In Helsinki the weather pattern shifts....and not for the better. Recently in the Baltic our days start cool and cloudy only to warm and brighten as the day progresses. Today the start is the same...except a little cooler, but the day does not brighten or warm. In fact, it becomes cooler, more overcast and wetter as the day wears on. The tour I’m on does not give a lot of time to explore the town on foot and with the flat lighting; the picture opportunities aren’t too exciting. But I get a little bit of the history of Finland and a chance to see the main areas of the town.

Our tour guide is a lady whose name is pronounced “Rrrrippsue”...or something very close to that....with several seconds of rolling R’s at the beginning. She tells us the name in Finnish means “the leftover small amount of coffee in the bottom of the cup”. So, apparently the term “dregs” has a more intimate and cute meaning in Finnish than in English. 

From her I learn that Finland was the eastern-most province of Sweden from 1140 to 1809. In 1809 it was ceded by Sweden to Russia where it was an autonomous region under the Tsars until 1917. During the Russian Revolution Finland became an independent nation. It was a cold, rough and thinly populated nation....one that even now contains only 5.2 million people, of whom 1 million live in the city of Helsinki.

The main attractions in Helsinki are the ornate Russian Orthodox Church, the main Lutheran Church and the Church In The Rock (an underground church carved out of solid rock).....rather interesting, since Fins seldom actually go to church....but I guess they appreciate the history and the architecture. 

Just a quick note about my new dinner companions: there are two Canadians, two Brits and two Americans. The Canadians are friendly and talkative....well, the lady is very talkative and the man might be, if he could get in a word now and then past his wife....but he rarely can, so he sits, smiling, with infinite patience, waiting his turn to speak....which after 3 nights, still has not come. The Brits are a little reserved and speak quietly, but when they speak, it is to say something interesting or funny. The Americans are.....well, Americans....who like all Americans on this ship, seem to have retired to Florida after spending their lives in New York.  Note to the Daughters of the Confederacy: Now would be a good time to counter-attack. All the Yankees have left town and are on this ship.

I would like to hear from the Canadian man....I may have to try to catch him after dinner some evening when he is allowed to speak....he is a retired Royal Canadian Mounted Policeman. He should have some interesting stories. In fact his wife said that she wants him to write his memoirs because he “had some exciting times”. But, unfortunately, she hasn’t given him enough speaking time at dinner to get past the “Hello, my name is ...” stage. But I did find out that in his part of Canada (they are from the Alberta region) the town he was assigned to did not have a police force of its own so the RCMP handled all police matters and there were just 40 RCMP officers for a town of 60,000 people....and they also covered the immediate countryside around the town. So, I suspect they were a busy little group.

But unless I can get some quality time with the ex-Mountie I don’t think this table will provide the same entertainment value has my previous companions....although they may be infinitely easier for me to bear.  

I did discover the reason for the “no clean towels while in St. Petersburg” situation that our cabin steward told us about. It seems that all laundry and non-essential water usage is prohibited to conserve the ship’s water supply. That leads me to believe that the water supply in Russia is either not adequate for our needs or is controlled by the Russian Mafia and priced too high for Princess to accept. In any event we will be on rationing, of a sort, while docked in Russia. And this evening the promised “contraband towels” to tide me and my above average bathing habits through the Russian laundry crisis appeared in the cabin.....Carmen the cabin steward is on her toes and watching out for me as we sail through the night to the other side of the former Iron Curtain.