Arriving in Helsinki was a surreal experience – flying in over a snow-covered scene with a glassy, very still ocean surrounded by icy islands. It has clearly been snowing in the past few days as everything was white, except the roads, which had bee cleared. The flight ended with a jolt into winter- we had to walk across the snowy tarmac to a bus into the terminal. Clearly not many international visitors come to Helsinki by plane. The airport was quite small, with only five immigration clearance points. The best thing is that, although all the conversations around you are in what I presume is Finnish, if you speak English in the main they straight away switch and answer you effortlessly. It’s

The surprisingly comfortable train bed

industrial Northern China from the plane window

Finland from the air – a winter wonderland

Morning has broken on the train to Rovaniemi

Snow in northern China – readying me for Lapland

The sea really does freeze, at least in the harbour

amazing how similar things really are. Once I arrived in the centre of Helsinki and found a luggage locker in the station, I set about exploring the shopping district.

Stockmanns, the Finnish department store, looks just like David Jones – right down to the staff, with the exception of the flags on their name tags which inform what language they speak. And the fact that they have more boots than sandals, although no flat ones I liked that would fit me. I picked up a black woolen scarf, marked down and decided (after looking at the prices) to forgo the leather gloves and just go with the woolen ones I brought from home. Then it was out in search of the elusive flat, fur-lined boots. There are boots everywhere in Helsinki, including lace-up red patent gumboots for the snow. I contemplated these – they were my kind of statement shoe – but they were quite heavy, made of rubber and not really practical for anywhere south of Scandinavia. I settled on some black leather, fur lined boots with snow grip from din sko.

Dinner came from a Finnish fast food restaurant called Carolls that seemed to be very popular with the Finns. Next time I want a burger I’ll be sure to give it a miss. After dinner I took a look around. There is an open air skating rink in Helsinki’s central square but it’s not for novices. You have to bring your own skates and it has a really low wall surrounding it – about 30cm or so – not like the sides at the Phillip ice Skating rink that you can hang on to/ run in to. I also discovered a Texas barbeque restaurant that has outback ribs on the menu and serves fosters – talk about a clash of cultures.

Walking around Finland I felt very safe. Although I knew it was a foreign environment, to some degree it felt like home – Some of the brands were the same in the supermarket, some were different but there was breakfast cereal and jam and margarine. Curiously, at least half the cereal aisle was porridge. There was also half an aisle of pickled everything but I was expecting that. And cured reindeer meat. Reindeer are kind of like kangaroos around here – a loved symbol of the nation, plastered over everything from shot glasses to toilet roll holders yet still they make an appearance on the dinner table – without any guilt of eating Rudolf.

Back to the safety aspect. I felt very safe… until I went to the train station. Like all train stations in Australian capitals, Helsinki’s main train station was a magnet for the dodgiest of Finland’s residents. First an African guy, who said he was from Germany, struck up a conversation with me and straight off the bat asked if I was married. (Of course I told him I was). He then asked if I would help him get to Australia. I am sure the two questions were related. Clearly he doesn’t know much about the Australian immigration system… During this encounter, I was approached by two gypsy girls who were begging. One of them appeared to be pregnant and knew enough English to point that out. I told her I had no money and took my leave from him and rushed back inside. I had two hours to wait in the station so I found a bar and an English language version of the local paper and the global version of the NY Times.  I am sure the bar staff thought I was a junkie. I hadn’t had a shower or much sleep in the past 36 hours and I kept falling asleep at the table. At 10:15pm I got on the train and found my sleeping compartment. By 10:20pm, before the train even left the station, I was snoozing like a baby.