Helsinki

Ah, Helsinki. The land of double consonants peppered with a liberal application of vowels.

I had a little time today to explore Helsinki's city center, but I had to figure out how to get there first. I'm staying at the Airport Hotel Bonus Inn, which was the only place in the entire area that had any rooms available (well, there was another hotel I originally booked that sent me an e-mail asking if I wanted roses or champagne for my room; I realized quickly it was a honeymoon hotel hidden in the north woods somewhere and wasn't exactly the kind of hotel I was looking for).

Although the name sounds a little off, the Airport Hotel Bonus Inn is a very nice place to stay, although my internet access seems broken so I have to connect downstairs in the lobby near the fish tank (there are fish tanks all over the place it seems, even at Hesburger, the burger place down the block). Unfortunately, the Hotel Bonus Inn is far away from everything except the Jumbo mall, so to get to the Helsinki city center I decided to take the local bus #650, which has a stop outside right around the corner.

Four euros later, I was on my way, but I had to pay particular attention because all I had with me was my iPhone (data costs $10 a megabyte in Finland!) and a few pages of a "Helsinki Walking Tours" pdf that I found on the Interwebs last week. I wasn't sure when to get off the bus, but it soon became apparent when the bus stopped and everyone suddenly rushed off, leaving me alone in my seat. I figured this was as good a place as any, so I hopped off and found myself staring at a green statue of, I suppose, a person of importance posed in front of an impressive-looking building. I was tempted to look it up on my phone but I feared the expense. So I picked a direction and walked around instead. 

I'm not sure what mystical powers I have when I'm in strange cities, but whatever it is it attracts people to me when they need directions. This morning was no different. A Frenchman with four kids in tow came up to me as I walked along the Esplanadi on my way to no place in particular. He asked me if he needed to pay to park his car on the street, and when I told him I didn't know he asked what I would do since I had an honest face. Yikes. That's some pressure! I told him to be safe and pay, even if it is Sunday. He waved happily and I kept on walking.

I did want to find a bank or important building, bend down to tie my shoe and then talking into my sleeve, just like a spy, just to see what would happen. It's Helsinki after all, and it still had, at least for me, the old Cold War spy mythos around it. I just don't think anyone would have taken me for anything but a knucklehead since I was in my Rocky Mountain National Park t-shirt. That's a very un-spy looking piece of attire.

I found a city tour bus near the harbor (well, near the massive cruise ships docked in the harbor, and I figured this would be the best place to find any kind of city tour; I would have preferred a bike tour, but it's still too chilly for that I suppose). There weren't very many of us on the tour, which was nice. 

Two highlights of the tour: the Sibelius monument (I was quite excited about this because, after Chuck Mangione and Tchaikovsky, the Sibelius' symphony No. 2 in D major was the third CD I ever bought) and the church in the rock - it's one of those obligatory touristy places that actually ended up being quite nifty. I would have liked to stick around for the violin concert held in the church that night, the acoustics being wonderful because of all the natural stone, but I had to get back to the bus and figure out how to get to the hotel. After all, I did have some work to do.

On my phone, I had made a bookmark of the bus stop's GPS location when it dropped me off, so I found the bus bench easily, and when the bus finally showed up (right on schedule according to the timetable on the wall), I proudly plunked my four euros on the tray next to the driver and started looking for a seat. But it wasn't as easy this time. The bus driver, a kind looking older man, started rattling off a long and incomprehensible string of Finnish, and all I could do was give him a blank look.

He must have been asking me where I was going, since it made sense that the amount you pay depends on the length of your trip. So I tried to explain I wanted to go to the Hotel Bonus Inn, but I was getting no where with my description. Then I thought, well, Finnish does love a good collection of duplicate vowels all pushed together, so I tried a new tactic. Instead of 'hotel bonus' I said, "Hotel Bone-ooh-sss." And I lingered on the long "o," stretching it out an uncomfortably long time.

"Hotel Bone-ooooh-ss!" the driver said, smiling widely. He nodded and slapped my on the shoulder. And then, for the rest of the trip, he made sure to shake his head in the mirror at me at ever stop, just to make sure I didn't get off at the wrong place. At the right stop, he turned around in his seat and gave me the thumbs up. I hopped off the bus and we waved goodbye to each other. 

And then, once back in my room, I crashed, jet lag hitting me upside the head as if someone had smacked me with a toaster. And now, after a dinner of "traditional Finnish potatoes," which I have discovered means "round boiled potatoes minus taste" I'm relaxing in the lobby near the fish while I write this.

It's close to 10:00 in the evening and the sun is just setting, ending a 17 hour day, and all around me are smiling, tall, and very blonde Finns, happy that summer is almost here. I wish I had more time to explore, but this trip is short, just like the night that is finally overcoming the city.