Trans Siberian Part 12 - The Baltic

Helsinki

It wasn't originally part of the plan to go to the Finnish Capital.  When it came to crossing to central Europe, I had started out with a somewhat vague plan. Crossing Belarus (too expensive) or the complicated mess involved in transiting through Estonia and Lithuania to get to Poland.  In the end the Finnish alternative won out, not only for simplicities sake, but it would also enable me to visit friends.  So here I was, ready to cross the Baltic towards Hamburg, like Wolf before me.

At the airy modern station, snow flurrying in from its open train disgorging end, I was met by Nina Rung, a native Helsinkian who used to work with me back in London before moving back home.  She has a blog too.  Here is a Link to it 

Nina!

Anyway.  It was a sharp sparkling night.  Snow drifting down like points of light.  I wandered down the platform to be directly met by Nina and her boyfriend, who had to quickly speed off as he was working in the morning.  Then I caught a tram with Nina back to her place.

The next day:

"Day 14 Monday the17th of December 2012.  Nina's House, Helsinki, Finland 18:45 (GMT +2)

Buried cars

In Nina's rather cosy little apartment.  One bed, plus my mattress upon the floor.  A kitchen counter, a table, 2 tall chairs, some boxes, tools, stools, a large black trunk and an antique wooden stepladder doubling as shelves.
 

Helsinki is quite a lovely pleasant town.  Out like a light last night after getting a tram though the falling snow to here.

She made me some fish soup, with rye bread, which was actually lovely despite my usual aversion to salmon.

Finnish BlackSmith

Apparently I was talking in my sleep again - "it'll work out" "okeydokey" despite the latter, apparently I sounded like a spy.  This morning, more Finnish specialties - a wonderful cheese - translated as dough cheese, similar to grilled halloumi, with apples and oranges, booked my ferry then off to walk about town, down towards the docks, tramping down hills covered in snow, cars and bikes, buried in smooth wind sculptured white, large piles of snow, miniature peaks on every corner, gathered from the cleared streets.  The snow underfoot was a mix of snow and sand, difficult to see where either ended.

We wandered around by the docks via an indoor market selling reindeer meats and the like, then on towards a cathedral with an outdoor Christmas market the square before it."

Helsinki Cathedral

The heated and clear main street

 Helsinki is a rather handsome modern city.  Lots of parks, lots of open space.  The main street was clear of snow, it shone, its wet surface shining with reflected light.  Its a heated street, hot water pipes below melt the snow above.  Pretty astonishing.  Hearing of this, I knelt down on the ground, removed a glove, and put my hand to the brick work floor.  I couldn't feel it of course.

We headed on down towards Stockmann, a large and lush department store, the centre of Helsinki's commercial life, according to Nina.

She needed to pick up some Dutch Krona for the holiday she was departing on the next day, so we rode the escalators to the top of the giant complex, Christmas trees and lights looming above the perfume counters of the central hall.

Main street Helsinki

Cinnamon

Then it was off to a cake shop for a gigantic cinnamon bun and endless coffee.  It was much needed.  My body was shutting itself down after the stresses of Russia.  I had reached a pit stop on my journey.  Easy and relaxing.  And so my energy abandoned me as I slumped from seat to seat.  Shop to shop.

After some Pecan pie and ice cream it was off to the railway station to catch a tram around the whole city. 

Helsinki felt more like a second city then it did a capital.  Somehow more knowable then a city like London or Moscow, or even Dublin.  It felt contained, navigable, safe.  A walkable city.

Shocked on our tram tour

The tram however made it feel somewhat bigger, we went quite a way, looping out beyond the fun fair; closed for winter; it's Ferris wheel and roller coaster perched atop an outcrop of rock off to the north. Between it and the city centre lay a great big park, its lake frozen over.  These rocky outcrops seemed fairly common, they thrust upwards amid the ordered and exquisitely designed cityscape.  A somewhat uncleared and charming touch I thought.

We flirted with the idea of going to see the Hobbit, (or, in Finnish 'Hobbiti') then wandered about the cities interlocking underground department stores for a bit.  We popped into a Moomin shop and afterwards into a little theatre hall where a craft fair was underway. - lots of stalls selling handcrafted goods.  Some of it, such as spoons newly smithed, where quite impressive, but other items were less so:  A jam jar lid with a crude frog painted onto it, a magnet glued to its back was going for €16, a box of matchsticks with a picture of an angel on it with googly eyes would cost you €8.  Quite Mad.  Very cute no doubt, but some of it was just a little bit crappy.

The park and its snowy sentinel

The somewhat unfortunately named 'Kok Thai'

We then walked the park.  Playing in the snow as we went, then off across the frozen landscape as the sun went down to eat at 'Kok Thai' Helsinki's best Thai restaurant, according to Nina.  Quite good it was too.

 Then it was back home for TV and bed.

The next morning breakfast was provided once again by Nina, before we headed to the station and she departed for her holiday.  I was left to my own devices until my ferry at 17:30.

So I wandered about.  Got lost in a large book shop, went back to the cake shop.  Sat, read, took photos.  Looked at the lovely city about me.

I dawdled at a supermarket to buy some supplies for the journey, including an unbaked roll by mistake, and some of that cheese she'd introduced me to the day before.  Basically I enjoyed the place.  Blending in among the people as they trudged about their wintery business.

Christmas in Helsinki

A finnish buggy

And so it was finally time to head to the ferry port.  I caught a tube to Rossarii station, then sweated on the snowy tarmacaddam outside, worrying I'd miss my boat, waiting for the seemingly lost 78 bus.  Finally it arrived, but we were stopping at every stop.  Slow progress.  I looked about, the bus seemed nearly full.  I looked down at my book, glanced up a paragraph later, the bus was empty but for me. 

We sped on through the dark, 16:20 feeling more like 22:00.  We finally arrived at a tiny office, lost amid car parks and industrial complexes.  There was nobody about but a woman behind a desk, she was on the phone, entreating someone 20 minutes away to hurry up - that she was unable to guarantee the Ferry would still be bobbing here.  She hung up, gave me my combination ticket/door key, and told me to wait.

So I did.  5 minutes later, 2 blond people entered the low ceiling ed marble space, they wore hi vis vests, the woman had a pink woolen hat, the man, a Santa Claus one.  Yet he hardly seemed a jolly fellow.  Still their arrival did indeed brighten up the ill lit place.  Like a pharmacy after opening hours.

Out they took me, to a 6 seater taxi.  "English?, Finnish?" asked the girl "English... well, um Irish actually" I stammered needlessly.  Then it was off across the snow burdened port to the ferry; Finnish Christmas songs spilled cheerfully from the radio.

As we went we came across a lost jam of cars, Santa opened his door and waved, we then led this lost convoy across the snow drift, through a narrow road cut out of the silken snow that meandered back and forth as though it had been carved by some salsaing rattle snake. Large trucks slid to a stop inches from our vehicular river as we past them in our winding gorge.

When finally the boat was reached it felt more like entering some multi story car park then anything else.  We drove all the way to the boats 'Lobby' area on deck 7.  I got out, waved to my guides and wished them a Merry Christmas, then in I trundled.  I opened my mouth to ask the matriarchal receptionist a question, proffering my ticket as I did so.  She silenced me with a look and I wandered off.

My cabin turned out to be on that very deck.  Inside was a man lying fully clothed upon the left hand bed watching myth busters.  I said hello, he simply stared back.

My quarters

So, leaving my bag I wandered off to explore the vessel.  I soon found somewhere to write.

"Day 15 ' The Finnlady' Helsinki, Finland
Tuesday the 18th of December 2012, 17:00 (GMT+ 2)

Aboard ship.  Not as exciting as I usually find ferries.  Men in sweaters do slow searching laps of the deck, passing each other on their own intersecting loops.  What are they looking for? Maybe they'll find it before we get to Germany.

Drinking a very expensive, very tiny cappuccino.  Its in a small glass.  Glass that is molded as though it is plastic,  had to squeeze again to be sure.  Yep.  Seems to be glass.

Such a dreary atmosphere on this boat.  We haven't even left yet!
 
I've had a good look around, theres quite a few decks, but all a bit faded really.  Music plays continuously, some Finnish pop song I guess, though it sounds vaguely Italian.

Theres a games room where X Boxes are set up to play Lego Star Wars and Lego Batman.  Across from this is a closed shop, a gym and sauna, a restaurant, bar and so forth.

Upstairs again is a small deck containing only blue chairs - my accommodation if this was the summer no doubt - and the rest is the viewing deck.

For several decks below this (4 I think) are cabins for passengers and crew.  It all has me quietly dreading my channel crossing in a few nights time.  But no matter.  All is how it is.  Though I'd jump at an easier and faster way back to Ireland right about now.

Bed early tonight methinks.  No point in prolonging this with excessive periods of consciousness."

 Next morning a brief chat with my room mate, a Moroccan.  He thinks Finland has gone down hill in the last 4 years.  He gives the human race 100 years.  100 years! How very dramatic.

Bored aboard

It was a long boring day.  Sitting in front of a window watching the Baltic.  Greyish blue and like every other mist bound ocean I've ever seen.  Dinner proved ridiculously expensive so I lived on bits of not so cooked bread and expensive coffee.  I read.  Finishing the Hobbit.  I thought a lot.  I wrote.  The glasses in the bar nearby vibrating in time with the engines distant voice. 

Rich passengers have dinner.  I have a Latte

Upon finally arriving in the port of Travemunde, it took us a full hour to steer our way into the harbour.  All was very unclear.  It seemed I was one of only two foot passengers.  The other was a somewhat acerbic American lady with loads of awkward bags and a cane. She could hardly walk.  Nevertheless, soon it was into a taxi and off to the check in office, almost a carbon copy of the building we had left behind in Helsinki.  Except there was no snow.

 So I was in Germany.   I had two days to make it to Cherbourg.