Okay, maybe the title should be sung in actual person rather than used as a title. ANYWAY. Finland.
The flight from Hong Kong to Helsinki took a little over nine hours but it really felt like a lifetime. I was seated in between two burly men so eating meals made me feel like a T-Rex flying in from the jungles of Asia.
The Helsinki-Vantaa Airport looked unremarkabkle, if not third world-ish at first. The line for customs was long and the space was really cramped. However, the escalator going up the waiting area and the airport itself slowly disproved my initial impression. After passing through the immigration line, I was embraced by the sheer number of people flying in and from Helsinki. I really wanted to post pictures but my camera, not known for being dependable, did not save any photos I took of the airport.
The screen where they announced flight schedules and changes was as small as a one fourth cardboard box. With over a hundred flights (maybe) a day, it was kind of hard to keep track of where my flight was (there were four flights to Stockholm that day) boarding. Confident that I tracked down the correct gate number, I waited in line then realized, a bit too late, that I was in the wrong gate. With 15 minutes left before my flight leaves, I raced to the correct gate, jumping over sleeping tourists, bags, and old ladies hobbling along the airport. Then, when I got to the gate, I saw that the time printed on my ticket was about forty minutes too early...saved by an error I guess.
The flight from Helsinki to Stockholm Arlanda took forty five minutes. Before I knew it, I landed in Sweden and went out the airport and stepped into Purple Turban's hug. After almost 24 hours of travelling, I was home.
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