Showing posts with label Finnair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Finnair. Show all posts

Friday, 9 February 2024

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. 

Thursday, 8 February 2024

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.





Sunday, 16 April 2023

It's Christmas every day in Rovaneimi...

I've been to Finland three times now. The first time was in February 2020, just before lockdown, the second time I flew there just for dinner in August 2022 and now I'm back again in April 2023. One thing has characterised all three trips: every hotel I have been booked in to has given me a room right at the very end of a corridor. Every hotel. Back in February 2020 at the Scandic Simonkentta, I think I was in room 602, I can't remember exactly, but it was right at the very end of a corridor on the right. It was the same with the second visit, when I stayed in the Scandic Paasi, and at the Santa Claus Hotel in Rovaneimi (room 560) AND yesterday (Saturday 15April) at the Indigo Hotel (room 411). Once again, I'm at the end of the corridor, this time on the left hand side. The only difference about the Indigo Hotel, from where I am writing this blog, is that the doors open inwards. Everywhere else, in fact, everywhere else, not just the hotels, doors open outwards to make it easier for people to escape their rooms if they need to kick the doors down to escape, say, a fire. Why the Indigo bucked the trend, I don't know.

Santa Claus Hotel, Rovaneimi
I flew from Rovaneimi at just gone 1400hrs. It was a very pleasant flight. The skies were clear and cloudless and below me I could see the barren landscape of Finland with it's frozen lakes and rivers and all I could think about was that I rode the night train to Rovaneimi and that all of that was below me; what took me all night will be over in an hour and all we got for free from Finnair was a small cup of blueberry juice. Not that I'm complaining. Finnair has been brilliant and it was only a one-hour, 10-minute flight. I was sitting in seat 1a with plenty of leg room. It was a small plane with two rows of two seats and it was packed.

On reaching Helsinki I took the train into the city and then trundled my suitcase along cobbled streets (not ideal) to the Indigo Hotel on Bulevardi. The pleasant nature of this hotel was revealed immediately with an efficient check-in, the room (411) was good and I decided to get a walk in before dinner. I paced it out for 2.14 miles, following a straightforward but random route in the shape of a square and then, when I got back to the room I phoned home and then started to wonder about where to have dinner. A trendy pasta restaurant was suggested, but in all honesty I couldn't be bothered with 'trendy' so I stayed at the hotel's Bröd restaurant where I enjoyed gravlax followed by steak with pollenta chips and rounded off with a lime posset, which I could have done without because it was tasteless. But let's not criticise the hotel, it was fantastic. I sat there reading The Big Midweek – Life Inside the Fall by Steve Hanley in between eating and drinking. I ordered a bottle of sparkling Pellegrino and, not really wanting a no-alcohol Heineken, I opted for a non-alcoholic cider, and let's face it, non-alcoholic cider is apple juice, why not simply offer me an apple juice? Either way, it was a pleasant drink, much pleasanter than a Heineken 00.

It's Christmas all year round in Rovaneimi

I had a long chat with the waitress, so long I almost let my green tea go cold, and then I paid up and headed back to room 411. I messed around with the room lights and then sat and read my book until I felt tired enough to sleep, but then I awoke around 0304 and here I am writing. It's now 0509.

Daybreak, 0444 in Rovaneimi. This the view from my hotel window...

In Rovaneimi yesterday I realised that Santa Claus works full-time throughout the year. There's a Santa Claus theme park full of souvenir shops and a decent buffet restaurant, the Three Elves, and after a pleasant lunch we headed for the airport and the short flight to Helsinki. But I found it hard to believe that Santa is working in April, meeting people from all over the world and agreeing to have his photograph taken. I felt that I was too old to sit on his knee and so only managed a brief glimpse of the great man - who I thought lived in the street next to mine in the UK (clearly I am mistaken) - but I found that it's Christmas all-year round up there in the Arctic Circle, even my hotel, the aptly named Santa Claus Hotel, had Christmas trees on top of the entrance canopy. Elsewhere there were Christmas lights too. First thing in the morning in Rovaneimi it was minus six degrees. As the day progressed it warmed up a little to around plus 2 degrees and there were patches of ice around that needed to be avoided.

Hearty breakfast in Rovaneimi
Snow is everywhere. It features prominently in family photographs on Finnish iphones and can be seen banked up on the roadsides and in car parks, huge piles of the stuff blended with black/grey grit giving it the appearance of a skunk, like the cartoon character Pepé Le Pew. From the air the snow makes the ground below look like a choppy sea full of white horses crashing hither and thither, and on the roofs of houses there are chunks of the stuff, unsullied by grit, waiting to slide off and hit the ground – and we're talking two to three feet thick slabs of it.

Rovaneimi airport is tiny and there are very little in the way of flights on the departures board, just the Helsinki flight that I'm on and another one. Security was, again, a doddle, and soon we were boarding the flight. I was told as we sat drinking our tea and coffee, that a famous Finnish actress had just walked past us, but such information was alien to me as I don't know any famous Finnish actresses.

While it's warmer in Helsinki than in Rovaneimi, it's still cold and there was a bitter wind that prompted me to do up the buttons on my coat before continuing my journey on foot from the central station to the Indigo hotel, but it's getting warmer here and the Finnish people are looking forward to having barbecues in their back gardens even if they will have to don coats. While the sun is shining and the sky is blue, it's still brass monkey weather. According to my pal Ilkka, the barbecue season has already started. In Tornio yesterday evidence of the beginning of barbecue season was there for all to see in a Motonet store where shop assistants were stocking up with gas cylinders. Inside the shop – which was a huge, cavernous space on the edge of town – there was plenty of different styles of barbecue equipment ranging from the disposable to some pretty impressive pieces of kit that wouldn't look out of place in a modern kitchen. As for Motonet, it was one of those places where you could buy anything: knives, camping equipment, weather-proof clothing, DIY equipment, sweets, outdoor games, stuff for your car, anything at all.

Yours truly at the Arctic Circle...
One of the best things about Finland is Karl Fazer chocolates. I was pleased to note as I walked along Bulevardi that there was a Karl Fazer coffee shop and it was just across the street from my hotel. I went in for a coffee and a pistachio cake and sat there reading before heading back to the hotel to decide upon my dining arrangements. It opens at 1000 this morning, which gives me a little time to chill although I'm not really sure if I'll do that, despite telling the people behind the counter that I'd be back. Instead I might mosey on up to the shops, but then again, perhaps not as I can't really afford to buy anything from Finland's expensive stores, like Stockmann, although it's nice to have a look. Or is it? Perhaps I'll just get resentful and I don't what that as this trip has been full of positivity in so many ways.

It's 0539. Is it even worth going back to bed? I should do because I've a long day ahead of me and then it's work on Monday

I was told the hotel had a swimming pool. It doesn't, although I might be confusing it with another hotel in Canada, across the river from Detroit. Annoying when you consider that I packed a pair of trunks. But all things considered I wonder whether I would have taken the plunge had there been one, probably not. There's simply too much to do, like getting to the station to catch a train to the airport and then all the hassles of security and sitting around waiting for the flight home.

Another virtually empty airport in Finland, this one is Rovaneimi

When I woke up this morning at the ungodly hour of just gone 0300, I checked in online and I'm so glad that I remembered. I had another aisle seat at the back of the plane but now, to my sheer amazement, I'm sitting in seat 3A, which is quite unbelievable. I'm so pleased that I remembered as the flight is full according to the BA website and they're asking for volunteers to take another flight. All well and good, I thought, but the only reason I'm here in Finland on a Sunday – giving up my entire weekend – is because BA was only offering a business class seat on Saturday and that would have cost £1,100 so there was no way I was going to give up seat 1A to possibly find myself spending another night here in Helsinki. Why Finland is so popular at the moment I'm not sure, but all the flights appear to be full. On that extortionate business class seat, it's simply not worth it. Later, sitting in seat 3A I was directly behind the two rows of business class seats, separated by a curtain, and that seems to me to be a piss poor incentive to fork out over £1,000. Alright, so I had to suffer small paper cups of water from the plane's supplies as opposed to a bottle of mineral water, but so what? In fact, one small gripe: I pressed the service button on the panel above the seat and when the cabin crew member arrived I asked if I could buy a bottle of mineral water. Moments earlier I had seen her walk past with a trolley full of bottles of mineral water. "I'm sorry, these are for business class," she said snootily and then offered me some sub-standard tiny cups of water from the plane's tap. I'm so glad I didn't pay that £1,100 for a business class ticket. None of those bottles were given to any of the eight people sitting in rows one and two, and that's what I hate about capitalism and the snobbery that goes with it.

Frozen rivers from the air...
Earlier, having woken up at an ungodly hour, I went back to bed having set the alarm to wake me at 0700 and when it did I pressed the snooze button. I repeated the process until it was 0730 (because I was tired and didn't want to get up) and then jumped in the shower, cutting my foot on the door as I jumped out to find a towel. I made a make-shift bandage with some tissues, which are still there now, wedged between my toes, but there's no pain and it's not that bad.

Breakfast at the Indigo was okay, but not mind-blowing and while I've always said that a hotel stands or falls on the quality of its breakfast, the Indigo is different: it's the friendly staff that hold it together. The fresh fruit looked dry and everything else had that insignificant look about it. I chose scrambled egg, mushrooms, vegetables and small sausages, a plate of the dry-looking pineapple chunks, two miniature apple pies, a tiny pain au chocolate and a small Danish pastry and then later a small bowl of yoghurt, I think it was strawberry-flavoured, but you can never tell with yoghurt. I also had three mini chocolate HobNob style biscuits - and I mean mini, they were tiny - a glass of cranberry juice and an English breakfast tea. I sat there reading and then I went back to the room. 

I planned to nip out for a brief walk, wary, of course, that blue skies and sunshine in Finland don't always mean it's warm out there, it's not. I had a late check-out so my plan was to mooch around, possibly have a coffee, but it's easy to get carried away, especially as I'm reading Steve Hanley's The Big Midweek so perhaps I'll leave the book behind, get a brief walk out of the way and then come back to check out. I didn't bother with the walk in the end, but decided to walk to the central station rather than order a cab. I never order a cab unless absolutely necessary.

View from room 411, Indigo Hotel, Helsinki

Apart from cutting one of my toes in the shower, I'm generally feeling fine, but there's no time to chill out with a book. Despite the fact that I've been forced to stay in Helsinki for another night thanks to BA's greed, apart from dinner in the hotel, that's about all I get. After breakfast, time started to run out and I quickly realised that my plan to sit in a cafe reading was out of the question as I'd needed to get moving towards the central station to catch a train to the airport. I had the full two hours once I'd reached the airport. I found somewhere to eat and ordered a foccacia bread filled with cheese and ham and followed by a caramel cheese cake, not forgetting a cappuccino. Once finished I checked the announcements board and noticed that I needed to make my way to passport control. I wish that I'd known about this earlier as once through passport control there were more cafés and I realised that I could have sat in a Starbuck's closer to gate 40. In fact I was lucky that there hadn't been queues because I was under the impression, having already gone through security, that there was nothing more to do other than go to the gate, and that the next step was boarding the plane. How wrong was I! But there were no queues, this was Finland after all, and there's nobody around so all was well and soon I was boarding the plane. It was a pleasant flight of roughly two hours and twenty five minutes and I read a lot of my book whilst occasionally glancing out of the window at the hazy blue skies.

No trains! It wouldn't happen in Finland...

UK Grim
As we approached the UK, of course, the clouds gathered, but there was no turbulence. We landed safely and then the shite started to happen. Travelling by train from Helsinki airport to the centre of town cost 4.30 Euros (around £3.50) but in the UK, a one-way trip on the Heathrow Express into London set me back £25. What a rip-off. Then, once on the train, I was faced with a shuffling beggar and a nutter in a bright yellow tracksuit and then, to top things off, when I reached the concourse of Victoria station I noticed a sign saying 'no Southern trains' due to engineering work. I went back on the tube, headed for Blackfriars and then got a Thameslink train to East Croydon before jumping in a taxi home. Oh to be back in Finland, I thought to myself. All the trains run on time – and are state-owned – and the people are happy even if it is a little cold.

Heathrow baggage reclaim...a very long wait




Friday, 14 April 2023

Night train to Rovaneimi...

It was an early start (on Thursday 13 April) but I decided to avoid a taxi to the airport. Why spend £60 and ruin the environment when I can get an electric train all the way to Heathrow? And do I really want to listen to a racist taxi driver telling me how much he despises the Mayor of London and going on about the ULEZ? No, I don't, so I found myself on the 0709 Victoria train followed by the Underground to Paddington (via Oxford Circus) and then a rather pleasant, albeit short, ride on the Heathrow Express to the airport.

Rovaneimi, 0725 Friday morning, minus 5 degrees...

For some reason, past bitterness created by the hassles of travelling simply evaporated; annoyance and weariness had left the building for some reason. There was no animosity between me and the airline, I couldn't really be bothered with Guy Debord's Society of the Spectacle, in fact, I never even stopped to spray myself with the Eau Savage tester and even 'security' was a doddle. There were no queues to speak of and yes, I had to take my laptop out of my case and all the usual stuff, but nothing phased me. I was happy. I made my way to The Curator, a restaurant, where I ordered a cup of English Breakfast tea and a 'pan hash' with a fried egg on top. It was pleasant and when I was finished I asked for the bill, paid up and made my way to Gate 3 and my awaiting Finnair flight to Helsinki. Dressed like the Milk Tray man I waited patiently for the flight to board and when I discovered that seat H was an aisle seat in the middle row of the plane, while slightly miffed, my anxiety – which was real – soon abandoned ship when I heard a voice on the intercom exclaim that boarding was complete and, guess what, there were rows of empty seats. Without wasting any time I jumped up and made myself comfortable in seat 38K and then set about checking out the music offering on the flight. While it goes without saying that there wasn't that much of what I would call 'good stuff' I did find Money for Nothing by Dire Straits, the only song of theirs that I like, and listening only to the opening bars of the track, which are something else, but the rest of the song (once it gets going) I can live without. I found Rock & Roll Star by Oasis, which somehow had lost its zing, and that was about it so I abandoned music for my book, The Big Midweek by Steve Hanley, a biography about 'life inside The Fall. At about this time I realised, once again, that I should have pulled out all the stops in my younger years and developed a career for myself as a rock star. Still, I guess I have the next best thing: flying all over the world and living (in a sense) the rock and roll lifestyle, even if I have made a conscious decision – that I've kept to for the last five years – to stop drinking and being an imbecile.

Yours truly about to board the night train...
The flight was very smooth and I arrived in Helsinki at 1515hrs and took the train to the central station where I met my pal Ilkka for dinner in a rooftop restaurant. The plan was simple: we were booked on the night train to Rovaneimi and I'm not going to hide the fact that I love it! You simply can't beat a long train journey and if you throw in an on-board cabin, well, what's not to like? 

And here I am, sitting in my cabin, it's almost 2200hrs and its dark outside (just like it is in the UK at this time of night). We've just stopped at a place called Hameelinna and will hurtle on through the night until we reach Rovaneimi first thing in the morning. I can't say I really want to get off the train, but I have to because there's work to be done and, ultimately, that's why I'm here. Left to my own devices I'd stay on to the end of the line, which is miles inside the Arctic Circle, mooch around for a bit and then take the train home again.

Let me tell you about my sleeping quarters. There's a bunk bed and I've chosen to sleep on the bottom. I'm not sharing with anyone and that means I can sit here by the window, peeking out occasionally when the train passes civilization. Right now it's pitch black and there doesn't appear to be anything out there, just fields. There are no lights, nothing, no sign of a road marked out by street lights, nothing at all to reassure me that I'm not in outer space. As I write this, the train is slowing but it's still pitch black and there's nothing to see.

It is a bit cramped, however, but it's not a problem. The bathroom has a hinged wall that pulls back to reveal a shower, but I'm wondering if there will be any hot water. Something tells me there won't be, but who knows? I might be pleasantly surprised. I can see lights up ahead, but over in the distance, I see a road with a solitary car on it as we whoosh through a small and deserted station. In a flash we pass what I'm guessing is a small village and now, within seconds, everything is pitch black again.

The night train arrives in Rovaneimi...

The temperature in Helsinki was around 10 degrees, but there was a bitter wind as we made our way to the central station, pulling our suitcases behind us; and I'm told that as we travel further north, it will get colder. As I flew into the Finnish capital earlier I noticed frozen lakes and snow dotted here and there and I'm told that the winter has kind of just ended and that, from now on, the days will get longer and longer until we reach the summer months of June and July when there will be 12 hours of daylight. Just imagine that. Likewise, in the winter there are 12 hours of darkness.

Inside my cabin on the train...
I've never felt so excited about going to bed. Alright, I have, but let's not go there. Suffice it to say that sleeping on a train is, for me, an exciting thing to do and I'm looking forward to hunkering down: the gentle rocking of the train as it edges further north, the only light coming from a solitary window, the world passing by outside... I'm so looking forward to switching off the light and just lying there on the bed listening to the noise of the train as it heads for the Arctic Circle.

We departed Helsinki at 1929 and are scheduled to arrive in Rovaneimi around 0725. After a brief visit to the train's crowded restaurant car (for a fruit tea and a pastry, not forgetting a bar of Karl Fazer chocolate) I returned to my cabin and set the alarm on my iphone for 0600 and 0630 just in case I oversleep on the first alarm, you never know. I might get such a relaxing night's sleep that I miss the alarm and end up God knows where, but I'm sure that won't happen.

Civilization has appeared again, bigger than past offerings: there are street lights and houses and stuff but it's soon gone, in the space of a few words, no, hold on, it's back again, and now it's gone. I wonder if there are any bears out – there are bears, wolves, moose and wolverines I am later told – and I feel pretty glad that I'm on the train and not out there in the cold and dark trying to find somewhere to pitch a tent. Streetlights resemble distant stars, but once again there are houses out there too, roads and snow here and there. We're passing through a fairly built up area with housing and light industrial buildings, but it's too dark to know for sure what else is out there. Now it's back to the odd street light, dark forests and open fields, none of which I can see too well because it's as good as pitch black.

Everywhere there is snow stacked up...
I'm too excited to read, I think I'll clean my teeth and then hit the sack. I could wait here to see 'what happens', ie if we stop somewhere, if people board the train, who knows what is going to happen? Not me. All I know is that I wish I could take the train back to Helsinki, but I can't, we're booked on a flight from Rovaneimi on Saturday afternoon. There's another town outside and I must say that the housing here in Finland is very cosy. Modern places most of them...we've just rushed through another station but again too fast to note the name of the place. It's another developed area, a town as opposed to a village, and I can just about make out a frozen lake followed by streetlights and deserted roads. Now there is some kind of industrial site with cars and vans parked outside and I'm amazed at the way the Finnish people don't appear to like drawing their curtains at night. That said, it might be something to do with the fact that crime, while not non-existent, is very low here. For a start there's only 5.5 million people living in Finland and they have a land mass far bigger than the UK's where there are almost 70 million people (and counting).

It's pitch black out there again now, but no, hold on, we're slowing down and there are more deserted roads and patches of snow, streetlights and the odd house. I can see one solitary star in the sky, which appears to be guiding (or guarding) the train. I feel in safe hands, put it that way. The train is slowing, but that doesn't mean it's going to stop, let's see what happens. Civilization ain't far, put it that way and the train is still slowing down.

I've just had the fright of my life. My suitcase, which is on casters, has just rolled towards me and at speed, like a wild animal pouncing. It's now rolled back the other way and, no doubt, it'll roll back towards me at any moment. Before I hit the sack I'll have to upend my suitcase to stop it from moving around. The train is still slowing down but it's pitch black outside and there's no sign of an approaching station. But now the big town is back, a huge town to be fair, industrial buildings, car parks, office buildings with stuff written on them, like 'pixact', another with the word 'Koja' written in illuminated letters on the walls. Surely, a station must be coming up soon.  AutoRentti, Scandia Rent, a garage, a Skoda building, Renault, this must be a city of some sort. Metso Outotec, now I know them! Tevo Lokomo, a car park with two cars in it, a building with the word Nokia on the side of it, Integrio; I've noticed that a lot of Finnish buildings are peppered with illuminated brand names. Wherever we are it looks interesting and it's certainly a big city. I can see a Scandic hotel, we're in Tammerfors or Tampere Tammerfors. The station is not deserted. There are passengers waiting to board the train. We've stopped and we're right opposite a Holiday Inn. I'm guessing there are people asleep inside and it makes me feel tired. I can see men wearing high viz clothing, clearly a night shift of sorts. Three of them, chatting, make that four. We're on platform 3. This must be a pretty big city as there's a Stockmann store across from the station. Stockmann is an upmarket department store, Finland's answer to Harrods or Peter Jones. The workmen are moving up the platform and below me a I see a man with a rucksack board the train followed by a young couple. Remember, this is a long train, a very long train, and this could even be the stop where they add a number of carriages carrying motor vehicles. People often put their cars on the train and then travel north on holiday in the summer months when, I am told, the sea and the lakes are warm enough for swimming. Not now, though. The lakes are still frozen solid.

We've been here at Tampere Tammerfors for some time now. A smaller local train arrives on platform two, it's short and green and brightly lit but in a flash it's gone. Somebody else has just boarded the train and I think they were carrying skis. Presumably there's still a lot of snow up north, which is not hard to imagine. We are heading towards the Arctic Circle after all. 

A Holiday Inn at Tampere Tammerfors railway station...

I can't work out what the workmen on platform 1 are doing, but it has something to do with a goods train of sorts that has just departed from a siding. Whatever they were up to, it's finished and they are gone. Perhaps now is the time to clean my teeth and hit the sack. But hold on, a locomotive is shunting a huge train and has just come to a halt on platform 1, it might have something to do with the three workmen, but I haven't a clue if I'm right or wrong, probably the latter.

The cabin comes equipped with a free bottle of mineral water and some very small and flimsy towels. I'm guessing they're not expecting people to take a shower. As I'm the only one in the cabin I get two bottles of water for my consumption and two sets of towels, but listen to me, I'm rambling. I need to go to bed and I think our stop at Tampere Tammerfors is a good reason to make my excuses and hit the sack.

I start to have a conversation with myself. Not out loud, but in my head.

"Go to bed!"

"Alright, then."

I was lying in bed and looking forward to the night ahead. At 2306 the train departed Tampere Tammerfors station and from then onwards I enjoyed the luxury of being gently cajoled into slumber by the motion of the train. I enjoyed a lovely sleep, punctuated by moments of semi-consciousness when I was aware of the speed of the train. I could feel it when the train pitched to port or starboard and was aware of the speed at which we were travelling, which, at times, seemed very fast.

Downtown Rovaneimi on Friday night...nobody around

I awoke early and could see that it was light outside the window. It was 0507 and like a child at Christmas time I wanted to get up and see what presents awaited me. Outside the window were pine forests and snow as the train travelled through what could be described as a winter wonderland. There was nothing out there but pines and snow, deeper than I've ever seen it in the UK. Here and there a small house like something out of a children's storybook, small collections of cottages with Christmas lights, frozen rivers – and I mean frozen rivers, solid enough to walk on. 

The sky above me was blue – or becoming blue. Not a cloud in the sky, but let's not deceive ourselves, it's not warm out there, far from it. There were Christmas trees everywhere and then huge expanses of frozen water, lakes and rivers, it didn't matter, followed by more Christmas trees. In addition to the festive pines there were silver birches, thin stalks of trees with no leaves. It would have been surreal had somebody decorated just one of the trees with flashing lights and baubles (or bobbles as we call them in my house). The forests were thick and dark and, of course, I imagined what it might have been like camping out there in the cold, which made it all the more cosy in my cabin with its under-floor heating. Again, I thought of the wild animals, who were keeping themselves well-hidden. I could stare at such scenery forever and a day: the white snow, the contrasting deep green of the pines, the emptiness, the beauty and in a strange way, the 'warmth' of it all. Up here there was no need to think about governments and politics and normal living, even if we weren't a million miles from the Russian border. Knowing that Finland now enjoys NATO membership was comforting, but all that rubbish and the thought of what the Sleaford Mods describe as 'UK Grim' are far behind me. Looking out on what is basically a living, breathing Christmas card there's no need to think about anything bad. The snow is like icing from one of my mum's Christmas cakes. Occasionally I spotted prints in the snow and wondered if they belonged to humans or animals. It's hard to believe that the snow would ever disappear, but in the summer months it thaws and all that remains are the pines in all their glory. I'm travelling through a snow dome that nobody has picked up or given a good shake. It would be wrong to describe the scene as monotonous because while it is nothing but pines and snow, it's beautiful. A motorway and a few houses appear, dotted here and there, and then we're plunged back into the forests with its pines and silver birches. And then I spot wind power, three white towers rising high above the pines, no, more than three, but the others are too far away to count for sure.

Perpetual Christmas in Rovaneimi, Finland
The train appears to be slowing but the Christmas card scenery continues. Another frozen river but we're in a small village or town with industrial buildings, not many, but a few and then they are gone and the forests return along with the wind towers, their slowly rotating blades adding to the surrealism of the scene. I would love to be up front in the cab of the locomotive pulling this very long train behind me, but I'll settle for my current predicament marvelling at the passing pines, the occasional chocolate box houses, the ghostly silver birch, the Christmas trees and, of course, the snow. How cosy it must be to sleep in these little houses. Everything is so still and quiet and deserted. 

It's almost 0600hrs, 0552 to be precise, it's brighter now and somewhere there's a winter sun casting its beam on the pines, turning them a fiery, burnt orange. No wonder the Finnish people are the happiest in the world, I think to myself. It's a shame to have to consider leaving my seat by the window, but I need to check out the facilities, see if there's any hot water, check out whether the shower actually works. A small village appears, a road sign that I can't read and in the distance two large buildings bathed in sunlight. We go under a road bridge, there's a gas station, Teboil and now we're somewhere fairly big, I spot a man standing by a building, there are more sun-tinged buildings, we're at Kemi, a mining town, platform 2, and people are boarding, I hear the doors sliding open and then closing. Oh to get out and wander about, find a hotel, mooch around, drink some tea and do nothing. I see flats and question the need for balconies, although I suppose they're fine in the summer. The train is on the move again, it's slowly edging out of the station, which isn't really a station at all, there's no platform on my side, just piles of snow and yet there are still signs for platform 2 as we gently pick up the pace and leave Kemi behind us. I'm guessing that soon enough the pine forests will return. For now, though, another gas station, a block of flats, houses, a sign for Kivviko and for Marrtala, a grey and winding road, a lorry carrying logs, a bunch of small wooden houses and slowly the return of the forests.

Still light at 21.30 on Friday night...
The shower was what I expected: small, cramped, luke warm and just a trickle of water, but it did the job, although I worried after soaping myself that I'd be unable to wash it all off. I managed and probably stayed in there for longer than I originally anticipated. The heated floor made it all very cozy. I dried myself and now I'm sitting here again looking out on the passing pines and birch trees, we're back in the snow dome and the sun is out and lighting up the tree tops.

There's 25 minutes until we arrive in Rovaneimi. Outside the scenery remains the same but the sky is blue and the sun is out. My journey is nearing its end and soon I will reluctantly leave the train and continue my trip by car. I'm heading for a place called Tornio, which is some two hours away, but I am sure there will be more forests and more snow.

It's now Friday evening, 2243hrs to be precise and I'm staying at the Santa Claus hotel in Rovaneimi having spent most of the day in Tornio and it's a very pleasant hotel. The room is perfect and I'm looking forward to an early night. Just had dinner in Rosso, you can see it in one of the photographs above; it was a nice restaurant with a friendly waitress, I ordered pesto chicken and a decent no-alcohol beer, well, two of them, and rounded it off with a cappuccino, which was probably ill-advised, but I won't know about that until I try to get to sleep*. I'd imagine that I won't sleep as well as I did last night on the train from Helsinki – will I ever sleep as well again? – but right now I might watch some television, I've got a book to read and I'm feeling good and it's all to do with everything: the smooth flight, the amazing train journey and now the fact that I can chill, my work is done. The original plan had been to fly home tomorrow (Saturday 15 April) but because the only way I could return tomorrow was by flying business class for around £1,100  for a one-way trip with British Airways, it worked out cheaper to stay another night in Helsinki and fly back on Sunday evening. I won't get home until around 1700. It's annoying but there's not much I can do about it. I plan to mooch around Helsinki, drink coffee, read my book and generally take life easy. Right now, I'm signing off.

* It's 0428 and I'm awake and on the laptop, I've been lying there looking at the ceiling since 0324.

Click here for the most syncopated song... in the world!

Map of Finland

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Sunday, 28 August 2022

22 August 2022 - Flight AY1332 London Heathrow to Helsinki...

The taxi to Heathrow was fine. I was left alone, which is the main thing and that was thanks to the driver not being English and, therefore, not being a racist or a bigot, like some of the British taxi drivers I've experienced on past trips. Very little conversation passed between us and I was allowed to look out of the window and engage in my own thoughts. Perhaps that should be 'engage with my own thoughts'. I reached the airport with plenty of time to chill out before I departed, that is after passing through security, which is always very annoying. Fortunately, I didn't have to take off my shoes. That said, despite not having any metal on my person, the alarm still went off and I was forced to use the body scanner.

Flight to Helsinki...
Finding somewhere to eat did prove problematic as everywhere I had to queue. First at The Curator so I didn't bother; then at Caffe Nero so I gave that a miss and then I found no queue at Wagamama so I took my seat, decided on what I wanted to eat and waited for somebody to take my order; but they didn't so I upped and left and then found a table at a very pink and girly establishment, which had once been Oriel. I was, of course, in Terminal 3, but the restaurant in question was rubbish. A couple to my left were already moaning to the manager about the dry and stodgy nature of the baked goods they had purchased. I had ordered from a menu that I had to request otherwise I was supposed to scan a QR code on the table and use my phone. They couldn't be bothered basically to hand out menus and asking for one caused mutterings from the staff as if I'd asked for something over and above the call of duty. Expecting paying guests to rely upon technology is all about doing as little as possible for the customer... but still asking for the same money. From now onwards, I will always say that my phone is faulty; similarly for paying the bill: I'd rather use my credit card and no, I don't want them to email me a receipt, I want a paper one...go cut down a tree and make it snappy! Not really. Well, not really in the sense that I don't want them to cut down a tree, but that's about it.

Looking out...
I am now onboard the flight and tucking into my second bar of Fazer chocolate (a quality Finnish chocolate brand). This is also mildly annoying as I have been doing very well on losing weight and keeping fit, but this week I'm away from the bike and it looks as if I'll be forced to eat crap on the hoof, like most travellers find themselves doing. I'm not moaning about the chocolate, though, as it is fantastic. But let's get back to the weight loss. First, the cycling to and from work over the past few weeks: it's been great (as you know) and I've managed to lose around a stone, perhaps just under a stone. I'm now (or I was) just a pound or two over 12 stone, thanks to exercise and salads and not too many potatoes. Now I'm away for a week, I've left my shorts on the washing line back home and that means no exercise unless I buy some shorts and that, of course, depends on whether my hotel has a gym with an exercise bike. Let's see.

Nobody around...Finland population 5.5 million

Outside of the plane window I can see clouds below me and blue skies above. The flight time to Helsinki is two hours and 17 minutes and I must say that Finnair has been good. Friendly cabin crew, a vast improvement on British Airways and it has to be said they (the Finnish crew) have a far nicer attitude. I'm looking forward to reaching Helsinki as I'm meeting Illka, somebody I met in New Delhi in 2018. He works for a Finnish company called Pesmel - they're into 'material flow how' - and we're having dinner in town. Then I'm off to Sweden (Stockholm to be precise) where I am planning to interview two people individually about steel making technology. 

View from Room 602, Scandic Paasi
The plane is big, an Airbus 350-900 and I am sitting in seat 23a, there's only one other person in my row and he's in the aisle seat, which means there's a much welcomed space between us which I'm sure we both appreciate. As I write this, we have been in the air for just over one hour which, if you'll excuse the pun, has flown by. The scenery outside the plane hasn't changed much, which is fine by me and there's little else to do other than write or read. Looking at the map, we're over Copenhagen at the moment and there must be around one hour and 15 minutes left before we land. Once on the ground I'll make my way to the hotel, the Scandic Paasi, and see what the situation is with regard to the gym. All the recent cycling to work has made me a bit of a fitness freak and now that I'm losing so much unwanted weight I want to keep it off, hence the possibility that I might need a pair of shorts if there's a gym and an exercise bike.

The flight is very serene, people are relaxing, there's little conversation, babies must be sleeping, adults reading or watching movies, it's great. I can see land below me and sea; I wonder if the Danish government has dumped loads of shit and other sewage in the sea. Somehow I doubt it very much.

Deserted platform...
There's about 30 minutes to go before we land. I'm always looking at the map and watching as the little plane (the plane on the map, that is) makes its way towards Helsinki. The descent has started and we're 15 minutes ahead of schedule. The temperature in Helsinki is 21 degrees and, as the pilot said, the sun continues in Finland. The in-flight service has come to an end, not that i was going to order more chocolate. The skies below us are clear and blue and I'm looking forward to being on the ground. If there's a minibar in my hotel room I won't be using it. The last time I was in Helsinki was in February 2020, just ahead of lockdown. Back then, it was cold and unbearable to be outside for more than a few minutes. Knowing that the weather was going to be pleasant I considered a wander around the city for a to see if I could find where I was the last time I was here, but time caught up with me. I wish I had booked the ferry from Helsinki to Stockholm instead of the flight as that would have been good fun, but I didn't think, which means another, albeit short flight tomorrow. Outside it didn't look as if we had descended at all. We were, however, flying at 41,000 feet. I would have to wait until the stats appeared on the screen in front of me. 

'We will land soon' said a recorded voice. As I suspected the clouds  reappeared. We are now at 20,000 feet so we've come down a long way, it just didn't look that way. Actually, perhaps it did as those clouds I'd been looking down upon were now much closer so perhaps I simply wasn't paying attention. There was only 15 minutes of the flight left but I wondered if they could get all that way to the ground in such a short space of time? It's a thought I always have at this stage in any flight and, quite frankly, it never ceases to amaze me. I could see lakes below. Quite a few lakes. It was a fairly clear day and I could see roads and houses. "Landing in 10 minutes," said the captain, but it still seemed impossible that we would be on the ground in such a short space of time. I could make out apartment blocks and even an airstrip. There was the odd rogue cloud and a hazy mistiness as the plane descended. Fields, fir trees, forests, the plane banked left a little making me wonder whether the airport I saw earlier was, in fact where we were landing. More banking left. I could see cars on the roads now as the plane straightened momentarily before banking left again. My seat (23a) was right on the wing. To my left I could see the sea, the undercarriage was now down and the plane was almost gliding to the ground. I could see back gardens and forests and industrial buildings, car parks, four-lane highways and we were on the ground, engines switched to reverse thrust, we had arrived in Helsinki and slowed to a virtual halt as we began to snake our way towards the terminal building.