Helsinki to London

It was another one of those occasions when I arrived at the airport early, giving me the full two-hour airport experience. A colleague had dropped me off and now I found myself at the check-in area. Having checked myself in whilst on the night boat to Helsinki, I was annoyed to discover that there was still a lot of faffing about with technology. First I had to place my passport into a machine and then I had to print out the label that I would need to attach to my suitcase before sending it on its way to the aircraft. I was having to do all these jobs that used to be done by a human being. I often wonder what those human beings are doing now, perhaps they're unemployed.

Just one of the snacks I enjoyed, this in Brod & Salt, Stockholm 

Then, it was time for "security" and for some reason only one scanner was working, just one scanner. There was a huge queue, which I found annoying. Where were the people who could be operating the other scanners? Perhaps they were unemployed too, but hold on, this is Finland, it's a cool country (actually, it's freezing) but what I mean is, it's laid back and relaxed and things normally work so well. So I was amazed to discover English hassles in Finland, but soon it was over and I was left to my own devices for a whole two hours. I needed to find a decent restaurant in which to chill out. As you know from reading the previous post I chose Nordic Kitchen from where I ordered an open salmon sandwich, a couple of bars of Fazer chocolate (the small bars) and a green tea. I then sat there eating.The sandwich was excellent, the Fazer chocolate even better and the green tea nice and refreshing.

So men have tits and wear dresses do they Prada?

My flight was due to leave from Gate 46, which was a longish walk from where I was sitting, but there was plenty of time so I wasn't in any way stressed and I wasn't planning on using the automated walkways. But I wasn't as chilled out as I should have been. For some reason I was not relaxed enough to read my book, Eat, Sleep, Cycle by Anna Hughes, so instead I just sat there deep in thought about something mundane. I was, of course, on the last leg of my trip and was looking forward to the flight home to London, albeit a flight that was scheduled to take off after dark at 1935hrs, meaning I wouldn't be able to see a thing out of the window. I was sitting in seat 23a, which is odd as the gate coming out here was 23 so the number had cropped up more than once on the trip. I find myself getting superstitious when I fly. I start by adding up all the numbers on my boarding pass, ie the flight number and so forth, and I hope and pray they never add up to 13. It's stupid, I know, but it makes me feel better about things. One of these days, of course, the numbers won't go in my favour and I'll be faced with a dilemma: change my flight or go with what I've got. I know, it's really stupid.

Twisting corridor, Birger Jarl hotel, Stockholm

Technology is the most annoying thing. I decided to transfer my boarding pass to the 'wallet' app on my iphone and then the battery ran out so I had to approach the person on the gate and ask for a printed boarding pass. What I hate more than anything is a "full flight" and this was one of them, every seat taken and everybody with hand luggage that really should have been stowed in the hold. I think the thing I hate most about flying is the other passengers. There was one woman with a suitcase, a laptop AND a large bag but nobody thought to stop her from boarding with all three. Most of the other passengers were the same and this caused a lot of hassle. All the overhead lockers were jammed with bags and rucksacks and the cabin crew were left to make it work, which it did in the end.

Ready for minus 14 Helsinki.

All flights are late to take off and this one must have been around 30 minutes later than scheduled. We roared down the runway and up into the skies and most of the flight was fine, but loads of problems started to arise for me once we'd left the ground, not major problems, just hassles. Earlier, when I disembarked from the boat, I'd foolishly left my adaptor and phone charger in the socket by the desk. This in itself was odd as once I had finished packing my suitcase I triple-checked everything to ensure that nothing had been left behind. I'd cleared security on the way out when I remembered and was fortunately allowed back on the ship to retrieve my stuff. My big mistake, which would affect things later on, was that I shoved my charger and adaptor into my suitcase, which I later checked in when I reached the airport. Sitting in Nordic Kitchen I noticed that I had 24% battery left so I switched off the phone to save power, but then I realised I'd need it to show my boarding pass at the gate. I went to switch on the phone and it simply wouldn't power up (remember, this is a fairly new iphone, it's about a year, possibly two years old and I certainly didn't expect it to start playing the tricks my other iphones have played, ie switching themselves off when the battery was low but not that low. Anyway, not only was I now unable to use my phone, I noticed that my watch was powering down too and will probably need a new battery. At the gate I managed to get the aforementioned printed boarding pass but I had no way of knowing what time it was and I couldn't charge my phone because the charger was in my suitcase which I'd checked in. Annoying how earlier actions, however small, come back to bite me when I least expect it.

Generally speaking the flight was fine, but all hell broke lose around an hour before landing in the UK, the plane being buffeted from side-to-side in the wind and rain. In the end I was used to it and it didn't bother me, but I was distracted enough not to read my book. Not having a watch that worked meant I had no idea how long there was to go before we landed. Normally when I fly I'm always looking at my watch and counting down the hours and the minutes until the pilot announces that the plane is about to descend into wherever I happen to be going, but this time I had no idea. There was a bald-headed man in front of me watching boxing on his iphone and I managed to spot the time, 2154hrs, meaning we'd been up for a couple of hours and had just under an hour to go. The severe weather, however, offered me no hints. I couldn't see for a start so I had to wait and let things unfold without me; I grinned and beared it all. Suddenly the captain made an announcement, but first he made it in Finnish and it seemed to take ages; then he spoke English and basically he was saying we would shortly begin our descent into London Heathrow. That normally means we're around 25 to 30 minutes away from landing. 

The plane slowly descended, rocking to and fro as it made its way towards terra firma. Eventually things calmed down. Then, the usual announcement that always baffles me. "Cabin crew, 10 minutes to landing" and it's normally at this point that I look out of the window and notice lights way way below me and I start thinking there's no way he's going to get all that way in just 10 minutes. Some times they do, other times, well, I can never remember if they ever do it in 10 minutes. Next time I'll time it.

Once on the ground the plane wound its way around the tarmac and eventually came to a standstill, but then all the passengers had to get off and get their bags out of the overhead lockers. It took an age and I had a minicab waiting for me. The problem now, of course, was that I couldn't call the driver until I'd retrieved my case from baggage reclaim, found the charger and charged the phone. This I did, sitting in a Caffe Nero and when the phone lit up I noticed many missed calls from an unknown mobile number, it was my minicab driver. I called him and we arranged a meeting place. Outside there was driving rain and shiny streets and pavements, and it continued all the way home on the M25. It had been raining all day and if I'm honest, I preferred the minus 14 degrees of Helsinki.

I reached home around 2300hrs, hit the sack around 2330hrs and now here I am, it's Friday morning and I've got the day off, the rain has stopped and I'm in the garden room blogging. 

Night boat to Helsinki, part two...

Last night's dinner in Bon Vivant (and yes, I still hate the name) was absolutely amazing and arguably the best meal I've eaten outside of my own house. I started with potato and oyster mushroom, but there was no mention of 'soup' and I was wondering exactly what I'd get. A jacket potato with mushrooms? Surely not. And no, it wasn't that, it was a soup, which was very tasty even if it didn't look that appetising. It had made the mistake of fine dining establishments in the UK from the early noughties onwards: that of serving up something that resembles gob. Or as fine dining establishments like to call it, foam. I hate it! And yes it does look as if somebody (the chef probably) has gobbed in a dish, added a bit of garnish and shouted 'Service!' But it tasted good. It tasted great but it wasn't particularly substantial. I've enjoyed better soups, put it that way, but still, it was good and that's all that matters. For my main course, I chose beef and plum and again the description was deceptive. What was I going to get? A piece of beef and a plum? Well, yes, I suppose, but it was much better than that: a huge slab of beef cooked to perfection with a very tasty slab of potato 'cake' on which was resting a large sprig of brocolli. Is that right? A sprig of brocolli? Anyway, it was the most amazing main course and I loved every bit of it, even if the waiter did arrive a few moments later to say he'd given me the wrong sauce (I hadn't noticed) and said it didn't matter a jot. I finished with a rice pudding dish – 'rice and gooseberry' – and it too was amazing, far better than I expected and easily the healthiest dessert on the menu. An alcohol-free Heineken and a large bottle of mineral water finished off the meal and I must say I sat there for a long time chilling as the ship steamed its way towards Helsinki.

Icy waters surrounding the port in Stockholm

After dinner there wasn't much to do unless I fancied the noisy cabaret act or the fruit machines in the casino. There's nothing worse than a casino, especially on a ship, because the reality is there are no 'high rollers' just chancers in ill-fitting clothes, you know the sort of person, they used to hog the pub fruit machine and knew far to much about when to 'nudge' and when to collect, always had pockets full of tokens jingling in their pockets. They're not James Bond, they're not George Clooney or anybody else who looks good in a dinner suit, they're just fools who will eventually lose whatever they win. Gambling, like drinking, is pointless. So with a toss-up of cabaret or casino I decided just to wander around. I checked my flight to London, added all the information the airline wanted to know and then put the finishing touches to yesterday's blogpost. It was soon time for bed, not that I really wanted to return to the barren cabin, but all the shops were closing for the night and it was almost 2300hrs. I lay on my bed, resting my head on the one pillow provided, and listened to the noises of the ship (which were mainly people flushing toilets in nearby cabins). 

Ice surrounds the ship

Outside it was dark and all that was visible was the bright white bow wave of the ship as it ploughed through the inky black sea. Eventually I fell asleep but I awoke around 0300 and by and large that was it, I never got back to sleep. I looked out every now and then and saw distant ships that I imagined were going back to Stockholm from Helsinki, but that was it. Prior to that moment (and probably much earlier on, possibly around midnight) I remember the ship slowing down. When I looked out of the window there were lights and a port and it reminded me of that scene in Apocalypse Now when Martin Sheen arrives in a strange, illuminated part of the jungle where the soldiers are dropping acid and I think Dennis Hopper turned up taking photographs. My memory of the movie is sketchy at best. I remember it being 0600 and 0700 and then I noticed that my watch was losing power, the battery needed to be replaced. 

Fast Lane restaurant...

At around 0800hrs I jumped into the shower. I wasn't expecting anything great, but it turned out to be the best shower of the trip, far better than the Birger Jarl hotel's offering. The space was cramped, however,  and the plug appeared to be blocked so the tray filled up and overflowed – but then I saw a plug on the floor and assumed it was a 'wet room', although that doesn't excuse the shower as there was a plug in the shower that clearly wasn't working. I decided not to shave, I just couldn't be bothered, and besides, I needed to get out of the cabin and down to breakfast in the Fast Lane restaurant. I'd imagine that Bon Vivant is closed and who wants a fine dining breakfast for heaven's sake, miniscule portions of food that should be piled high on the plate? Fast Lane was making big claims about its breakfast and to be fair it delivered on them. Porridge with berries and yoghurt fitted the bill nicely, throw in a pastry, a banana and a mint tea and I was in my element again. But then I wondered, when am I not in my element? Probably when I'm hungry. I kind of regret the pastry, but other than that all was well.

The view from cabin 9212, Thursday 8th February, 0800hrs.

The sea is flat calm and there's a mist that limits visibility. It's 0939 and there's about an hour to run. I'll need to get back to my cabin in order to pack stuff up and make ready to disembark. I must say I've enjoyed the ride, it's been a great night on the high seas and far better than being in a hotel, and I think I probably exaggerated the more unsavoury elements of the trip. It wasn't the ship's fault that one of its passengers decided to have a noisy shag and I suppose I ought to forgive the man in Fast Lane for belching, he was only human after all. 

The perfect main course...

Was it a party boat? Well, I suppose for some it probably was; there was certainly a lot of entertainment and with entertainment comes drinking so I'm guessing there are a few people with sore heads this morning wishing they didn't have to disembark, but in so many ways it was very civilised, far more civilised than it might have been if the ship was English. The passengers on the Silja Symphony were a little more sophisticated, considerably less lairy and drunk than their English counterparts. There's a mixed bunch here in Fast Lane this morning: a young family with a baby and their parents, the odd married couple, two kids playing on their own by the window, a man with a pony tail and beard playing with his iphone, a couple of slightly older people, probably married, a woman on her own, her case already packed and by her side, drinking tea, and many other variants of humanity going about the simple task of eating whatever they consider to be 'breakfast' be it a cup of tea or a bowl of porridge.

It's getting very close to the time when we disembark. Looking out of the window now I can see a lot of land, lots of snow and houses and hills and bare trees. We're in Finland that's a fact and it looks very cold and bleak, much bleaker than Stockholm so I'm glad I've brought the Russian hat with me and that I'm wearing a thick jumper and my UniQlo trousers, which are padded and warm. I'd better go, it's been good and I'd definitely do it again, that's a fact.

Minus 14 degrees in Helsinki...sea's frozen up

It's seriously cold out there, I thought as I surveyed the port area of Helsinki. My iphone said it was minus 14 degrees and the sea had frozen up. There were huge chunks of ice covering every inch of the sea and it was amazing how the boat managed to get through it all, but it did. Foolishly I had left my charger and adaptor in the cabin, which was mildly annoying as I'd spent a lot of time surveying the cabin for anything I might have left behind. I failed to check the power point. But no matter, I simply went back in and retrieved it and no time was lost.

Breakfast on the boat...

There was ice on the ground in Helsinki – a lot of ice – it was much, much colder than Stockholm and I had to be careful in case I slipped and fell. Fortunately I didn't fall and it was only a matter of time before I found myself at Helsinki airport after a brief meeting with a colleague. The check-in procedure was pretty straightforward and there was a queue for security, but it soon dwindled into nothing and eventually I was through and sitting in Nordic Kitchen where I ordered a salmon sandwich and some Fazer chocolate, not forgetting a mug of green tea. I might buy myself a bottle of water for the flight. Earlier, I ordered a cab to take me from London Heathrow to home (£79). That will save a gruelling journey with a suitcase on public transportation. I should be home by around 2200hrs.

I'm flying Finnair and if I remember correctly they hand out a small circular piece of chocolate in a red wrapper. I'll be looking forward to that. Having said that, I've had a couple of small bars of Fazer with my salmon sandwich in Nordic Kitchen so I don't want to be overdoing things. In fact, all this eating of rubbish simply has to stop, but I just can't resist it, especially if I'm hungry. I need to start swimming and upping the cycling as the weather warms up, but I can't keep talking, I must act.

Night boat to Helsinki!, part one...

I can't contain my excitement! I used to reserve such joy for a long train journey, but now I'm about to embark upon a sea journey, from Stockholm to Helsinki, an overnight trip on the Silja Symphony. I can board the boat around 1530hrs, or so I'm told, and then we depart around 1645hrs. Our arrival time in Helsinki is 1030hrs and there's little much to do on board but sleep and eat (two of my favourite pastimes). Actually, sleeping is not a favourite pastime, I don't know why I said that as I often wake in the middle of the night and then spend hours trying to get back to sleep. Last night, for example, I awoke around 0100hrs, but that was because I hit the sack around 2130hrs. I got up, wandered around the room a bit then got back in to bed and somehow I awoke around six. I reckon I had around eight hours sleep in total. I took a shower and went down for breakfast, but it wasn't as relaxed as Tuesday's first meal of the day. I decided not to have the 'Full Swedish' of scrambled eggs, mushrooms and cherry tomatoes, settling instead for a bowl of cereal with seeds and raisins and yoghurt and a bowl of fruit (oranges, grapes, melon). Throw in a green tea and that was it; alright, on the way out I grabbed a mini croissant and a small biscuit, but that was it. I had to check out and as you might recall me saying in yesterday's post, I hate checking out of hotels. Still, there was little fuss, everything had been paid for, I hadn't used the minibar so it was plain sailing.

In the dock awaiting departure for Helsinki.

I took a cab to the other side of town, to the Hilton Hotel where I had some business to attend to and then I took a short stroll to a coffee shop close to the Birger Jarl hotel called Bröt & Bread where I ordered a cappuccino and a really tasty pastry filled with almond paste. Afterwards, I retrieved my suitcase from the hotel before boarding another taxi which would take me to my final meeting of the day. I got there early and tried to find a café that was open just to keep out of the cold. I found one opposite an ice rink and ordered a green tea and soon it was time for the meeting. Lunch followed in an excellent Thai restaurant and then, after saying my farewells, I took yet another taxi to the port at Hamnpirsvägen 10 where I have to await the Silja Symphony, my boat for the journey.

I've switched to a cabin with windows

Right now I'm sitting in a café, I've just ordered a vanilla tea (and bought a fridge magnet) and now it's a waiting game. There's not many people around, but having said that, I arrived around 1300hrs, actually, make that 1330hrs. Right now, at 1441hrs, there's more activity, but mine isn't the only boat waiting on the port side, there are boats to Turku and Tallinn too and who knows who is going where? All I know is that my boat doesn't start boarding until around 1500 to 1530hrs. There's a group of five people sitting close by, one is American and I'm not sure about the others. The American talks a lot about eagles. Two people, one being the American, sport black shirts and bald heads, they look virtually identical but they're not.  There are a few families, I can hear kids and everybody is wearing a bobble hat. Mind you, it is very cold and it's quite funny the way Swedish people cast aside preening and looking neat and tidy, bowing instead to the harshness of the cold weather (understandably) and wearing what looks like sleeping bags. Bivvy bags, bobble hats, trousers, you name it, the game is to keep warm at all costs.

I can't think of much else to say at this present time, except to say that they upgraded my cabin, which I didn't expect. Either way I don't get a window, but according to one of my colleagues, it'll be dark by the time I sail and I won't need one. 

This ship is absolutely huge!

I decided to take the ferry because I didn't fancy three flights in one trip. I'd already flown from London to Stockholm and I didn't fancy flying Stockholm to Helsinki and then Helsinki to London as that would have meant...well, I'm not sure what it would have meant; I suppose another hotel room in Stockholm or Helsinki. So I opted for the boat, which I reckon is cheaper, it's only £132...or something like that. So, as I say, here I am. I have my ticket, I have everything I need for the journey. I'm getting twitchy. I need to know whether there will be an announcement or whether we're all expected to just get up, go through the barriers and board the ship.

There's some kind of automatic machine scooting around the terminal building, probably a scrubber/dryer or some kind of cleaning device. I remember once (while a freelancer) having to write about scrubber dryers, oh, the glamour! I've just got up and checked and it is a scrubber/drier (see video). How fantastic! I know, little things, but it's not that little, it looks a bit like a Dalek. The machine is amusing others, namely the two bald-headed men wearing black shirts who earlier were talking about eagles. They've now visited the restrooms leaving a white-haired man with a white hoodie covered in stars chatting to one of the two women who share the table. I presume the other woman, ah...here she comes now, she's back, dressed in black (as she was before she left) and she has dyed black hair. She must have been in the restrooms.

Dancing girls greet passengers...

I'm going to take a wander, find out the lie of the land, see if there's going to be an announcement, find out what's 'beyond passport control' and generally get my bearings. I don't need any more to eat and I hear the catering on board is good. Talk again later...

Later...

So I found out that there would be an announcement and there was and now I'm on board, in my cabin and it's not brilliant. Very basic. It makes me wonder what the cabin I had before was like. I'm told that I can upgrade to a cabin with a window for just 20 Euros, I'm definitely doing that, but I can't do anything for another 25 minutes after the boat has departed. It's 1645hrs now so we should be leaving soon.

The ship in the dock as we embark on our journey...

I've taken a wander around and it's okay, there's a few gift shops and a number of restaurants and eating areas. Currently I'm in Fast Lane, a kind of cafeteria selling pastries and hot drinks. I bought a green tea and a couple of small bars of Fazer chocolate and I'm sitting in the corner blogging because you can only get wifi on level seven. On level 6 there's an Italian restaurant, but I've booked myself a table in Bon Vivant (I hate that name) for 1830hrs, it seemed like the most upmarket offering on board. Elsewhere on the ship there's a conference going on. There are various bars dotted around and the whole ship shouts excess, there's plenty of opportunity for Sweden's Dave Oafs to drink themselves senseless on board and then stagger off in the morning. I keep seeing people with trays of lagers and can only imagine how awful it could be. 

Noisy shaggers...

Outside of drinkers, of course, there are shaggers. I was quietly minding my own business in a public area on deck 11 when I heard the unmistakable porn movie shrieking of a woman behind one of the doors close to my own. She clearly had no sense of shame as she wailed on and on and on in true porn star manner. It was quite embarrassing if the truth be known. I know these boats have a reputation to keep up – that of 'party boat' – but the passengers could pipe it down a bit, there are English people on board! I'd imagine whoever she is, she's cast off her bivvy bag and Ugg boots, dispensed with her bobble hat and jumpers and, well, there's not much room in those cabins and I don't particularly want to imagine any more. For all I know she might be a right heifer, but it doesn't always follow and who said heifers can't have their fun? And who am I to start calling somebody I don't know and haven't seen a heifer? The odd thing was I walked past all the shops, spoke to the lady on the information desk about upgrading (not because of the shaggers, I just wanted a window with a sea view) and when I got back to the 11th floor and was making my way to the cabin to get my laptop, she was at it again. I'm now wondering whether there's anybody in there with her or if she's got a giant vibrating dildo wired up to the mains, possibly USB-chargeable, purchased, perhaps, from a Stockholm sex shop, not that I've seen any sex shops – and not that I was looking either. I've been far too busy to entertain anything so sleazy – not that I'd entertain anything sleazy if I wasn't busy – all I want is dinner, my book and then bed, preferably in a cabin with a window. God! I'm sounding really old and boring aren't I? A decent meal and a book, that's all I want, but it's true, who wants the faff of anything else? Well, clearly the woman behind one of the doors further up from mine. Briefly, I imagined knocking on her door and telling her to keep it down, but that was probably the last thing on her mind; and the last thing on my mind was having an altercation with a Viking gentleman, although I'm not on the Viking Line.

Boats going to Helsinki and to Tallinn (Estonia)

So it's just gone 1700hrs and as far as I can tell we're still at port. Normally when you're on a huge ship like this one you get the sound of engines revving up and notice a little bit of movement. Then it's time to wonder if you're likely to suffer from seasickness. I've travelled across the North Sea before (twice) and on both occasions I was fine, let's hope so today. Earlier, I passed a seafood restaurant and thought no, imagine a double whammy: seasickness AND food poisoning, firing on all cylinders with a soundtrack of shagging as the boat dips and dives its way to Helsinki, or Helsingfors as it's known to the Swedes. The very thought almost made me sick as I imagined all the soft toys – the seals, the meerkats and the bears – giving me strange looks as I disembarked with a green complexion, smelling of sick and wishing I was home.

A man next to me has started belching loudly, I won't even look at him, but there you have it.

New cabin...

I managed to upgrade to a cabin with a window and it only cost me 20 Euros, not bad. I'm on deck nine, no longer on deck 11, and while the dimensions and style of the cabin are roughly the same, there's a window and I can see out at the twinkling lights of Sweden on the shore line. In all honesty I didn't know the boat was moving. I was expecting to hear the roar of engines, but there was nothing and if I hadn't asked somebody I would still think we were in the dock. If it stays like this I'll be happy. I've got dinner booked for 1830hrs in Bon Vivant (arguably the best restaurant on the ship) and if everything goes to plan I'll be docking in Helsingfors (Helsinki) around 1030hrs tomorrow morning. I just hope I get a decent night's sleep.

I'm back in Fast Lane, but I'm not eating and nobody has asked me what I'm doing so I assume all is well with the world. There's 20 minutes to kill before it's time to eat and I know that there's nothing but shops on this level (level seven) and that elsewhere there are bars, a conference centre, a casino (I hate casinos) and probably that's it. Oh, there's a gym too and I'm sure there's loads of other facilities; this is, after all, a hotel on on the high seas full of people shagging and drinking and buying stuff they don't need. There are men nursing pints of beer, men and women drinking together, alcohol wherever I look and I'm the only one on a laptop writing. The Society of the Spectacle is here too, I've seen it, on the sixth floor, or deck six, everything exactly the same as the 'spectacle' found at airports all over the world. Once again, I'm never tempted.

In Stockholm, part two...

It was too cold to go out last night so a walk around the block was out of the question. I finished off writing yesterday's blogpost and then I hit the sack and read a couple of chapters of Eat, Sleep, Cycle by Anna Hughes. Then it was time to turn out the lights and sleep, which I did, but I awoke around 0400hrs and simply lay there hoping I would get back to sleep. Sadly, I didn't, so around 0450hrs I got up and checked out what needed to be done: there was plenty of stuff to be getting on with in the shape of a meeting at 0900hrs followed by a press conference at a furniture exhibition around 1130hrs and then, after lunch, another meeting and then another meeting. I tried not to rely upon cabs, but this meant relying upon the SatNav on my phone, which can be a little confusing. I never know whether to follow the voice instructions or to look at my screen and follow the small blue circle. I opted for the former and miraculously I arrived at my destination, having given myself plenty of time in case I messed up. Fortunately I didn't and soon I was engaged in a convivial meeting in the centre of Sweden and virtually opposite Stockholm Central Station from where my train would depart for Alvsjo, a short 10-minute journey and then a little walk to the exhibition centre. Once that meeting was over I found an Espresso House and ordered a cappuccino, a foccacia bread filled with ham and cheese and a bun. I could have done without the bun if I'm honest, but I ate it nonetheless and then made my way to my next appointment. I decided to take a cab and get there early, which was a smart move and then, when that meeting was over I headed over to my last of the day, which started to get a little fraught as my cellphone was rapidly losing power and I was having trouble trying to find where I was going. Fortunately, the person I was meeting read my email and called me and as I was fairly near we met and had an early dinner meeting. All well and good, but with the phone on around 3% power I knew it was about to cut out so I jumped in a cab for the journey back to the hotel and here I am now, not exhausted, but glad my busy and somewhat hectic day was over and I could simply chill out.

The full Swedish?

But I've been jumping the gun. I haven't told you about the hotel breakfast. As I said earlier, I got out of bed around 0450hrs and started organising the day, but then, after showering and shaving, I went downstairs to the breakfast room (it was basically the restaurant I found myself in last night so no surprises other than an extremely good breakfast offering. I started with a cooked breakfast: scrambled egg, mushrooms, sausages and cherry tomatoes and then moved on to other stuff: a few mini biscuits, a mini croissant, some toast and marmalade, a bowl of cereal with various healthy-looking seeds and some yoghurt and I think that was it apart from a couple of mugs of green tea and a small bowl of fruit (grapes, oranges, melon and so forth). I had plenty of time too, which meant I could chill out and read a couple more chapters of Eat, Sleep, Cycle by Anna Hughes. Soon, however, it was time to get on with my busy day, as outlined above.

And now here I am, back in the hotel. I do have a gripe: there's no desk. All hotel rooms have desks! But not this one. Right now, for example, I am sitting at the end of the bed, my lap top on a white piece of furniture with two doors and that's it. Oh for a nice desk and a decent seat on which to sit, but no, they've decided to be 'quirky' and, as all hotel designers should know, 'function before form!' it's just the basics and they failed to deliver. I thought for a moment that there wasn't a mirror, but there is: it's in the wardrobe, not that I'll use it; I try to avoid mirrors as I hate to see myself in them looking tired, perhaps, or overweight and in need of exercise although, to be honest, I don't think I am overweight and I tend to get enough exercise. The truth is I just don't like seeing myself, I never have, it's like hearing the sound of my voice, I hate that too and in a way I kind of hate the way I sound too and can simply hope that others don't find me as grating as I do. Perhaps they don't and I'm just a shivering pile of paranoia, like that character from Catch the Pigeon, if anybody remembers it.

The view from room 709...

The weather here is cold, but it's just about bearable. Today, in the press room at the furniture show, I briefly discussed the weather with the two women behind the counter and they said it felt colder than minus 4, which is what I guessed it would be. Actually, I wasn't guessing, the woman on the reception desk of my hotel last night said it was minus 4, much to my disappointment as I wanted to later brag about being out in minus 13, but that was scuppered until the press room women said they thought it was around minus 10. Who knows? Not me – or them by the sounds of it. Let's just say it was brass monkey weather out there, but surprisingly (not in the city at any rate) there hasn't been any snow and the paths are as dry as anything, you won't be slipping over on black ice here! Or any other kind of ice for that matter.

A brief mention of the lift, or hiss as they call it in Sweden. It has two doors: the main and conventional sliding doors that all lifts have and then, as you stand there looking out, there's also a door, ie a proper door that opens outwards (as all doors do in Scandinavia, I think!) that only serves my floor, the 7th. When the lift stops I push the door, which is to my left, and get out. People aren't allowed to stand around the edges of the lift and if they do, apparently, the lift simply gets stuck (or so they say).

Yes it is a boring shot of an exhibition centre...

Right, I'll probably skim through a few television channels, see if anything good is on (there won't be) and then I'm going to bed, getting an early night and then another early start tomorrow morning. I've got to check out and there's nothing worse than checking out of a hotel, I just hate having to leave my bag with the concierge or, worst still, taking it with me to an appointment, which I might have to do. Still, the upside to all of it will be the night boat to Helsinki...I can't wait!

To Stockholm...

Sometimes things go smoothly, and so far that has been the case, not that I want to tempt fate. I left the house just before 1000hrs and jumped aboard the 1009hrs train from Sanderstead. At East Croydon a Brighton train arrived within minutes and the first stop was my destination, Gatwick Airport. Despite being largely automated, there were no problems with checking in; it was even easy to change my seat to a window seat and deposit my bag on the conveyor.

Weak tea in Grain Store

I took a table in Grain Store, a café I have visited before, and I've just enjoyed scrambled eggs on toast plus more toast with a small jar of marmalade, it's just annoying that it's soda bread, which is hard and unforgiving and not very pleasant. Oh, and let's not forget a decaff tea, which was dreadful. It had no substance to it and, you might understand me when I say that I could see the hot water and not the tea, having poured in the milk. It's weak and tasteless and very pale, which is very odd considering the brand is Taylors, a reputable name in the world of tea drinking. I left it to brew for at least 15 minutes and look at the state of it (see pic on the right of this text).

I had the full two-hour airport experience, mainly because everything ran smoothly, even security, and so I sat at my table feeling pleased that I had well over an hour left to run before heading for the gate. I'm off to Stockholm and then Finland and then home again and there's a trip across the ocean involved too, and by that I mean I'm taking the night boat to Helsinki on Wednesday night.

I was tempted to go for a wander around the shops, but it's so depressing looking at things I really don't need like Go-Pro cameras, fancy headphones, expensive and unnecessary luggage or clothes that are far too expensive for my tastes or for what they are; I did have a brief look at the iphones and the Samsung phones and the Garmin watches, but I never left the store feeling as if I needed to buy one, not that I could afford it and besides who needs so much data? Nobody. The whole thing about measuring everything, how many steps, how many this, how many that, building up stats on everything, there's no need and there's no point. I do it enough with Strava.

Through the clouds!

At 1250 the gate was announced, gate 23, and I marched there, it was quite a yomp and I decided not to use the automated walkway. While the Norwegian flight was supposed to take off at 1300hrs, it didn't take off until nearer 1400hrs, but for some reason it didn't matter so I accepted the situation, which wasn't at all dire. I was sitting in seat 6F on the right hand side of the plane, there was nobody sitting next to me and a woman in a track suit sat in the aisle seat. We didn't talk to one another and I think she was in a trance for most of the flight. I saw her again at baggage reclaim but again she looked a little odd and besides we didn't know each other. Alright, she wasn't odd, just quiet, she probably hated flying, I don't know, there was a bit of Katherine Ryan about her.

The flight was perfect and it was turning in to the perfect day, everything seemed to be working fine: the trains, the planes, the automobiles, everything. There was some initial cloud when we left Gatwick, but then the rest of the flight was spent above a blanket of cotton wool cloud, and there was no turbulence. In short, I loved it. As we descended towards Arlanda airport, the frozen lakes of Southern Sweden showed themselves as we heard from the captain that we'd be on the ground in around 25 minutes. The cloud disappeared and soon we were on the ground heading towards passport control and baggage reclaim. I hate having to use the 'other passports' queue as I consider myself to be a European.

I needed to check out where the hotel was located and what was the best way of getting there so I stopped at the Café Ritazza beyond baggage reclaim – I've been there before – ordered an apple tea and a piece of carrot cake and called the Birger Jarl,  my hotel for the next two days. The woman on the front desk told me a cab would be around 700SEK and I really wasn't planning on spending so much money so I opted for the good old Arlanda Express which took me to Stockholm Central in around 18 minutes. It's like the Gatwick Express, but far, far better. It was dark outside so very little to see, so I just amused myself with my own thoughts and then, suddenly, we were there. I jumped a cab outside the station and was soon at the hotel.

Frozen lakes

The Birger Jarl was the first hotel, ever, to ask me what floor I fancied staying on. "How many are there?" I asked. "Seven." "Okay, put me on the seventh floor and so here I am in Room 709 on the seventh floor in a room with polka dot wallpaper and, oddly, no desk so I'm forced to recline on a kind of elongated chair which allows me to stretch out, put the laptop on my lap and write this blogpost. I've just had dinner downstairs in the restaurant. Chicken followed by chocolate mousse and washed down with a no-alcohol beer and a few glasses of water. It was a very pleasant dinner. I sat there reading my book, Eat, Sleep, Cycle by Anna Hughes, it's absolutely brilliant and I'm loving every chapter of it, make that every sentence.

On the dinner front, while it was okay, the portion sizes were a little on the small side and I wasn't able to put it on my room, presumably because the restaurant is a separate business and not really part of the hotel. But portion sizes aside, the evening was very pleasant and relaxing and just what the doctor ordered. To be honest, did I really want to come to bed feeling stuffed? No I didn't. Far better to eat reasonably light before hitting the sack.

The Arlanda Express at Stockholm Central 

For some reason I thought it was minus 13 outside, maybe because that's what it said on my hotel room's television set (flatscreen screwed to the wall). But it turns out to be just minus 4, which is good. I stood outside in what I thought was minus 13 and it wasn't that cold, but when I was told it was only minus 4, well, I thought yes, that's probably about right, and then took the lift to the top floor and my room, which is great. There are wood floors, a decent wardrobe, a fine bathroom and a flatscreen television, which I'll probably watch in a few minutes before hitting the sack. I was going to have a shower, but I'll leave that until the morning now. In fact, I'll probably pass on watching television, who needs the stimulation before trying to get some sleep? Not me.

Room 709, Birger Jarl, Stockholm

I'm here for two nights, which is great as I hate staying anywhere for just one, there's no point unpacking. It's nice to know that I don't have to up sticks in the morning, it means I have some kind of base, which I like. On Wednesday I take the night boat to Helsinki and suddenly I feel like a spy. I always feel like a spy when I travel abroad. Jason Bourne, somebody like that. Whenever I'm on a train in Europe, as I've probably said before, it's as if I'm in The Great Escape. Big X being questioned by the Germans and then being caught out by the Gestapo. "Bartlett!" And then that great scene as Richard Attenborough is running through the quiet streets of France. "Your German is good and also your French I hear. Your hands...up!" I'm just hoping that the bad guy from No Country for Old Men isn't milling around looking for a large sum of money, but fortunately I don't have it so my conscience is clear. 

It's gone 2200hrs and I'm just lolling here with the lap top on my lap. Being on the seventh floor there's not much traffic noise, which is good as I'm ready to hit the sack. I can get breakfast at 0630hrs in the morning, which is good as I like a decent hotel breakfast and it'll be good to see what the Birger Jarl has to offer. I'm expecting great things and I'm hoping they won't disappoint as breakfast is the most important meal of the day as we all know. I'm hoping it won't be minimalist (like tonight's dinner) although I was more than happy as I don't really want to over-eat. 

The Birger Jarl is a quirky hotel and it's kind of the icing on the cake for me as today has been rather special. I've had little cause to be upset with anything or anybody. Perhaps I will treat myself to some Swedish television, but only for a short while as I want to get a good night's sleep. In fact, sod the television, I'm going straight to bed and I can't wait.

To Tatsfield Village...

Last week, two trips to Tatsfield, one alone, one with Andy (on Sunday). Great rides both of them, the weather wasn't too severe, but it was a little on the chilly side, certainly on Saturday. I've taken to riding along the off-road path on the return journey along the 269. It's been okay but there are bits where the uneven path shakes the bike to smithereens and on Sunday I lost my front light as a result. I looked down and it wasn't there and the very thought of stopping and retracing my steps back along the path was too annoying to be given any major consideration, which I suppose was stupid in itself. I figure I'd buy a new front light. That said, perhaps I'll take a look for it this weekend.

Tatsfield Village pond.

I'm still angry with myself for not tying in to an exercise routine, not yet at any rate. Everything in my life is so haphazard. I might start using the trim wheel on, say, a Monday, but then I'll completely forget about it until Wednesday and it's all to do with circumstances. I might oversleep and vow to do the exercises in the evening, but then the evening comes and I completely forget about it until it's too. Likewise the Saturday ride, but this is more my fault. I simply get up, knowing I can go whenever I want and then end up still being in the house at gone 0900hrs when the demands of others starts to creep in. End result? I don't go out, although I do promise myself that I'll go in the evening and then, of course, I don't go.

Pot of tea at Sheree's...totally civilised!

Now it's the following week and it's Saturday morning (yesterday) and it's lunch time for heaven's sake and there's no way I'm going now. I'll either go tonight or (most likely) I'll content myself with the thought that I'm going tomorrow and then lol in front of the television all night. There has been a kind of on/off pattern to cycling, mainly because of cold weather and the sequence goes something like this: Two rides, one ride, no rides, one ride, two rides (per week) and so on. Last week I managed two rides, good for me. This week it's just the one and in many ways it's gone back to what it used to be pre-pandemic when rain might have stopped the Saturday ride or Andy couldn't make it on the Sunday or the weather across the weekend was so rubbish we didn't go out at all. Back then, of course, we just accepted the situation for what it was and perhaps that should be the way now, but I don't think so. It needs to be addressed and I've got to have more discipline, more get up and go, more organization and so forth. In other words, as I keep saying, I must get my act together and make a difference.

Inside Sheree's Tearooms...

It's the same for walking. I've done alright on walking. I'm not always recording the walks on Strava, but I think this week I've managed a couple of two-milers and one slightly longer, but when the International Man of Mystery isn't around I prefer a curry and rice and a mug of tea down the caff and why not? Fine, but I don't walk home, I wait for the Purley Oaks train, although, all things said, I always walk around two miles per day from my house to Purley Oaks station in the morning and at night, so the default is around a two-miler daily.

I promised myself that I'd go swimming. I haven't gone yet and we're now in February. I won't say anymore about that but hopefully one day I'll manage it and get in the groove. In fact I'm not going to say anything about my plans for exercise as whenever I do I simply don't do it.

Today I rode to Tatsfield village, forgetting that Andy wasn't going to be there. I have vague memories last week of him saying he wouldn't be going, but as I say, I forgot. So I left the house around 0800hrs and at around 0900, as Sheree's Tearoom came into view, I couldn't see Andy's trademark orange forks. I started to think, hold on, I've beaten him to it, I'm the first to arrive, this is great news, but as I drew nearer and kind of remembered him saying he wouldn't be there. In many ways I'm glad I forgot because had I remembered I probably wouldn't have gone, I'd have left it too late and then thought I'll start again next week. In other words, not remembering he wouldn't be there did me a lot of favours.

Chicken curry at Rodi's Redhill

Over the past few weeks I've been taking the off-road path on the return journey along the 269 and it's been alright, except that it's pretty bumpy, shaking the bike to smithereens and last week (rather annoyingly) I lost my front light as a result. Today, after tea at Sheree's, I followed the same route along the off-road path, but I slowed right down and kept an eye out for my light. I didn't find it, which means I'll have to buy another one. It was warmer out today than it has been of late, which made for a pleasant change. 

When I reached Sheree's, Ken was there. We wished each other a good morning and that was it; I felt glad that he didn't engage me in a chat about catheters. Instead, I sat there looking out of the window and just chilling out until I'd finished my pot of tea. Then I headed out on the ride home and I must say it was enjoyable. At least I got one ride in and things will improve, I know they will.