Scandinavia 2008 - Day 22
Friday morning I awoke three minutes before ten, so no breakfast. I ate a cheeseburger on the way to the Ateneum Art Museum. The Ateneum has a fuckin' great collection. I think I might have even discovered a new artist I've never heard of yet totally dig. Lunch was at the Czech bar Vlatava was really tasty. I got to try a new Czech beer I had never had before, Holba, which I liked. Slightly smashed I paid my bill, walked out into the sunshine, cranked up some B.R.M.C. on my iPod and went for a walk in the park. I didn't get far before I got the shits. Luckily I was in front of Aalvar Alto's Opera House when they hit. Walking quickly up to the building I witnessed a dump truck dive under the porch-cocher and rip it off the face of the building. The driver looked miserable, even more so than I, who squished his cheeks together and hurried on into the restroom.
Relieved I continued my walk. After several hours and nowhere in particular (the park, and a closed botanical garden, as well as several more stops at public restrooms) I walked to the beach. The cold and clouds moved in before I arrived, so the beach was empty except two old men. I took a nap on a bench in the wind.
Shivering slightly, I walked slowly in and with little purpose towards the direction of my hostel, stopping by to see the Church on the Rock. In the hostel lobby I watches some of the Olympics coverage with an Argentinian and a German. I discovered from the Argentinian that by some stroke of luck I was in Helsinki during arts day, the biggest public festival day of the year for the city; a whole day of art, concerts, and movies, all for free and all around the city.
I was on my way back to Vlatava and Juan the Argentinian decided to come with me (in the hostel lobby we talked American sports and got to know each other well enough). Talking and walking towards downtown, I discovered that he too was an architect, he was wore out from work and was on a two month vacation to re-energize. At Vlatava we downed some beers and then followed a large crowd to the premiere event, the “Rock'n Rhythm Rawkhuse” (not a typo) a celebration of best hits from 1968 as performed by Helsinki's best. The square was filled with tens of thousands of Finn's, but we still managed to push our way to the front of the crowd. Some of the songs were good, Tom Jones' classic Delilah, and some sucked, like the rendition of “Hello, I love you” as song by an overly dramatic Hassellhoff wannabe. But all in good fun. Most of the show Juan and I would turn and look at each other with odd looks on our faces before bursting into laughter. In fact we laughed ourselves to tears during “Hello, I love you.” After a finale by one of Finland's biggest pop stars backed by a boys choir (great song) we chatted with two older women who were cute, but not up for any “fun.”
Back over near the hostel we found some food at the “Kebab King”, watched a few minutes of the Dylan documentary “Long Way Home” playing in the plaza square before going to Elmo's Bar for some drinks. (oh shit, almost forgot, before beers at Vlatava before the concert, we walked around to some of the other venues to see what was going on. At the art museum we walked into a room full of Goths with sketch pads sketching a goth chick who was wearing only a few pieces of electrical tap. And next door to that we stopped in at the central post office to catch a few minutes of a fashion show.) In Elmo's we started drinking heavily and quickly. After explaining to the bar tender what an Irish car bomb was – Juan and I took one each. After the drop shot (which not only did I get the ingredients way wrong, but the bartender brought us brim-full pints of Guinness that we had to half chug before we could do our shot) we discovered that we suddenly had a room full of friends. We moved from the bar out onto the sidewalk where we could smoke, drink, and yell. We talked to a couple of young kids in a metal band – one even had a split tongue like a snake. He also had pics on his cell phone of him sticking big fucking needles through his arm. We joked around with those two and the owner of Elmo Bar, who was standing next to his shitty car while wearing a Ferrari racing jersey. His car was plastered with giant Elmo Bar stickers, we jokingly called it the Elmo Racer.
At 2am we had to move into the bar from off the sidewalk, where we met more people and all their friends. At 3am the bar closed and we started to follow a guy to apartment for an after party. He promptly (and drunkenly) fell of his skateboard. Hilarious to see. When we realized no one was following the three of us, Juan and I skipped out on the guy and went back to the bar where we found the other group who had several girls with them. We all stumbled to a late late bar where I apparently just walked right through the security without paying the Ten Euro cover fee to enter. Before I could buy a drink the hot blond in our group bought me one, and she, her friend, Juan, and myself went out onto the dance floor to the pounding thumps of techno. The girl I was dancing with killed the mood when she showed me her engagement ring. So I went to the basement to take a piss, encountering some Finnish sailors puking in the restroom. So then I talked to them and by the time I got back upstairs this bar was now closed. I still had my half empty drink sitting on a speaker somewhere near the dance floor and god-damned drinks are so expensive here that I was determined to go get it. But before I could get to it, a bouncer clothes-lined me and forcibly removed me from the bar. In the street I chatted up a pale white goth from Russia while the Argentinian stuck his tongue down the Russians dudes girlfriend's throat. The Russian guy nonchalantly sucked down his cigarette, his eyes glazed milky with alcohol. I eventually got Juan to say ciao, I saluted the Finnish sailors, and the two of us shuffled (stumbled really) our was back to the hostel, somewhere off in the dark down some alley street. We found the hostel and realized we couldn't get in without the pass-code, so Juan smoked as the two of us did our best to carry on an absurd conversation using each-others language best we could. We were quite the sight, and were told so when a group of people came out of the hostel, letting us in. It was 4am.
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