Wednesday 16th: Getting to Helsinki

I slept through my alarm this morning. Noo! I would not be able to buy the gloves first, like I'd planned last night. I think I still had enough time to get to the station in time if I left that feature out. I got a little bit ready and went out to get some breakfast. I wanted to fill up as much as possible so that I didn't have to buy too much expensive airport food.

I saw a few people while eating breakfast, and said my farewells. A few didn't realise I was heading off, so they were a bit shocked at my imminent departure.

I got my stuff ready and headed off. During the walk there, I had lots of layers of clothes on, ready for the cold. But it was comparatively warm in Nottingham, so I was getting very hot. It was quite uncomfortable.

I got there and managed to get my tickets collected at the machine. No trouble with the machines this day. I bought a croissant for 1 pound. The train journey was Nottingham to Manchester. Manchester to Manchester Airport.

The bag I'm living out of for the next 4-5 days. Normally it might be fairly easy. But I have lots of junk to keep me warm. So the bag is a big squeeze.

On the train. Hooray I made it.

I think this is going through the Peak District on the way to Manchester. But I'm not entirely sure.

We got to Manchester and I had to change trains to get to Manchester Airport. I'm still not really sure how it is supposed to work. When I ordered online it specified which company operates the trains that the algorithm had determined I was supposed to catch. I figured this may dictate where my ticket money goes, and therefore restrict me to those specific company's trains. All the screens only say the final destination of the train. So it is very confusing trying to find out which of the three 1:07 departing trains you're meant to take when it is only the second stop that you're interested in. I asked an employee and he frustratingly pointed toward a train. It wasn't the right time so I was confused. I missed that train and then rushed to a different platform where there was supposed to be another train. The stairs leading down to that station didn't seem to exist, so I missed it. At that point I decided to take whichever train to the airport I felt like, regardless of the company (I now theorize that that's what is supposed to happen). I got on one. When the guy checked my ticket a while later he had no complaints.

Eating place in Manchester Airport. It really does look like any airport.

I don't think the design of Manchester Airport is very good. It feels like a very spread out labyrinth. Lots of walking between places. After checking in I did a fair bit of waiting. The plane was a bit late but I finally got on. While I was lined up for the gate I was very worried about the size of my bag. They were making lots of people see if their bag would squeeze into the metal box dictating the acceptable size for carry-on luggage. If mine would fit in I think it would require some squeezing. Luckily they didn't ask me to do this.

I was flying with Easy Jet. It's a budget airline. There are no set seats. You sit where you want! First in gets best choise. I got to sit by a window. It was great.

I'm a bit tired here from all the waiting.

I think this is somewhere over the North Sea between the northern part of England, and Norway. The moon looks smaller than it was for some reason.

Compared to my last flight from Australia, this was very short. 2.5 hours. The sky turned to night as we were in the air. As we were descending I was wondering if there would be any snow around. As came down it became clear that this was an arctic tundra where snow is everywhere! It was very bizarre.

The passport guy was very friendly. He just asked a few casual questions, such as when I'm leaving the country again, and if I have warm clothes with me. No proof of exit plane flight. He let me through. Hooray!

I headed for the general exit area to try and figure out how to get to the city. Vantaa Airport (the main, or possibly the only Helsinki airport, I think) is, I think 15 or maybe 30 km north of the city. I stepped outside and it was really like being in a cold freezer. Gloves time. I heard some people talking with what sounded like a british accent, so I asked them if they knew the best way to get to the city. The guy blankly stared at me saying he didn't understand what I was saying. I heard then that he actually had a Finnish accent. Wow, I don't speak any of the language here. First experience being in a place where the common language is not known to me. It feels really weird and I'm feeling a bit embarassed for assuming that he'd be able to understand me.

The scene that greets me as I step outside. I think it is probably -18 or so here. When I got out here, my lungs started to hurt. I thought it might be air pollution, but I think it might actually be something to do with cold air hurting the lungs. That's mostly a guess though.

I saw a younger guy with airport clothes on. He understood english. Yay! For some reason I thought I'd read that there was a train. He told me that it's coming in 2014. There were two different busses that would get me there, though. I waited at the place for the cheaper one. There was a whole lot of ice on the ground. You have to be careful while walking or you can slip over (I became more used to the ice, but at first it is very different). The bus was going to be 20 minutes. The other, slightly more expensive bus arrived at the adjacent bus stop. I decided I'd pay a bit more and get out of the cold. It was 5.9 euro instead of 4 euro.

Sitting on the bus, looking out at where I was standing. It is very cold out there.

I saw lots of amazing snow along the way. I was quite happy with it.

The bus driver was the type that, although you can see that the car in front is braking and slowing down for a long time, will continue at the same speed, quickly decreasing distance until there are only metres to spare before deciding to also brake. Crazy drivers! The bus was warm, though. I got to Helsinki Railway Station.

My view right after I got off the bus. I'm on some other planet.

Now I had to play the game of 'find which way I'm facing in relation to the map I have'. I did a little bit of wandering and then found the cornerstone of fine cuisine, McDonald's. They helped me out with my location on the map and now I had a great idea of which direction I had to go in. They told me that I can't really walk the distance I was intending, and that I should instead catch the number 4 tram which stops just outside the shop. I thanked them and went out. It looked like the number four may not arrive for quite some time, while I stood in the below freezing cold, and I wouldn't be sure where to get off anyway. I decided to walk. It would be fine.

There is a bike submerged in a few feet of snow.

The Harbour. It's all iced over!

I found my way there really well. It wasn't far at all. I got checked into the hostel. It was about 11 or 11:30pm by that time.

The room had just two beds and in the other was a 45 year old Russian man who checked in at the same time. I think he told me that he is a professor of engineering, possibly of the construction type. He didn't speak English and I don't speak Russian, so communicating was difficult. However, he was enthusiastic, and we had a very basic conversation via hand gestures and miming. He gave me a tourist nicknack he'd bought while in Paris. It's a keyring of the Eiffel Tower. He offered me some of his Belgian Chocolate. It was good. He also offered me some of his whiskey. I don't like it, so I refused. He managed to drink half the bottle during our brief conversation, and he was getting fairly drunk. I locked my bag and stuff in a cupboard provided and got into bed for some sleep.

A few times during the night I woke up, in the typical half-asleep-delirious way, and saw him staggering about and sometimes hovering over me a bit in a strange way. Later I woke up to the sound of him shaking the doors of the cupboard I had my stuff locked in. I looked up a bit, gesticulating a friendly "hey, cut that out buddy. Don't be trying to get into my stuff" and he seemed to be saying that he'd lost his door card and was trying to find it. The language barrier and his drunkenness let him gloss over this implication that he thought I'd stolen it and stashed it in the cupboard for some reason.

He motioned that he was going to the bathroom, and so he'd just leave the door open a bit so he could get back in when he returned. While he was gone, I turned on the light and wandered over to the area I would usually keep it. I saw it there poking out from under his pillow. When he came back I pointed it out to him and smiled a bit. He apologised for his drunkenness and I said that it was all alright.

The next morning I made a big effort to sleep in so that he'd be gone by the time I got up. I succeeded in doing that.