Namur Day Trip with the Flatmates!

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Before my great big Baltic Adventure there was a day trip to Namur, it seems ages ago but I never had the chance to write about it here. It was the Saturday morning before my flight and I was sitting at my flat having coffee and breakfast with my flatmates. I knew that Madeline and Rickard were off to Namur for the day, partly because it would allow them to finally catch a train from the Gare de Brussels-Schuman near our house, and also to use up the last of Mads’ Belgium rail card. Namur is a city in southern Belgium which is called Waloonia, it is inhabited by French-speaking Belgians which are distinct from the Dutch speaking Belgians in northern Flanders. Generally the Dutch Belgians are more well-to-do than the Southern Waloonians, and so we were all suspicious that Namur would be run-down and dirty. However Namur is the capital of Waloonia so we were pleasantly surprised.

We caught the train near our house and travelled South. The first thing that struck us is how modern the train station appeared, with its steel catwalks and glass elevator, it seemed quite of place for Belgium. Like many old European towns, Namur has its old buildings and narrow streets. It’s a sunny day so we stop to lunch at a resteraunt called “Maman’s” with a restaurant named “Pappa’s” just opposite. We sit outside and I order what the Brits would call a “Jacket Potato”, but in England this usually entails a baked potato sliced with a filler such as cheese or chilli. I was charmed when I was presented a hollowed out bake potato filled with diced chicken cooked in a dijon mustard, topped with whipped potatoes, which was re-baked to brown the top, along with a nice salad J

We walk along the river canal (the Meuse) to see the main attraction of Namur, a medieval era citadel built atop the hill. The Citadel had seen many battles (including a 3 day battle against advancing German troops in WW2). After climbing up the stairs and long ramps I could immediately sympathize with every poor French/Spanish/German/Belgian bugger in uniform who was tasked with charging up to the walls while being fired at from above.

We walk around the Citadel past its draw bridge and up to the top where a former residence is now a perfume house. A small tourist train-bus carts people about through the tunnels and roads on the top. We take in the view and some photos before walking back through the town to return to Brussels.

End of the Baltic Adventure

It’s the perfect lazy morning, the official checkout is noon but I figure we have until at least 1 without facing any hassles from the front desk. We head to the train station to figure out which buses we should take, Tatevik needs to take a bus to her ferry terminal for the ship to Tallinn, and I need to go to the Ryanair airport which is predictable 90 minutes away in the middle of nowhere. I buy my ticket and take Tatevik to lunch, in retrospect we probably should have gone to the café at the main cultural centre (something along the lines of the Pompidou centre in Paris), but we opt for the Mongolian BBQ, partly because Tatevik has never had it before, and partly because I’m a sad sucker for all-you-can-eats. Very full, we walk back to the station and wait for my bus to arrive. Tatevik’s leaves shortly after mine but she waits with me on the bus platform for a long time. The bus station also has airlock doors and I’m worried about her ability to get back into the station (there was not button to open it from the outside), but she gets in alright, it was such a nice trip, which makes the goodbye so hard.

The bus ride is long since the airport is so far away, out in the country there is still snow on the ground. I board my plane and sit by the window, a girl sits next to me and asks “you live with Madeline right?” I turn around and I don’t recognize the face at first, but some small talk jiggles the memory loose, Place Luxembourg where all the Brussels youth go for their Friday pints. Madeline’s friend Liliane, by a strange coincidence, was in Stockholm the weekend I was, went to see music at the same bar as I was, had her birthday on Sunday as mine was, took the same Ryanair flight as I did, and sat next to me.

Its soooo weird.

Liliane was spending the weekend with her boyfriend, and three of us are Brussels bound so we make a pack and head to the coach for town. All in all the expedition takes over 5 hours, but I’m finally back in Brussels, ready for bed.

April 8 - Stockholm Day 3 (Aka Happy Birthday to me!!!)

Photo 1:
http://lse.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2031364&l=76286&id=37002455
Photo2:
http://lse.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2032033&l=5f30f&id=37002455

Twenty-four, its an odd age, I’ve personally found that as I get older there aren’t the same landmarks for each year. As a kid each year feels like something new, and I would often feel that even the difference of one grade was a huge gap. The landmarks I see are as follows:

Age 8: I turn 8 on the 8th, that’s pretty cool
Age 10: Double digits
Age 13: Teenager
Age 16: Can apply for a learners’ license
Age 18: Rated R movies, voting, bars in Quebec
Age 19: Bars in Ontario, full adult privileges in Canada
Age 20: No longer a teen, adulthood
Age 21: Full adult privileges in the US

However 22, 23, and now 24 sorta mould together into a continuum simply known as the “early 20’s”. They have been the most fun years I think I’ve ever had, and probably the ones were I grew the most in ways that I decided for myself. I’m looking forward to 25 when I can finally rent a car…

We start the day by checking out, we make a big breakfast to use up all the food we left in the fridge, big egg and cheese sandwiches using ungodly amounts of cheddar. We haul our bags down to the Sheraton and are pleased to learn that our room is available for check-in right away. Our room was on a discount, because instead of looking at the sea it looks at another building, and its got an odd smell, not a really bad one, just one that you notice and then you get used to it after 5 minutes and don’t re-notice it until you leave. It may not be the “5 Stars” that it advertises itself as, but its still got a big huge double bed and its right in the centre. We have to hustle right away though, our Stockholm cards will expire soon and there’s one last attraction we hope to see. The guided tour of the Stockholm City hall, where the dinner for the Nobel Prize is given. We arrive just before the noon tour but are told that its already full, using my smiling powers of persuasion I ask if we can buy the tickets for the 2pm tour, using our Stockholm cards now (which were due to expire in about 30 min), The guide agrees and we get our tickets. With a couple hours to kill we wander to the back garden that looks onto the sea and take photos, the sun is out and it feels warmer. We catch the bus and take a look at the dance museum, and then inadvertently take a free look at the Mediterranean Museum as well. Back at the city hall we take the tour through the building’s many decadent rooms, even though it appears old it was actually built in the early 20th century. Leaving the City Hall we visit the Museum of Medieval Stockholm, passing by the water we can actually see men standing up to their thighs in the stream, fishing.

We head back to the Absolut Ice Bar, when we were turned away the previous night I asked if I could make a booking for Sunday, but apparently they were full. We decide to show up anyways though and try our luck, the lady at the desk tells us that a family with a child went in and they might not stay their entire 45 min slot, so that if we wait we can take theirs. We wait on the couch and luckily she’s right, so we head to the back where they hand us large overcoats with a hood to put on, flashy silver with a fake fur trim. There’s an airlock door to keep the cold air of the bar inside, we step and head to the ice bar. The pricey admission at least comes with your first drink, all made with Absolut, and all pretty good looking, I get a spiced Caesar served in an ice glass, square shaped with hole drilled in the middle. The glasses are actually quite useless in terms of design, it’s a square shape which is difficult to hold, and because its made of ice you only want to handle it with your gloves. There’s ice bar tables but they are starting to melt making their tops slippery, Tatevik only gets through about half of hers before the ice glass slides and shatters on the floor! Still the atmosphere is neat, an ice bench at the back has fur pelts on it and the ice is designed with citrus slices, shapes of bottles, and some cubes have lights installed in them. Its pure novelty, more of a photo op than anything else, even though much of the ice was melting it was quite chilly though, and when our times comes up we we’re happy to go into the slightly above freezing weather outside.

Later in the evening Tatevik and I head to a music venue not far from the Katarina lift, where we listen to some local Swedish talent play their tunes. The bar is cool, in many ways it reminds me of the Troubadour Café near my flat in London, though much nicer since it isn’t in a basement. Unfortunately we head off a little early to return to our hotel where we hoped to use the hotel’s spa, but most sadly it was closed for renovations. We take a drink at the hotel bar near the fireplace, sipping amaretto and slightly sad that tomorrow the vacation ends.

Day 2 - Making the most of the Stockholm Day Card!

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The Stockholm Day card gives the bearer entrance to over 75 attractions and free metro rides, which is great but its bloody expensive (up to 540 SEK for 72 hours), I normally shy away from spending money on a pass and instead opt for the flexibility of just going with the flow, but the cost of Stockholm is such that we could easily surpass the cost of that card, and so we accept that we will at least buy the card for 24 hours (290 SEK). Our goal thus became to gain the biggest value for our money, with our cards bought yesterday, a map, and a opening schedule (as a holiday weekend many are on reduced hours), we begin by hustling to catch a morning boat tour. The list of activities would be too long to run through, so in very simple graph form we did:


Cost of Stockholm Card: 290 SEK
Value of stuff we did 1020 SEK (3.5 times the value of the card)

As you can see we power-toured our asses off, in fairness the Statdshuset was done the following day (as a 24 hour card it was still valid the next morning). All in all the greatest value was for the palace, because the palace is a must see and because it is actually considered to be 4 attractions each with its own admission price (Apartments, Foundation, Treasury, Armoury). The most impressive display was the Vasa, however housing it by itself in a museum seem to be stretching it a little far (a whole museum dedicated to a ship that sink the Stockholm harbour….), Skansen was also great fun and struck me as a place that would nice to visit in summer. The aquarium offered us some welcomed warmth (its like a rain forest in there), and had a very nice coffee shop with tables right on the sea.

After our power trip we head back to the hostel to make some pizzas and are resolute about going out for the night. I flip through our options and feel that the Absolut Icebar is a great place to get started, however the bar is packed and waiting list is long, the bar can only hold about 30 people and they can stay as long as they like (unlike non-weekends when the max is 45 min). We decide to head off to the Opera House bar supposedly very chic, but a long walk. We get there and are told that the bar is booked for an event, guest list only. Feeling both cold, and frustrated, we finally opt for a bar having a student night. I am slightly unimpressed and probably more moody than I should have been, still we have a beer, have a dance, and head back.

Arrival Stockholm

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We awake on the ship to watch the small islands of the Swedish inlet pass by. The route to Stockholm requires the ship to slow down and navigate the many channels leading to the city. Having passed the time-line, we have gained an hour on our morning and thus have extra time to pack up and take a quick look on the top deck as the ship pulls into port. I’m disappointed that unlike in Helsinki, the port we have come into is quite far from the city, in an industrial looking area. We head towards the information and desk and I instantly regret not having consulted them the night before when there was no one, the line at the desk is quite long. The ship has organized a bus to take passengers to the city centre for only 3 euros, and so we rush down and are among the last to climb on. Dropping us at the central train station, we try to gain our bearings to make our way to our hostel. I had booked us a private room at the Långholmen, a hotel and hostel built inside a converted prison. My flatmate Katarina had recommended the place as being inside a nice park, which I’m sure it is in summer, but now it seems a bit of a trek and too far from the city centre. We get a bit lost which dampers our enthusiasm, and are instantly shocked that our metro ride to the hostel costs 80 Kr for two (about 9 euros). However we realize that we had in fact been sold a ticket for all regions in Stockholm (whereas we only needed region 1), even so we realize that this town is quite a bit more expensive than our previous destinations, in fact it is almost comparable to London.

We finally find the hostel but immediately start considering switching, the trek was demoralizing and we realize that if we are out late we may face a difficult return home. On the plus side the metro runs until 3am in Stockholm, an unheard of time in Europe! Our room is a former jail cell which in itself is quite novel, but as far as hostels go it is actually closer to a hotel. Linens and towels do cost extra to rent, however we have an en-suite bathroom and shower, a small flat screen on the wall, a desk, and other amenities one never receives at a hostel. The only downside is the size of the room, with bunk beds (we push the top one into the wall), there is only a small distance between the bed and the wall.

We decide to head out and start by looking into another hostel, the only other hostel which interest me is City Backpackers located near the train station which is very well reviewed on the hostel websites, however they are full, so we accept our “imprisonment” at Långholmen for at least the 2 nights. One the 3rd night I have the Sheraton booked as a birthday present to myself.

We buy metro day cards, mostly out of the shock at our 40 Kr single trip, which makes the 90 Kr day pass seem a bargain (though our calculations were off). We ride the metro back to Gamla Stan, the island containing the Palace and historical centre. We stroll about but the wind is cold and it actually begins to snow, further dampening our moods. To seek shelter from the wind we stumble into a side door of a building to find ourselves inside the Stockholm Cathedral (Storkyrkan), the building built in 1279 offers us some peace and warmth, and we slowly wander to appreciate it. Heading back outside we walk up towards the palace and stumble upon a changing of the guard, the sentries wear blue uniforms and helmets which remind me of the German ones from the first world war (with the little spike on the top). Unlike British sentries, these guards are free to move their legs about, smile back at tourists and even talk, it seems a bit lax, but then again it’s a bit of an archaic tradition anyways. Since we are headed to the palace tomorrow anyways we head off.

Tatevik visited Stockholm a few years ago with her family and recalls a shopping street under an arch. So we head to the main train station to inquire at the tourist office. The lady believes that she might know what Tatevik is referring to and circles a spot on a map she gives us. We also repay our 2nd visit to the cash machines and exchange offices, having quickly used up what the Kroners we had. We walk to the arch and the shopping street but it doesn’t seem to be what Tatevik remembered, we walk along past the shops and Tatevik buys a fleece headband to keep her ears warm, a red one to match her coat.

We ride the metro south, only because I had heard from several people that “the south is cool”. However we have no idea what we are specifically headed to. We exit by pure chance at the Katarinahissen, a giant outdoors elevator that my flatmate Katarina had mentioned to me. The landscape is such that a giant hill is right behind to road on the coast, there is a winding path leading up to the top of that hill, however the lift goes straight up 83 meters and then has a bridge that takes you to the top of the hill. We ride up to take in the views of the old town and wander, as I vaguely recall my flatmate Rickard telling me that there is a nice place for “cakes and tea” and a park behind the elevator. Certainly there might be in the summer, but the wind keeps people indoors, and so we walk to the nearest park which turns out to be a church with a large cemetery. From outside the church we can hear a classical concert being held and we peek inside, but aren’t interested in buying tickets. We meander down to a main square with a shopping centre, but everything is closed. Feeling a little exhausted we take the metro back to a grocery store to buy food for dinner and return to the hostel.

Cooking in the hostel we make a mushroom soup and some chicken, we’re eating when Harry Potter comes on, We finish watching the movie in our room and are on the verge of getting ready when Silence of the Lambs comes on, while we both know we ought to go out, I am tired, and Tatevik is still suffering her cold, so we opt for rest.

Night Ferry Helsinki-Stockholm

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I am instantly so incredibly glad that we did our ferry check-in first thing in the morning and have our key cards, the crowd is enormous, easily a few hours in length. We get our stuffed bags out of the luggage locker and head to the gate, the man checking the tickets says “Hey!” instantly causing Tatevik to stop in her tracks, but as we would later learn “Hey” is the Swedish version of “Hi” apparently.

As we cross up the ramp photographers take snapshots of all the passengers, for sale later on. The photographer catches Tatevik and I mid-stride carrying all our bags, it’s a pretty expensive picture at nearly 10 euros. The photographers print all the photos and pin them up and while handling the large A4 clip it struck me as a pretty nice memento, and buy it. Later on Tatevik and I would have a contest to try and find the worst photos, some people were certainly caught with less than their best smile, a whole wall of scowls, confused looks, kids picking their noses, etc.

We board the ship and head to our cabin on the 6th deck, we’ve got a seaside cabin and you can still see Helsinki out the starboard window (I think starboard is left..) Tatevik is exhausted and still feeling her cold, so she slumps on the bed while I head to the top deck to see the harbour a last time. I walk the windy deck taking photos of this and that and head back in too. I lie down next to Tatevik and fall asleep, only waking to hear the faint rumble of the engines and to see the scenery slowly move past out the window.

We wake up and unfortunately high winds are causing a noticeable tilt in the ship. I don’t really mind but since Tatevik isn’t feeling well anyways we get her a pill for motion sickness. We walk the decks to explore the ship, there’s a cinema showing movies but its 10 euros for a ticket, the same is true of spending 1 hour in their pool up top. Instead we head to the lower deck and buy some duty free for our room. Loaded with booze and snacks we make a few drinks and head out to catch the last few minutes of the tight rope walking act. Afterwards we watch a “preview” of the midnight show which really should have been a warning to avoid it later on. We head on to the top deck where they have Karaoke but all the singers are doing Finnish songs, so its not only bad singing but also boring. We head down to the Irish pub and watch curling on TV as Tatevik slowly gets sleepy. She takes a power nap while I finish my beer and her shandy, while listening to the troubadour sing old Elvis classics. Tatevik comes down refreshed and we waste time, playing slot machines and air hockey, until finally the midnight show comes…imagine the worst opera-style singing and cheesy wardrobe, and then mix in some dance numbers, and you basically have the midnight show…at least we had some good seats.

A shot at the bar helps me loosen up before breaking out my disgraceful moves on the top deck dancefloor, before finally calling it a night…

Helsinki

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We catch an early bus down to Tallinn’s ferry terminal and board the ship, no one even bothers to check our tickets. I receive yet another stamp in a passport that’s quickly losing its empty pages.

The ship is run by Viking Lines, and its got all the kisch that you’d expect with a name like that. A stale orange/red carpet on the ship, some video-poker terminals where some fat guys from a biker gang are playing, and the smell of old cigarettes everywhere. We briefly see the top deck but its far too windy, we try sleeping in the reclining chairs and succeed for a while, but some fat asshole keeps pushing his knees into the seat forcing me to sit up. After 20 minutes of a wordless battle, where I push down and he pushes up, I give up.

Tatevik heads for the loo and I take a moment to examine a noticeboard that lists the names of a few of the crew with their picture, all with Finish names and appearance. The captain, the chief engineer, and then I spot him, the cruise manager: Petri Lehtinen. The picture is straight from loveboat, in his double-breasted white navy coat and mic in hand, he looks like the typical cruise-ship-crooner. They even have POSTCARDS with his face on them available at the info desk, I pocket a couple for mementos. We spot him walking about, I suppose he only sings on the night cruises, I really wanted to ask him to autograph my postcard, but I sensed I wouldn’t be able to keep from cracking up.

We waste time in the duty-free shop, and sit to have a tea, Tatevik’s cold is obviously gaining on her. I teach her how to play penny-hockey with estonian crowns. Finally the ship comes to Helsinki’s post and we disembark.

Helsinki has the unique quality of being a port city that actually still has major ports in its old harbour. Many port cities usually had their harbour right in the centre of the city, where ships could efficiently offload their cargo onto the city’s docks. Nowadays however the ships are much bigger and usually cannot dock where old wooden ships once were, and the advent of large trucks makes transporting the goods from large shipyards much easier, so most “ports” are enormous parking lots out in the middle of nowhere (aka see Dover). However Helsinki’s port area is still wide enough to allow the docking of the ferries, so you step off the ship and you are almost right in the middle of town. In fact on a warm day it would be a pleasant stroll into the city, but unfortunately our day is windy and chilly, but luckily still sunny. We want to drop our heavy bags in the luggage locker, so we start the walk across the harbour to our Stockholm bound ship. It’s a long walk along the water with the wind gusting, and Tatevik’s mood seems every bit affected by it. So to gain a moment of reprieve we pass through an old fish market, now converted to sell artisan breads, cheeses, and other delicacies. We finally reach our ferry terminal and pick up our boarding passses and stuff all our bags into a single locker.

The first few steps when you are free of luggage are always the best, so its with a better mood that we walk back out. The terminal is adjacent a hill and we walk up it to get a full view of the ship we will take this evening, it is much nicer than the one we came in on. The hills leads to the back of a park and we stroll down and walk towards the most visible landmark on the skyline, the Helsinki Cathedral. The Cathedral is located on Senate Square and it is built atop a massive staircase which elevates the Cathedral far above the surrounding buildings, even from the front door it is almost possible to see atop all the port buildings to the sea. From there we walk down a little directionless since we don’t have a map, but we eventually make our way to the train station where we drop into the tourist office to pick up some info. We don’t have many hours in Helsinki and Tatevik is cold and tired already, so we head into a coffee shop first to gain our bearings. The coffee shop is very modern and well lit from floor to ceiling windows, we sit and the sun and begin to warm up. The one sight we choose to see is the Temppeliaukio Church, built into bedrock in the centre of the city. We stroll from the Parliament building until we find the church, we walk along the bedrock roof and down the side into the entrance. The church itself is quite simple, a hole built into rock, with a large copper roof, and a ring of skylight windows letting light in from above. Tatevik sits in the pews resting, she’s obviously not well and while I would have liked to also see the Uspenski Orthodox Cathedral, it is in the opposite direction of our ship. So we walk in search of a public loo (which is probably the single most irritating thing to do in Europe), and hop the tram back to our ship.

Tallinn Day 2

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The day starts with a visit the Estonian open air museum (Eesti Vabaõhumuuseum), a park which has collected buildings from Estonia’s past, mostly huts and lodges that once dotted the countryside. I’d forgotten my wallet but Tatevik lends me a hundred crowns, but I feel unwilling to part with any of it. So when we board the bus I don’t validate my bus ticket, so I can use it later on. Of course I freak out when inspectors board the bus right near the museum, I try to run for the validating machine but an inspector is there already, so I take a nervous seat and when one comes to me I offer a ticket I had used earlier in the morning, I had stamped it incorrectly but the time reads that it was used about 40 minutes ago, I’m hoping that the tickets are valid for about an hour. In any event the inspector hands it back to me to my great relief since a big fine is the last thing I really wanted.
The air is cold but its sunny, and we walk along the paths to all the old style cottages and huts which are locked up until summer. We do find a few buildings open, one of the many “summer kitchens” has its door open, something along the lines of a wooden tipi. We walk a long way to get a bus back into town and stop off at the monument of the Liberation Soldier, a statue of a Soviet soldier commemorating those that died fighting the Nazis. The soldier is currently a source of controversy because some Estonian politicians have called for its removal as a symbol that glorifies Russia’s occupation of Estonia. The debate opens old wounds for the country which has a sizeable Russian minority of nearly 30%, whose complaints of mistreatment are keenly heard by politicians back in Moscow. For now though the soldier still stands, with an emblem of the sickle and hammer behind is head, and fresh flowers at his feet.

We stroll through the centre some more and go to a small café to warm ourselves up. Tatevik and once mentioned she had a hot-chocolate with cheese there to which I made a face somewhere between disgust and disbelief. Of course I had to order it myself and it was damn tasty, served in a tall glass with a cinnamon stick. Tatevik opts for the Chilli hot chocolate, and I order a few chocolates that come served in a silver plate. The café has that stale decadence to it, ornate furniture, cushions, drapes, cushions. Everything in there was probably once in the house of some rich person, but now its worn and old and is all cobbled together in a strange mix.

We walk out to catch a bus towards an old burned out monastery or church, not far from where we saw the Tsar’s Tallin home. Unforunately it is gated for the winter, and we can only see it from the outside, the building is a stone shell windowless and roofless, a ruin, but still quite striking. Tatevik tells me that the church was burned as part of a love story. We walk to the river where old men have their fishing lines into the sea, and we walk under the bridge to reach the opposite side of the road to catch your bus back. Its still windy and cold so we step into a shop for a moment, and I buy an Estonian drinking snack, a plastic tub of hard rye bread soaked in an oil, similar to eating crutons, they apparently go well with beer, but smell a lot.

Back at home Tatevik’s symptoms start to worsen and we take her temperature and discover a low fever, the cold air had apparently take its toll. While we did have plans for going out at night we do have an early ferry to catch in the morning, and rather than exacerbate her immune system we opt to stay in for an early rise.