Helsinki!

 Helsinki

Of the many admirable qualities of the Finnish system, efficiency ranks near the top of the list.  After landing was a relatively painless succession of airport navigation (aided by ubiquitous signage and sensible iconography), a quick and efficient line at customs, collection of our luggage, and then down the escalator to the metro station.  We were staying near Helsinki’s central rail station (Rautatieasema) and there is a train that directly connects it to the airport.  The train had abundant storage for our many bags, and the forty minute trip passed pleasantly.

It was maybe a six block walk from the railway station to our hotel (the Scandic Kaisaniemi).  The walk was made a bit more difficult by Helsinki’s beautiful cobblestone streets, with which our roller bags did not entirely agree. 

We checked into our rooms in the early evening.  We were in sort of a weird spot.  We had just slept so we were not especially tired.  But we had only slept a little bit –  and somewhat uncomfortably at that – so we were exhausted without really being tired.  We also needed to try to get on Finnish time (which is Eastern European Standard Time for those interested).  So we knew we had to stay up a little bit.  We went across the street to get pizza. 

Pizza in Finland is interesting.  It’s thin crust.  They often don’t cut it for you.  And everyone gets a whole pie.  We always get the strangest looks for sharing.  We had a delightful pizza and salad outside in the warm August air on a busy Helsinki street.  The kids’ pizza was even shaped like a bunny.

And drank two entirely mediocre cocktails.  

Then it was back to Finnish Target (Tokmanni but they use the exact same symbol) to buy a hybrid pencil pouch/stuffed animal dog that Oscar had fallen in love with and couldn’t live another moment without.  #thingsyouneverdreamedofdoinguntilyoubecameaparent.

Then it was back to the hotel.  At this point we were tired tired.  So we fell into a peaceful sleep.  For three hours.  Then we were all awake, lying in bed staring at the ceiling.  Telling the kids that they could not wake up every 10 minutes.  Until we let them wake up for an hour, then forced them to come back to bed for a “sleep break.”  It was a sort of brutal cycle.  But there were highlights.  The television in our room didn’t work (or we were too tired to figure out how to work it) so we found other things to do.  The kids spent some of their time sitting up in bed drawing.  

And our room had a beautiful view of the street – we spent time watching the city sleep, the tranquility occasionally punctuated by a passing mostly empty tram or group of twenty-somethings on the way home from the nightclubs.  

It was serene and replicated the dream-like liminal space in which our jetlagged bodies and minds existed.

And eventually we all fell back asleep.  

Haha.  Oh wait.  No we didn’t.    

Hei Hei