walk through space, time stands still

I drag myself out for a walk. Past the red-brick prison walls, past the small-boat harbour, on along the seafront. The trees are a silent explosion in yellow and red next to the grey velvet of the water. I hear silly lyrical phrases float up inside my head and try to ignore them.

The sandy beach next to the great hospital complex is empty. I doubt that the nudists still occupy the bath house next to it - they are hardy ladies who have probably just moved on to the private sauna of the ice bathing club at the other main beach, where they fry themselves in the sauna before going for a dip in the sea - the colder, the better. At least they wear their swim suits during the winter. Many of my friends also display a manic love of this extreme behaviour. Now, with the winter approaching fast, the sea will soon freeze and the excited souls will cut up a hole in the ice. In fact, almost half of the country seems to have picked up this strange habit during the years that I was in exile. What happened during that time? Was Finland exposed to radiation from a Russian nuclear disaster or was everybody abducted and replaced by aliens?

I walk back home through a part of the city, past the indoor swimming pool and the Greek-Orthodox church, while I plan my simple dinner - cucumber and ready-made pizza. Maybe accompanied by a glass of rosé. I pass ugly 1960s apartment buildings and 19th century former factory buildings, now transformed into enchanting apartments. The traffic is heavy, at least as heavy as it ever gets in this tiny city. The old wooden barracks of what used to be an army base are being done up as well, to equally lovely residences. Top-notch apartments in hundred-year-old buildings are the big thing here.

People are hurrying home from work or university classes, hurrying to the gym or the community college, walking their dogs.

Sometimes I feel at home with this. Sometimes it's all alien.