HD4: Helsinki and Turku, Finland

6.11.2012 This morning at 8, we boarded our ferry to Helsinki, Finland. The “ferry” was more of a small cruise liner, with multiple floors, bars, restaurants, and casinos. As I had only slept a few hours the night before and the rocking of the ship made me nauseous, I took a glance at the Baltic Sea (grey, really big, and bumpy) and found a bench by a window to curl up and catch a few winks. Before I knew it, we docked at Helsinki. I expected to go through customs and get my passport stamped, but, to my disappointment, we were not detained by any customs guards: we simply walked off the ship and into Finland. In fact, instead of being greeted by guards, we were welcomed by an icy wind and sleeting sky. Within minutes of standing outside trying to orient ourselves, my fingers and nose were painfully cold. However, I braved the cold in order to hold the map of the city where I could quickly reference it. Dragging our suitcases behind us, we hiked past the wharf, old brick warehouses, the largest Russian Orthodox cathedral in Helsinki, the royal palace that overlooks the bay, and the main shopping district. Our destination was the train station, where we would meet our Russian coordinator, Guyla, and find our tour bus. En route to the train station, we passed an H&M—one of our favorite places to shop, so we had to go in—and souvenir shops. It was nice to get out of the bitter cold. When we arrived at the train station, we struggled to find Guyla due to the lack of proper directions as to where we were meeting. Finally, we met her and she led us to the tour bus. We would be joining a Russian tour through Scandinavia; Sasha, a soft-spoken (rare), bearded (not so rare), bilingual (rare-ish) Russian (lately, they’re everywhere), who translated what he said in Russian to English, was our tour guide. He took on a bus tour of the city—again, it was a relief to get out of the unexpectedly awful Finnish weather: our first stop was the Helsinki Cathedral, which is the Finnish Evangelical Lutheran cathedral of the Diocese of Helsinki, located in the centre of Helsinki, Finland. The church was originally built from 1830-1852 as a tribute to the Grand Duke of Finland, Tsar Nicholas I of Russia. It was also known as St Nicholas' Church until the independence of Finland in 1917. Originally the church was Orthodox (cited from Wikipedia). As we only had ten minutes here, Alicia (a girl from Moscow 1) and I decided to dash through the square and up the countless intimidating stone stairs to the cathedral and take a glance inside. As the cathedral is Evangelical Lutheran, its interior was dramatically different from the cathedrals we are used to exploring: the walls were not covered in murals; there were no gilded frames, no shining icons, just pristine white pillars, wooden pews, white walls, all directing the eye to the beautiful mural of Christ on the domed ceiling. It was a beautiful, simple cathedral. Alicia and I then proceeded to dash down the stone staircase, which, in retrospect, was an incredible unintelligent idea as they were stone and it was sleeting: at one point, I slipped and literally probably almost died. God knew that I was meant for more than to die by my own stupidity (though, if you’re going to die, it might as well be in an interesting way, like slipping down the stone staircase of the Helsinki Cathedral in Finland), and I came out unscathed. Next stop was Sibelius Park. Lonely Planet’s description is thus: “At lovely Sibelius Park you'll find a steel monument to the great Finnish composer. The organ-like cluster of steel pipes is said to represent the forest. This kinetic modern sculpture was created by artist Eila Hiltunen in 1967 to honor Finland's most famous composer, Jean Sibelius. Born in 1865 in Hämeenlinna, Sibelius wrote music for the glorification of his own people and in defiance of the oppressor, Russia. His most famous composition, Finlandia, came to represent Finnish patriotism and pride. Hiltunen's innovative abstract structure was designed to blend with the natural surroundings. Appropriately for a monument to a composer, the sculpture creates its own music - the hollow stainless-steel pipes echo with the movement of the wind.” It was really quite incredible—I’ll post pictures on my blog. Next was the Temppeliaukio Church, otherwise known as the Church of the Rock, or the Rock Church. This is a Lutheran church building made mostly out of rock and a glazed wood ceiling. Exclusive of the magenta upholstery, the interior causes one to feel like they are outdoors or in a well-lit cave; it’s amazing. An elderly man played the organ and the music filled the vast, circular room with hauntingly beautiful melodies: due to the exposed rock surfaces, the church has excellent acoustics and is often used as a concert hall: over half a million people visit it annually. As this was the last stop, our bus returned to the train station and we were allowed two hours of free time to wander the city. Carrie, Alicia, Ally, Shelley, Whitney and I had been planning our next destination all day: food, wherever and however it could be attained—we hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before in Estonia. We found an indoor food court and ordered burgers and fries from a Nigerian man with dreads who called me “darling” at Hesburger, Scandinavia’s popular fast food chain. Once we were full and warmish, we wandered the main shopping street until it was time to return to the bus. My favorite thing in Helsinki was probably the sculpture; but to be completely honest, I was kind of disappointed with my experience in Helsinki. The city, while attractive, looks just like any normal large city. If it hadn’t been so miserably cold and wet, I probably would have a different opinion, though. I hoped that our next trip to Helsinki on the return journey would redeem it. By the time we were sufficiently dry and comfortable on the bus, we arrived in Turku, the old capital of Finland. Although I had heard so much about Turku from a friend who served his mission in Finland, we only had time to visit the Turku Cathedral, which is the Mother Church of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland, and the country's national shrine. It was built in the 13th century; most of it is original, though it was badly damaged by a fire in 1827 that destroyed 75% of the city. It’s a gigantic, awe-inspiring building with a domed ceiling as high as the heavens and massive pillars. While many of the paintings have been refurbished, the few originals are faded almost out of existence. The ambience within the walls of this giant was solemn and overpowering; I was left speechless. Finally, we were directed back into the bus, which drove us across town. As it was after dark, my view of the city was unfortunately limited, but it only took us a few minutes before we were at the pier. Again, I was speechless as I beheld our place for the night: a monster cruise liner that glittered on the water like the Titanic. I’ve never been on a cruise liner, but I suppose the best place to have a “maiden voyage” is in Scandinavia! After we dropped off our bags in our tiny quarters (with enough room for two bunk beds, a small closet, smaller vanity, and a teeny bathroom) and cleaned up, we decided to explore the ship. We went up to the “sun” deck and braved the bitter cold to snap a rather embarrassing “jumping” picture, and then we wandered the restaurants and bars. One had a bunch of old couples rocking out to classic rock and tables full of men with European swag; another had a Polish guitarist named Jaco that sang us American classic rock and told us funny stories. Soon, I found myself drifting so we returned to our cabin to shower and sleep. In the morning, we would be in Sweden—and I would fall in love.