My partner and I recently arrived home from a European trip. When the rubber hit the tarmac at Brisbane airport I felt relieved. It isn't easy living out of a suitcase for a month. It isn't easy feeling compelled to visit every tourist attraction imaginable, including run down castles; another bloody church; and markets selling reindeer antlers attached to bottle openers. It isn't easy eating Finnish food. No. It's hard. So why do we do it?
Well maybe we won't do it again, but being easy is not the point. Being easy is never the point. As tiring and at times disappointing and frustrating as travel may be, this time my life feels changed. Was it changing already? Well, maybe. But I'll reflect on some of differences - different thoughts perhaps - that occurred to me on or because of the trip, before I forget them.
Firstly I did not know, before going there, that I would find Helsinki and surrounds to be the most easy going, desirable, friendly, creative place I have ever visited. I did not know that if someone said that I had to live in a European city I would choose Helsinki - well maybe I'd negotiate a concession and live in the country just outside Helsinki, from where I would commute. I'd choose Helsinki-ish ...
Interestingly, and surprisingly, on day one, when leaving Helsinki central railway station with luggage trundling behind, I heard a sharp crack as two young women, dressed for work in a Brisbane kind of fashion, walked towards us. Looking down - following the sharp sound - I saw a clear takeaway plastic cup with a few centimeters of ice in the bottom, roll briefly from side to side on the uneven Medieval cobble stoned street before coming to a halt. I looked up just in time to take in the appearance of the young woman who had just thrown it down with such decisive force, before she passed us by forever. I commented to my partner that that was something I had never seen before. But surely I had. Was the difference the sound the ice laden cup made against the stones of the cobbled street? There are no such streets in Brisbane.
Vaguely bemused and even a touch shocked, with the crack of the ice on the cobbles ringing in our ears, we continued our trek to our hotel, all the while aware of the very unusually uneven cobbled streets and footpaths of this as yet new city, which was still a stranger to us. After covering at least half the distance between the station and our hotel another young woman - still well dressed but this time in a different style - a touch Goth but moneyed, not in any way unkempt - cut across our path from the right as she crossed the street and stepped on and walked across the foot path in front of us. Synchronous with her crossing, a clear plastic takeaway ice cream cup - empty but with a coating of ice cream or yoghurt clinging to the inside - left her hand, hit the ground, more softly than the previous one, and rolled from side to side, briefly and gently on the cobble stones.
When arriving in a new city all my senses are very much open to discovering the salient characteristics of this city of my imaginings, but not as yet of my knowing. I gave voice, in this second moment, to my surprise at witnessing this wanton disregard for rubbish bins, by young, well dressed and purposeful women. The young woman in black - the young woman of the ice cream cup- swung around on hearing my words, briefly and dismissively making eye contact, but just as quickly - as quickly as she had discarded the ice cream cup - turned her head and thoughts to the front again, to what was important to her, as she lost not a beat and continued on her way.
So these are some reflections on the city of my dreams. They are not the only reflections I am able to share, but they are kind of interesting, helping to develop a little the idea that travelling is not easy, and frequently contradictory. I have created not only contradictions but a knife edge in the telling of these anecdotes however. Is Helsinki indeed a livable city, as I claimed I found it to be? Or is it a city whose sights and sounds are hijacked by a tendency for the well healed to dispose of disposables unselfconsciously, loudly, and in public view, like an unconscionable belch for which no apology is forth coming? Happily I cannot claim the latter to be true - such observations did not dominate my six days in Helsinki. First impressions can, indeed, be misleading ...
Well maybe we won't do it again, but being easy is not the point. Being easy is never the point. As tiring and at times disappointing and frustrating as travel may be, this time my life feels changed. Was it changing already? Well, maybe. But I'll reflect on some of differences - different thoughts perhaps - that occurred to me on or because of the trip, before I forget them.
Firstly I did not know, before going there, that I would find Helsinki and surrounds to be the most easy going, desirable, friendly, creative place I have ever visited. I did not know that if someone said that I had to live in a European city I would choose Helsinki - well maybe I'd negotiate a concession and live in the country just outside Helsinki, from where I would commute. I'd choose Helsinki-ish ...
Interestingly, and surprisingly, on day one, when leaving Helsinki central railway station with luggage trundling behind, I heard a sharp crack as two young women, dressed for work in a Brisbane kind of fashion, walked towards us. Looking down - following the sharp sound - I saw a clear takeaway plastic cup with a few centimeters of ice in the bottom, roll briefly from side to side on the uneven Medieval cobble stoned street before coming to a halt. I looked up just in time to take in the appearance of the young woman who had just thrown it down with such decisive force, before she passed us by forever. I commented to my partner that that was something I had never seen before. But surely I had. Was the difference the sound the ice laden cup made against the stones of the cobbled street? There are no such streets in Brisbane.
Vaguely bemused and even a touch shocked, with the crack of the ice on the cobbles ringing in our ears, we continued our trek to our hotel, all the while aware of the very unusually uneven cobbled streets and footpaths of this as yet new city, which was still a stranger to us. After covering at least half the distance between the station and our hotel another young woman - still well dressed but this time in a different style - a touch Goth but moneyed, not in any way unkempt - cut across our path from the right as she crossed the street and stepped on and walked across the foot path in front of us. Synchronous with her crossing, a clear plastic takeaway ice cream cup - empty but with a coating of ice cream or yoghurt clinging to the inside - left her hand, hit the ground, more softly than the previous one, and rolled from side to side, briefly and gently on the cobble stones.
When arriving in a new city all my senses are very much open to discovering the salient characteristics of this city of my imaginings, but not as yet of my knowing. I gave voice, in this second moment, to my surprise at witnessing this wanton disregard for rubbish bins, by young, well dressed and purposeful women. The young woman in black - the young woman of the ice cream cup- swung around on hearing my words, briefly and dismissively making eye contact, but just as quickly - as quickly as she had discarded the ice cream cup - turned her head and thoughts to the front again, to what was important to her, as she lost not a beat and continued on her way.
So these are some reflections on the city of my dreams. They are not the only reflections I am able to share, but they are kind of interesting, helping to develop a little the idea that travelling is not easy, and frequently contradictory. I have created not only contradictions but a knife edge in the telling of these anecdotes however. Is Helsinki indeed a livable city, as I claimed I found it to be? Or is it a city whose sights and sounds are hijacked by a tendency for the well healed to dispose of disposables unselfconsciously, loudly, and in public view, like an unconscionable belch for which no apology is forth coming? Happily I cannot claim the latter to be true - such observations did not dominate my six days in Helsinki. First impressions can, indeed, be misleading ...
