Many many times each day, in many places around the world, a desperate battle for territory takes place. A party makes ground, only for them to lose it later. A party will taste victory, only to taste defeat hours, minutes or even seconds later. It does not matter whom possessed the territory first or even who has the greater need. For some, the battle for territory is merely a distraction and for others, their perceived necessity.
The battle I refer to is not for land and high ideological, religious or political ideals do not underpin and drive it. The battle is for the lowly armrest, that shared dividing space between seats.
From the many visits I have had to the flying metal tube in the sky, I have observed effective and ineffective strategies. There is the negotiated solution, the concession and the familiarity based strategies (keys being the share and the cross over). The most brazen is the push off, where a party literally pushes another party's arm off the rest. Those who employ the push off, often use it multiple times in a flight, including after toilet breaks and meals. My equal favourites though are the individual and the team wait and pounce. Both require some distraction or event that results in the incumbent moving their arm. Once, I witnessed a person ask their mate in the row behind to ask the incumbent the time, on turning around and raising their watch clad arm, the incumbent lost the armrest.
Helsinki is a cool city.
In summer, owing to the amount of green space, the buzzing beer terraces and the vibe of the place, it feels eminently livable. I am told that in winter, the place is like a ghost town, with large sections of the community hibernating. Even so, I think I could live here.
The museums and galleries, though small and with limited collections, are good. There a are a number and range of decent restaurants. The people are chilled out and friendly (though some are a little strange, we saw someone dressed as superman, walking on a tightrope on our first day in town).
The strangeness continued when we took a day trip to Tallinn. On the ferry (really a cruise liner, with sleeping berths, a restaurant and two bars) across, we were entertained with some so called Finish dance music (a mix of music used in sleep trials and muzak), DJ "Retro" (who sang along to I will survive, and most hoped he didn't) and an impromptu aerobics class by a hen on her way to Tallinn for a hens weekend. DJ Retro had a few fans, including a lady of about 50 who moshed for the bulk of his set. From the number of people sporting trolleys full of alcohol on the trip back, alcohol is much cheaper in Estonia than Finland or they saw the need for provisions for DJ Retro take three. Given the dancing by the time we arrived back in Helsinki, it may have been the latter.
Tallinn, or the small part of it we saw in our few hours on land, was peaceful and nice. This was surprising, given our 'well preserved Old Town' fatigue.
A short distance off the coast of Helsinki, is the sea fortress of Suomenlinna. Suomenlinna (not Salmonella as one confused visitor kept referring to it), was built across four islands by the Swedes in 1748 and held until lost to the Russians in 1808. Although visited by hordes of tourists and a favourite of locals for picnics, it is easy to find a quiet corner or bay. In finding such a place, you may come across a German backpacker conducting a traditional Japanese tea ceremony in full dress or even a tattoo covered Fin teaching ukulele to a class of 15.
It takes all types.
Bergen, in beautiful Norway, is something of a gateway to the fjords, those breathtaking, ice formed, rocky clefts that Norway is famous for.
Given that Norway is one of the most expensive countries in Europe, we opted for self contained accommodation, to allow us to cook and cut down on living costs. The cute little apartment, in a quiet little street in suburban Bergen, provided a welcome contrast to the noise and hassle of Paris and London.
While the apartment allowed us to avoid exposure to the Liechtenstein-esque prices, it meant that we didn't get the same feel for the place, as you do interacting with other people in restaurants, bars and cafes.
On the first night, after the fish market had shut and the tour groups had gone back to their hotels and cruise ships for authentic Norwegian meals (one restaurant was offering pizza on its 'Taste of Norway' menu), we took a wander around town. Bergen, which has a population of around 250,000 is a bigger place than most realise, I think largely due to the concentration of tourist attractions and services around the ports and the dispersal of communities around the hills (they call them mountains, but after spending time in the Alps, I can't) and waterways that permeate the city.
The harbour side markets, long past their bustling heyday, do feel like they are now put on largely for tourists and visitors. This is especially the case as the fresh fish, food and fruit on sale is often available cheaper elsewhere. Even though, the markets are well worth a visit, particularly if you are looking for [salted fish], salmon, whale (should your conscience allow - ours didn't) and reindeer (yes it did each day and does 260 odd days a year).
Well rested, and having seen some of the Olympics, the next day we set off for a visit to the fjords, by train, train, boat, bus and train. Although we spent more time on public transport in one day than many do in a month, it was well worth it. The landscape we saw was striking, beautiful and unforgiving. Hillsides with impossible angles, give way to cliffs and then to moody blue green water, water that is deeper than [x]m in places.
While I will upload some photos later on today, be warned that due to some muppets on the boat feeding seagulls many photos have guest appearances from seagulls. I really wonder about some people, ok, about a lot of people.
On the boat, we also came across some WAUs (we are unique travelers), a peculiar species that travels the world drawing attention to where they come from, how far away it is and how that makes them unique and special. Should another traveler indicate that they to are from the same place, the WAU becomes withdrawn, dismissive or details, typically without any request from anyone, how where they are from is more remote, special and unique than their perceived interloper. This particular couple of WAUs had, 40 years earlier, lived in country south Australia for a month or two.
On our last day in Bergen, in preparation for the climb, we took to the hills to get some kms into our legs. What started as an easy meander up a highway width path, turned into a muddy scramble up hillsides, during which we played navigator for a tired and frustrated family. With Bergen comparatively far north, the hills take on an alpine character from around 400m.
The hills also offer the opportunity to go paragliding. We resisted the urge for a repeat of Chamonix and left a family who thought it was cheap because there was a tandem deal (and two of them could go together) to enjoy the experience.
