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.

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.

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.