I was wide awake at just after 0400hrs and unable to get back to sleep, not for want of trying. I tried taking measured breaths and closing my eyes, but I wasn't sleepy enough. It wasn't like the old days, when waking up in the middle of the night was the ultimate pleasure because I would feel luxuriously sleepy and ready to fall straight back to sleep. Back in the day I looked forward to a broken night, sometimes I used to set my alarm too early just so I could reset it and fall back to sleep just so I could experience the joy of lying there thinking pleasant thoughts. Somewhere along the line things changed, those thoughts became fretful and now, if I'm awake, I'm awake and it'll take a while to get back to sleep. Sometimes I fail and I simply get up and go downstairs.
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| Healthy breakfast at Gatwick's South Terminal |
Just before 0500hrs I jumped out of bed and switched off all the alarms that I had thought would be necessary to wake me up, but, as I suspected, I didn't need them. After making myself fruit, porridge and toast I put the finishing touches to packing my bag and then waited for the taxi to arrive. When it did I noticed Gupta was at the wheel. He's a bit of racist, but believe it or not he's alright, he's simply one of those people that likes to moan about virtually everything and, of course, now he can no longer moan about the European Union because we're out. Although he still moans about immigration, one of his chief bugbears, but let's not forget his son's messy divorce and his various health ailments. But deep down, this ex-services cab driver is alright and despite previous posts, in which I probably paint a bleaker picture, I quite like him.
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| At Helsinki, still in the plane, looks drizzly |
He arrived on the dot at 0600hrs to take me to Gatwick airport and an early flight to Helsinki in Finland. I have never been to Finland before so I'm looking forward to the trip.
On the way to the terminal building after Gupta had dropped me off, I met a woman who lives in Pimlico, London, somewhere close to Lupus Street. She hailed originally from the West of Ireland and was on her way to Dublin to watch her own racehorse compete in a race, although she wasn't 100% sure that the horse would run, but was going anyway. She was flying Ryanair on the basis that they're cheap. I was flying Norwegian. In fact I refuse point blank to fly with Ryanair: I never have and I never will and it's all down to to the fact that I distrust them and the guy who heads up the budget airline.
Once I'd checked in I milled around for a while, spraying myself with expensive aftershave. It's the only time I smell nice. I bought a few things and then went in search of something to eat, nothing special. I visited the Wonder Tree restaurant where I ordered and enjoyed a mint tea, a slice of toast and something called a Berry Yoghurt Bowl (£11.45). My flight appeared on the destinations board at 0800hrs and was due to depart from gate 18 so I paid up and went in search of the gate.
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| On the bus waiting for the stragglers... |
I am on flight D8 2952 and sitting in seat 12a, a much-appreciated window seat, affording me excellent views of tiny cotton wool clouds some distance below me. It's fairly clear outside (now that we've cleared the cloud hanging over Gatwick) and even at 39,000 feet I can still see land and sea, roads and rivers below me.
The flight isn't full. Who else would be so foolish to fly on a Sunday morning? I have an entire row to myself and that means I can spread out a little bit.
I had been under the impression that the flying time to Helsinki was roughly three hours, but no, it's two hours and 25 minutes, which is a relief, although I must admit that I'm nice and relaxed and enjoying every minute.
I've brought a 500ml bottle of Pellegrino on board, but I swear I heard them say that passengers must buy everything from the airline so I've not opened it - until now - as I think the service is over, but they will probably admonish me for my insolence.
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| Toasted cheese and ham and mint tea at Moi Bar, Helsinki |
Last night I was on top of the world chilling out at home watching (on Netflix)
The Great Escape, but conscious that I needed to be up at 0500hrs I stopped the movie after David McCallum had exited through the tunnel and will have to watch the rest on my return.
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| My room at Scandic Simonkentta, Helsinki |
Down below I can see land, mainly a mix of large and small (some very small) islands. Miraculously the sea is blue and off in the distance there is a hazy smattering of thin cloud. This is what pilots call 'excellent flying weather' or 'conditions' and I love it when I know things are going to be relatively smooth and free from too much turbulence.
There's probably about an hour left to run on this flight and outside the land has given way to the sea, so there's little to see. In addition to being a window seat, 12a is also an engine seat.
I'm taking sneaky swigs from my bottle of Pellegrino because right now I'm really into Pellegrino sparkling mineral water. All week at work I've been downing a one litre bottle just after lunch having purchased it for £1.50 from the Co-op. It's something I haven't done for a long time, but there's nothing better and now that I'm not drinking alcohol (it's been just over two years and two months and I'm getting boring about it) I've decided to drink more Pellegrino, mainly because non-alcohol beers are piss poor and I can't be bothered to pretend anymore. In the same way that Sir Bobby Charlton and Arthur Scargill should have swept their comb-overs aside and announced, fuck it, I'm bald! Well, metaphorically I'm doing the same. It's a bit like my vegetarian sausages theory which I will now explain.
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| The view from my hotel window... |
Okay, if you're a vegetarian why bother eating vegetarian sausages? Why would you want to eat something that resembles the very thing you've decided not to eat anymore? In the same way, why should (or why would) somebody who has given up drinking want to be drinking something that looks exactly like what he or she has given up? No-alcohol beer will never taste the same as real beer so why drink it? It's horrible and simple serves to remind you of what you are missing by not drinking. Not that I'm missing alcohol, not one bit as it happens. There are people who drink no-alcohol beer to hide the fact that they are not drinking, which is fine for a while, but once you become comfortable with being a non-drinker and don't care what others think about your decision, that's when it's good to start on the Pellegrino. Perhaps a no-alcohol beer with a curry, but that's about it.
It's 1105hrs (UK time) and I reckon there's around 30-40 minutes left to go. Outside there is no sign of land, just wispy clouds below me and the sea. I think I might read a bit more of Michel Houellebecq's
Serotonin. There's 25 minutes to go according to the captain and we will shortly be starting our descent into Helsinki where it's 5 degrees, cloudy and rainy. Ugh! Just like England. As we descended through layered cloud I saw nothing that resembled land until we had virtually hit the tarmac. The landing was perfect, so smooth and soon the plane parked up to await a few buses that were being sent to ferry us back to the terminal building. We were all waiting inside the plane, some people were standing in the aisles, but I chose to simply sit there and wait it out. Soon, I was up and out of the plane, on the staircase leading down to the tarmac and the waiting buses. There was rock salt on the stairs, a clear sign that things get pretty icy here in Finland.
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| Where doors open outwards... |
In fact, I was told that the current weather in Helsinki was out of character with the time of year. There should have been at least a foot of snow on the ground, but apparently the Finnish capital is experiencing the warmest of temperatures for January 'since records began'. It was good in a sense because it meant that I wouldn't be slipping and sliding all over the place and possibly even falling 'arse over tit' in the process.
After clearing passport control I followed signs to arrivals and found myself wandering through lairy displays of alcohol, cigarettes, fragrances and watches, not forgetting fur coats and anything else you might care to throw in. Talk about the
Society of the Spectacle, it's obscene. And rather than stop and buy anything I simply used the testers to make myself smell good again, based on the assumption that the
Allure I'd sprayed on my face at Gatwick had worn off.
I found myself in Moi Bar opposite Starbucks where I ordered a cheese and ham toastie and a mint tea. It was fantastic and there was a real risk that I'll eat another one so took a wander.
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| To brighten up winter streets in Helsinki they keep the festive spirit alive |
I made my way to the Hilton hotel just outside the airport where a car drove me into the centre of town and a lovely hotel where I am staying now. It's very pleasant and I'm looking forward to breakfast. The room is good, there's a minibar, a television, a decent bathroom and a desk. Add in WiFi and you could say I'm as happy as Larry.
