It’s been awhile, but I’m back. Where did I leave off?
Ah yes. The date was 8 August 2018, and I was about to leave Tallinn, Estonia and return to the United States of America after four months overseas.
Better late (I’m writing this on 6 November 2018) than never, I guess. Here’s how my journey home went.
I strapped on my manpurse and my Rick Steves Europe Through the Back Door backpack, left my dingy Airbnb in Tallinn’s Old Town, and walked less than a mile to Tallinn’s ferry terminal on a sunny, chilly morning. (I know, I know. I don’t do mornings. Unless there’s a plane, train, or ferry to catch.)
Here’s a view from on board my ferry, looking back at Tallinn Ferry Terminal and the Old Town looming behind it (8 August 2018).
I had already made my reservation online, so I just printed out my ticket at one of the kiosks inside the ferry terminal, airline-style. Then I waited to board (8 August 2018).
It’s more modest than the many huge cruise ships that dock here in Tallinn, but the ferry to Helsinki is nonetheless one big boat (8 August 2018).
And so, on my way out, for the first time during this trip, I took an inter-city ferry (the ferry across Kaohsiung Harbor in Taiwan doesn’t count). The Viking Line ferry from Tallinn to Helsinki, Finland doesn’t have seat reservations unless you book an expensive private room. So I spent the 50-mile journey across the Gulf of Finland variously pacing the (multiple) decks, watching first Tallinn shrinking and vanishing on the horizon and later Helsinki growing ever closer. And, to feel like I got my money’s worth, I explored the entire interior of the ship as well.
You’re technically not supposed to sit at the tables near the cafeteria and various restaurants on the ferry unless you buy something from said cafeteria or restaurant. But I didn’t let that stop me (8 August 2018).
This ferry has a full-size supermarket inside, as well as smaller shops, arcade games, and video gambling machines (8 August 2018).
Upon arrival in Helsinki, I took my time walking through town, making sure to take a few minutes to enjoy one last spectacular European central square on my way to the airport.
Pulling up to the pier (8 August 2018).
Helsinki Cathedral overlooks the city’s main square. I believe the buildings surrounding the square include the Finnish parliament. But I didn’t buy a guidebook for Helsinki, so don’t quote me on any of that (8 August 2018).
I was here (8 August 2018).
Helsinki’s impressive main train station, where I hopped on a metro train to the airport. Again, not having a Finland or Helsinki travel guide, I was flying by the seat of my pants on this leg of my journey. I bought a ticket that I think was for the airport train, and I boarded. Fortunately no one on board checked my ticket (8 August 2018).
One more airport (8 August 2018).
The plan was to fly to Boston from Helsinki via Reykjavik, Iceland. And, as has often occurred with my well-laid plans, these went awry, thanks to flight delays. Thank goodness for airport lounges!
My flight’s delayed? I guess it’s the universe telling me to drink more (8 August 2018).
But finally, my flight took off (8 August 2018).
On arrival in Reykjavik, one last “first” for this trip: I missed my connection. I had a close shave at Warsaw Airport back in June when, after sprinting through the airport following my delayed flight from Cluj, I caught my flight to Prague with two minutes to spare. This time, in Reykjavik, my luck ran out, despite another sprint.
Iceland is not a big country, and Reykjavik is not a big capital. So I figured there couldn’t be more than one flight to Boston a day. That was the expectation I took with me when I went to the Icelandair customer service counter. But lo and behold, the next flight to Boston was just two hours after my flight had been scheduled to leave! So I ended up arriving home just two hours later than scheduled, after all that.
I had to sweat one more time as I stood in a very long line at customs at Logan Airport, nervously checking my watch, knowing that I still needed to catch a bus to Portland, Maine, where my parents would meet me and drive me back to their suburban home for my vacation from my vacation. After waiting seemingly forever, when I finally met a customs official, he waved me right through with hardly a glance at my passport. I hopped on my bus and, two hours later, I was in Maine.
And that’s where I’ve been since.