Helsinki, part III - Kamppi and Tyynenmerenkatu

I walked, VERY slowly, in the general direction of the West Terminal, getting lost a few times within the rather confusing labyrinthine concrete roads of Kamppi. It's hard to keep all your bearings sometimes when every street more or less looks the same, and leads into identical squares. It was lunchtime by then, so I found a gigantic supermarket in Kamppi, bought myself some extremely economical ham and cheese slices (YUM!) that amounted to about 3 euros. I found myself a bench in one of the identical squares, and munched through my ham and cheese. When I'd nearly finished, a couple came towards me, asking me for money. I told them I had none but they persisted. I managed to shake them off, but decided that I was vulnerable, so gulped down my last slice of ham and headed off sharpish.

I got lost somewhere close to Pursimiehenkatu, but saw a tram heading in straight to West Terminal, so decided to follow that. It was all worth getting lost, though, when I turned a corner, and saw the sparkling blue waters of the port.

I figured that the West Terminal was just around here, and walked down Tyynenmerenkatu jubilantly. What I hadn't reckoned on was how long it was. It went on, and on, and on, and at several points I seriously wondered if I was really on the right trail. I found another supermarket, and went in to get some more sparkling water, and asked the cashier where the West Terminal was. Just keep walking down, he said. Righty then.

I found the Terminal and checked in to the St Peter's counter. I have to admit that I wondered a bit whether the ticket that I'd bought via Ksenia was valid or not, and I heaved not a small sigh of relief when the ticket officer confirmed my booking and printed off my tickets. I still had about 4 hours to go before the ship was scheduled to leave, so I went back, and spent most of the remaining afternoon dangling my legs over the Baltic sea water and walking up and down Tyynenmerenkatu.

Helsinki, part II - Helsingin tuomiokirkko Suurkirkko

After I'd finished wandering around the Market Square, I decided to slowly make my way to the West Terminal, and stop to look at the few landmarks I'd noted to stop by. The first one I went to was arguably Helsinki's most distinctive landmark, Helsinki Cathedral, or Helsingin tuomiokirkko, Suurkirkko.

Like many other Baltic cities, Helsinki was very easy to navigate by foot. It was dry and chilly and there weren't very many people out and about. I think I've gotten used to the hustle and bustle of London, or Taipei, and it always comes as a bit of a surprise, albeit not unpleasant, when I encounter a capital city that's somewhat deserted.

I can't really say that I felt very strongly about Helsinki. It was a pleasant city to be in, especially for someone who enjoys walking in temperate climates such as myself, but it seemed a bit bland. Maybe I just haven't spent enough time there to judge, but unfortunately I don't think it will be too high on my list of 'cities to return to.'

More to come.

Helsinki, part I - Olympiaterminalen

I woke up at 8, which was fairly early, or so I thought, but what I'd neglected to bear in mind was that Helsinki was one hour ahead of Stockholm, with the result that when I rose and went down lazily, I found chaos - namely, all the passengers with their luggage, queued up and ready to disembark. I jumped a bit and found an officer and asked how long I could stay on the ship for. He said I was allowed to stay till 3pm, which was much better, but that I had to vacate my cabin by 10am, so I went back to my cabin, collected my few belongings and strolled onto the sundeck. I Facetimed my family and stood there at length, enjoying the cold (Finnish!) breeze. I was inordinately excited; I'd never been to Finland before and genuinely had no idea what it would be like One jaded traveller referred to Helsinki as a 'an overpriced concrete jungle that cost twice as much as Tallinn.' In retrospect, after having visited both cities - I can safely say that there's a bit too much of a difference in both cities to compare. I never really got to explore Helsinki very thoroughly, or even stay there for a full day at a time, whereas Tallinn I stayed for 4 days and 3 nights and, sorry to say it, by the second day I was bored stiff and longed to leave. During this trip there were a few instances in which I rued the fact that I had a rigid itinerary to adhere to, and that I should have decided to just go along with the flow, as it were, and Tallinn was one of those instances. Helsinki on the other hand had a diffident charm. It was a very idyllic place to be, another of those Baltic sea port cities which had a remarkable air of self assurance, neverending speedwell-blue skies and calm turquoise seas, and leggy blonde joggers slaloming along the promenades.

Of course, I'd downloaded an offline Google map of Helsinki to help me navigate my way from Olympiaterminalen to West Terminal Länsiterminaali, where the Russian ferries were. I had about half a day to saunter through Katajanokka, so that is exactly what I did. More to come later.

I was the last passenger on the ship by this point and it was both cathartic and a bit unerving

Yeah just me

View of Olympiaterminalen port from the ship

One last view of dear Silja

I didn't know Silja even had a shuttle of its own, but stands to reason that they would

Silja, part II

This is the third year of my blog. It's mind boggling how time just goes by, like that. That's all I'm going to say on the subject though, because lots more people have had more to say about the passage of time, in far more eloquent words and phrases than I'll ever be capable of coming up with, so there's that.

These are some more pictures of Silja. I see that the last time I wrote about my travels I'd just arrived in the ME, more or less. Different times, and I was a different person back then, wasn't I?

I'm not exaggerating when I say that this day, and this particular part of my trip, was one of the happiest I've ever been in my life. For almost as long as I can remember, I've always felt displaced somehow, and could never really settle down to one place at a time. Ironic, then, that it was here of all places - a middle-class semi-luxury cruiser - that I'd feel truly at home, that this was a place I could make my abode for a while before moving on, once more.

I found my cabin - oh, yes! and threw my sole piece of luggage onto the comforter on the bed, and then flopped myself down and closed my eyes, and drank in the sensation of being alone and my own mistress. I lay there for about three minutes, then sat up and checked if there was any wifi here. Nope. I washed my hands, scrolled through my photos a bit, then took my diary and decided to head out and explore the ship. The first place I went to - always my first port of call whenever I'm on a ship, excuse the pun - was the sun deck.

It was already getting a bit chilly when I went up, and I shivered a bit and went back and put on a sweater before coming back up. Most of the passengers, I noticed, were either middle-aged Scandinavian couples, or couples in their thirties with their young children. None of them, I noticed, were like me - a solitary Asian girl in their mid twenties. I remember getting some curious stares, but no matter. It comes with the territory, of travelling alone.

After I'd had enough of the increasingly chilly sun deck, and watched the port pull away from the ship (or vice versa), I went downstairs to look at the promenade, which I've described in some detail in an earlier entry. I did a lot of looking, imagined to myself what these luscious liquors might taste like, then went to a cubby-hole place with a wide sill, sat myself down and stretched out my legs, and did some diary-writing. Standard fare as always, but it is odd how I remember that experience so damn fondly. I sat there and wrote, and thought, and wrote some more, then I put my pen down and watched the waters ripple by as the sun sank farther into the west and the skies grew darker, until I didn't have enough light to write properly.

I went back downstairs to the promenade and wandered amongst the duty free restaurants and debated whether I should spend 15 euros on Swedish meatballs or not, but eventually decided against it. I walked to the far end, where there was a bar, and noticed to my delight that White Russians were going for 5 euros, which I ordered without any further ado. I found myself a table and sat myself down, and got out my diary once again, because it's become my go-to activity, especially on cruisers.

One of the most notable things I remember feeling that night is that I realised halfway through my White Russian that the alcohol was making me too happy, so I stopped drinking it.

I turned in fairly early that night, but not before taking a nice long piping hot shower. I kept the door open so that I could hear the music I was blasting out, and thought that if there was a heaven, then this was what it looked, and felt like: cold weather and cold air, a cabin to myself and no one else around, and a good hot shower.