The issue of travel has come from a potential event which didn't actually happen. The idea of going on a cruise was floated (sic.) last night, but it never really got off the ground. To 99,9% of the world's population, the word "cruise" conjures up images of cocktails, evening socials, outside swimming pools on deck, luxury cabins and sunrises in the Bahamas. To women with an active imagination, it also conjures up images of a short, dashing Scientologist who appears in action movies. The remaining 0,01% of the world's population, however, are Finns. The word takes on a slightly different meaning here. There are 2 choices from Helsinki - you get on a very large boat and go over to Sweden on an 18-hour-each-way sailing, with a potential stop to do nothing much in the Åland Islands on the way; or you go to Tallinn in Estonia which takes around 3 hours each way. There are no palm trees, no outdoor swimming pool and ladies in ballroom dresses don't sip expensive cocktails while chatting with gentlemen in tuxedos. The idea yesterday was to hop on a boat at 9pm tonight, return to Helsinki tomorrow afternoon, and in the mean time go over to Tallinn.
The first surprise to the outsider is that "going over to Tallinn" on this cruise, for a lot of people, does not actually involve going to Tallinn at all. The boat sails over, docks in the harbour, and people stay on the boat and get drunk. This is encouraged by the ferry companies and on this particular trip, even though the boat arrives in Tallinn at midnight, no one would be allowed off the boat until 8.30 the next morning. The advantage for others is that, given that people go on these boats with the sole aim of getting trashed, astronomical amounts of money are spent on booze. This drives ticket prices down and you can get over to Stockholm and back for as little as 25€, and to Tallinn for 10€ return.
The majority of people who disembark at the other end will go to the closest shop, stack up with Estonian price vodka and cigarettes, get back onto the boat and start drinking again, stopping only when the ferry arrives back in Helsinki. When the time comes to step back onto Finnish soil, you see a gang of Finns lined up like cattle in front of the door with trolleys specially designed to hold the maximum allowance of cigarettes and vodka. After they have smoked and drunk everything, they book another cruise to Tallinn. It's quite amusing and quite depressing at the same time.
Despite the enormous size of the boats (most of the friends I've had over to visit have been so amazed by the scale of the beasts that they've taken pictures of them) there really isn't all that much to do on them. The boats to Sweden, for instance, are on about 12 floors - mostly car parking spaces, cabins to sleep off hangovers, restaurants, bars and a nightclub to get pissed in and a duty free shop to buy booze and cigarettes in, and lines and lines of one-arm bandits and poker machines, seemingly to encourage kids to lose their money. Add to this the fact that the aforementioned bars and nightclubs are crap, and you suddenly find that joining the cattle in the duty free shop and getting sauced up and facing the prospect of wandering around Stockholm hungover isn't such an unattractive idea after all. In fact, it's almost compulsory to do so in order to divert your mind from jumping off the deck and swimming to shore just to give yourself something to do.
During the course of the trip, you'll probably see most, if not all of the following :
- A bunch of students dressed up as superheroes or wearing stupid wigs on a stag night
- A middle aged man/woman in a severe state of emotional decay, with the possible presence of tears and a consoling friend
- Someone wandering aimlessly along the cabin corridors, drunkenly staggering from one wall to the other
- Groups of people standing, not talking to each other (see most other posts for further details)
- A balding man in a suit desperately looking for younger female company
- Someone asleep on the floor
The slightly richer Finn takes these trips on Silja line, which is more expensive. I've never been with this company so I'm unable to comment on it but I'd imagine it's a higher class example of exactly the same thing. The much richer Finn will generally go on a package tour to Thailand, lie on the beach and come back with a tan and, in the case of single men, a wife. A Finn who goes anywhere else has undoubtedly declared him/herself to foreigners as "not the typical Finn" and, in my opinion, this isn't so far from the truth.
So to you all I would suggest the following - indulge yourself in the Finnish travel industry, hit the boats, go on a "cruise" - It'll probably be one of those things you'll be happy you did but won't be jumping to do again...
Jun 19, 2008
Jun 12, 2008
Sex Sells
It's gone 3am. I tried to sleep for 3 hours and gave up. Insomnia is something that isn't new to me so, even though it still bugs me, I look for the positives. Amongst them is that the hours spent lying around in bed can be used to think various thoughts. With Euro 2008 in full swing it's obvious that football will take up a lot of my cerebral wanderings but, as wonderful as it is, it can only take up a certain amount of time. The weather's gone bad here and so mosquitos and bikinis (c.f. previous entry) are nowhere to be seen, and so my mind has to go further for inspiration.
It came to my attention a few days ago that a guy in Finland, known as Teppo M, has written a blog called Sataa Naista (One Hundred Women). My Finnish isn't good enough to really get much of it but from what I know, it started with his breaking up with his wife and subsequent frustration that he wasn't getting any action. A drunken bet with a friend of his led to him waking up the next morning with a 10.000€ wager that he could sleep with 100 women in 1 year, and his blog chronicles his efforts. A look at the site leads one to two conclusions : Firstly, the blog is in Finnish, and therefore can only be reasonably read by Finns living here (of which there are just over 5 million), foreigners abroad who can speak Finnish (who I'd imagine are quite negligible in number) and Finns in the diaspora (who I'd imagine are also quite negligible in number). Secondly, the guy has received over 500.000 visits to a site he used at the beginning and was active on for only 3 months. All in all, from this lesser used site, he's had 2000 hits a day since he began. This compares with 1,95 a day for me. Call me a cynic, but would so many people be reading if he'd aimed to drink 100 different beers in a year, back 100 winning horses in a year, complete 100 Rubik's cubes in a year or, to go for something as difficult as he has, to learn to speak 100 languages fluently in a year ?
There's nothing really groundbreaking here - Internet + Sex = Readership isn't exactly a formula which would have Fermat or Einstein spinning in their respective graves but, at times where I can't sleep, it's a symptom of society's state which I'm interested in. I'd imagine that people read this kind of site for the same reason that they watch Big Brother or read about celebrities' secret confessions in glossy no-brainer magazines - to satisfy the voyeur inside themselves while safely at home which they'd generally deny the very existence of to the outside world. Here's something that might surprise all the same - and above all, it should surprise guys who have been trying to weave their magic in nightclubs - a survey has revealed that 25% of European women get drunk in order to increase their chances of getting sex !!! Having spent my fair share of nights out and about, I find that statistic extremely hard to believe. In my case it's certainly worked - the majority of my "conquests" I wouldn't have touched with a barge pole if I hadn't been drunk - but had I known what was coming those nights I'd probably have been on the lemonade instead.
As a closing statement to this subject, I'd like the wish Teppo M the best of luck. Having been single for more than a year while I've been here, women (read: people in general) in Helsinki's nightspots are generally antisocial or completely battered. Neither of my two successful sleazes here have been Finnish and even Ross, the man who gets all, failed here. It ain't easy.
And in order to keep you all interested and reading - I'm on 12 so far. That's an average of 1,5 a year since I started.
I'm off back to bed.
It came to my attention a few days ago that a guy in Finland, known as Teppo M, has written a blog called Sataa Naista (One Hundred Women). My Finnish isn't good enough to really get much of it but from what I know, it started with his breaking up with his wife and subsequent frustration that he wasn't getting any action. A drunken bet with a friend of his led to him waking up the next morning with a 10.000€ wager that he could sleep with 100 women in 1 year, and his blog chronicles his efforts. A look at the site leads one to two conclusions : Firstly, the blog is in Finnish, and therefore can only be reasonably read by Finns living here (of which there are just over 5 million), foreigners abroad who can speak Finnish (who I'd imagine are quite negligible in number) and Finns in the diaspora (who I'd imagine are also quite negligible in number). Secondly, the guy has received over 500.000 visits to a site he used at the beginning and was active on for only 3 months. All in all, from this lesser used site, he's had 2000 hits a day since he began. This compares with 1,95 a day for me. Call me a cynic, but would so many people be reading if he'd aimed to drink 100 different beers in a year, back 100 winning horses in a year, complete 100 Rubik's cubes in a year or, to go for something as difficult as he has, to learn to speak 100 languages fluently in a year ?
There's nothing really groundbreaking here - Internet + Sex = Readership isn't exactly a formula which would have Fermat or Einstein spinning in their respective graves but, at times where I can't sleep, it's a symptom of society's state which I'm interested in. I'd imagine that people read this kind of site for the same reason that they watch Big Brother or read about celebrities' secret confessions in glossy no-brainer magazines - to satisfy the voyeur inside themselves while safely at home which they'd generally deny the very existence of to the outside world. Here's something that might surprise all the same - and above all, it should surprise guys who have been trying to weave their magic in nightclubs - a survey has revealed that 25% of European women get drunk in order to increase their chances of getting sex !!! Having spent my fair share of nights out and about, I find that statistic extremely hard to believe. In my case it's certainly worked - the majority of my "conquests" I wouldn't have touched with a barge pole if I hadn't been drunk - but had I known what was coming those nights I'd probably have been on the lemonade instead.
As a closing statement to this subject, I'd like the wish Teppo M the best of luck. Having been single for more than a year while I've been here, women (read: people in general) in Helsinki's nightspots are generally antisocial or completely battered. Neither of my two successful sleazes here have been Finnish and even Ross, the man who gets all, failed here. It ain't easy.
And in order to keep you all interested and reading - I'm on 12 so far. That's an average of 1,5 a year since I started.
I'm off back to bed.
Jun 6, 2008
Fashion Review - 2008
Remember that 6-lane road I used to look at out the window ? These days it's been replaced by a small suburban car-park. It's hardly more inspiring but it's been absolutely drenched in sunshine over the last couple of days. According to the weather on TV yesterday I could stand up and say "I live in the hottest large European city aside from Athens, Istanbul and Malaga !". I wouldn't have believed a word of what I said but there we go. So, summer has arrived in Helsinki, finally. This unexpected situation led me to dig through my considerably small wardrobe to see what summer clothes I had. T-shirts are never a problem in this country as you have to wear 4 or 5 of them, ten months of the year. Besides those though, I discovered, I had one pair of shorts and no summer-friendly shoes. Having put on these shorts and promptly burnt a big hole in them with a cigarette, I came to a conclusion. It was time for me to go out and do something that has split the sexes more than anything in recent history - probably aside from the release of the Sex and the City movie - clothes shopping.
Anyone who knows, has known, has seen, or has vaguely heard of me will very well know that I'm not on the peak of the fashion iceberg, nor am I anywhere above the surface of the water. I am sitting on the ocean floor, chilling with the octopuses and platypuses, attempting to act as if fashion didn't exist or, if it did, was pointless. Now that I was forced to go and buy a pair of shorts though, I had to stare this issue in the face. Having perused shops all the length of Aleksanterinkatu and explored, in increasing states of desperation, the entirety of the Forum and Kamppi shopping centres, I sat, exhausted, on a pavement and rolled myself a cigarette with shaking hands, drenched in nervous sweat, dreaming of a utopian society where we could all walk around naked like our ancestors did without having to care what a bunch of fashion designers think we should all wear this year. My choices were, by and large, to pay large amounts of money for Hawaiian flower shorts, or to pay large amounts of money for a pair of 45-year-old-man-on-safari-in-Tanzania shorts. As I prepared to enter what I had decided what would be the last shop of the day, I noticed the greeting by the escalator:
FLOOR 6: Administration
FLOOR 5: Menswear (and outdoor Womenswear)
FLOOR 4: Womenswear
FLOOR 3: Womenswear
FLOOR 2: Womenswear
FLOOR 1: Womenswear
My mind went back over the nightmarish 2 hours I had just endured, and came to 2 conclusions. Firstly, a window on the 5th floor would be good to jump out of in case I didn't find anything apart from flowery shorts or safari shorts here. Secondly, I noticed a slightly familiar theme here. And it's not that I want to suggest that things are imbalanced at all, but... doesn't this seem slightly imbalanced ? All through the day, as I now realised, I'd been shoehorned into 3 square metres with one other bored looking guy staring at 1 pair of jeans, 1 pair of safari shorts and 2 t-shirts with ridiculous, meaningless slogans on such as "I slept on the Virgin Island - St. Thomas V.I." and "Archipelago of Tuamotu - Live the Dream" while the women wandered around an area the size of a small country wondering which of 847 designs of blue bra with red straps they should buy.
At some point, in Benetton, I found the bedside table housing mens clothes and on it were a screwed up pile of T-shirts, apparently backing Youssou N'Dour's project to grant microcredit loans to small enterprises in Africa. One caught my eye - it was green, decorated like the back of a Senegalese minibus. I liked it. I bought it. That I had made an impulse clothes purchase in the first place showed how desperate I was for success. A little something in my bag that said "you COULD have had a nap, yes, but you've got something now." It was a consolation, however small. So for you Africa lovers, you people with more money than ideas or you idealistic people who want to give a helping hand out there, go to Benetton and buy an "Africa Works" t-shirt. They're funky and they give guys on desperate shopping trips something to be slightly happy about. And as a good supporter of this project I'm going to reach out to everyone here so, to all you White Supremacists out there - go to Benetton and buy these t-shirts. If they have more money it'll stop them coming over here right ? You know it makes sense.
In the end, I dragged my panting, suicidal self up to the 5th floor and, after trudging past the usual assortment of crap, found myself in desperate man heaven - a pair of shorts which I could actually wear and cost less than 80€ !!! I grabbed them, kissed them, bought them, and walked out of that shop to have the coldest, most welcome beer I have ever had.
There's something very liberating about the summer though, even if it only lasts about half a week in this country. Walking around in hard-earned shorts and sandals and not feeling the onset of frostbite just feels good. Sitting outside and having a beer in the sun doesn't feel good because of the beer, or because you're warm - it just does because you CAN do it. Maybe it's the rarity of the situation in Finland which makes you treasure it all the more. Lying around in the park surrounded by girls in bikinis doesn't feel good BECAUSE they're in bikinis right ? It's because they are liberated isn't it ? Don't get me wrong, I'm a great admirer of the unclothed female form as well... Or maybe I'll just give up there. I'm a perve and I know it. And I'm proud.
Summer brings big football tournaments as well, although it also brings mosquitos. Summer is when you like to spend money arsing around, although you hate being locked up at work instead of out in the sun. It's a season of contrasts, although I'll happily take bikinis, football and sunshine at the expense of mosquito bites and being locked up at work sometimes.
Finland being Finland, of course, I must interrupt my daydreaming on these wonderful topics and go to put my shorts back in the wardrobe (or indeed the cellar.) The weather report indicates that in a few days it's going to get cold again. Alea iacta est.
Anyone who knows, has known, has seen, or has vaguely heard of me will very well know that I'm not on the peak of the fashion iceberg, nor am I anywhere above the surface of the water. I am sitting on the ocean floor, chilling with the octopuses and platypuses, attempting to act as if fashion didn't exist or, if it did, was pointless. Now that I was forced to go and buy a pair of shorts though, I had to stare this issue in the face. Having perused shops all the length of Aleksanterinkatu and explored, in increasing states of desperation, the entirety of the Forum and Kamppi shopping centres, I sat, exhausted, on a pavement and rolled myself a cigarette with shaking hands, drenched in nervous sweat, dreaming of a utopian society where we could all walk around naked like our ancestors did without having to care what a bunch of fashion designers think we should all wear this year. My choices were, by and large, to pay large amounts of money for Hawaiian flower shorts, or to pay large amounts of money for a pair of 45-year-old-man-on-safari-in-Tanzania shorts. As I prepared to enter what I had decided what would be the last shop of the day, I noticed the greeting by the escalator:
FLOOR 6: Administration
FLOOR 5: Menswear (and outdoor Womenswear)
FLOOR 4: Womenswear
FLOOR 3: Womenswear
FLOOR 2: Womenswear
FLOOR 1: Womenswear
My mind went back over the nightmarish 2 hours I had just endured, and came to 2 conclusions. Firstly, a window on the 5th floor would be good to jump out of in case I didn't find anything apart from flowery shorts or safari shorts here. Secondly, I noticed a slightly familiar theme here. And it's not that I want to suggest that things are imbalanced at all, but... doesn't this seem slightly imbalanced ? All through the day, as I now realised, I'd been shoehorned into 3 square metres with one other bored looking guy staring at 1 pair of jeans, 1 pair of safari shorts and 2 t-shirts with ridiculous, meaningless slogans on such as "I slept on the Virgin Island - St. Thomas V.I." and "Archipelago of Tuamotu - Live the Dream" while the women wandered around an area the size of a small country wondering which of 847 designs of blue bra with red straps they should buy.
At some point, in Benetton, I found the bedside table housing mens clothes and on it were a screwed up pile of T-shirts, apparently backing Youssou N'Dour's project to grant microcredit loans to small enterprises in Africa. One caught my eye - it was green, decorated like the back of a Senegalese minibus. I liked it. I bought it. That I had made an impulse clothes purchase in the first place showed how desperate I was for success. A little something in my bag that said "you COULD have had a nap, yes, but you've got something now." It was a consolation, however small. So for you Africa lovers, you people with more money than ideas or you idealistic people who want to give a helping hand out there, go to Benetton and buy an "Africa Works" t-shirt. They're funky and they give guys on desperate shopping trips something to be slightly happy about. And as a good supporter of this project I'm going to reach out to everyone here so, to all you White Supremacists out there - go to Benetton and buy these t-shirts. If they have more money it'll stop them coming over here right ? You know it makes sense.
In the end, I dragged my panting, suicidal self up to the 5th floor and, after trudging past the usual assortment of crap, found myself in desperate man heaven - a pair of shorts which I could actually wear and cost less than 80€ !!! I grabbed them, kissed them, bought them, and walked out of that shop to have the coldest, most welcome beer I have ever had.
There's something very liberating about the summer though, even if it only lasts about half a week in this country. Walking around in hard-earned shorts and sandals and not feeling the onset of frostbite just feels good. Sitting outside and having a beer in the sun doesn't feel good because of the beer, or because you're warm - it just does because you CAN do it. Maybe it's the rarity of the situation in Finland which makes you treasure it all the more. Lying around in the park surrounded by girls in bikinis doesn't feel good BECAUSE they're in bikinis right ? It's because they are liberated isn't it ? Don't get me wrong, I'm a great admirer of the unclothed female form as well... Or maybe I'll just give up there. I'm a perve and I know it. And I'm proud.
Summer brings big football tournaments as well, although it also brings mosquitos. Summer is when you like to spend money arsing around, although you hate being locked up at work instead of out in the sun. It's a season of contrasts, although I'll happily take bikinis, football and sunshine at the expense of mosquito bites and being locked up at work sometimes.
Finland being Finland, of course, I must interrupt my daydreaming on these wonderful topics and go to put my shorts back in the wardrobe (or indeed the cellar.) The weather report indicates that in a few days it's going to get cold again. Alea iacta est.
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