北遊記 (Journey to the North)
May. 17th, 2008 11:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kyrasantae
1500 (BST) When I got to Heathrow, it was 1330 -> about a 15 minute delay, but to get to the terminal, the "aeroplane" had to cross another runway, so we had to wait another while. Jan turns out to be an engineer. He has THE RING. Since I just got my acceptance to Faculty of Science this morning...uh...I mean, yesterday, I'm now officially an engineering dropout and I wear my silver ring with pride. Anyway, in typical London form, it is overcast and it rained a bit. The airport signage here is excellent. It took a little bit of backlog at the single security check lane before they decided to open two more, to dramatically more expedient results. Newspapers here come bagged. It's probably because it's Saturday and that means they come chock full of goodies and magazines (out of which probably fall smaller magazines, advertising personal attack alarms and lemon-scented freshen-up wipes). Oh yeah - and for efficiency's sake, everyone takes off their shoes at security. I'm a bit hungry now, but I have no pounds. I also have a headache - doubtlessly from the cheap wine.
1530 (BST) this flight to Nice that's loading right now is so freaking late, my plane's been waiting there for a while but for some reason it's not showing on the departures board for this gate. Okay, FINALLY they're done. Now WHERE'S MY FLIGHT?! I'm gonna go ask someone. They speak English, after all. Oh, never mind. There they are. People getting off, with Stockmann bags and such. This better be it.
1600 (BST) Boy, am I looking forward to being sandwiched by Real Finns™. And OMG the Finnish...announcements. Woot. I'm afraid that I don't have a window seat, though. Oh well. Oh man. Forget being sandwiched. I'm freaking surrounded on all sides. I think I'll just be stoic and pretend to be a statue in the way. Do Finns really <3 their newspapers or something? It's like there aren't enough to go around, and the attendants have to go around grabbing extra piles of them. The talking around me thing is getting weird now. Pretend to be innocent foreigner. Pretend to be innocent foreigner. Pretend to be innocent foreigner... for now (how much would that be actual pretending anyway?).
1615 (BST) Yaaaaay English with Finnish accent! (Just keep sparing me the Swedish, thanks!) Ugh, traffic jam delay. I feel my pulse increasing, completely involuntarily. The F-energy meter level (if there ever is one) must be rising off the charts.
1635 (BST) Finally going somewhere. I forget that I'm still in London.
1700 (BST) Now we have takeoff! Geez.
1940 (Finnish time, whatever that is). It took the stewardess until the after-dinner coffee to note that en puhu suomea. Really. And given the bad experience with the wine last flight I stuck to caffeinated drinks this time. So now I'm all hopped up on Coca-Cola and weak Finnish coffee. Note to self: develop taste for rye bread, stat. Finnish ketchup packet = awesome. My pulse has not returned to normal (coffee clearly not helping). So that man next to me, uh, I think it's his wife on the other side of me and his son in the row behind. They've been swapping newspapers all flight. I felt a bit awkward photographing my meal in the midst of Real Finns™, who would never photograph their national fast-food cuisine. I hope that is all of the food for now. There appears to be some dated-looking video currently on the TV screens on spring in Northern Europe, which is totally irrelevant for some reason.
2010. Finnish guy just bought two ginormous bars of Fazer chocolate and broke me a piece. =) At least "kIIIItos" is one of the few things I know how to say. Emphasis on the first syllable, yo.
2055 The captain is very long-winded in Finnish. It absolutely cannot be the fault of the language because it's a sort of compact language. On second thought, he just does the code-switching to Swedish so well I didn't notice it.
2120 - All the trees outside, the paquetted floor inside... mmm...
2300 - The airport was very quiet, and quite small, even. I didn't have to fill out forms to get through customs, which was nice, but the officer put on his serious look to grill me. Antti met me outside the baggage area, with a sign reading "welcome home, kyrasantae!". He had a copy of my poster printed off so I signed it for him, but my first spoken words were "I have that shirt!" for he had a Star Wreck shirt on. Apparently it used to be autographed but it washed off. We hung around indoors for a bit, then went outside to wait for the bus. Directly outside, for the terminal is that small. It was relatively chilly and was raining a bit - a lot like Vancouver at this time of year.
"I hope you won't be disappointed," said Antti. -- "Not yet," I replied. I gave him a postcard. I also hugged him, and refrained from pulling on his ponytail (much longer than mine).
As for the bus, Matthieu's instructions were correct to the letter. The Canadian flag on my bag was visible, so I could have sworn the driver said "thanks" when he gave me my change, but he had told me the fare in Finnish. Whatever. I'll get used to it.
At this rate, jet lag is not a problem. I'm pretty darn tired.
2325. Passing by some gas stations, looks like 95 octane gas is like 1,495€/L. Ouch. It's funny how their big light-up signs mostly only show the premium and diesel prices. Or maybe 95 is their regular grade. The other is 98 octane. P.S. Bus = way more comfortable than Greyhound.
2350 Forest forest forest forest... highway highway...forest forest forest forest... a town! a town! ooh, a town! etc.
0130 In the pitch darkness, all I see are reflections of pillars - those that mark the road, and the forest of birch trees.
1530 (BST) this flight to Nice that's loading right now is so freaking late, my plane's been waiting there for a while but for some reason it's not showing on the departures board for this gate. Okay, FINALLY they're done. Now WHERE'S MY FLIGHT?! I'm gonna go ask someone. They speak English, after all. Oh, never mind. There they are. People getting off, with Stockmann bags and such. This better be it.
1600 (BST) Boy, am I looking forward to being sandwiched by Real Finns™. And OMG the Finnish...announcements. Woot. I'm afraid that I don't have a window seat, though. Oh well. Oh man. Forget being sandwiched. I'm freaking surrounded on all sides. I think I'll just be stoic and pretend to be a statue in the way. Do Finns really <3 their newspapers or something? It's like there aren't enough to go around, and the attendants have to go around grabbing extra piles of them. The talking around me thing is getting weird now. Pretend to be innocent foreigner. Pretend to be innocent foreigner. Pretend to be innocent foreigner... for now (how much would that be actual pretending anyway?).
1615 (BST) Yaaaaay English with Finnish accent! (Just keep sparing me the Swedish, thanks!) Ugh, traffic jam delay. I feel my pulse increasing, completely involuntarily. The F-energy meter level (if there ever is one) must be rising off the charts.
1635 (BST) Finally going somewhere. I forget that I'm still in London.
1700 (BST) Now we have takeoff! Geez.
1940 (Finnish time, whatever that is). It took the stewardess until the after-dinner coffee to note that en puhu suomea. Really. And given the bad experience with the wine last flight I stuck to caffeinated drinks this time. So now I'm all hopped up on Coca-Cola and weak Finnish coffee. Note to self: develop taste for rye bread, stat. Finnish ketchup packet = awesome. My pulse has not returned to normal (coffee clearly not helping). So that man next to me, uh, I think it's his wife on the other side of me and his son in the row behind. They've been swapping newspapers all flight. I felt a bit awkward photographing my meal in the midst of Real Finns™, who would never photograph their national fast-food cuisine. I hope that is all of the food for now. There appears to be some dated-looking video currently on the TV screens on spring in Northern Europe, which is totally irrelevant for some reason.
2010. Finnish guy just bought two ginormous bars of Fazer chocolate and broke me a piece. =) At least "kIIIItos" is one of the few things I know how to say. Emphasis on the first syllable, yo.
2055 The captain is very long-winded in Finnish. It absolutely cannot be the fault of the language because it's a sort of compact language. On second thought, he just does the code-switching to Swedish so well I didn't notice it.
2120 - All the trees outside, the paquetted floor inside... mmm...
2300 - The airport was very quiet, and quite small, even. I didn't have to fill out forms to get through customs, which was nice, but the officer put on his serious look to grill me. Antti met me outside the baggage area, with a sign reading "welcome home, kyrasantae!". He had a copy of my poster printed off so I signed it for him, but my first spoken words were "I have that shirt!" for he had a Star Wreck shirt on. Apparently it used to be autographed but it washed off. We hung around indoors for a bit, then went outside to wait for the bus. Directly outside, for the terminal is that small. It was relatively chilly and was raining a bit - a lot like Vancouver at this time of year.
"I hope you won't be disappointed," said Antti. -- "Not yet," I replied. I gave him a postcard. I also hugged him, and refrained from pulling on his ponytail (much longer than mine).
As for the bus, Matthieu's instructions were correct to the letter. The Canadian flag on my bag was visible, so I could have sworn the driver said "thanks" when he gave me my change, but he had told me the fare in Finnish. Whatever. I'll get used to it.
At this rate, jet lag is not a problem. I'm pretty darn tired.
2325. Passing by some gas stations, looks like 95 octane gas is like 1,495€/L. Ouch. It's funny how their big light-up signs mostly only show the premium and diesel prices. Or maybe 95 is their regular grade. The other is 98 octane. P.S. Bus = way more comfortable than Greyhound.
2350 Forest forest forest forest... highway highway...forest forest forest forest... a town! a town! ooh, a town! etc.
0130 In the pitch darkness, all I see are reflections of pillars - those that mark the road, and the forest of birch trees.
