Finland, again.
As a zealot pilgrim I reach the airport very early. 3AM.
Airports feel like home. Tired people, farewells, hopes. Check-in, security controls. I am not afraid of security controls, when I am not violating rules: on the contrary, I almost feel proud of being searched personally, of being looked at, asked to take off my belt, and checked. After all, they are caring for our safety, right?
Finnish people start queuing already 45 minutes before the gate opens, and scared italians follow, at safe distance, the pale tall people.
A flight like many others. I know that every single flight has a little wonder, be it for good or bad: a particular landscape, a fire dawn, or just a peculiar hostess. This one had its own.
And Finland again. The refreshing snow, the -3 degrees, the white. Italians on a bus, totally bewildered, with a finnish girl acting as a guide: this is my first company.
The bus eventually leaves me at the usual destination: Tampere. The bridge, the square.
Good old people for a totally new Silvester. It is my first time that I spend my second most hated holiday (the first being carnival) abroad. What does "abroad" mean anyway...
Languages give our characters consistency, depth. A man who speak Danish must then be Danish, so that Denmark is the only place where he can be. If we would all speak the same language, our identities would melt much more easily.
Back to Finland. More weird finnish food - I love it! - and more experiences.
A- The cold. How many pakkasta (below zero) degrees can a foreigner survive? With decent gear - which means, I didn't go shopping at "North Pole TM", just wise winter clothes - I pushed my way through -11 totally fine. I can't breathe deeply though: the air causes me to cough. Humidity created by the breathing process quickly turn into real water inside your nose. At extremes temperatures, exposed body part don't feel cold; they only loose sensitivity.
B- Skiing. Not downhill skiing, but hiihtää, on borrowed sukset. I never tried before, and of course, I sucked; I never fell though, and this made me decently proud.
C- Ice Skating. What could be more crazy for an outlander than sliding on two long bars with the help of stick? Sliding on the ice on two thin blades without any other help. Ice skating for me is as safe as a holiday in Iraq. Nonetheless I bravely managed to circle several times the track. And it was total fun!
That came before moving. Before taking a whole room and life possession, pile them in a truck, wake up at 5AM, travel 6 hrs on the said truck and bring out the worldy possessions inside a second floor apartment.
And that came before surviving, only for a couple of minutes, the -20.
Now I am in Vaasa, and of this, I shall write more soon...
Munnin.
