Helsinki the way I know it

Every morning I pack my notebook and papers, put on a coat and make sure that scarf securely protects my neck from the cold. Make sure the door is locked. Now I’m ready to face piercing wind coming from the sea. Wind shall not be a surprise, as I live right next to the harbor. Four weeks ago ferry brought my dog and personal belongings to that terminal. We’ve got the key for a small apartment that is called home, and begun an adventure under the code name “Finnish life”.

Ferry Helsinki-Tallinn. Rainy winter in Hel.

“Finns are unfriendly, reserved, and warm up only after unreasonable amount of alcohol while in sauna” – good people warned. Also, Finns never look each other in the eyes, and brace yourself if you dare to smile at someone. If you are lucky, the person would just be confused and feel invaded. If luck abandoned you, you are about to get raped or punched in the face – depending on broadness of your smile (and layers of clothes are you wearing). Should I mention that these are only few out of many stereotypes I had to listen to while packed bags to leave? No doubt, stereotypes can be useful, but not when they build Chinese wall between you and new culture, make you prejudice and hostile before you even get to know the place and people.

During the Summer 2014 I spent long time in Finland for the first time. It was hard not to notice that people in fact do look at each other – and not only on feet, but actually in the eyes. “It’s different in the big city!”. Not to argue, but no, it’s not different. Since day one in Helsinki, I noticed that people do establish eye contact, may even smile at you and it does not seem to be outrageous accident. 

The other day I took a detour from usual route home from university. The weather was surprisingly calm and warm. Many small shops and cafes, few cars on a road and occasional passersby. Walked slowly, exploring windows of shops that sells postcards, stuff for artists, ethnic accessories, and clothes, bakeries with their tempting looking cakes and pastry (oh how hard it was to force myself to pass them by without spending all money there!) when I caught a glance of a man, who was wiping the floor in one of the stores. He smiled. I smiled back. “Moi!” – he said, waving at me. “Moi!”. Turned back to see him still looking and smiling at me. Walked down Michelinkatu, getting closer to the place called home, a young man took off his old-fashioned hat to greet me. 

Maybe it was that kind of a day, or I bumped onto two out of three extraverts in the city, but small things make difference, difference on perspective and feeling about life in the place, about people and self. Smiles, friendly glances, greetings from strangers and silly jokes from a guy at the canteen – together it makes one feel accepted, welcome and home. Also, feels good to break couple stereotypes. :)


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Copenhagen: the capital of great coffee

Denmark is famous with Anderson, Kierkegaard, mermaid and pastry. Great as they are on their own, still the joy of experiencing all good thing gets fuller after a cup of rich, slightly bitter divine nectar we call coffee.

Copenhagen in november is not the warmest place on Earth, no matter what slippers- and shorts-wearing locals say. Running around in the misty, windy weather, – or cycling around, if you want to fit it completely, – at some point is going to bring up a desire to get a hot beverage in the system. If it’s still too early for mulled wine – whether it’s not a Christmas time yet, or simply too early in the morning, – the instinct would suggest a cup of coffee. Lucky are those coffee-lovers who inhabit Danish capital, as coffee shops treat them oh so well. 

On every corner you will see a bakery or a coffee shop: small ones, bigger ones, chain or “local” ones – for every taste, for any mood. One the door is open, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and pastry take you over. Just like Pandora’s box: once unlocked, you have to deal with consequences, such as lighter money pocket, and pants that are getting tighter every day. Unless you have an exceptional self-control, but who does when the smell is mouth-filling? Easy to accept this morning routine, and hard to give up.

On my first morning in Copenhagen I woke up in my tiny room in the Old Town, washed up and joined the stream of good sleepy copenhageners on their way to get the first cup of coffee and a freshly baked pastry from one of many coffee shops. My choice was one of the bakeries I discovered on some internet forum, and I wasn’t wrong with my choice. Can the morning start any better than with entering the place that smells like heaven on earth? Hardly. After a brief walk on cold and rainy streets of the old part of the town, the comforting feeling of warmth and the coffee-pastry smell welcomed me once I opened the door of my place of choice. Shelves full with various Danish pastry, and each piece is huge. Pretty barista served me perfectly-brewed double cappuccino, and left me to enjoy it with pastry that took ages to choose. Rich, velvety and mildly bitter taste of coffee, combined with merely sweet pastry set me on the wave of positive attitude and great motivation.

Other day I was leaving for Helsingør to see Hamlet’s castle, to be amazed how close Sweden is, and enjoy the town. So I picked the place that was the closest to my hostel. Despite an early hour, barista was so contagiously cheerful, that even if I wanted to, I would not be able to stay moody (I’m not the morning person, and in early hour of a new day I'd make the Grumpy cat look cheery compared to me). Great service, and strong, yet soft in taste, coffee and fresh pastry (although, unlike the first one, pastry for this place is baked elsewhere and delivered early in the morning, so can’t expect it to be warm)… Moments like these make good memories. Not grande, but those small pleasant ones we in the notebook, blog or in memos on the phone. Many mornings have passed since then, but I remember small tables by the window, passers-by with paper bags with pastry or bread in one hand, and sachets and laptop cases in the other one. The day ahead was as busy as ever – no one gets rid of work by going on vacation, not if you are a freelancer! – but for this short moment you know that all the rush, worries and planning can wait. 5 more minutes, please.

However, not all of my coffee-experiences in the great city of Copenhagen were positive. Being a passionate liquorice-lover, I try everything that has liquorice: from chocolate to ice cream, and now there is a coffee on that list. It was served in another chain coffee shop. Always crowded, it gained my trust, but never trust the pack! Instead of coffee late I’ve got late with close-to-no coffee, mixed with liquorice-flavored sirup. Disappointed, I had to comfort myself with traditional travelers food from Chinese bistro, which was, – unlike the coffee, – amazing. 

Probably, Copenhagen is one of the best places for coffee-lovers if not in the whole Europe, then in Scandinavia for sure. Coffee of various levels of strength, shades of aftertaste, and great mood that it necessary will bring to you. Especially, if comes with famous Danish pastry. But please, no matter what, don’t take that liquorice-flavored one – you deserve better. :)

Guilty pleasures: Starbucks and me

Just like everyone, I have my guilty pleasures, such as cheesy music from 90’s, unreasonable amounts of sweets in the evening, junk food for lunch, or gingerbread late and grande cappuccino from the soul-sucking corporation of Starbucks any time of the day. The place on the Central station in Copenhagen seem not to be amongst the most popular places to get coffee. Unlike in Helsinki, or even in the airport in Copenhagen, there never was a line, in fact, hardly ever there were more than couple travelers, killing time before the departure. So no wonder why barista remembered my order and my name by the third day. It didn’t make me feel less guilty about liking the drink a bit too much, but certainly increased the level of joy of drinking it from my to-go cup with the smiley next to my name. 

Whenever I have free time in Helsinki, or just want to work in a coffee shop like cool kids do, I go to the Starbucks, order grande cappuccino from the barista who, if I’m lucky, is going to spell my name correctly, take the place by the window. In winter you’d better pick a table in front of the bar, otherwise you will risk to freeze to death, or to catch some common cold, because doors get opened all the time and frosty air gets under your skin despite all the layers of woolen sweaters you are wearing. The noise of espresso machine, blender, cups, buzzing of many voices speaking different languages, being pushed from time to time, and drinking coffee out of a big white mug – that creates the special inspiring atmosphere in places like Starbucks. 

Tuesday was the first day in weeks when the Sun has finally appeared in this part of the globe. I took a walk down the Löönrotinkatu, enjoyed the city, before my legs got so frozen I couldn’t feel them. The Starbucks was full with the fashion and habit victims, enjoying their drinks. Among them, sitting by my favorite table, was a man with the  small, black notebook. Thin, probably tall from what I could tell from his posture, with goatee and mid-length, curly, dark hair. By the look at him, one could say the man was the embodiment of the stereotypes on poets or artists. Before I looked away, he made an unusual gesture: he put the pen in a bottle of quill, and started writing something down. 

Woman with a laptop, man with a tablet, woman with a newspaper, man with a magazine, girl with a player, boy with a phone – we are so used to combinations like this, we hardly ever pay attention anymore. In fact, we are one of them, too. A man with a bottle of quill and a feather-pen breaks the pattern. Almost like a flashback from another era, someone who hardly fits in this neurotic, rushing, tumultuous scenery. Anxious about fitting in, wearing right colors, cool laptop and the newest iPhone, reading trendy life-style magazines, and staying unique – we don’t leave any space for our true wishes, we don’t listen what we want, but rather what we have to want. Maybe that man is another lonely soul seeking for more attention, he is not authentic, but a poser, but still he made me wanted about what I truly want of this day? When sun sets down, and city falls asleep, where it leaves me, with my haves, musts, shoulds, and true desires. Maybe another cup of coffee will help me to find the answer.