16-17 March 2014: Finland

Turku, Finland Proper, Finland/Helsinki, Uusimaa, Finland

H: 0/-1  L: -9/-14 Weather: Light Snow, Turning Clear/Scattered Clouds

I took the opportunity on Sunday morning to sleep in.  Like, a lot.  I've found that nothing eases the transition to a vastly different time zone like sleeping way too much on the day after you've made the time zone switch.  For me, sleeping in "a lot" meant 10:30am, but that was about 11 hours of sleep.  It felt really, really good.  Since then, I haven't really had any issues with jet leg!  Apparently forcing myself to stay up during the whole of the ferry ride to Finland helped.

We headed towards the Turku port, where I had just arrived the day before, to check out the castle.  Turku is one of the oldest cities in Finland, so it has no shortage of relatively old things.  Interestingly, most of them were Swedish,  Finland started its life as a united entity as basically a colony of Sweden, with Turku being eventually made its capital.  As such, Turku has some of the longest-lasting institutions in the country: the oldest newspaper and the oldest theatre, for example.  Both of those are in Swedish.

Turku's castle was built in two stages: the first in the Middle Ages (c. 1300s), the second in the Renaissance (c. 1600s).  The entire castle complex largely fell into disrepair in the 1900s before a successful renovation brought it back.  But the renovation lent an odd air to the castle.  Although there definitely were old things here and there, they were often overlain with modern touches: fire alarms, electric lights, wood platforms to walk on, and so on.  It felt somewhat like the owner of the castle was doing some renovations but was letting some lucky groups of visitors shuffle through.

Still, there were some cool artifacts that were preserved from earlier times in Turku, particularly wooden carvings of saints that had all had their hands chopped off or fall off - I couldn't quite tell which.  It was interesting to imagine how long the carvings had been intact and who had originally worked on them.

A tour of the castle took a couple of hours, so afterwards we decided to get lunch.  We were turned away from no less than two restaurants before we found somewhere with an open table, despite the fact that it was 3:30pm on a Sunday, much to our surprise.  Our next stop was the city's church... again, pretty much one of the oldest churches in Finland, originally Swedish, and somehow the National Shrine of Finland, whatever that means.  Like most Lutheran places, Finland went on an anti-Catholic spree around the time of the reformation, and took out all of the pretty carvings and shiny things from the church.  However, the building was still massive and powerful on the inside.  The Lutheran simplicity of the thing was almost a bit reassuring. As with most European churches, dead folks were buried all around the worship space.  While we were there, a couple of singers were warming up for some sort of performance (perhaps in a service), which lent the space a beautiful light.

Afterwards, we adjourned to the library, where we tried unsuccessfully to find American travel guides.  (I wanted to see what they had to say about Detroit.)  I floated the idea of grabbing a drink and loitering around until dinner... there was a Viking restaurant that I was desperate to try, because, lol, Viking restaurant.  But instead we just headed back to Essi's place and took a bit of a rest.  By the time we became less dormant, it was already something like 8:30pm.  Unfortunately, Finland, like much of Europe, basically shuts down at 8:00pm on Sunday evenings.  No, I can't quite explain it either.  But we were desperately short on dining options.  Our one savior: Rokbar.

Finland is known for its heavy metal scene.  I can't quite explain it either.  But Finland has one of the largest numbers of heavy metal groups in the world, and Finnish heavy metal artists have apparently been reputed far and wide for their prowess.  One Finnish heavy metal band shocked the world when it won the staid Eurovision contest (also known as the Europe-wide music contest that introduced the world to ABBA, Céline Dion, and Julio Iglesias) with its spirited heavy metal antics.  Apparently, this has led to a culture-wide phenomenon, such that there are now heavy metal-themed restaurants and bars.  Rokbar is one of them.  Thus, my second evening in Finland was spent nomming on a pork-and-mushroom sandwich and drinking a delicious Finnish lager at the only heavy metal-themed bar in Turku.  It was delicious and completely unthreatening.  We returned back to her apartment quite tired, but we still rallied to make a YouTube video for some friends before getting to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up with some time to spare before the bus, but unfortunately Essi wasn't so lucky.  So, on my own, I negotiated a bus to the middle of the city, a short walk to the bus station, and then figuring out how to get on the long-distance bus that I had reserved.  I could tell that, for a couple of the bus station employees, I was taxing their usable English, but because my Finnish vocabulary consisted of "Hello!" ("Moi!") and "Thank you!" ("Kiitos!"), we didn't really have any other options.  Eventually I made it on the bus.  Which was gorgeous and convenient and even had a screen with the current destination, time-to-destination, next stop, and everything else you could ever want.  It was nice.  The scenery made me realize how appropriate it was that many Yoopers are Finns.

In Helsinki, I had time to visit a church—built into a rocky hillside—and to have lunch at a Australian-owned bar (that featured delicious salmon pasta, nom nom nom!), before it was time to head for the harbor.  Helsinki is a more Russian city than it is a Swedish one, so it was interesting to find Cyrillic writing when out and about.  Eventually, I boarded my boat (after accidentally trying to plug in my details into the reservation system for a rival ship company... oops).  This ship was... er... a bit less classy than the one I took from Stockholm to Turku.  There was basically no where to sit except in a bar, so I planted myself in a bar that ended up featuring a rather repetitive band playing songs that sounded like they were from some Old Country.  Also crappy internet.  I was less than amused.  But I was making it to Tallinn!

14-15 March 2014: Europe 2, Transportation Boogaloo

Washington, District of Columbia/Newark, New Jersey, USA/Stockholm, Uppland, Sweden/Turku, Finland Proper(!), Finland

H: 15/9/4/3 L: -2/-6/4/0 Weather: Overcast/Mostly Cloudy/Light Snow/Clear

Yes, friends, it's time for another European adventure.  I feel like you all must have heard this story at one point, but, here goes: once upon a time there was a Facebook News Feed, and upon that Facebook News Feed one Jonathan Andrew posted a link to an entirely accidental sale by a regional Norwegian air carrier.  Lo, and much flailing was had, and much wailing and gnashing of teeth about the failure to take the $399 Turkish Air deal to İstanbul was recounted (actually, I found that deal independently of the Flight Deal, but I knew it would have shown up there at the time!), and it was resolved to definitely for sure take advantage of probably the cheapest flights I will ever see to Europe again in my lifetime.

And so I posted on Facebook requesting compatriots to join my in my travels, after someone who shall go nameless claimed that he "was already going to spring training in Florida".  The marvelous David Bogojevich had meanwhile posted the same deal to his Facebook Wall, stating his desire to go to Scandinavia.  I said I just wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, gosh darn it.  We agreed to travel together to Stockholm.  I accidentally got a return ticket for a Monday rather than a Sunday, but whatever.  Hurry, hurry, hurry, some previously unknown part of my brain shouted at me.  And so I bought tickets.  But disaster struck: though I had a receipt, and was ticketed on United the next day, my dear David was not so lucky, and his purchase never went through.

So, yeah.  That's why I'm going on a Baltic Sea tour for my spring break, rather than seeking warmer climes... say, Spain, or Italy.  My itinerary is as follows:

14-15 Mar: Traveling (via Newark and Stockholm) to Finland
15-17 Mar: Finland
17-19 Mar: Estonia (nothing says St. Patrick's Day like Estonia)
19-21 Mar: Denmark
21-24 Mar: Sweden

It's definitely fast-paced and exciting, but that's just how I like things!

The morning of the 14th started off way too early, at 5, which is not a time that most humans should often see.  I propoelled myself out of bed through sheer force of will, ate the last of my strawberries, drank the last of my milk, and set off for the College Park Metro station.  The day started with an ill omen.  Just as I get to the top of the escalator, sure enough, I hear "doors closing" and I get to watch the perfectly-timed "rush" Yellow Line train head for the airport and other places in NoVa without me.

Timing was a big worry during the day.  Not the timing of the Metro—the Yellow and Green lines share vast sections of track, and indeed I only had to wait a minute to transfer.  I wasn't worried about the transfer between planes—due to the parameters of the tickets I bought, I would have 8 hours to make my flight to Sweden.  I was using those 8 hours to visit my good friend and former labmate Prashanth Rajarajan.  No, the problem was in Stockholm.

Some time in the not too distant past, the Swedish government decided that the whole business of regulation was passé.  An unusual sentiment to Swedes, to be sure.  So, in their infinite wisdom, they decided to abolish (almost) all regulations on taxis.  In one fell swoop, Sweden, of all places, became one of the most unregulated taxis systems in the developed world.

What does this have to do with anything?  In my itinerary, I had taken a gamble.  I only had 75 minutes to get from my plane to my ferry to Finland.  Factor in customers, and at least 20 minutes for a trainjust to get to Stockholm, and I was already worried.  When I discovered on the 13th that that the ferry port was in fact nowhere near the railway station, and I'd probably have to take a taxi, I was upset; I absolutely despite taxis.  (Something about the financial transaction and the having to explain a destination in an unfamiliar land.)  When I discovered the Swedish system is what it is, and that I'd have to hunt and pick for the "right" taxi (certain brands with certain "unit prices", listed on their back windows), well... I was not a happy camper.

So, as I saw the Yellow Line train pull away, I hoped that I was not getting a premonition of the ferry doing the same.  But thing started looking up pretty quickly.  Just as boarding began for my flight to Newark, I got an email from Couchsurfing; the amazing, talented Minnesotan(!) living with her husband in Copenhagen accepted my request to crash on her couch.  My plane was 30 minutes early to Newark.  As I bought my tickets to and from the airport (oh, I can get both directions simultaneously?  how convenient!), an NJ Transit train showed up immediately.  The conductor used an adorable hole punch to punch an adorable hole in some sort of mysterious slip of paper that was slipped in front of my seat.

Lunch with Prashanth was absolutely delightful.  I could practically feel his excitement for his work and his future oozing out of him.  We talk about science, our programs, our friends, and swapped gossip and stories.  I can't wait to see him again (come visit me, PRaj!).  As we went our separate ways, and I entered Penn Station to return to the airport, I assumed that my luck and struck again: I heard that a train headed to Newark Airport was leaving posthaste for Track 4.  I made my way down there.  It was an Amtrak train, but it was taking basically the same route as the NJ Transit ticket that the NJ Transit folks had been so kind to provide me with earlier, so it was basically the same, right?  People around me grabbed hold of some paper printouts not at all resembling my ticket, but they had just bought tickets a different way, right?  I nervously looked it up, and the route I was on was listed as a recommended route for getting to the airport by NJ Transit.  Great.  So I was good, right?

Right?

I broke into a sweat when the conductor announced he was checking train tickets.  I was reminded of when I was churchshopping and had to stare every time to make sure how this next church decided to do communion; I eagerly scanned to try to see what everyone else was doing.  I didn't see a cute little hole puncher.  I saw none of my tickets, in fact.  I started shaking a bit.  I was in the second compartment.  He entered mine and got within 5 seats of me.  4.  3.  And then... he briskly walked away.  I froze.  He did not reappear.  We got to Newark station.  He did not reappear.  We pulled out of Newark station.  He finally showed up again.  But the victory was mine.  The next station was the one for the airport.

So when he got to me, and confirmed my worst fears—though I had bought an identically priced ticket, it was not the right one, and I was in fact doing a Very Bad Thing (tm) by having boarded the Amtrak train—he basically just shrugged and told me to get to the end of the train to make sure I actually left at the Newark Airport Station like I said I was going to do.  I had to take a Walk of Shame to make sure I did so, but I considered that a small price to pay.

The screening process at Newark was uneventful.  But, as I got to teh front of the line to get on the plane, my ticket caused the scanner to beep unpleasantly.  I frowned.  "Oh," said the gate agent, "You have a new seat.  There was a baby on board that meant that someone needed to be reseated.  11A is your new seat.  It's also a window."  At least it's also a window, I thought.  But, as I discovered, it wasn't just "also a window"; it was also an Economy Plus seat, the sort of seat that they give you a formerly-normal-coach amount of legroom in.  Sweeeet!  It had a defective screen at first (also, did you know that United's inflight entertainment runs on Linux?  I learned this from the errors!), but that somehow magically repaired itself after Peter texted me to get a flight attendant on the case.  As we took off, the captain informed us that our flight time was going to be a full hour early into Stockholm, so maybe those taxis would be no problem.  Maybe the Metro wasn't a premonition at all, I thought, as I watched Frozen and Who's Line Is It Anyway, and then drifted into a fitful couple hours of sleep.

We did get in an hour early, which meant that I had time for such luxuries as "going to the bathroom" before I headed on the train.  The train was gorgeous and new.  And the ticket person immediately assumed I was Swedish, greeting me with a cheery "Hey, hey!" (actually "hej", but it's pronounced identically and is adorable).  I've honestly been very curious about whether people would do that.  On my previous journey, nearly everyone assumed I was German (I remember this being particularly true in Frankfurt... which is entertainingly coincidental given that my actual German ancestors were actually from very near to Frankfurt).  However, all Americans constantly believe me to be Scandinavian (which is, in fact, false, according to my research).  I figured Scandinavians would be a good test case.  If they went by statistics alone, I should be Scandinavian.  But if my appearance strongly suggested that I was German, they should assume that.

Oh, and no one should assume I'm American, as no Americans ever travel internationally.  People seem to be pleasantly surprised when I say I'm American.  I know our own self-perception of us as international travelers is terrible, but in reality, although we're perceived to be uncultured and somewhat brash, we're also perceived to be exceedingly generous, outgoing, and cheerful.  We're the kind of people you'd like to get a drink with.  People are alarmed by our use of guns and the death penalty, but, well, if you're someone interested in traveling abroad, you're probably also alarmed by our use of guns and the death penalty, so that's nice.

I got to the central train station, and by this point was somewhat unsurprised to find that the ferry's official bus was pulling into the station about five minutes after I showed up to take people to the ferry.  I bought my ticket and got whisked off, then boarded the ferry, which is a nice, new, small little cruiseliner with free wireless internet.  Nifty!

There was not much to the ferry ride... it was longer than the plane ride, but there was WiFi, so that helped.  Also, lots of loud, bellowing groups of Swedes and Finns who were about the age of my parents but liked to take about four shots each at 1pm.  Also, there was a woman who looked like a witch.  She had a long, flowing black cloak, hair down to her knees and also sticking straight up a half a meter or so above her head.  I would've taken a picture if I hadn't known I'm completely incapable of being inconspicuous.  She was kind of terrifying.

Finally, I stepped out onto the ground in Turku, and my friend Essi came right over.  Apparently my smiling face was conspicuous amid the crowd of boisterous yet somehow still dour Nordic faces around me.  She and I boarded a bus for downtown Turku, and stopped at what she explained is Finland's answer to McDonald's.  We then had an entertaining exchange with a cashier wherein all were flummoxed (but me) that somehow my card does not have a chip in it (things that are found in every single card other than those issued in the US), and talked about the tragedy that is people who have a Harry Potter character who is someone other than Hermione (though Neville could pass by our estimation).  I'm now in her apartment, trying to slow down and get ready to obey my body's instructions: SLEEP.  SLEEP NOW.  Good night!