Just got back from Helsinki. Fred and I took a nice little Viking Line cruise over. Two nights onboard and one day in Helsinki. It was… interesting and of course, its FREE
Quite the adventure really. The trip over was relatively uneventful. Thursday night, lots of drunk people, gambling, just general rabblerousing if you will. A few important observations as we made our way across the Baltic from Stockholm.
The mullet is still in style in Finland. Also known as hockey-hair. Why you ask? There is nothing I can say that will give an acceptable explanation. Aside from the fact that it brings a smile to my face every time I see one.
Being drunk at 3 in the afternoon is not a problem. Here, after hours spent internally debating the moral and social acceptance of this I have decided that Oldman pub rules apply to cruise ships. And that in Oldman pub, drinking is heavily encouraged at 3 in the afternoon and so is perfectly acceptable.
Fat people do exist in the Nordic countries. They apparently travel between Finland and Sweden.
When we finally made it to Finland, I had managed to be completely overrun by a lovely head cold. One that dammed me up, dried me out, and made me float. And then we stepped off the boat. Into March in Helsinki, Finland. And it was cold. And windy. And bitter. And we had seven hours in town so damn it we were going to see the sights. We did alright, saw some churches, a temple built into the rocks, saw the 1952 Olympic venue, and walked the streets of Helsinki. It seemed like a city that was old. Almost downtrodden. A city that still relied on its peasant roots. As I said though, I was there for seven hours and had a head cold. Life wasn’t all that good.
It was gray, and dreary. And the mullets were not confined to the boat. And public drunkenness at all hours of a Saturday was quite common. But I enjoyed my time there. Despite the circumstances. Seven hours isn’t a lot of time in one place, so we did what any self-respecting tourist who wants to sample the local culture would do.
We sampled the local fast food joint. Hessburger I believe it was called. The picture was so foul, I almost went somewhere else. But Fred convinced me that this was a cultural experience. And so I stuck it out. I ordered a hamburger with an onion ring and enough mayonnaise to make Costco proud. And it was gross. But it was cultural.
By the way, Helsinki is cheaper then Stockholm.
While trekking back to the boat we stopped at a kioski. Yup, I learned some Finnish while abroad. I politely, in Swedish, asked if I could buy a stamp. She said yes, I then continued, in Swedish, to ask for one for abroad. At this point the woman told me, in German, that she did not speak German. Flustered. Confused. Even a little scared. I switched to English, bought my stamp, and left. I still don’t know what happened exactly.
On the way back I learned the difference between Swedes and the Finns working aboard Viking Line. We had decided to forego the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches we had been eating on the boat because we are thrifty (read cheap). So we plopped ourselves at one of the fine dining establishments on board. I ordered a chicken soup and some ribs. Fred had a salad. Very lady-like. I on the other hand gorged myself.
The soup was glorious. The ribs. Decent. But it was a lot. So I very carefully separated the ribs from the bones and the soggy fries from the non-soggy and asked the waitress for a box. Her response? Vaaaa? Whaaaat? I explained that I would like a box to take my food back with me. There was a lot left. She then asked me incredulously if I wanted all of this. I, being a silly Asian, said yes. I watched her walk away. I watched her actually have to ask where the take away boxes were kept. And I watched her dump my entire plate into the box.
I, of course, was curious as to what had happened. So when she returned with my box, I opened it. Yup, the whole plate was in there. Bones and all. Silly Finnish lady. No wonder she looked at me like an idiot. She thought I was going to go back and suck on some bones apparently. I didn’t. But the remaining ribs made for a delicious breakfast.
After dinner we found ourselves in a storm. And I have a new respect for the Baltic Sea. We were in a huge cruise boat. And were tossed around like my old rubber ducky in the bath. Tossed so much that we were two hours late coming into Stockholm. It was intense. Luckily, we would have had to sink for me to wake up. Which we didn’t. So I slept right through it. Fred did not. But we made it. No worse for the wear. And with yet another world capital notched onto our well travelled belts.
Our good friend is a Finn living in Stockholm and can probably explain the nuances of Finnish culture much better than I can. So stop by and throw him a question. Perhaps you’re also curious as to the Finnish love for mayonnaise on hamburgers.
Kiitos and hei sitten.
Quite the adventure really. The trip over was relatively uneventful. Thursday night, lots of drunk people, gambling, just general rabblerousing if you will. A few important observations as we made our way across the Baltic from Stockholm.
The mullet is still in style in Finland. Also known as hockey-hair. Why you ask? There is nothing I can say that will give an acceptable explanation. Aside from the fact that it brings a smile to my face every time I see one.
Being drunk at 3 in the afternoon is not a problem. Here, after hours spent internally debating the moral and social acceptance of this I have decided that Oldman pub rules apply to cruise ships. And that in Oldman pub, drinking is heavily encouraged at 3 in the afternoon and so is perfectly acceptable.
Fat people do exist in the Nordic countries. They apparently travel between Finland and Sweden.
When we finally made it to Finland, I had managed to be completely overrun by a lovely head cold. One that dammed me up, dried me out, and made me float. And then we stepped off the boat. Into March in Helsinki, Finland. And it was cold. And windy. And bitter. And we had seven hours in town so damn it we were going to see the sights. We did alright, saw some churches, a temple built into the rocks, saw the 1952 Olympic venue, and walked the streets of Helsinki. It seemed like a city that was old. Almost downtrodden. A city that still relied on its peasant roots. As I said though, I was there for seven hours and had a head cold. Life wasn’t all that good.
It was gray, and dreary. And the mullets were not confined to the boat. And public drunkenness at all hours of a Saturday was quite common. But I enjoyed my time there. Despite the circumstances. Seven hours isn’t a lot of time in one place, so we did what any self-respecting tourist who wants to sample the local culture would do.
We sampled the local fast food joint. Hessburger I believe it was called. The picture was so foul, I almost went somewhere else. But Fred convinced me that this was a cultural experience. And so I stuck it out. I ordered a hamburger with an onion ring and enough mayonnaise to make Costco proud. And it was gross. But it was cultural.
By the way, Helsinki is cheaper then Stockholm.
While trekking back to the boat we stopped at a kioski. Yup, I learned some Finnish while abroad. I politely, in Swedish, asked if I could buy a stamp. She said yes, I then continued, in Swedish, to ask for one for abroad. At this point the woman told me, in German, that she did not speak German. Flustered. Confused. Even a little scared. I switched to English, bought my stamp, and left. I still don’t know what happened exactly.
On the way back I learned the difference between Swedes and the Finns working aboard Viking Line. We had decided to forego the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches we had been eating on the boat because we are thrifty (read cheap). So we plopped ourselves at one of the fine dining establishments on board. I ordered a chicken soup and some ribs. Fred had a salad. Very lady-like. I on the other hand gorged myself.
The soup was glorious. The ribs. Decent. But it was a lot. So I very carefully separated the ribs from the bones and the soggy fries from the non-soggy and asked the waitress for a box. Her response? Vaaaa? Whaaaat? I explained that I would like a box to take my food back with me. There was a lot left. She then asked me incredulously if I wanted all of this. I, being a silly Asian, said yes. I watched her walk away. I watched her actually have to ask where the take away boxes were kept. And I watched her dump my entire plate into the box.
I, of course, was curious as to what had happened. So when she returned with my box, I opened it. Yup, the whole plate was in there. Bones and all. Silly Finnish lady. No wonder she looked at me like an idiot. She thought I was going to go back and suck on some bones apparently. I didn’t. But the remaining ribs made for a delicious breakfast.
After dinner we found ourselves in a storm. And I have a new respect for the Baltic Sea. We were in a huge cruise boat. And were tossed around like my old rubber ducky in the bath. Tossed so much that we were two hours late coming into Stockholm. It was intense. Luckily, we would have had to sink for me to wake up. Which we didn’t. So I slept right through it. Fred did not. But we made it. No worse for the wear. And with yet another world capital notched onto our well travelled belts.
Our good friend is a Finn living in Stockholm and can probably explain the nuances of Finnish culture much better than I can. So stop by and throw him a question. Perhaps you’re also curious as to the Finnish love for mayonnaise on hamburgers.
Kiitos and hei sitten.
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