This was the final stop. I was on my way home—whatever that means now. I had no souvenirs, no itinerary to show, only a bag that had grown heavier with each border crossed. Not with objects, but with emotion. A slow accumulation of memory, bitterness, small mercies, and silence. The sun was shining. Summer had… Continue reading
Posts Tagged → Diary
XVII – A City of Contrast, and One Bitter Glass
I left Turku the next morning. The train hummed quietly toward Tampere, Finland’s second largest city. There was something soothing about the motion, the passing forests and lakes sliding by like breath. I felt calm, distant, anonymous. Just another traveler among many. No one knew me. No one asked. And that was a kind of… Continue reading
XVI – The Kind of Pain That Teaches
I didn’t book anything in advance, as usual. That’s never been my way. I prefer to walk until my legs begin to ache, then step into the nearest hostel and ask if there’s a bed available. This time, in Turku, I was lucky again. The receptionist—a quiet Finnish woman with glacier-blue eyes—told me that Room… Continue reading
XV – The Sound of Saxophones in Turku
I took a cruise back to Finland the next day, stepping off quietly at the harbor in Turku. The city met me like an old painting—odd, subdued, full of antique angles and forgotten stones. It felt more like a village than a capital. And yet, this was once the heart of the country, Finland’s very… Continue reading
XIV – Among Kings and Dust
The Royal Palace of Sweden doesn’t look like the kind of palace you’d expect. It’s not gold-drenched or gaudy. It doesn’t shout. It simply exists—dignified, symmetrical, stone-built, sitting atop Stockholm’s Old Town like it has nothing to prove. I stepped inside as just another visitor in a line of many, but with a mind full… Continue reading
XIII – The Nobel Museum: Reflections on Genius and Injustice
In the center of Stockholm’s Old Town stands the Nobel Prize Museum—quiet, noble, restrained. I entered not with excitement but with something else, something older. A trembling in my chest that felt like a memory. It took me back to a time I was barely more than a child—sick for a week, curled up in… Continue reading
XII – Vasa Museum: A Ship and a Life
The Vasa Museum was, without question, one of the most impressive sights of my life. Do you know why people sometimes choose to travel alone? For me, a solo journey is a way to release everything pent up inside: all the frustrations of personal life, the injustices I’ve witnessed—corruption, imprisonment, the endless cycle of power… Continue reading
XI – Stockholm Morning: The Sea of Birds and the Memory of Kings
Morning arrived in Stockholm with the gentle sound of the “Sea of Birds” — that’s what I call the place where gulls and swans gather, floating calmly between the city’s old piers and sleek ferries. I walked slowly through the oldest corners of the Old Town, marveling at the city’s quiet dignity. It’s impressive how… Continue reading
X – A Swedish Crossing
The ferry ride from Riga to Sweden was quiet, gentle.The sea was calm—gray, endless—mirroring the stillness I felt inside. I spent many hours perched up high, watching the ship’s wheel turn and the water boil beneath us.Thoughts came and went, bitter memories churning again and again, like old wounds opening in the salt air.But the… Continue reading
IX – Riga, Between Eras
I arrived in Riga, the bus rolling to a gentle stop—an old terminal, familiar in structure but somehow more elegant than the one in Tallinn.The pavement was clean, the shelters well-kept.Brightly painted benches.No graffiti.And flowers—flowers on every window, as if the city itself was proud of its face. There was a shuttle into town, but… Continue reading