(no subject)

In the morning I set out with Tony and Steffan to perform some errands before departing Kristinehamn: to buy some things (toothpaste and saltfish for Kristen, the two things she had requested from the West), to activate my Handelsbank ATM card, and to download the images from my camera. We were successful with the first of these endeavors except did not have time to download the pictures, which is unfortunate considering what was to occur later.

We really did have time to download the pictures, but we didn't know it. The bus towards Stockholm was forty-five minutes late on account of the snow. When we got to the bus station and the bus hadn't arrived at five past its supposed departure time we figured that the bus had been canceled or something. I called them up and asked if there was a bus from Kristinehamn and the woman on the phone just said "no" and hung up. Steffan called and got an entirely more helpful response, and the person he talked to even offered to call back with a status update after talking to the bus driver, and even promised to do what she could to insure that I didn't become stranded at Kristinehamn. I guess I should try speaking Swedish more often.

In any case the bus arrived and I was off to Stockholm for the wonderfully reasonable fare of just 160 crowns ($16). It would have been even less except the period between Christmas and New Year was considered a holiday.

The bus ride was quite comfortable and the view from the bus tremendously beautiful: endless clean and fresh white fields of snow, with little bunches of forest here and there, and the Swedish houses all bright red and yellow, and the setting sun in the distance.

The bus, however, was very late, and by the time we reached Stockholm, it was nearly two hours late, an unspeakable lateness for a Swedish bus. By luck the bus I was on was associated with Viking Line and so there was a connecting bus to the docks to catch my boat. Aggressive driving got us to the ship the moment it was supposed to set sail, with the driver honking at slow drivers and cruising through intersections while lights turned red. I ran on board showing only my printed out booking number from the Internet as a ticket, just as they were about to retract the gangplank.

In some fit of erratic behavior I actually paid my fare, to a confused receptionist who didn't understand how I had boarded without having done so previously. It was an entirely optional procedure and afterwards I felt like a tremendous sucker, having passed up a free boat trip, despite the abysmally low esteem in which I normally hold fare-evaders.

I had expected there to be seating somewhere on the ship, but there wasn't, and I was a little confused about the whole ferry crossing process. Maybe that's why I paid. Anyway, I exchanged my remaining eighty swedish crowns for forty-seven finnish marks and stashed my backpacks in a locker in return for a ten mark coin. On my mobile telephone, which is now lost somewhere amidst the crazed post-Soviet district of Lasnamäe, I called Tony and called Home to let everyone know I'd successfully made the boat connection.

(Whenever I mentioned ``baltic ferry'' to anyone at home, they were always quick to mention the alleged `danger' of these crossings, a reputation earned one stormy night in September 1994. In one of the worst naval disasters of modern times, the Estonia, while crossing the Baltic from Tallinn to Stockholm, capsized and sank. Responding to the Mayday calls from Estonia at 01:22, other Baltic ferries rushed to the scene. Viking Lines' Mariella arrived less than an hour later. By noon the next day there were nineteen ships and nineteen helicopters in the rescue operation, but in the end only 137 of the 989 people known to have been on board were saved. The `final report' tells the whole story, or so much of it as is known , and a website presents other materials too. The Mayday call is still creepy.)

For the first hour I explored the ship, all the decks and so forth. After that hour I had had enough and was already tired of the ship, wishing it would go faster. (This is kind of amusing if you remember that I've been telling me roommates for some time that I'd really like to cross the ocean in a ship.. but I still think that would be neat. I'd just bring a lot of books to read and things to think about...)

I had two drinks in the lounge and afterwards felt much better, much more relaxed. I went out on the stern again to see what was to be seen.

While I was out there a guy slipped on the icy, snow-covered deck and I exclaimed, ``Usch!'' and helped him up. ``Är du från Sverige?'' was his reply, and no sooner had I explained myself did he and his two friends, Swedes taking a kryssning to Finland and back just for the party, invite me to their cabin for something to drink. (``You can't be alone on this boat! Come with us!'')

All over the boat are posted signs saying that one is not allowed to drink the alcohol that one purchases in the tax-free store onboard, which is not just ridiculous but entirely laughable, because that's what everyone does: they load up on cheap booze in the on-board tax-free alcohol supermarket and then consume it in their cabin, with their friends.

So I joined these three Swedish guys in their cabin for some red wine. One of them found some girls in the hallway and invited them in too. But the girls were bitter, angry, and drunk, and left rather soon. The Swedes all polished themselves up, each setting his hair into the perfect sculpted position, brushing his teeth, etc, and then we all set out for the disco upstairs. And then this most amazing thing happened. Just as we came out of the staircase we ran into a group of four Finnish girls, the dominant one of whom immediately detected our Swedishness and exclaimed, ``Åh, mina Svenska pojkar!''

Groceries Toothpaste x 2, Lypsyl x 2, Godis x 2	SEK 123.50
COMVIQ refill	SEK 100
Bus ticket	SEK 160
To Tony	SEK 100
Boat ticket (mcard)	SEK 366
Currency exchange	SEK 80	(FIM ?)
Drinks on the boat (mcard)	EUR 9.00
Locker on the boat	FIM 20