The Russian subway system is second only to Tokyo as the most used underground network in the world.

And each station was designed to be a personal palace for everyday Russian citizens.

As such, each stop is unique and glamorous far beyond normal subway standards.

 From marble floors and columns to gleaming chandeliers, the stations are immaculate.

 I had read an article about the newest station to open (just this past June), honoring the works of Dostoevsky, and was eager to see it.  Twenty years in the making, it was the most controversial station ever built as many feared the graphic murals depicting Dostoevsky’s novels would cause depression or even suicidal tendencies.  After hours riding every line and asking several station workers where stop was located, I gave up and never found it.

Moscow makes St. Petersburg look like Lubbock, Texas – the city is loud, huge and impersonal. Some streets through the city are seven lanes in one direction.

Though not simply a symptom of Moscow (we noticed it in St. Peters as well, but not to the same extent) the general lack of manners and common courtesy was appalling. There was a lot of pushing and shoving and no one was willing to make room for the people around them.


The concept of a line seemed to mean nothing. People walked straight to the front of a line and simply stepped in. If I left ½ a foot between myself and the person in front of me, that was fair game for someone to step in front of me. Give an inch and they’ll take a mile. Even expats, who’ve lived in Moscow for several years, said they haven’t gotten used to the behavior.

It was a constant test of our patience.

Even though the city is so large, most things of interest to foreigners are located within the cities inner-most two to three rings (there are five in total). We were told not to venture out beyond ring three without a local and we took the advice.

There’s a significant amount of trash and graffiti, but not nearly as much as I was expecting. While St. Peters was a fairly flat city with all the buildings about the same height, Moscow had towering skyscrapers, varying heights and the infamous Stalin Towers that dotted the city.


English was much more commonly found and most restaurants had English menus available. Western influence seemed abundant – Beyonce blaring from storefront speakers, TGI Fridays, Dunkin Donuts, and Chilies spanning the city (though we only found one Starbucks – right in the center of all the tourist attractions). Advertising was everywhere – banners over the streets, ads screeching from loudspeakers, sidewalks covered in painted ads.

I was struck by a sense of insignificance while in Moscow; it’s so large that individual people get lost in the shuffle. We had virtually no interaction with locals beyond those working in service industries.


Strangely, almost everyone staying at our hostel was Russian, but even they wanted nothing to do the tourists.

Not sure how I feel about Moscow yet.

For more Photo Friday entertainment hop over to Delicious Baby.

3 – Forms of Transportation (train, bus, hydrofoil)
2 – Museums (The Hermitage, State Museum of Political History)
2 – Churches (Kazan Cathedral, Church of the Savior of Spilled Blood)
10 – Cups of tea
~48 – Miles on foot

Final Thoughts:


St. Petersburg ended up being a much more beautiful and fascinating city than I had anticipated. I loved that while the city was large, it didn’t feel overwhelming or inaccessible.

When I arrived it was the first time in a long time that I felt as though I was in a truly foreign environment. Although (I thought) I knew the Cyrillic alphabet fairly well, I was unprepared for not being able to understand anything.

Even trying to read street signs was a daunting challenge. Over time, it became easier to pronounce words, but I still had no idea what they meant.

I was amazed at how many weddings we saw all over town on weekdays; there seemed to be brides everywhere.

No matter where I travel, I love to just sit and people-watch. In St. Peters I marveled at the hats on display throughout the city – everyone has a fashionable hat and is put together from head to toe (even the kids).

Best: Grocery Store Find
Maybe better titled, “Strangest Grocery Store Find,” we weren’t sure if these were meant to be eaten with beer or put into beer, but they were for sale all over the beer aisle and nowhere else (its dried fish slices).

Best: Exhibit
Lenin’s study at the Mansion of Kshesinskaya which is now The State Museum of Russian Political History. The mansion served as a headquarters for the Bolshevist movement and Lenin’s desk and office space is still intact. It was very cool to see the place where the movement started as well as the balcony from which Lenin gave the majority of his speeches.

Best: Walk
The grounds of Peterhoff Palace.

Best: Unexpected Find
The beach behind Peter and Paul fortress on the Neva Heba. It was a nice surprise in the middle of the city with great views of The Hermitage on the opposing shore.

Best: Activity
Probably the most interesting activity was entering the Kazan Cathedral. It was the first Russian church I’d been in and luckily I knew well enough to cover my head in my scarf (other Westerners with exposed heads garnered disdainful looks). lt was full of people praying to icons, prostrating in front of crucifixes and waiting in line to kiss an icon on the alter while a cantor’s chants filled the Cathedral. These were clearly pious people and it gave me chills (in a good way) to watch them worship.

Best: Awkward Moment
Hands-down it would have to be the clingy and overbearing Valery. The man gave me the creeps.


Best: Texture
Part of a wall fresco at The Hermitage from the Indian Arts section.

Best: Monument
The site of the assignation of Alexander II, the Church of the Spilled Blood. The exterior is modeled after St. Basil’s in Moscow and the interior is a brilliant burst of color. Every surface in the church was covered in bold frescos and tile mosaics. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the ceiling.

Pancake – Stuffed with chicken in a cream sauce. This is Russian fast food, from Tepemok.

Buckwheat Porridge – with cabbage and egg salad. This was my first introduction to buckwheat and I loved it! Filling, healthy and tasty.

Shchi ala Boyar Soup – A soup of brisket, potato, onion, carrot and mushroom topped with dough and then baked. So satisfying after spending a day in the cold.

And still I was unprepared for just how big the place was.

It seemed crazy that this was a Palace before a museum – why would anyone need that much space? That many rooms?

But being a Palace, it was over the top in extravagance and opulence. In many cases the architecture and décor of a room overshadowed the collection of art on display. The place was unbelievable!

Even the floors were exquisite.

And of course the art was great as well, although my favorite collections were on the third floor – Monet, Renoir, Matisse, Van Gough, Henri Edmond Cross, Picasso, Pissaro, Cezanne. And the rooms on this floor were stark with and much less ornate so that you could actually appreciate the art.

I was thrilled that one of favorite painting was on display – Boulevard Monmautre by Camille Pissaro.

After nearly six hours of walking around the museum we still hadn’t seen everything. We had however reached our sensory overload threshold. It was like we were desensitized to any more magnificence.

All that aside, there were some exhibits that were difficult to see due to poor lighting and floor plan maps were scarce (at the end of the day we finally tracked one down, but it was in Spanish). Still, it was a great experience and a fantastic way to spend a day.

One of the highlights of St. Petersburg was the fantastic Peterhoff Palace.We didn’t really know what to expect other than some fountains, although since it was after October 1st there was a chance that they would be shut off for the winter. A 30 minute hydrofoil ride dropped us off at the rear of the estate and gave us just a glimpse of the Palace.

It looked quite impressive…and then we spotted the fountains up the walkway. There were some small fountains pouring into a canal and we could make out some larger spouts of water close to the Palace, but we had no idea what we were about to see.

There were fountains everywhere!

And they were gorgeous in the sunlight as they shot past one another. It was so far beyond anything that we were expecting that we just stood there for a minute taking it all in.

There were even fountains on the roof of the carriage house!

We wandered around the estate property which seemed to go on forever and there were even more fountains scattered along the paths.

The north-west section of the grounds backed up to the Gulf of Finland and was set off by a tree-lined levee that was really picturesque.

It was easy to see why Peterhoff was used as a ceremonial Palace by the likes of Catharine the Great, Elizabeth, Alexander I and Nicolas I. The estate even housed the original Hermitage museum.

The Palace ended up being closed so we walked around to the front where we were greeting by sprawling English gardens (and even more fountains).

The Palace was fantastic and well worth the trip along the Gulf.

Unfortunately, my first impression of St. Petersburg wasn’t the best. When I boarded the Express Train from Helsinki to St. Peters a man helped me put my bag up on the storage rack and ended up sitting across the aisle from me. He was a big, burly, older man (mid-50’s) with a giant belly and bulbous nose. His name was Valery, he spoke English well and was excited to have someone to practice with. I’m all for helping people with their English, so we chatted for a bit.

And then, he would not stop talking. Not for the entire six hour train ride.

For the most part it was all innocent enough; although some of his opinions on homosexuality and a woman’s “role” did not sit well with me. It was just more exhausting than anything. I had planned to use those six hours to catch up on some writing and instead I was trying to decipher what Valery was saying while feigning interest after about the first three hours.

Other passengers joined the conversation as well – Vladimir and Natalia, who spoke no English but commented through Valery’s translations and Claudio, an Italian getting his Masters from a Uni in St. Peters. By that point there was no way around being part of the conversation. And at the center was Valery; overbearing, talking over everyone else and making sure we all heard his poems and jokes.

When we arrived in St. Peters I was relieved to get off the train and made a B-line for the taxi stand. But Valery wouldn’t have it. He would escort me to my hostel and make sure that I arrived safely because “St. Petersburg can be dangerous place.”

I really didn’t want him to know where I was staying, but in an effort not to be a “rude American,” I let him show me the correct bus to take. Safely aboard the bus, I breathed easy. Then, at the last minute, Valery jumped on the bus.

At the hostel I said goodbye outside the front door, but he insisted on trying to haul my bag up six flights of stairs (the elevator was broken). However, in his physical state, I did the hauling myself (as I preferred anyways).

He got really upset, shouted some things in Russian and then stormed off. The staff cautioned me about men like him because, “he is a strange man indeed, please do be careful.”

Great. Not exactly the way I wanted to kick things off in Russia, but it was nice to meet up with Conor.

The city itself gave me the impression of a place so steeped in tradition that updates and progress were difficult – kind of a faded glory feeling. There was construction all over the city, but nothing seemed new. Traffic was crazy, as were the drivers and parking was a complete free-for-all. That said, it was a really pretty city with great architecture and gardens; large, but not overwhelming so.

2 – Forms of Transportation (ferry, bus)
2 – Churches visited (Russian Orthodox St. Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, ?)
1 – Museum visited (Estinian National History Museum)
2 – Cups of tea
~30 – Miles Walked

Final Thoughts:

I absolutely loved Tallinn! It’s a great city with an eclectic vibe that was just my style. Spending time in the capitol made me want to see even more of the country, if only I had more time! Old Town reminds me of a mix between Krakow, Poland and Bratislava, Slovakia (both cities that I really enjoy).

Everything about Tallinn is easy and laid back and the people are incredibly helpful and kind. The city is littered with art shops and galleries that allow you to just pop in and absorb locally made creations. Knit textiles are hugely popular and I walked away a lovely new scarf.

I’m not sure when, but I have a feeling that I will find myself in Estonia again.

Best: View
From the lookout in the Toompea section of Old Town at night.

Best: Walk
Kadrioru Park, the extended grounds of Alexander the Great’s summer estate. The massive property runs the gamut from dense forest areas to perfectly manicured gardens. Also houses the Office of the President and Kadriorg Palace.

Best: Unexpected Find
Just inside the long entrance to a local Beerhouse was a portion of a pirate ship. Next to the ship was a man from the Ivory Coast (about my age) dressed like a pirate. My curiosity was burning. Upon asking what the deal was, I was treated to a private tour of the Ship Restaurant.

You enter the ship, descend a staircase and are in a pirate ship. Every detail was perfectly in order and I was impressed by the complete commitment to the theme.

There was even a dungeon/torture chamber that (ironically) served as the smoking room. Pirtate ship in the basement of a beerhouse in Estonia, go figure.

Best: Awkward Moment
When I arrived at the harbor to catch mt ferry back to Helsinki and tried to check in, the woman behind the counter became very confused and started talking to another ticket associate. I took the opportunity to look around and realized that there were only about a half dozen other people in the departure hall. Odd. Turns out my ferry had just taken off – I got the time wrong by a half hour.

Then I was told that all other ferries for the evening were full. Hmm. I was placed on a stand-by list and told to check back in four hours. Fine by me, I was glad to have a few more hours in Tallinn. Four hours later I checked in again, but things are still booked. Now I was getting worried because my train to Russia was at 6am and I needed to be a ferry that night! At the last minute something opened up and I was able to hop on the last boat of the evening. It made for a late night followed by a very early morning, but everything worked out.

Best: Hidden Treasure
Less than a five minute walk from the Office of the President, an ultra-modern building rises from the hillside. It’s KUMU, the Art Museum of Estonia. I suppose its not really that hidden, but it wasn’t on my radar and stumbling upon it caught me completely off guard. It was closed, but the architecture was a work of art in itself.

Best: Grocery Store Find
Jarred soup starters.

Best: Exhibit
Soviet Era statues in a heap behind the Estonian National Museum.

Best: Texture
Glass exterior of the memorial cross in Vabaduse (Freedom) Square, celebrating Estonia’s liberation after WWII.

Best Monument
The Mermaid Guardian – In 1902 the Russian ship Revele crashed into the Estonian coast and the majority of passengers perished (the Russian Titanic).

The Mermaid now watches over the souls of those who died. Its custom to attach a lock to the chain surrounding the monument, in honor of someone who recently died, in order to have the Mermaid watch over the soul as well.

Best: Activity
Restoran – Olletehas Berrhouse (down the hall from the pirate ship) was an old fashioned tavern with live music, a livelier crowd, traditional dancing and a huge beer selection.

Communal seating at long wooden tables made it impossible not to meet new people. Like the group of 35 Armenians living/working in Tallinn and out for a night on the town. Or a group of Russian women how unknowingly ordered the largest stack of ribs on the menu and were then reduced to a fit of laughter.

*For all my foodie friends and especially two gals who always ask me first and foremost when I travel someplace new, “So, what did you eat!?!”

Bite-sized Dumplings – three varieties filled with veggies, meat or potatoes and topped with shredded carrot, pickles and garlic sauce. These were amazing! The restaurant, called EAT, was in the basement of an office building on a quite alleyway. The dumplings were perfectly seasons, hot but not scalding and the price was determined by weight rather than quantity. My bowl ran me 23EEK (Estonian Krooni) – less than $2!

Vanna Tallinn – A Bailey’s meets eggnog liquor.

Seljanka Soup – Estonia’s answer to Borsch, made with potato, onion, zucchini, olives, meat, sausage, celery in an orange broth.

Hot Wine – From Vana Turg pub. A local favorite, this bright pink drink tasted like a warm, spiced sangria. Heavy on clove, there were raisins and almond slices in the bottom. With the sun setting and the wind gathering strength, this was a great way to warm up.

Fresh-baked Grain Rolls – Served right out of a wood-burned oven with dill sauce. Mmmmm.

A.Le Coq – A light Estonian beer.

“Country” Chicken – Chicken stuffed with walnuts and black plums in a Porto sauce. Portobello mushrooms, peppers and cauliflower puree. Delicious. My favorite part? The cauliflower puree; smooth, creamy with a hint of dill. From the swanky Ego bar and restaurant.

Raspberry Kiss – I was told that Kiss drinks are very popular in Tallinn, so on my way out of town a grabbed one with lunch. It was a mix of raspberry vodka, sprite and coke that tasted better than expected. Interesting sidenote, each order is actually two drinks, one for right away and one to accompany your meal. Also at Ego.

Saku – Another local brew, served out of ceramic mugs at the Tristan ja Tsolde bar in the basement cellar of the City Hall building.


**I realized after composing this that it looks like I just drank the entire time. Not exactly, there were just a lot of things to try!

The day I arrived in Tallinn there seemed to be some commotion in the city square of Old Town. It turned out to be a festival put on by the ERU – Estonian Union of National Minorities – to celebrate minority populations living in Estonia.

There were song and dance performances from each minority group – Latvian, Lithuanian, Greek, Ukrainian, Azerbijanian, Polish and Russian.  Estonia has no national religion and most people are aethists, resulting in a population that is known for being welcoming and tolerant.

Each group also had a booth set up to sell goods and food from their home country.

From the Latvian booth I purchased what I thought looked like some kind of cheese on a slice of bread. I got the bread part right, but the topping was actually a chewy, comically salty slice of herring.

You win some you lose some. Everyone involved seemed to be in high spirits and it was interesting to see all the different cultural outfits and performances.

About 45 minutes by bus from Old Town, along the shore of the Gulf of Finland, is the Estonian National History Museum (and since I knew nothing about the country, I figured it was worth a visit).

From the road, there is a giant terraced staircase leading up a hill to the enormous Maarjamae Palace and estate that houses the museum.

The property is the stuff of magic. Its peaceful, calm, charming, inviting and yet has an air of mystery about it. As though you can’t be too sure what happened there or what you might find. With sweeping views of the Gulf and the leaves changing from green to yellow to burnt orange it was impossible not to be enamored with the place.

The estate changed hands many times over the years and was owned by some of the wealthiest and most established Estonian families until the Soviet occupation when the palace was turned into flats for soldiers.

While none of the captions throughout the museum were in English, the curator provided me with a small book (in English) to compliment the displays. I was really impressed with the presentation of material – it was eye catching, informative, concise and really well displayed.

There were some fascinating artifacts, like hats worn as part of University uniforms during the German occupation in the 1940’s that students altered to have the national colors of Estonia (several students were executed as a result), drawings on birch-bark by a 10-year old child in a work camp in Siberia and a pair of hand carved wooden shoes from an inmate of the same camp.

Around the side of the museum was a low fence (the owner of my hostel told me simply to ignore it) so I hopped over and was rewarded with what I would call a graveyard of sorts. In heaps and random piles, simply thrown down and forgotten, were all of the soviet era monuments and statues that had adorned Old Town.

Unfortunately, my camera battery was about dead so I was only able to manage a few photos. I wondered why they kept them at all because clearly they didn’t care about them – judging from how they were strewn about – but they also didn’t want to showcase them – considering they were behind the museum’s fenced backyard.

I wish that I had had more time to walk around the grounds, but I had to get back into town to catch my ferry back to Helsinki.

There is a stretch of highway – two lanes wide, 100 yards long, in Ohio, on the State Turnpike. Its an unimpressive bit of road; no hairpin turns nor sweeping landscapes, no bumps in the road nor uneven pavement. It is unspectacular in every way possible, save for one.

On this road, three years ago today, in the dead of night a deer left the safety of the wooded shoulder and crept into the road.


It was at that moment, with Dinosaur Jr. seeping though the speakers, that my sister and the members of Electric Jellyfish (Hayden, Mike, Adam and Pat) appeared on the scene.


A startled deer and a startled wifedaughtersisterfriend. The timing was exact.


The one exception to that wholly unexceptional stretch of pavement is that it claimed the lives of my sister Bridget and her husband Hayden and left the other passengers in various states of injury and distress.


Today the road is as ordinary as can be. Thousands drive by everyday completely ignorant of what happened there.

But if you’re patient and look closely, you can see traces left behind; a dent in a guardrail, a skidmark on the road, a blemish on the center median.

Its been three years and not a day goes by that I don’t wish the timing had been different.

One my favorite things about Estonia was the abundance of folklore stories and how seamlessly the past seemed to mix with the present.

300 years ago, in a corner of Old Town, was a popular hotel well known throughout the region. In the dead of winter, when visitors were rare, a mysterious traveler came to stay in the hotel’s penthouse suite.

Several hours after checking in, continuous loud noise began to radiate from the room. Annoyed, the hotel owner sent his bellhop up to ask the guest to quite down. The bellhop didn’t return. Next, the owner sent his desk clerk to check on the situation. She failed to return as well but the noise continued.

Convinced that the guest was throwing some sort of party, the owner himself ascended the stairs to the penthouse. He crouched down, peered through the keyhole and saw…the devil!


The entire street was evacuated and the town was in an uproar. The following morning the water level in the town wells had dropped to ¼ the normal level.

In that time, mysticism was a common belief and the town people were certain the water issue was the work of the devil. They decided that a sacrifice was in order and proceeded to round up and drown all town’s cats in the well closest to the hotel.

All the sacrifice accomplished was to poison the remaining water, causing widespread suffering.

Many wanted the hotel to be condemned and destroyed, but the owner protested. A compromise was reached to allow it to remain standing if the room was bricked up on all sides and never opened again.


And so the hotel still stands today (though now it’s a Chinese restaurant) with the penthouse suite bricked up. It’s in the upper left-hand corner of the hotel – a window with curtains is painted over the brick.

The well, just a stone’s throw from the hotel entrance, is the only well left in Old Town. The city of Tallinn actually has a law that, to this day, prohibits the hotel room from being unsealed.

Across town, high above the buildings, perched daintily on a chimney-top is a statue of a cat. A tribute (and some form of apology) to the all the cats that were needlessly sacrificed.

All over Tallinn can be seen graffiti images of cats – modern references to an old tale.

In the next year, I will attempt to complete the following:

1. Contribute to a publication
2. Move to a new city
3. Do something outrageous for someone I love
4. Fly a kite in Central Park
5. Sea kayak
6. Run a marathon
7. Visit a few new countries
8. Start a snowball fight
9. Give Guiness another shot
10. Catch a UO football game live
11. Read Anna Karenina
12. Yoga 55 times
13.Set up an Etsy page for my sister’s photography
14. Ride a camel
15. Bake homemade bread
16. Max out my IRA
17. Stand on the Great Wall of China
18. Help fund 10 new Kiva projects
19. Get a massage
20. Volunteer
21. Make a veggie burger from scratch
22. Try to paint something pretty
23. Visit the fam in Australia
24. Take a sailing lesson
25. Spend a day at the Met
26. Pick a random city in the US & spend the weekend there

As mentioned previously, locals of Tallinn call the Old Town “The Island” for its abundance of tourists and shops that cater to them. However, the city has a long history that shaped the course of Estonia.

Old Town is broken into two separate sections; the upper, smaller town of Toompea that housed the royal family and lower town below that accommodated the masses.

The two sections are divided by an enormously tall wall dubbed, “The Wall of Hate.” In the evening hours the gates into Toompea would be locked and the wall prevented any commoners from entering the royal grounds.

In the 14th century, Old Town was surrounded by vast forests and the king of the time was an avid hunter. On one occasion a fawn managed to wander onto the streets of Toompea and the king was immediately and uncharacteristically taken with the small creature.

He ordered his guards to catch the fawn so that he might have it as a pet.

The guards, not wanting to hurt the future pet of the king, spent three months chasing it around the streets of Toompea until they finally had it cornered.

Because my initial plans had been altered, I found myself with a few extra days to kill before meeting my brother in St. Petersburg. I’d done everything that interested me in Helsinki so I hopped on a two-hour ferry across the Gulf of Finland to Estonia’s capital city, Tallinn.

Not having planned on visiting Estonia, I stepped off the ferry without expectation. After only a few minutes I could tell that I was going to love this city – it just had a good vibe to it.

The ferry staff had provide me with a city map and the names of a few hostels, so I set off in the direction of Old Town…or so I thought.

After about an hour of walking I seemed to have made no progress toward my destination. It was as if the map and physical streets were conspiring to make me utterly and hopelessly lost.


When I finally stopped to ask someone where I was, they were unable to show me on the map as I’d walked myself right off of it. Luckily, I had ditched my large pack in Finland and only had a day bag because as it turned out, the compass on the map had been printed upside-down and the map itself was dated about four years (thanks ferry lady!)

However, this snafu didn’t bother me a bit. It was a gorgeous day; the sun was out and it was warm (I didn’t even need a jacket!)With my bearings corrected, I had no problem locating the Dancing Eesti Hostel in Old Town. I’m actually rather pleased that the map was incorrect – otherwise I might never have seen so much of the city.

Some streets were lined with stately and established homes, with a flare of elegance that could be found in any upper-class community in the US. Certainly, not all of the neighborhoods were this way; many were aging and run-down with graffiti lining the walls. But they had character and spunk and you could tell that people actually lived there.

As opposed to Old Town. Locals call this place “The Island” or “ Tallinn Disney” because its kept unnaturally clean and nearly every other storefront is a souvenir shop.

Its also about the only place in town to find “Authentic Estonia Cuisine” restaurants as most Estonians eat international fare when they dine out.

As a result, Old Town felt a bit contrived. That being said, it’s a very pretty area with medieval architecture and is the setting for the formation and history of the entire country. I got the sense that even though locals may not live there (they do go there to drink at all the new pubs though) they are extremely proud of what it represents for Estonia.

Outside of Old Town, the business district was (to me) surprisingly modern. On a whole, the people were very kind, proud of their independence (their first post-occupation president was only elected in 1992) and eager to share their culture with visitors.

5 – Modes of Transport (plane, train, tram, shuttle, ferry)
2 – Museums Visited (Museum of Contemporary Art – Kiasma, Design Museum)
3 – Churches Visited (Helsinki Cathedral, Uspenski Cathedral, Johanneksen Church)
4 – Cups of Tea Consumed
~32 – Miles Traveled on Foot

While I enjoyed my time in Helsinki, I wouldn’t say that I was overwhelmingly impressed. After awhile I started to feel somewhat bad for the Finns – all of their national heroes, after which monuments and streets were named, were people that I’ve never heard of.

Even their pride and joy cartoon character Mumin (who has been around for 60 years) was new to me.

And much of Finland’s design aesthetic (of which they are immensely proud) is borrowed from or modeled after the Swedes. I loved that the city was easy to navigate and there was plenty to do and see, but I don’t think there’s too much compelling me to make a return trip in the near future.

Best: Walk
Eastern shores of Lake Töölönlahti. Scenic and quiet, it showcased old-style wooden homes.

Best: View
From the top of the 72 meter (236 foot) tall Stadium Tower. Only a minute walk from my hostel, the tower had impressive views of the entire city.

Best: Grocery Store Find
Hallowed out loaves of rye bread filled with various meats, cheese, vegetables and who knows what else.

Best: Meal
Vegetable soup and rye crackers at the open-air market. The soup was delicious and the ambiance of the open restaurant right on the water-front was unbeatable. Plus for only 4 Euro it was one of my cheapest meals.

Best: Activity
Old Market Hall and Market Square. This place had everything and was humming with people gathering ingredients for supper.

Best: Unexpected Find
University Botanical Gardens. I stumbled upon the entrance to the gardens and although all the vegetation markers were in Finnish (thus I still know nothing about local flora and fauna) the grounds and substantial greenhouse where lovely. If I lived here I could picture myself on the lawn, reading a book on the weekends.

Best: Exhibit

AIR, Smell of Helsinki, Budapest and Paris by Hilda Kozari. Acrylic bubbles hung from the ceiling that gave a complete sensory vibe of each city.

Metal building siding on the Metro Hospital.

Best: Monument
In honor of the composer Sibelius, this monument was a warped, undulating mass of steel pipes that looked different from every angle.

 

Lingonberries – There were daily open markets dotting Helsinki and they all had vendors selling mounds of small red berries. So, I bought some. They were similar to cranberries in that they had a slightly bitter, slightly sour taste, though they were much smaller in size. Quite tasty.

Rukinen Percnapirkka with Kurkku – Basically rye bread filled with shredded potatoes and topping with a cucumber relish-like salad. I wasn’t sure about this combination since I had just grabbed some stuff at the grocery store, but it was actually a really good and filling meal.

Ma-Su – I had anticipated that this would be a yogurt-like drink, but it was actually almost a gel that had a really strong taste (like mandarin orange, mango and apple). After a few sips I got the feeling that it was supposed to be a juice concentrate, so I cut it with some water and it tasted much better.

Vegetable soup and Rye crackers – The open air markets are a conglomeration of orange tents that sell produce, pastries, breads and prepared foods. Some tents are essentially outdoor restaurants. I decided to try some soup and loved that it was served from a massive iron vat behind the counter.

Lona Russpastelia – At the grocery store I thought this looked like a raisin-filled savory pie, but it turned out to be filled with ground meat, onion and rice. For 0.72 Euro, it was a great snack.

Aura Beer – A Finnish brew.

The Finland Museum of Contemporary Art – Kiasma was located in between my hostel and the city center and since my primary mode of transportation was my own two feet, I’d walked by the place about a half dozen times before I finally went in.

I don’t in any way consider myself an art buff but I’m always fascinated by contemporary and modern art exhibits. Maybe I simply don’t possess the depth to fully appreciate certain pieces of “art” on a serious level, however I do find some of it extremely entertaining.

Like a video of a woman getting sprayed in the face by a spray bottle until she’s sopping wet all the while keeping a straight face (turns out the woman in the video is the artist).

Or hanging various colored ribbons from the ceiling.

Or making a snow-globe of someone meeting their end at the hands of a tree (this is actually pretty awsome!).

I may not have understood all of it, but I certainly enjoyed it. And there are some things that I found to be very innovative and “artsy” (by my definition – which I can’t really even define). Like a serious of giant bubbles that you stand in and contain the essence of a city; the sounds, smells and images of a place.

And photography of clever solutions to everyday problems.

An exhibit that was particularly interesting followed the efforts of the artist, Sasha Huber, to rename the Swiss mountain Agassizhorn. The mountain is currently named after Louis Agassit, a scientist who photographed a slave in the US as proof for a paper declaring blacks an inferior race.

Huber’s goal is rename the mountain Rentyhorn, after the slave that was photographed. While it haven’t officially been renamed yet, Huber traveled by helicopter to the summit to place a marker bearing the new name.

Creativity + Social Justice = Art I can understand

From the city center, the skyline of Helsinki is dominated by two soaring Cathedrals; Uspenski Cathedral and Helsinki Cathedral.


Uspenski Cathedral – in Byzantine-Slavonic style I’m told – sits atop a hill overlooking the city and the views from its steps are some of the best in town. The deep red brick façade and spires topped with green copper cupolas are both inviting and aesthetically pleasing.

From the hill can be seen the gargantuan Helsinki Cathedral. Situated in Senate Square in the heart of government and University of Helsinki buildings, Helsinki Cathedral is perhaps the most iconic image of city.

Senate Square itself is not a terribly large space, but often plays home to various art and sculpture exhibits – like the United Buddy Bears.

Ascending the flights of stone steps, I was certain that the interior of this Cathedral would top the last and I was eager to see it. Honestly, I was disappointed. For as grand as the exteriors is, the interior is a complete let-down. There simply was nothing special or unique or even interesting about it; it could have been a simple church anywhere in the world.

That being said, with a lack of high-rises, Helsinki Cathedral remains a prominent fixture in the city’s skyline.

Wroclaw (pronounced vr-os-wav)is the fourth largest city in Poland and is also home to my dear friend Konrad Bojakowski. I was lucky enough to travel throughout Poland with him and spend some time in the place he calls home.

I found Wroclaw to be a vibrant city with a charm that is lacking in Warsaw and even Poland’s tourist haven, Krakow. Unlike those two cities, Wroclaw feels like an authentically Polish experience.

With flight glitches behind me, I was off to Finland. On the flight over the Atlantic I had a wonderful view of Reykjavik, Iceland (as close as I could get) at night and though I didn’t see them, I kept an eye out for the Aurora Borealis (I have no idea if they’re visible from the air, but I didn’t want to miss them if they were).

After 15 hours of travel I landed in Helsinki and boarded a shuttle into town. My first thought – “I’m home! This place feels so much like Denmark!”

From the clustered suburban housing complexes and perfectly manicured playgrounds and parks to the clean streets and Carlsberg billboards, it all felt familiar.

Like the Danes, Finns mostly keep to themselves and are quiet around new people. They like their fish and rye crackers and bread.

I thought that the language might be similar to Danish and that I could fake some conversation, but Finnish is a completely different beast; it gathers influence from Scandinavia but is a true Baltic language.

 

The accommodation is actually the dormitories that were used to house athletes at the Stadium for the in the 1954 Olympics. (After my little jaunt around town I was feeling very Olympic myself.)

A few weeks ago my Aunt Bridget, a 6th grade teacher in San Jose, CA, called to ask if I would assist her in teaching her class about geography and how to read an atlas. “How will I do that when I’m on the other side of the world?” I asked.

The answer was simple; send postcards to the class from various countries along the route and update my current location so they can track my progress (check out Where in the World). They’ll learn about a country or region while someone they “know” is there.

Such a cool idea! There wasn’t a moment of hesitation – I jumped on the opportunity to expose middle schoolers to the world beyond the US (and California, which feels like its own country sometimes).

So, to Mrs. Gach’s 6th grade class:

Hello! I hope the start of the school year hasn’t been too painful for you.

I’m so excited that you’ll be following along as my brother and I travel. If you have any questions about the culture, history or geography of a specific destination (or anything else) please submit them Mrs. Gach and I’ll do my best to answer them.

I’ve created a map that I’ll update with my current location so that you can see exactly where Conor and I happen to be at a given time.

Work hard, be nice to Mrs. Gach and good luck with 6th grade!

-Kelly

Regardless of the time of day, Melbourne is endlessly walkable, impeccably clean, easy to navigate and full of surprises.

The skyline is a nice balance of skyscrapers (Eureka Towr), unique architecture (Melbourne Art Center Tower) and historical buildings (Finders Station).

Sidebar:  Our travel agent is Judi Stiles of Stiles in Travel.  She is amazing and has worked her ass off for us in the past few days; she’s worth her weight in gold!

I’ve run into my first real roadblock with this trip, packing.  I always seem to overpack ever so slightly, returning home with a few pieces of clothing still as neatly folded as the day I left.  I just hate to be unprepared.  Plus I’m kind-of a girly girl.  As in, I rarely travel without my flat iron.I know, I know, that’s not exactly the best way to pack light, but that’s just how I roll (or something).

But seriously, how exactly does one pack for something that will see them attending formal events in big cities, days at a time on a trans-continental train and a week living in Ger camps with nomadic Mongolians?  A ball gown isn’t really necessary in the Gobi Desert.  And then tack on the fact that its going to damn cold.

Luckily I’ve always been neurotic about packing and as such have a pretty decent process:
1. In the weeks leading up, make a pile in the corner of things to take
2. Lay everything out on the bed and categorize
3. Practice run of loading the pack
4. Naturally not everything will fit, so unpack and reassess
5. Weed out those thing I truly will not “need”
6. Practice pack again
7. Unpack and final edit
8. Pack for real

It always amazes me how much stuff I’m able to weed out when I see the size (and feel the weight) of the bag in front of me.

As for my carry-on bag, everything is all set.

I’m hopeful that I can find a happy medium; taking what I need for all the diverse settings I’ll be in and yet not ending up a pack mule.  Here’s to hoping.

Yesterday I spent the day with my kick-ass Grandma, Yvonne, in San Jose.  She’s slowly trying to go through everything in her house, clean up and get organized (no small feat for an 83-year-old broad).

Her office was the room de jure yesterday and we spent the entire day sorting through stacks of paper, boxes of dated office supplies (the woman has an original Crayola Crayon set from when there were only 16 colors!), mounds of cards and letters, and pretty much anything else imaginable.

The thing that I love about Grandma’s house is that there is just so much stuff and you never know what you’re going to find.  An unsuspecting shoe box might yield the Civil War journal of a long-ago soldier in the family, or a whicker basket might produce cuff links worn by Great-great-Uncle so and so when he shot the clock-tower in town square.

You just never know what might turn up.

After hours of cleaning and sorting and purging there remained a single wooden box on the second closet shelf that we had not opened.

We pulled it out, removed the lid and found that it was filled with letters to and from family members during the last century.  Newspaper clippings, death notices and prayer cards.  A full sheet of NASA space stamps from 1970.  A gold pocket-watch chain. And a leather pocketbook.

Intrigued, I opened the pocketbook and found that it was actually a passport cover.  And it contained the passports of my Great Grandparents.  They were in pristine condition.  I’m not gonna lie, I was giddy about this find!

They were perfect.  Simple.  Clean.

Their photos were glued in for gods sake!

Modern passports have pages and pages of information at the beginning, theirs had just a few concise pages.

I loved that the passport numbers were pin-hole punched out of the cover and first four pages.

The passports had their entry and exit stamps from their big trip to Hong Kong.  It was, in fact, their second trip to H.K.  The first visit was in 1946 when they were invited to sail from San Francisco to H.K. with a group of doctors.  The second trip, in 1974 (when these passports were issued) was for their 50th wedding anniversary.

There were also three Certificates of Registration for Personal Effects Taken Abroad that detailed everything they brought back.  Like a Vienna & Cashmere Coat, red w/black trim by Monet Ltd H.K. and a 115mm Zeiss Telephoto lense (they stocked up on camera equipment and had tons of clothes made).

Also tucked into the leather cover were their International Certificates of Vaccination.

I looked for their earlier passports from 1946, but came up empty handed.  I’m sure they’re somewhere in that house, in a box that hasn’t seen daylight in decades.  Per usual, Grandma’s house did not disappoint!

For more Photo Friday glory, march over to Delicious Baby

When out of town guests come to visit, I often draw a blank for things to do in Sacramento.  Not that there’s nothingto do in town, but it always seems easier to suggest a day in San Francisco or a weekend at Lake Tahoe.

But, Sac does have the American River which is great for a leisurely float or a day of navigating the rapids further upstream.

I decided that a little family white water rafting was a great alternative to a day in SF when Court came to visit (she’s been to the States four times now and has been to the city on every trip).  Unfortunately, I forgot that Court is not a fan of… heights, rides, roller coasters, big hills – basically anything fast and fun – so it took some convincing for her to go along with it.

The South Fork of the American River offers nearly continuous class II & III rapids and seemed a perfect compromise for those who love big rapids and Court’s more timid tastes.  (My first white water trip was on the Colorado River at age 6, so you know I was in the former group).

Our guide through Gold Rush Tours was great and seemed to put Court at ease.  Sure, she was scared, but she was having fun and paddling like a maniac.

And then we got to the Trouble Maker rapid, a class III+ (not sure why they don’t just call it a IV then).  It was the largest rapid of the day and was a notorious spot for flipping rafts.

Everything started out well; we positioned the raft to approach the rapid at just the right angle, but as we entered the shoot, the back of the raft caught a sudden up-current which sent the front left side diving into the water.

Out fell Mom…

And then Dad…

But the raft didn’t flip.  While we tried to hold oars out to pull them back in the boat it became clear that the water was simply moving too fast.

They would have to just ride this one out on their own.

When we finally got through Trouble Maker and found calm water we collected the spilled cargo who were exhausted and a bit shaken.  Though she said nothing at the time (to not freak Court out) Mom thought she was going to drown.

When all was said and done everyone had a good time (sans the near-death experience) and we were proud of Court for getting out her comfort zone and trying something new.

*About two weeks after our trip down the river, a boat of Raft Guide trainees capsized on the Trouble Maker rapid.  One trainee got caught in the rocks under the surface and drowned.  Needless to say Mom will probably not be white water rafting any time soon.

For more Photo Friday goodness head over to Delicious Baby.

Even on a rainy day, its impossible to resist going on the uber-cliché Viking Ship water ride.

Below the small, unsuspecting town of Wieliczka, Poland, on the outskirts of Krakow, lies a vast salt mine.

Over 1,000 feet deep and nearly as long, the Wieliczka Salt Mines are the world’s second oldest operating salt mines.

Our guide was a very stern and serious woman named Aniela – a name that ironically means “angel.”  She assured that the title of world’s second was incorrect…”No, we are oldest!”  Gotta love the enthusiasm.

After plummeting towards the center of the earth in a rickety elevator and descending deeper yet down several staircases, we got our first glimpse of the world of salt.

We had been told that everything was carved from or made of salt, but we hadn’t really anticipated the level of detail and intricacy we saw.

In corridor after corridor, room after room, could be found amazing sculptures carved into the earth.

Following the hour-long tour (during which Aniela’s go to joke was “If we had lime and tequila we make party”) we were left to wander and explore the undisputed highlight of the mines, the Cathedral.

It. Was. Immaculate.

Aniela told us that they actually preform weddings in the Cathedral, but that you pretty much had to be really rich or know someone in government to get permission.

Once we had our fill of holy relics and stories-high chandeliers (btw, even the crystals of the chandeliers were made of salt) we grabbed lunch at the world’s deepest restaurant. [insert salty food joke here]

Emerging back to the surface, it was hard to believe that there could be so much going on below our feet.

For more Photo Friday see Delicious Baby!

In 40 days Conor and I will saying “Sayonara!” to the US of A.

And as luck would have it we were able to finagle a 3-day layover in Reykjavik, Iceland on our way to Finland, for free!

Assuming Eyjafjallajökull doesn’t go nuts again, Iceland should be a great way to start the trip.

There’s a ton of things to get in order before we depart, but I’m starting to get really amped up!

13. The Lake!

*For more Photo Friday stop by Delicious Baby