A Spontaneous Adventure to Stockholm (Part 1)

(I know, I know, it was ages ago, and I just haven't got round to sorting the pictures and writing about it. Sorry Scott.)

This might be useful to follow the story too...

'Hey, wana go to Stockholm?', 'When?', 'How bout the day after tomorrow?', 'Okay.'

Due to the awesome convenience of the distance between Turku and Stockholm and the fact that you can sleep on ferries, meant that we left at 9pm on the 20^th of October and arrived at 6.30am (-ish, it was early, I don't remember) on the 21^st, in Stockholm, with a full day ahead of us. We couldn't drop our bags at the hostel until 8am, which was fine because we managed to get lost finding it and rocked up some time after 8. Such a nifty hostel - chilled out atmosphere, shoes off at the door, vintage all sorts scattered about the place, and a kitchen and beds nicer than my Turku stuff.

It was this dark when we arrived...

Lighter, we headed South. It was a perfect day, clear and cold and bright. The morning was spent meandering and getting lost, crossing islands with out realising and eating ham (chicken) sandwiches and Moomin sweets and enjoying the coastal location. The architecture of Stockholm is amazing, very fairy tale – Hansel and Gretel style gingerbread houses, especially on Gamla Stan.

 (For Lucy)

 We're not so hot on Stinky in the bag of Moomin sweets - he's salmiakki.

So yes, we wandered a lot, down quaint little back streets and walking to museums that were still shut because it was so early. Then we came across a postcard perfect square (really, you can buy postcards of it). As we walked towards the building we noticed one seemed to have the word (or letters that amount to the word) 'chocolate'. Inside was a dimly lit, low ceilinged room; tiny tables with candles and chairs that looked too small to sit in. There wasn't much hesitation about what we wanted - hot chocolate was a must. Scott went for white chocolate and white chocolate cheese cake, and I went for the darker counterparts (except I had this chocolate ball thing that was incredibly rich). What followed were practically soup bowl of the liquid, I couldn't even finish it. (Notice how as soon as there's food involved I can talk for hours...)

 The little yellow one on the right is where we turned into chocolate

 LUNGE!

Changing of the guards and the like was next. Interesting and yet something I will probably not remember in a years time. Nice to have seen it though.

Boat trip. This could have not been more perfectly timed. By 2 o'clock we were crashing slightly, so a two hour seat on a pretty cosy boat was well appreciated. A lovely little British man spoke into our ears as we went under the bridges of Stockholm and learned a lot about it's history. A very worth while touristy thing to do.

 Swedish puffer fish dontcha know

 The big white boat is a hostel - how cool.

And finally, our cubby hole bunk beds! Free pasta scoffed, naps had, 45 minutes in the sauna and we were ready to bounce again, so we headed upstairs to the party the hostel was throwing to celebrate their new reception - which looked mighty fine. Cheep beer and a few new friends were made. It was your usual hostel/travel chat, but I did have a Mrs. Doubtfire off with one of our room mates!

To be continued... 

Reflection

I'm not going to write about what you all what to hear. I still owe a post on Stockholm, and another City of Culture event I went to – but now is not the time.

It is hard to know, or decide, how honest or bare or truthful I want to be when I'm writing to you all. Some of you know me better than others and some of you don't know me at all. Writing things here leaves the emotions detached. Is it worth even saying how I'm feeling? Will it be perceived and translated the way I intend?

I'm a little scattered. I have so much on my mind. I am beyond worrying, it's a state of being that I outgrew some years ago (unless it comes to missing buses, but that's a whole bunch of other stories...). At this very point in time I am in a moment of suspension – I choose to take no action.

You learn by failing. I'm still at the bottom of the hill, only just now figuring out how I should tackle it, whilst everyone else is already halfway up. I almost want to opt out of my class now. I want to say, okay, I have learned about the industry, and even more about myself, that was the point of the exercise, to learn, so can I start again? Have a do over?

I really have learned more about myself than anything else. I've learned that I thrive in a creative environment. In fact I don't just thrive, but depend on it. Some one noted that I had a lot of stuff in my room here. Stuff. Now, this can be interpreted in two ways. The usual and immediate thought has connotations of consumerist behaviour – that I like to buy things. Which I don't. I don't need the comfort of stuff – but I kind of do. I need the visual stimuli. A white blank room would strip my soul – I strive to combat monotony. Designing requires you to look at what is being seen and take it apart, put it back together, stick it with something else or turn it upside down. How can you do that if you cannot see it, touch, break it, fix it?

So this creative environment. It's kind of lacking here. Which makes me different. People who don't speak English as a first language have expressed to me that they are a different person in English. In their mother language they are witty, or funny, or clever, but cannot translate this into English. To me this seems painfully sad – personality does not translate. Thinking about it, I think creativity is my strongest language, and with very few people around who speak it, it's difficult to express that side of me. It's like hibernating an aspect of you character – you are not a whole, but a facet of you.

It has been a roller coaster of extroversion and introversion here too. (Does that make sense?) There are nights where you are thrown head long into the open, having to navigate a new field - people and places you don't know. It's quite a self affirming thing to do, a domino effect of confidence ensues. And then there are spells of detached activity. Sitting in my now not too white box, communicating – or not – through a representation of me. Computers, facebook, emails, skype – these blessed curses that we love to love and love to hate. We praise them and shun them, but would be nearly, and in some cases literally, be lost with out them. I don't like being dependant, and the idea that I need a computer, or access to a social forum is dispiriting. I don't think I'm over exaggerating when I say 'need' either. I don't think you'd be attending many of the umpteen ESN events or parties if you did not have access to a facebook, or to some one who did. Spells of not quite loneliness and not quite boredom pass over, broken up by the penning of to do lists that become a measurement of the passing of time.

It's easy to complain, and I try not to. I don't want this to become a place where I rant about how I much don't want to do something, or how unfair something was. (Life isn't fair – my favourite lesson from childhood, because it is true, and you shouldn't try to change the fact.) That's not productive. To be productive you must be able to get something out of it. So look for a way. Find what you need from it. Be objective and reflective to truly learn from something. Don't just state the facts, or your view of the facts, and move on. That's not how it works. It's difficult to view yourself in an objective manner. Surely it's practically impossible? But there is still gain to be had from trying.

Trying. I guess that brings me back to the present. I say I have learned my lesson and want to walk away from it, but again, that's not how it works. Like it said, life isn't fair. (If it was fair some one would be holding my hand and telling me what a pretty picture I'd made. Do I really want that...?) You have to keep trying and pushing, life isn't about speed, but endurance (a cliché, I'm aware, but aren't 'clichés' clichés for a reason?). Coming out the other side 'a better person' (barf) Note. I am not 'putting up' with something here. There is a difference between enduring a struggle and 'putting up' with unnecessary pain or sadness. Learn the difference, you'll see it there.

My task now, aside from all of the obligatory, university related things, is to conjure a creative environment for myself. A little late in the game, I know.

When Lilias Came to Town...

...All hell broke loose. The inner freak became the outer us.

I don't know whether to tell you everything or just tell you nothing, and leave you with the knowledge that my siblings mean more to me than pretty much anything else in the world.

It was to be a Thursday (13^th) to Sunday (16^th) morning visit. We wasted no time and headed for to Bossaliina, the cutest coffee place in town (think miss matched chairs and a gold bathtub seat – oh yeah) where cookies were consumed, Chai teas supped and endless old jokes were resurrected. Some wandering, a little history and geography lessons carryied us to the language café evening I had to attend for class. I was schooled in French (horrifically intimidating – I praise all ye non-native English speakers, you do a mighty fine job!) and Lilias 'taught' English. They really shouldn't have bothered with an English table, pretty much everyone can speak it well enough to get by. Our dinner of an attempted and slightly failed Spanish omelet was overshadowed by the hilarity that ensued – more general haha and 'Anchorman', you really can't go wrong there. I'd say who needs food when you have laughter, but I do really like food... The jury is out on that one.

Friday was cinnamon rolls and coffee for breakfast, followed by a little trip to uni where I introduced Lilias to the sofa (the only sofa, may I add, that comes near to my rear, as my flat has only picnic bench style seating – boo) while I... who knows, but I didn't learn anything. Next port of call was the Art Museum that stands majestically on the top of a hill. We managed to wangle free entrance 20 minutes before everybody else, so got to peruse some very fine Finnish art with out the crowds that seemed to appear by the time we made it to the Carl Larson exhibit downstairs.

The evening ended with a surreal bang – a 'puppet' show at an outdoor swimming pool. Yeah, you heard me right. The interpretive production of The Abduction of Europa went beyond my expectations – a table skilfully manoeuvred over the length of the pool on ropes; a giant moving beast; a woman raised from the water in a metal frame, hoisted to the top of the diving board; fire, sweet potatoes, big white clogs, clunky wooden puppets (the kind you thought of initially when I said 'puppet'), empty water bottles as flotation devices – seriously, you name it they thought of it and used it to it's utmost capacity. (And they provided blankets!) Reminded me a whole lot of Nowhere – a Dali-esque week I spent in the Spanish desert last July with 600 odd (in both interpretations) people. 

He spent most of the time in the pool

 

Saturday morning! More kahvi and cinnamon rolls and then we hit up the outdoor gym – it's totally my favourite visitors attraction now. And of course a mandatory visit to the second hand store. Next into town where we went to more junky places to ogle at the things we couldn't afford, or more, couldn't fit in our bags for the plane. In a double whamy we did Hesburger (Wait, you don't know about Hesburger?! It's a mayonnaisey fast food joint, with great fries, founded in Turku. Don't even bother mentioning the golden arches that cannot be named. They have maybe one? Down some back alley probably...) and then back to Bossaliina (it reminds me of my house, but more pop arty) for more tea and cake. We concluded our afternoon with a gander at the cathedral and a meander along the Aura. Then we sat and watched a man doing various tricks on a seatless bicycle – pretty nifty.

 

Spiders?

 

Phew, nope.

 

Sokos bag full of Fazer. The flavour hits you like a tazer.

 

Lilias – master graffiti spotter.

 

Some badass entertainment.

 

Next morning we were up at 5am and I was back to bed at 7.30am with Lilias safe and sound on the train back to Tampere with itchy feet and taste for Finland.