Finlandia and the Atlantic Crossing

The Helsinki Cathledral, taken from Senator Square in Helsinki, Finland.

I've always seen myself as a fairly experienced traveler, more or less. I've been to a fair amount of places and my beloved red duffel bag has seen plenty of hard service.

Regardless of the time spend abroad in the past, however, I found myself wildly apprehensive prior to takeoff in Seattle. Heck, the nerves hit about halfway between my mom's house and the Seattle airport, sending my mind into a frenzy.

"I'm sure I've forgotten something important," I thought to myself. "I won't be able to get my boarding passes, the plane will leave without me and I'll be stuck just a few hundred miles from home."

The feeling of dread grew the closer the three of us -- my mom, girlfriend Alexis and I -- got to my departure, and by the time we reached the terminal, I was in a daze. I grabbed my things, said a quick goodbye to both parties and headed for the kiosk with my passport in hand, hoping things would work out.

And from that point forward, smooth sailing. Or flying, as it were. The flight from Seattle (6 a.m. isn't usually a time I'd find myself awake) went off without a hitch, and about a hour after I arrived in Chicago, I met up with five other friends with whom I would make the long flight to Europe.


The second flight, though considerably longer, was also calm and enjoyable. By chance, I happened to get a seat in the cluster of friends, and was surrounded by fellow members of Unistus for the eight hour flight over Canada, Greenland, the arctic circle and -- though it seemed an age since we'd left the friendly confines of the United States -- Finland.

That's where things began to get interesting. Real interesting. The airport just outside of Helsinki has American Airlines as one of its' main carriers, so the terminal is full of both English and Finnish instructions. The oddest thing I discovered, after waiting around to pick up my checked duffel back, was the bathrooms. In what seems an effort to make the restroom feel more green and earth-friendly, the Fins had decked the walls with pictures of trees and grass, which might have been perfectly normal except for the sounds of chirping birds and a light breeze they had echoing through the facilities.

With the post-flight freshen-up out of the way, I moved to find sustenance. The kind lady at the Starbucks, which didn't have raspberry syrup but did offer a delightful array of cheesecakes,  gave me a basic time table and cost estimate for how long it might take me to reach the ferry terminal in downtown Helsinki: about 15 minutes, and five euros.

The problem was, I misunderstood about where to catch  that darned bus. The 615, which travels from the airport to the train station in Helsinki city center, was nearly impossible to find. At first glance (I might have been wrong) I didn't see a stop at the terminal, so I walked in the general direction I thought the bus stop might be in.

Half an hour later, after walking close to a mile with around 50 pounds of luggage and garments, confidence and a sense of adventure began to shift toward despair. My shoulders hurt, I had no idea how much further the bus stop was, and none of the English speaking people seemed to have a better understanding than I did.

I eventually stopped in a little shop just off the main road and asked, and was told in broken English to "go over the road, bus to Helsinki train, it there." I headed for the overpass a few hundred yards away, stopping to talk briefly with a Portugese man about the world cup and eventually walked up a little access pathway to see what was on top of the overpass.

There it was, across six lanes of traffic: my stop, and the bus pulling out of it. I waited for a break, and ran, skipping through the rocky median with a little luck, but missing the bus. Still, I was in the right place. I think.

A few moments later, a young Finnish man by the name of Joakim wandered up to the platform and confirmed that I was, indeed, in the correct spot. When the next bus came by, he even stepped out to wave it down for me.

Except the bus driver ignored him and kept driving, bringing a streak of Finnish and English curses from Joakim. 15 minutes later, we were both ready and finally jumped on the bus bound for the center of Finland's capitol.

For  the first few minutes, it looked like any other European suburb. The signs looked funny, but at least they drove on the correct side of the road. As time passed, the buildings grew older. The streets grew narrower, and by the time the driver finally stopped Railway Square in the heart of the city, I was fairly awestruck. On one side of the square stood the Finnish National Theatre, with a monstrous museum as it's counterpart across the way.

I walked to the east in search of my ferry terminal, and happened upon the gorgeous Helsinki Cathedral and Senate Square, full to the brim with visiting tourists. I stopped to rest my shoulders and took a handful of shameless Euro-selfies before heading to the south, where I found the terminal. 

I currently have built myself a nest in the corner, which is the only place I can plug in my adapter to power my laptop and charge my nearly useless phone. Helsinki has free WiFi (get with it, Portland), allowing me to upload a few early e-souvenirs while I wait for the ferry to board just before 2 p.m. local time. I'll be on the ferry for around 90 minutes before arrival in my final destination and a place that's been exciting my imagination for the last five years.

Look out, Estonia.

Just for fun, here's a video of Joakim, who helped me to find the correct Helsinki-bound bus and gave me his card after we both hopped off in Railway Square.