from Tallinn to Helsinki

I often make stupid choices. This is the only way to justify my decision to venture on a week-long trip to Helsinki, Tallinn and Riga at the height of the coldest month of the year, February. In my defence, I'd been wanting to go to the Baltic states since I worked at summer camp with a girl from Estonia in 2002. And I didn't go blindly into the valley of ice--Rosa and her friend, Derryn, were accomplices in my foray.

So let's call the trip a lack of clear communication.

I've gotten into the habit of meticulously planning my work, social and private life. So when it comes to travelling, I need a reprieve and all I do is book the flight, close my eyes and hope it all works out. I hate booking hotels and hostels. I don't check weather reports. I just crack open the lonely planet/wikitravel page when I get on the plane and/or hope someone else is more organised than me. This may come as a surprise to those of you who know me. But it's true.

As it turned out, Derryn was far more organised than me. He works for a tour booking agency and found us as cheap hotel deal. He thumbed through guidebooks and decided that we should spend three nights in Helsinki, one night in Tallinn and two nights in Riga. I was skeptical but didn't argue.
Like lambs to the slaughter, Rosa and I stumbled off the plane in Tallinn to hop straight onto a ferry across the Gulf of Finland to Helsinki where Derryn awaited us. Hordes of people loaded onto a cruise ship sized boat that cut across the ice in a surreal feat of man versus machinery.


These hordes stocked up on duty free inexpensive beer and liquor by the crateload. Students, professionals, old people alike. We laughed condescendingly and commented on their apparent alcoholism. How little we knew.

On the other side, Derryn greeted us with a wall of arctic, freeze-any-body-part-that's-not-covered-air. -24 degrees celsius air. Air that takes your breath away. Air that doubles you over in pain because, strangely, it's so cold you feel like you're on fire.

and that was only the beginning.

We checked into the hotel and began the process of bundling up that took at least five minutes--Tshirt, jumper, second jumper, scarf, gloves, coat, snood, hat. Outer extremeties covered? check. Face covered? check. Walking plan made to jump into a building within a five to seven minute window? Double Check.
We sought drink. It seemed logical seeing as it was so bloody cold. three rounds each and 100 euro (each) later, we came to the sobering realisation that Helsinki lived up to its name--hell on earth. A bottle of wine cost 26 euro, entry to a mediocre club, 14 euro and outside, still a soaring low of -24c.

We re-consulted the guidebook to find another sobering set of comments: 'go here and here with excellent this and that'. Okay, fine. Followed by the phrase: 'open in summer only' attached to every.single.free.cheap.and/or exciting thing to do. And next to the things that did indeed remain open through the ice-fires of hel: 'closed on sundays in winter'.

good thing we arrived on a saturday night.