yourself alcoholic drinks when the people around you are doing that for you is a great way to survive. The non-beer slows the partying to a more bearable pace.

“Sorry, I’ll finish this beer I have here before I can consider drinking another round. Why don’t you lot drink that gin tonic you brought me as well.”

It’s a dirty trick, but it serves its purpose. I stayed witty and aware all through last night.

But even if alcohol was kept in check, I was up late last night. So when I wake up around nine, it’s onlybeen four hours of so of sleep. And standing up makes me instantly remember the second thing I’ve forgotten to take with me to this trip. Band-aids. The winter boots I have with me aren’t a perfect fit. They’re good in normal conditions, but after a long night on the dance floor, I have about 5 blisters on each foot. And one of them is really painful to walk with, so I limp downstairs and greet the always-helpful receptionist. She looks at me with pity in her eyes, I suspect the limping looks really nasty.

“Good morning there… You don’t happen to have any band-aids…? I seem to have gotten an UPI last night…”

“UPI?”

“Unidentified Party Injury. Actually just a blister on my big toe.”

“Sure, wait a moment. How big a band-aid do you need?” she smiles as she pulls out a med-kit.

She’s my saving angel, really. I return to my room, get some padding on the painful blister and go get breakfast. After filling my stomach with diet food goodness like bacon, sausages and other meat with eggs and stuff,  I go and ask about what’s there to do at Tampere today.

“Well, today most of the bars will be open, so no need to try to figure out where to go. And there are the Tapanin tanssit everywhere, so you should more options than you need,” she’s already used to my questions, but I can only assume that the long night working is taking a toll. She’s not as bright and shiny as she was last night.

“How about during the day?”

“Well. No… Not really. No,” she wears the same expression of shame as she did yesterday when she last explained to me that there was nothing to do at Tampere.

I remember the rest of the blisters. “I take it that the pharmacies aren’t open today either?”

“There is one that should be, actually!”

Something good, at least. She again makes me a map so I can get there easily.

I go back to my room and sleep for a couple of hours more. It’s not enough, but better than nothing. I have an ominous feeling that the lack of sleep will come and bite me in the ass later-on.

When I check out from my room at noon, the receptionist has been replaced. Well, such is life. Would have been nice to say thanks to her for all the trouble, or at least a goodbye.

I walk out, and immediately remember why I was regretting the trip here yesterday. It’s still freezing outside. And there’s nothing open (except the pharmacy, which is nice). I walk around for a while, trying my luck with the local galleries and theaters and even consider for a moment of going to the movies. But decide against it as “there will be better adventures out here to be discovered!” – Shows just how little I know.

In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning in my mind ever since.

”Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone,” he told me, ”just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”

Well, I don’t really feel like criticizing people that often. And it wasn’t actually my dad who said that. Nor was it said to me. Just something I read in a book. But it holds true. I’ve lived a sheltered life, so I it’s not my right to say about other people’s decisions – there always are things underneath that I will never know that serve as reasons for actions I don’t understand.

But still, for crying out loud, if you’re sitting in McDonald’s and telling your friends how Transformers 2 is the greatest movie ever because of the complicated and clever script that has things fitting the world history so perfectly, you should probably get some help.

There are two conversations that I overhear during the day. First one is about Transformers 2 being great, and the other one about travelling that at first sounds infinitely better. Someone is considering to go to Australia for a month. You know, the place where it’s summer just about now. When they start thinking how much they’ll miss Finland, I give up and head out again.

It’s the afternoon of December 26th, 2009 and I’m losing my faith in mankind once again.

The next few hours I spend walking around Tampere are utterly boring and nothing happens. No one wants to be outdoors, nothing is open. No matter how much I try to sugar-coat the last moments I spend walking the streets, they’re still nondescript. I end up at the railway station way before the train is scheduled to leave, and start writing the first entry to this blog. I find myself thinking that there won’t be a really nice narrative to it that will span through the whole trip to Tampere – nothing that would make a nice “whole” out of the individual entries.

That’s when I hear a friendly “Hi!” that sounds like it’s directed at me, and look up. Takes a moment to realize it’s the friendly face of the receptionist looking back at me from the crowd. When she sees that I notice her, she smiles one last time, waves at me a goodbye and heads towards a train leaving to Helsinki. I look at the timetable at the wall and notice how the bad weather is delaying the train to Jyväskylä for yet another 10 minutes.

I make last adjustments to the first post and consider for a moment if I should be going after the receptionist and heading back home. But I decide to go on with the original plan and take the train to Jyväskylä, the great unknown, since there will probably be something awesome happening there.

Shows just how little I know.

Reaching the five posts milestone should probably mark a spot where the blog’s themes, if any, should be quite apparent. Looking at those previous four posts, I think the blog’s about nothing but being whiny about the weather. In fact, it’s a downright depressed ranting of someone who has a personal beef with snow and cold.

Is it too late to change the direction this blog is heading?

Probably not, but to be truthful, I still have a lot of reporting to do from the trip to Tampere and beyond to do, so I’ll stay the course and whine.

It’s the evening of Christmas Day, I’m at Tampere after a spur-of-the-moment pact forced me out of the comfort of my home city. More precisely, I’m sitting in a pub called London, watching a group of guys dance to the beat of What is Love (or some other classic 90′s euro-dance song) and ripping their shirts off. Truth be told, this really isn’t all that surprising. It is something primordial that just happens when Finnish people are drunk and hear “good old dance hits” from the 90′s. I actually have a theory that any Finnish party out there can be saved by a well-timed application of Dr. Alban, Haddaway, 2 Unlimited or some other classic. This of course means that you accept “saved” meaning loads of drunken men on the dance floor.

And these guys are pretty much embracing the concept of drunken men on the dance floor, maybe even doing some more inappropriate things to it. So of course the next thing in the natural order of events is that they’re getting thrown out of the bar. You just don’t dance drunk and shirtless in a Finnish pub without repercussions. We are serious people.

Let me reveal to you a little secret, but handy rule that you should follow when confronted with a situation where a group of merry people are getting thrown out of a bar and you are sitting there, watching it go down: You should go and join them. So, I finish my drink as fast as I can, introduce myself and then me and my new friends are heading away from London and to the next possible party location. Their group consists of 3 Finnish guys, 2 Estonian girls and an Estonian guy. Awesome company. They accept me as one of their own in a second.

Ah, yeah, I didn’t talk the girls in this post yet, did I? Quick rundown. They’re the two I mentioned in the previous part as “A duo of surprisingly trendy girls is sitting in the corner”, and turns out they’re with the guys who were on the dance floor. One of them is the wife of one of the Finnish guys and the other is her niece. The Estonian guy is the boyfriend of the niece. And the two other Finnish guys are the husband of the sister of that one guy who is married to the Estonian and the other one is maybe this guy’s brother. I’m not really sure. And don’t ask me to repeat their names, I may remember like two. If forced.

It’s a real shame that the girls are Estonian, since they actually have some style and elegance. And this is a shame only because it would have been nice to write at this point of the story “and so finally I run into some stylish Finnish people on the trip”, but alas.

The girls decide that we should head to Gloria, a nightclub which is pretty much as far as you can get from London along the main street. Lots of slipping on the icy streets, singing and whining of “are we there yet” later, we are at the door, but since the wife and mother of three (as I later find out) doesn’t have her I.D. card with her, so the bouncer tells “Sorry, but you’re not getting in tonight.”

Don’t blame him, she looks young.

This isn’t the only bar we turned away from. The I.D. is a problem only at the first venue. Couple of the guys being too drunk turns out to be a big issue for  the bouncers. I think a sensible person would just ditch his new friends and go inside a nice and cozy bar after getting the second “Sorry, the rest of the group can come in, but he’s a bit too tipsy to come in” at a door. It just highlights how solid my brain is frozen at this point that I’m sticking with the group, that manages to end up at a random nightclub only after an eternity of walking in the cold.

The name of the place is eluding me because I really don’t care at this point, just want to get away from the chill. I think the feeling is shared by everyone in the group. You have to remember – it is nuclear winter out there. We do end up changing the nightclub/bar/pub we’re at a couple of times after this, but describing all that in detail would just be me repeating the story above a few times, so I’ll just let you know where we eventually decide to stay. A bar called Groove.

The hours fly by, and while I don’t tear my shirt off, I do spend a good deal of the evening on the dance floor, following the ultimate rule to male dancing: “if you dance, dance like there’s no-one watching.” Groove has a nice RnB/Hip Hop atmosphere to it and the DJ is playing everything great, from the current radio hits to older Eminem to real classics like Tricky. The Estonians start thanking me at some point (I’d say at the “handshaking phase of the evening” when you just have to shake hands with everyone and thank them for everything) for bringing them here – the music selection is just that awesome. I make a mental note to thank the receptionist for explaining the bars to me. By the morning I will have forgotten all about that note as I have other things to worry about.

I end up talking a lot with the girls as the guys are getting way too drunk to have a decent conversation with anymore. They’re originally from Tartu, one of the two Estonian cities I’ve actually been to. And I know my way around the place, so it’s fun to get a native view on what it’s really like. “Boring” seems to be the answer. But still, hearing stories of familiar places rekindles the flame I have for that city. I will have to go there again next summer for a couple of days at least. Road trip, anyone?

Eventually the night comes to an end and we part ways. I still have no idea what these people did for their living or what their names were. They hop in a cab and head home. I walk two blocks, smile and nod at the receptionist and head upstairs to the 14th floor to get some well-deserved rest.

I finally have the feeling that coming on this trip is going to be totally worth it.