I didn't update my journal, either paper or online, yesterday. My stomach feels a bit queasy; I'm not sure why.
I did something very, very stupid today (stupid in the financial sense, not the personal safety one). I forgot to check my Eurail pass for discounts which means I spent twice as much as I should have on my ferry ticket. As Aki sensibly pointed out to me, it would have been cheaper for me to fly back to Stockholm. I hate it when I don't think and I hate it when I miss obvious things; it makes me annoyed with myself.
Helsinki was quite nice, not least of which was because I met up with L.'s friend Aki who very generously showed me around and let me crash on his couch. We saw (and I am likely to get the names wrong here), the Helsinki Cathedral, the Russian cathedral, the market on the shore, the fortress island complex of Suomelinna, and the Tower to get a view of the city.
The highlight of the day thought was going to Fazer Cafe, a posh little place I'd passed the day before, but hadn't stopped at and so couldn't stop thinking about.
I quite believe the cake I had at Fazer is going to be the closest thing I have to sex for quite some time. I ordered a jewel-like, glistening, raspberry topped sweet, filled with custard, and nesting on a crust which tasted exactly like shortbread cookies. I wish my writing weren't so blunt so I could convey the full splendor of that dessert, but I'll try as best I can.
As good as that confection looked (like a ruby, only better because it was edible) the taste...oh gods, the taste. First, there was the tart sharpness of the raspberries prickling my tongue and making me salivate, followed by the smooth, sweet, creaminess of the custard, warming in my mouth and spreading across my tongue as it melted, and finally the crisp bite of the shortbread, a textural contrast with both the jellied consistency of the raspberries and the sensuous richness of the custard.
The first taste made me dissolve into a puddle in my chair, and the feeling didn't diminish with each subsequent bite. Over and over again, there was the tartness, the creaminess, and the crispy finish, every taste as intense as the last. For the first time, I understood the full meaning of the phrase, "Having your cake and eating it too."
The mint macchiato afterward, with it's harsh yet flavorful bittnerness, felt how I imagine a cigarette would feel after an evening of great sex. After the whole thing, I left the cafe with an improbably inappropriate grin on my face, stumbling into the street.
I'm on the ferry for the rest of the night, and don't imagine I will have much to report whilst I'm in the middle of some unknown body of water. Tomorrow, I'm back in Stockholm, and will see the VasaMuseet, Nobel Museum, Ikea, and the Ice Bar before moving on to Copenhagen, the birthplace of The Little Mermaid (squeeee!!!).
Showing posts with label finland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label finland. Show all posts
Friday, September 19, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Helsinki.
I'm in Helsinki now. The hotel I'm staying at is in the city center, per my preference; it tends to cost a bit more, but it's also a bit easier to navigate.
I didn't know that Marimekko was a Finnish company. There's a store practically on every corner and I'm in love with their prints. My beanbag chair is a Marimekko pattern for those who've seen it. Sadly, I can't afford any of their really nice things, but I did pick up a daily planner for 2009 (it was pricey but I told myself it would amoritize over time, plus I'd be reminded of my Europe trip everytime I used it) and a couple of things for a certain sugarbaby.
There's also a grocery store closeby which is good news as now I can pick up certain items I'm consuming frequently like tea and bread. I figure tomorrow, I'll buy some fruit, cheese, bread, honey, and perhaps some olive oil. Not only will that give me something to graze on during the day, but I'll have something to eat while I'm in transit.
More walking around tomorrow and a 15 hour overnight ferry to Sweden the day after that.
For now, I think I'm going to have herring for dinner. Again. Good thing I like fish.
I didn't know that Marimekko was a Finnish company. There's a store practically on every corner and I'm in love with their prints. My beanbag chair is a Marimekko pattern for those who've seen it. Sadly, I can't afford any of their really nice things, but I did pick up a daily planner for 2009 (it was pricey but I told myself it would amoritize over time, plus I'd be reminded of my Europe trip everytime I used it) and a couple of things for a certain sugarbaby.
There's also a grocery store closeby which is good news as now I can pick up certain items I'm consuming frequently like tea and bread. I figure tomorrow, I'll buy some fruit, cheese, bread, honey, and perhaps some olive oil. Not only will that give me something to graze on during the day, but I'll have something to eat while I'm in transit.
More walking around tomorrow and a 15 hour overnight ferry to Sweden the day after that.
For now, I think I'm going to have herring for dinner. Again. Good thing I like fish.
And I'm out.
I'm on the train to Helsinki, perhaps two hours away from my final destination and my demeanor is much improved.
My cabin was with a nice married couple who practiced their English with me, and graciously allowed me to practice my decrepit Russian with them. Upon finding out I went all the way to Russia, but hadn't drunk any vodka, they promptly produced a bottle (like magic!) and started pouring shots. They also shared their bread, meat, cheese, fruit, chocolate, and tomato juice with me.
I think they sensed I was a drinking lightweight as they insisted I have a sandwich and a glass of tomato juice after every shot. They would say in thickly accented English, "Eat, Cora, eat," but once I had finished my sandwich and juice, they would immediately pour another shot. I had four shots total.
In retrospect, I wonder if I was being very stupid by accepting food and drink from strangers, but I had a good feeling from them, especially the woman and they helped the 13 hour train ride pass a bit faster. All the same, I slept with my purse under my pillow and my backpack latched to the railing.
In the morning, the train attendant knocked on all the cabins and told us to get ready for customs. All bathrooms were locked as were all the doors between train compartments. An announcement was made that the train was under customs control and we were to sit in our assigned cabins until customs was over.
The process was much less painless than I expected. I told the customs agent that I did not speak Russia (this is, quite possibly, my best phrase in Russian) and responded to all his questions with "I don't understand" (also said in Russian). Satisfied that I was a dumbass who couldn't possibly have the sense to smuggle anything out of anywhere, they quickly left me alone.
My travel companions were less fortunate. The customs agents gave them much grief over the bottle of vodka, and made them fill out several forms but were still unsatisfied. Only when my companions gave them money did they leave our cabin.
About an hour that, we reached the Finland border and Finnish customs. The officials seemed genuinely surprised to see an American passport, and asked several useless questions ("Where are you from?" "America.") before returning it. About a half hour later, they came back and asked to see it again, bringing "an expert in American passports" with them. The "expert" studied the passport very intensely, asking me to take off my glasses and headscarf (I woke up with a serious case of nappy head and so had tied my shawl over my hair). They consulted with each other in Finnish, flipped through my passport several times in each direction, stared at me, and then, finally satisfied, handed my passport back.
I exchanged e-mail addresses with the female half of the couple and then my trip was over.
Oh, I forgot to mention that the hotel bellhop (in his street clothes) escorted me to the train station last night as my train did not depart until 11 p.m. I noticed that no one, no one at all, bothered me during the walk. Not a glance, not a stare, not a request (or mobbing) for pictures, not a shove. Nothing. It was a relief and only reaffirmed that I was right in my decision to leave.
My cabin was with a nice married couple who practiced their English with me, and graciously allowed me to practice my decrepit Russian with them. Upon finding out I went all the way to Russia, but hadn't drunk any vodka, they promptly produced a bottle (like magic!) and started pouring shots. They also shared their bread, meat, cheese, fruit, chocolate, and tomato juice with me.
I think they sensed I was a drinking lightweight as they insisted I have a sandwich and a glass of tomato juice after every shot. They would say in thickly accented English, "Eat, Cora, eat," but once I had finished my sandwich and juice, they would immediately pour another shot. I had four shots total.
In retrospect, I wonder if I was being very stupid by accepting food and drink from strangers, but I had a good feeling from them, especially the woman and they helped the 13 hour train ride pass a bit faster. All the same, I slept with my purse under my pillow and my backpack latched to the railing.
In the morning, the train attendant knocked on all the cabins and told us to get ready for customs. All bathrooms were locked as were all the doors between train compartments. An announcement was made that the train was under customs control and we were to sit in our assigned cabins until customs was over.
The process was much less painless than I expected. I told the customs agent that I did not speak Russia (this is, quite possibly, my best phrase in Russian) and responded to all his questions with "I don't understand" (also said in Russian). Satisfied that I was a dumbass who couldn't possibly have the sense to smuggle anything out of anywhere, they quickly left me alone.
My travel companions were less fortunate. The customs agents gave them much grief over the bottle of vodka, and made them fill out several forms but were still unsatisfied. Only when my companions gave them money did they leave our cabin.
About an hour that, we reached the Finland border and Finnish customs. The officials seemed genuinely surprised to see an American passport, and asked several useless questions ("Where are you from?" "America.") before returning it. About a half hour later, they came back and asked to see it again, bringing "an expert in American passports" with them. The "expert" studied the passport very intensely, asking me to take off my glasses and headscarf (I woke up with a serious case of nappy head and so had tied my shawl over my hair). They consulted with each other in Finnish, flipped through my passport several times in each direction, stared at me, and then, finally satisfied, handed my passport back.
I exchanged e-mail addresses with the female half of the couple and then my trip was over.
Oh, I forgot to mention that the hotel bellhop (in his street clothes) escorted me to the train station last night as my train did not depart until 11 p.m. I noticed that no one, no one at all, bothered me during the walk. Not a glance, not a stare, not a request (or mobbing) for pictures, not a shove. Nothing. It was a relief and only reaffirmed that I was right in my decision to leave.
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