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Finnish Summer

It’s a cloudless crystal blue day in Helsinki. “It’s too hot,” says Tiina, walking me to a Nepalese restaurant for lunch. “I went for a sauna this morning. I think it was a mistake.” It’s 20 degrees C. Most Finns seem to be resolutely wearing their sweaters and jeans, defying the weather to return to normal. “It should be 15C and raining,” Tiina says, glaring at the sky.
Three hours of press today. Naturally enough, it was the one guy in the room with long hair, tattoos and black fingernails who was there to interview me first, and the guy with lip piercings to interview me second. The regular press, all dressed for days in regular offices, didn’t come near me. And I wore my good suit and everything.
The girl behind the bar has a bad tattoo under plastic sandwich wrapping and yellow masking tape on her shoulder. She doesn’t look happy. Nor should she. I’m in a place called ALE PUB, washing down the lamb and ginger from the Nepalese place with another local energy drink, called BATTERY. Which makes a little more sense than yesterday’s, which was called ED.
Tonight I go to some art event and then an opening party for the festival. Iselin just emailed to ask if I was drunk yet. Not yet, Ise. But soon. Very soon.

Published in mobilesignals