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.

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/2010/01/14/slusho/ http://finnish-beauty.com/2010/01/14/slusho/#comments Thu, 14 Jan 2010 21:42:04 +0000 Ptr http://finnish-beauty.com/?p=150 Okay, deep breaths. I can still do this, right? Even if I feel like I don’t have the time. I’m one day behind the schedule, and will end up lagging even more soon. I’m heading to Berlin to a conference for this weekend (yeah, you’ll be hearing these “well, I have plans to X this weekend” excuses for many weeks to come), so be prepared for more skipping of the schedule ahead. There is a slight chance that I get something written while in Berlin if there is some downtime. But even if I do, it’s unlikely that whatever I write there will have all that much to do with Finland. Well, we’ll see what happens. One more breath. Stay calm. Stop wasting your time. Focus and write your damn blog.

To get back home from work today I had to use a shovel to get my car clear from behind a huge pile of snow and ice.

No, it didn’t snow today.

And my car was there only for two hours.

This and the fact that I had parked on a parking square didn’t stop the city workers from deciding that it’s okay to bury my poor blue Mitsubishi darling under the all snow they decided to clear from the street. I don’t think I’ve ever been this relieved to actually have a shovel in my car before. Well, there was that one time near the city dump, but I’d rather not talk about it.

Today it came to a use that was all good and respectable.

Took me about 20 minutes to get the damn thing cleared, and not just because of the wall of snow. Some trendy graphic-designer-looking guy had parked his car so that it blocked the only clear way out from behind the snow. The city workers must have had some relapse into humanity when they left that out, sadly this guy didn’t share the view.

When I had managed to dig up my car, he came walking to me, stepped in the car and moved it away, waving from the window, saying something like “oh, I hope I didn’t park you in there.”

I’m not a violent man, but I did get some not-so-creative ideas about my shovel and where it could be stored.

The really nasty thing about standing there in the snow for 20 minutes, shoveling, is that I tend to live in denial about the weather during these winter months. I wear my summer shoes and light pants whenever possible. I don’t use earmuffs, I don’t usually have a wool cap with me, I use a scarf only because it looks good. Last winter someone probably saw me walking in the snow wearing shorts and sandals. Unless it’s absolutely necessary I try to be more suited up for autumn or spring than winter. And since I have to spend about 10 minutes outdoors during my typical work day, a bit of winter doesn’t have time to bother me. Usually.

Two things were different today. First of all, there was that whole spending 20 minutes playing a St. Bernard to my car. And second… the “I don’t mind the weather” look is actually easier to pull when it is colder. This morning it was just maybe -3°C out there. The problem with the clothing isn’t the temperature. I can live with the chill.

It’s the shoes. They’re the killer.

Okay, technically it’s the snow.

You’ve heard the story how the Inuit have 600 words for different sorts of snow, right? The authenticity of that is something everyone can think of themselves, but “Loska”, the Finnish word for that awful watery snow (slush?) that forms around 0°C temperatures, is something that you should remember.

Remember it and have depressive nightmares about it.

Nightmares about it where you sink in it.

No matter how you try to balance or walk around it.

And it’s awful.

Bad-awful.

Bad.

That’s what you should be thinking when you hear the word “Loska”. That’s what my feet were thinking of when I finally got my car home. I almost thought I’d write a post about how the weather here is hell and I can’t stand it and I want to have tantrums and head somewhere warm where there are palm trees and stuff.

But as I hang my shoes and socks to dry, I must admit that there is one thing that’s awesome about all the snow and the temperature. Looking out the window, it’s still bright outside. Even when the sun hasn’t been up for hours. There is a slight mist in the air that refracts the light from the streetlights and nearby windows, and that gets reflected from the bright white snow covering everything. It’s an ambient glow that just flows in the air. And it’s just cold enough, that there are small particles of ice in the mist, that when they get in between you and a light source, they sparkle.

That, combined with the frost-covered trees that we have had for a week now, makes the winter landscape look like something unreal – straight out of a video game or a high-budget Hollywood animation.

I make a cup of hot chocolate, put on some completely unfitting music to play in the background and lean back in the sofa, letting my back muscles rest. They got some nice workout from the snow-shoveling and deserve a break.

There are a lot of ways to deal with the snow and the cold and the slush.

Sometimes it’s walking there, letting the whole atmosphere get to you and ignore the bad things about it.

Sometimes it’s cursing about it as loud as you can.

At the moment, being indoors, watching the cold from the protective circle of warmth the fireplace radiates feels just like the way to enjoy this.

I drink my hot drink and start pondering why I haven’t taken a nice pause like this in a while. Then I start remembering – I should be falling asleep soon if I want to be able to get up in time. In time so I can go to work early in the morning. Go there early so I can leave early. Early because I need to check in for the flight to Berlin at 15:45. And I haven’t even packed yet.

Okay, deep breaths. I can still do this, right? Even if I feel like I don’t have the time. What do you need for a weekend trip again? Spare pants? Toothbrush? Camera! Where is my camera? One more breath. Stay calm. Stop wasting your time. Focus and pack your damn bags.

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.

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.

The easy thing to do next, after posting a fun lighthearted travel report, would be to start writing some stuff with a clear agenda – And to be fully honest with you, I’d love to talk about the way franchises have spread out so that everything is always the same, no matter where you go. Or something really strong and clear like that. But I’ll stick to the plan and write about my trip away from a Christmas in Helsinki.

Quick recap: There I am, in the middle of the busiest street of Tampere, in the afternoon (the traditional rush-hour time in Finland), and there is not a soul in sight. My hotel is only a short trip away, near the river and there is no point in not walking the distance. I think I see about 7 cars and 3 more people on the way. Two of them are Brits who walk from the train station to the hotel with me. Welcome to Tampere, hope you enjoy your stay, we won’t be around to make sure you do.

I get my room key card, spend a good moment figuring out the elevator system and head to my room as soon as I get over the shame of not understanding modern technology. The first thing there I’m greeted by a television screen. I dismiss the welcome message on the screen and Disney Channel pops up. An episode of Cars Toons where some old pick up truck is imagining itself as the main character of The Fast and The Furious 3: Tokyo Drift. Some sort of a low-point must have been reached when they came up with that idea.

I stare in disbelief for a few moments at the 3D animated version of the bastard stepchild of a Vin Diesel movie and decide to head downstairs and get something to eat before I feel too sick to even consider. I go past the Amarillo tex-mex bar and to the Fransmanni restaurant. Both of them are part of the S-Ryhmä group, same as the hotel, and really are the reason I wanted to add an agenda to this post at some point. But I’ll skip the rant with a passing mention that there are really well-thought out franchises and brands that hail from Finland and Sweden that don’t have anything to be shamed about in comparison to the American ones that people usually blame for the emerging monoculturalism. Just travel the Baltics for a moment or two.

I sit down in a quiet corner table and order some food. A nice compilation of jazz and swing songs is playing in the background. When I arrive I’m the only one around, but am soon joined by a Japanese businessman, carrying a shiny briefcase and looking very stern and important. He sits in the table next to me, leaving his briefcase almost in my reach and starts looking through the menu. Now, remember the whole jazz soundtrack playing in the background and this being a hotel restaurant with a high class atmosphere. The waitress fumbles, or something like that happens (I have no idea what exactly, I was looking outside at this point) and suddenly the Japanese man is standing up and walking away from his table, talking loudly to the waitress who might be apologizing or explaining in response while backing away.

There lies the briefcase in my reach, there is a distraction that feels oh-so-well choreographed. There is the angry, important-looking Japanese man and there is the cool soundtrack. Everything sort of falls into place in my mind – I let the scenario of me snatching the case or switching it with a duplicate play in my head a few times. It’s so perfectly Ocean’s Eleven that when I let myself return from my fantasies, I have a stupid grin on my face. Being a friend of heist movies is rewarding sometimes, it seems. The Japanese man calms down and everything sort of cools off.

And happiness finally finds me, wearing the guise of good food and an unintentional movie genre reference. I walk back to the reception, where a pretty receptionist is stuck working through the holiday weekend, and worse – she’s stuck helping me through the day.

“Hiya,” I say with a wide, happy smile. The smile would be a warning sign if you knew me, but the poor girl doesn’t.

“Hello. Anything I can help you with?”

“Well, depends. Do you know if there is anything to do here today?”

“Well, not much, but we’ve been putting together a list, one moment!” she’s visibly happy that someone’s asking after the hard work that has been done, pulls out a paper and starts telling me which bars are open in the evening. I listen, smile and nod. And then ask the question that makes her smile drain from her lips and feel embarrassment for her home town.

“No, I mean is there anything to do today, during the daytime? Some art stuff happening in the parks or I don’t know, something?”

“Oh…Well. No, I don’t know about that.”

We ponder for a while if there is anything happening, checking the local newspaper and all, but the city is pretty literally dead. The only things she can think to do before the bars open is hang around at the hotel restaurant or go to the sauna section. She apologizes, I tell her not to worry and head out to explore the city.

My background with Tampere is a pleasant one. There are no ex girlfriends here, no bad work experiences, just a lot of friends who live here. I’ve come to the city several times before and I shouldn’t be a stranger to the place. But truth be told, I’ve never really had the chance to wander around and get the feel of the city.

I do what I always do in a new city – Make a mental note where the hotel is, pick a direction, walk, find awesome. It usually works pretty well. And this gives me a chance to finally formulate a map of all the places I had been to on my previous visits. I head towards Pyynikki, and somehow manage to take a wrong turn and miss the view tower (which might actually be open, unlike everything else). I see lots of pretty buildings, freezing my ears off. (note to self: buy ear muffs) But otherwise the trip is pretty uneventful.

On the way back I realize the first thing that I’ve forgotten to take with me – ice skates. There is a rink open, and I remember thinking, half-joking at the time, if I should take them with me. I watch couples enjoy the evening moment and a father teaching a kid skate for the first time. It’s nice to think that all the presents this Christmas weren’t video games or DVDs.

I am clearly getting into the winter mood. It’s a time for warmth, beauty and happiness. I find myself thinking of the cute receptionist on my way back to the hotel and how I want to ask her something when I see her again. She’s sitting at the reception desk when I get there. I walk to her, and manage to get words formed from underneath the mask of ice and snow covering my face.

“You mentioned something about the hotel having a sauna?”

First posts and all that. Lots of pressure. Need to set the over-all themes and moods and things like that. My previous big blog started with “I’m single again” and ended up being about my life as a nerd. So, they matter.

I’m at the Tampere railway station, waiting for my train to Jyväskylä to arrive. The weather is close to what postcard-makers have their wet dreams over – brisk, cold, snowy. Very snowy. The sort of snowy that covers statues just perfectly so that you still see the form, but it still conveys the image of purity with the white veil that hangs on it and says “perfect to ski here, mate!” in an Australian accent.

Your friends who get the postcards you send to them made in this weather will look at them and gasp in awe – “Oh dear, Poodles. The Wellingtons are in such a pretty place. Should we go there as well next year?” They won’t, of course since they have to deal with that nasty sex scandal when the winter comes. So your secret will stay safe. Those magical postcard moments come with a price. Why do they think there was no-one in the picture of that beautiful building draped in snow? It’s so damn cold and windy no-one sane would go outside.

I’ll get to my current situation in a few posts time, hopefully, but let’s rewind a couple of days and get to the beginning of this all. Xmas Eve. I’m sitting home, getting ready to spend the next couple of days in Christmas bliss – listening to hip-hop and pop punk, drinking Pepsi Max and re-reading Warren Ellis’ Transmetropolitan. Someone on this Earth needs to uphold the important holiday traditions, so why not me. I start chatting with a friend on Facebook and the next thing I know I’ve made a pact with her to get the Hell away from where we’re currently at (I’m in Helsinki, she’s in Geneve) on the first train that leaves on Christmas Day and reporting what happens on our trips via the Internet. There are few things that I’m very vulnerable to. One of them is crazy ideas like this.

So, quick reservation of train tickets, book rooms at hotels and pack the bag. On Christmas Day I wobble to the train station around noon. The only people around are a bunch of Romani kids flirting with each other and trying to get smokes from passer-bys. Few moments later more people start arriving. Black, gray, black, dark brown, blue jeans. Occasional young blonde thing in a white coat. A blur of people dressed in camouflage from being noticed rush by. This is Helsinki on Christmas Day. Hurry, worry, anxiety. People call their friends how they’ve missed the train and swear how everything is shit. How the timetables on the internet weren’t accurate (even if they were) and how now the Christmas is ruined because of it. A guy in a pilot jacket with a big dog exchanges glances with the dark-skinned workers rushing through the station.

The train arrives. I get a seat opposite to a young woman who is knitting socks for her godchildren. First sign of Finns being more than just dark and depressed on this trip. She’s going to Hämeenlinna, so she’s there only for the first half of my trip to Tampere. We don’t talk much or anything like that. Just small-talk, laughing at the situations that rise in the train (and there are a lot of those). The usual stuff. It feels so normal while it’s going on that you don’t even realize how out of place it is in a Finnish travel environment. She hops off at Hämeenlinna. For a moment I wonder if I should have gone there instead of Tampere.

I really start missing the woman when the seat she leaves vacant is filled by some kid who keeps telling his dad stories of what he saw on the Duudsonit DVD set he had gotten for a Christmas present from his mom (apparently the parents are divorced and the kid was with the mom for Christmas Eve and heads to dad’s place for the rest of the holidays). His father protests and says he doesn’t want to hear about it. But still the kid continues. He’s so fascinated by the people who had put hooks into their skin and pulled a car several meters with wires tied to the hooks that he doesn’t realize how awkward his dad is being about it. The dad’s too old and too proper for that shit, and his ex-wife is ruining his kid with that garbage when he’s not there to keep guard. He will probably make them ski and play some video games when they get to where-ever they were going. Just so that he can keep control of how fast they are aging.

To distract myself from the kid, I put on some music and I find myself thinking how awesome Tampere will be. Full of Christmas festivities, parks filled with performances and art. Maybe a Christmas Day market. At least a lot of people who are doing interesting stuff. And a beautiful weather.

At this point, imagine a fast cut some hour or so forward, to me standing in the middle of the empty main street of Tampere, wind blowing snow everywhere. No cars or people are in sight. And it’s getting dark (even though it’s like 3pm)

Suddenly I wonder if I really should have hopped off at Hämeenlinna instead. The magic post-card moment is peeling my face off with it’s magical postcardness.