Sadly, for all the happiness it brings so many, Disneyland Paris rarely breaks even. In 2009 the park operated at a loss of 63 million euro, despite a gross revenue of 1,231 million euro. Most guests are local, either Belgian or French, and spend an average of 44 euro per person per day on adMsion, food, beverage and merchandise. With an annual pass only 34 euros more than a two-day ticket, I was very tempted to pick one up myself. However, as park entry is always included with the cost of a Disney hotel, there didn’t seem to be much point. Perhaps I should buy shares, though, while the price is low, and get my own piece of Disneyland.

We woke Ms 14 and gave her a difficult decision: to stay in bed, or to ride Space Mountain. Grudgingly, she chose to get up. After an hour revisiting Discoveryland at Parc Disneyland, it was time to venture over to Walt Disney’s Studio Park. As the weather was much nicer – above freezing with blue skies, the lines were enormous. The queue for Crush’s Coaster was 80 minutes, so we grabbed a Fast Pass for the Tower of Terror at 12:15 and headed over to the Rock ‘N’ Roller Coaster which had ‘only’ a 25 minute wait. This was quite an experience – in a giant dark building, we were dropped, spun, lifted, and twisted to the songs of Aerosmith and the beats of coloured lasers. With a maximum speed of 97 km/hour, a g-force of 4.5 g, and three inversions, this is the most intense rollercoaster of the two parks. While Ms 8 was very nervous before hopping on this ride, after a few seconds she screamed to me “This is Awesome!”, so after I knew that I didn’t have to worry about her I completely focused on my own screaming. We grabbed some more Fast Passes so that we could enjoy more “Love in a Rollercoaster” in the afternoon.

We popped in to see Stitch Live, and watched the animated alien onscreen conversing and interacting with audience members. I had read about the real-time animated digital puppet, and it was very impressive to see the instantaneous rendering and improvisation. Some of the young children interviewed didn’t speak English, so their parents had to answer for them. However, considering these kids were from the Netherlands, I’m guessing they’ll be fluent in a few short years.

For lunch we went to Restaurant des Stars, where we ate delicious food and I was able to meet the chef from Ratatouille.
“Bonjour Monsieur Remy” I said.
“Squeak!” he replied, twitching his whiskers
“Qu’avez vous cuisiné aujourd’hui?” What have you cooked today?“Squeak!” he gestured to the cheese around him.
“Fromage?”
“Squeak!” he nodded enthusiastically.

Even with a Fast Pass, the line for the Tower of Terror took 30 minutes. Poor Ms 8, the “scary” theming of some of the rides really terrified her. By the end of the line for Tower of Terror she was in tears. This put us in a difficult position. I told her to remember that she was similarly frightened before Phantom Manor, the Temple of Peril, and the Rock N Roller coaster, but after riding on them, she loved them so much she wanted to go back on straight away. However, we insisted that the final decision was always hers, and she could choose to skip the ride and wait for us at the exit. She had the courage to hop in many of the intense rides, but Space Mountain and the Tower of Terror were too much for her. She was brave enough to even get strapped into her elevator seat on the Tower of Terror, but at the last moment, she raised her hand and a staff member helped her out. I hope that she learned that she was in control of her choices, and the adults around her would respect her decision.

However, as soon as the elevator doors slammed shut on the Tower of Terror, I suddenly realized that I was also equally terrified, and now it was too late for me to do anything about it. The elevator began to rise up to the 13th floor, the doors opening every now and again to reveal impressive holograms of ghosts and apparitions. I didn’t care, because I knew that once we reached the top floor, the elevator was going to plummet to the ground. I grabbed the handle on the wall with both hands, so tightly Adrian thought I might rip it off. “No no no!” I shouted. “No no no no nooooo!”. As the doors opened up to reveal an otherwise breathtaking view over the park, I shut my eyes and screamed. I don’t remember much else from the ride, apart from a sensation of falling in the dark. Perhaps I should have waited by the exit, too.

While Adrian and Ms 14 returned for more thrills on the Rock N Roller Coaster, Ms 8 and I watched the motorbike and car stunt show spectacular. It was very impressive – fast manoeuvres, cars jumping over trucks, fireballs, and even a man on fire. After that, we decided to bite the bullet and line up for an hour for Crush’s Coaster. The girls were very good – I entertained Ms 8 with Coraline on my iPhone, and Ms 14 patiently chatted with us as the line inched forward. Finally, we were tucked into our turtle shell to enter the world of Finding Nemo. We floated past Dory and Marlin, glided under a sea of jellyfish, and swum beside Bruce the Shark, when suddenly, it turned into another ride altogether. Now it was a spinning, looping, dipping, scary rollercoaster in the dark with a disco-ball – not really ocean-themed at all. Why do the rollercoasters always have to go so fast?

We stayed warm during the sub-zero weekend thanks to the wonderful inventions of Hotties hand warmers and Toasti Toes. These single-use packages stay warm for up to five hours, and make all the difference when out in the cold. The Toasty Toes stick to your socks and get up to 36^oC, while the Hot Hands warm up to a fiery 57^oC. Having warm toes and hot pockets really took the edge off the ice and snow. I bought a box of them in bulk from the internet, and they will now accompany me whenever I need to venture outdoors for a few hours in winter.

One last rollercoaster for Adrian and Ms 14, a hot chocolate for myself and Ms 8, some last minute shopping (a CD of Disney songs sung in French), and then back onto the train to Belgium. We hopped onto the train at 5:40pm, and were walking through our front door at 8:00pm. The girls stayed up watching movies, but Adrian and I collapsed into bed, exhausted but accomplished.

The girls seemed to really enjoy their weekend. It seemed to comfort them to find a slice of North America in Europe, with English signs and American-style food options. The USA is often frowned upon by their new neighbours, so it was nice for them to see Europeans celebrating some aspects of American culture. The next time I saw Ms 8, she said “Lydia, I miss Disneyland”. “Me, too.” I replied.

For our very first trip to Disneyland Paris, Adrian and I invited two of our young Canadian-American-Belgian friends to join us. Ms 8 and Ms 14 were almost as excited to meet The Mouse as I was. Disneyland Paris is Europe’s most popular tourist destination, with 15.4 million visitors to the park last year, an average of 42,000 visitors per day. We were going on the first weekend of the February school holidays, and it was going to be packed. Detailed and precise planning was required. I hit up the various forums and review sites for tips and tricks to maximise our experience and minimize the hassle, and constructed an eight page plan for our 48 hours of magic.

I discovered that guests of the official hotels have access to Extra Magic Hours – entry to some of the rides two hours before the park officially opens. So we caught the train on Friday night, and we all went to bed early, ready to rise at 6:30 in the morning. Ms 14 is not a morning person, but I told her that if she woke up, she could have a present. I had bought us all crocheted mouse hats from Etsy, to keep us warm and get us in the spirit of the weekend.

At eight o’clock, we were the first guests to walk under the banner “Parc Disneyland” ( “they spelled it wrong”, remarked Ms 8). It was dark and freezing, but we had all of Main Street and its 225,000 lights to ourselves. We walked straight to Space Mountain: Mission 2, and rode the first shuttle of the day. It is an extraordinary ride, zooming past planets and asteroids, soaring through a sea of stars. Adrian laughed at me because I said that I wished that it would go a lot more slowly, so that I could enjoy the setting in a more relaxing atmosphere. As it was, I screamed and screamed through the 360 degree loops and turns. Adrian and Ms 14 repeated Space Mountain a couple more times while Ms 8 and I went off to experience some more gentle rides, like zapping aliens with Buzz Lightyear.

When Adrian couldn’t find me, he called me on my phone. I told him that I was in a spaceship, but he said that didn’t really narrow it down considering we were currently in Discoveryland. I spotted him down below me, and told him that I was up in the Orbitron, going around and around in the sky above. He spotted me and waved, and then chastised me for using a mobile phone while operating a spaceship.

Then it was onto Fantasyland, the fairy-tale village. We soared above the lights of London with Peter Pan, flew through the air with Dumbo, commanded a harras of Lancelot’s mighty steeds, and Adrian failed in his attempt to twirl one of the Mad Hatter’s Tea Cups.

At ten o’clock the park officially opened, and we smugly watched the stampede of hundreds of people running towards Space Mountain. We were content to sail through the many lands of It’s a Small World (originally designed for the 1964 New York World’s Fair), and then we found ourselves terribly lost in Alice’s Curious Labyrinth.

By this time it was snowing, and we were cold and exhausted. The lines were now at least 60 minutes for all the rides, so we returned to the hotel. Even though it was called the Chuck Wagon café, the hotel restaurant buffet was actually excellent. The girls could eat the American style food that they loved, while there was plenty of vegetarian choices for Adrian. After that, we enjoyed long baths and naps to warm up and rest our busy bones.

Feeling rejuvenated, we returned to the park. Adrian and I reserved front row seats for the pending parade, while the girls went exploring. Ms 14 returned with popcorn, and Ms 8 returned with Thumper, the rabbit from Bambi. Thumper accompanied us for the rest of the weekend, riding roller-coasters, getting covered in hot chocolate, and being greeted with “Bonjour Panpan” by all the cast members. Interestingly, many of the Disney characters have different names in French. Goofy is Dingo, Chip & Dale are Tic & Tac, Scrooge McDuck is Balthazar Picsou, Huey, Dewey & Loui are Riri, Fifi & Loulou, and my favourite: Captain Hook is Capitaine Crochet.

The parade was announced in half a dozen languages, and we guessed that the announcer had learned her English in Australia from the way she pronounced “Deeh-sney’s Wuhn-nce Uh-pon ah Dreeeam Puh-Raayde”. We figured that occurrence was a lot more likely than an Australian person learning to speak another five languages fluently. The parade was magical, with a bunch of floats and dozens of dancers recreating many famous and beloved characters.

At the centre of the Park stands Le Chateau de la Belle au Bois Dormant (Sleeping Beauty’s Castle), the most beautiful of all the Disney castles. In America, any castle is seen as magical, but in Europe the standards are much higher - Neuschwanstein castle (the inspiration for the original Disney Castle) is only seven hours away. Copying an existing structure would not suffice, so the Imagineers delved into old fairytales and medieval illuminated manuscripts for inspiration. The result was a whimsical rendering of turrets and towers. As we admired it, I explained to a disinterested Ms 8 that it looked much higher than it actually was due to the use of forced perspective. “Way to ruin the magic” commented Adrian, even though we both understand that unweaving the rainbow only serves to enhance its beauty.

The inside of the castle is like a miniature cathedral, and is lit by intricate stain glass windows created by Peter Chapman, who came out of retirement after having previously restored the windows of Notre Dame de Paris. The nine complementing tapestries were weaved in Aubusson, France, with an extra copy of one created as a gift to Head Imagineer Tony Baxter. The tallest window of the tallest tower is constantly lit, to remind guests that at Disneyland, the princess is always present.

After that, it was time to explore Adventureland. The landscapers did an amazing job of finding lush green tropical plants that thrived even in the harsh winter of Paris. We caught a rickety loop-the-loop train through Indiana Jones’ Temple of Peril, and then journeyed back to the Wild West in Fronteirland. We first visited the Phantom Manor, and poor Ms 8 was so terrified that she hid in my arms the whole time, despite my reassurances that everything was “fake fake fake”. However, after realizing that it was not actually scary at all, we repeated the ride so that she could appreciate the effects. We loved seeing the ‘ghosts’ dancing in the dining room and the skeleton head hovering over our carriage.

Then we were off to ride through the old mines of Big Thunder Mountain. This is my favourite rollercoaster in Disneyland – you zoom through a tunnel to arrive on an island in the Rivers of the Far West, with robotic donkeys watching us as we zoomed up and down, without any of those awful 360 degree loops that turn my stomach. We grabbed a few copies of the photo of us all on the train with our mouse hats. As in nearly all the action shots from the weekend, Ms 14 looked stoic and unmoved by the g-forces she was experiencing.

With our stomachs rumbling, we ventured into the Arabian Peninsula to Agrabah, Aladdin’s home town. We were greeted with a buffet of Middle-Eastern delights, and we relaxed in the warmth before heading out into the cold dark night. By now, most people had left the parks, and the lines were once again non-existent. After a few more turns on Indiana Jones’ Temple of Peril, we hiked up to the Caribbean to visit the Pirates. This was another favourite of mine, drifting underground in the warm humid air, surrounded by 119 singing and dancing robotic pirates.

At the end of the day we returned to Discoveryland to pilot a few more spaceships, and then it was time to head back to the hotel to get some sleep and get ready for another big day tomorrow, this time at Walt Disney’s Studio Park.

Paris

Ah, fair Paris, in only a weekend it seduced us so. We caught the metro to the Place de la Republique Sunday morning and checked into Hotel de Nevers with a pokey yet stylish room and three resident cats called Misty, Lea, and Jo. We wandered down to Place de la Bastille for lunch at an amazing Italian restaurant.

After lunch we wandered down to the Seine and across the many bridges to the delightful islands of Ile St-Louis and Ile de la Cite. The quiet streets of Ile St-Louis contrasted with the grandeur of Notre Dame at Ile de la Cite. Note Dame was started in 1163, but has been continually rebuilt and remodelled since, creating a hodge-podge of ages and architectural styles.

The outside of Notre Dame is in a gorgeous gothic style. Lines of gargoyles and grotesques line the building, although oddly they seem to be more comedic in a Buffy way than serious gothic art. We would have thought that more people would think they are cute, rather than a serious threat of the consequences of not believing in the Catholic God. The building also has flying buttresses, the reasons for which the various guides seem to be divided. Some state that they are to support the walls of the cathedral (the normal reason for having flying buttresses), while others contend that they were actually added as gutters, citing the latter addition as an indication that they are not structurally required. Adrian thinks it is more likely that they are structural, and that the later addition coincided with the modifications increasing the height of the cathedral or decreasing the wall strength (such as the additions of stain glass windows). It just seems peculiar for an architectural style renowned for its elaborate attempts to appear to defy gravity to add buttresses simply to drain water away, when additional gargoyles could have served the same function.

Our guide told us that the cathedral was designed in the shape of a cross to venerate Jesus, but actually it is a direct consequence of the inverse square law of light diffusion, since an analysis of church design over time showed that originally all churches were built as rectangles and kept down to a smaller size. The upper limit of size was determined by lighting, as the volume increases more rapidly than the surface area (window area) with building size, reaching a point where it becomes impossible to counter the diffusion of light with candles. Only after the breakthrough in design of a cross (increasing the surface area for the same volume) came did Churches become any larger, and this design was still kept only for the large churches. The light issue was also reflected in the fascination the Church had for stain glass, the massive rose windows in Notre Dame contain some of the oldest stain-glass in the world, dating back to the 13thcentury. Adrian teased Lydia that her favourite colour of purple apparently symbolised waiting for the rapture.

The most impressive aspect of Notre Dame is the main façade, covered with intricate carvings and statues. The main image is that of Jesus seated over a line of dead people who are having their soul’s weighed and being lead off in chains by the devil. One of the more interesting statues is that of the headless St Denis. Denis was sent to convert the Gauls to Christianity and was executed by the Romans ~250 CE. The legend has it that after being beheaded he picked up his head and walked for several miles while preaching a sermon. Apparently he only had enough miracle in him to defy death temporarily and he died again very soon. The statue of St Denis on Notre Dame chose to portray him headless as part of his fame, but this caused major problems for the sculptures (well, more the theologians) - where to put his halo? Around his severed head? Or around the place in which his head once was? Obviously a very important question for a group that once debated for decades whether people have belly buttons in heaven (they decided yes - on the grounds that people would look silly without them) and whether severed limbs would be reattached in heaven (again they decided yes, making the headless St Denis possibly heresy, but this only brought up the harder question of whether a limb severed and eaten by someone else stays with second person or is regenerated with the first). St Denis is also one of the fourteen Holy Helpers - saints that are thought particularly useful to pray too in times of sickness - however his dominion seems rather poor compared to that of Christopher (Bubonic plague) or Elmo (intestinal disease), being a specialist in curing headaches.

The interior of Notre Dame was less impressive than the exterior, having decayed after the Catholic Church lost its iron grip on France in the 1789 Revolution. It required Victor Hugo’s publication of Notre Dame de Paris in 1831 (The Hunchback of Notre Dame) to get it restored, but it is still not as ornate as Westminster.

Outside Notre Dame we visited Point Zero, the centre of Paris, then had ice-cream in Place du Pont Neuf.

From Place du Pont Neuf we crossed over to the Louvre and Cour Napoleon. The Louvre was magnificent - tall stately mansions surrounding courtyards. It was first built in the 13thcentury, rebuilt in the 16th and extensively remodelled throughout, with the latest addition being the pyramids in 1989.

From the Louvre we walked along Jardin des Tuileries, the gardens landscaped by Andre Le Notre in 1664 and still closely following his design. We found the hedge garden, with little nooks designed for hidden kisses, and a fountain where children sent sail boats across the pool by angling their sail just right. Eiffel Tower replicas were everywhere, but this made for surprisingly beautiful souvenir displays - dozens of tiny towers in elegant rows. The Egyptian Obelisk at the Place de la Concorde looked quite incongruous amongst all the fountains of Louis XV’s square. Adrian notes that its twin back in Thebes is quite lovely. There were beautiful statues and arches right up to Au des Champs-Élysées, which we followed up to Arc de Triomphe.

Champs-Élysées is the most expensive and exclusive avenue in Europe (the second in the world after New York’s 5th Avenue). We sat down to have a soft drink, but Adrian balked at the €6 price-tag. We did, however, find the most upscale bathroom in Paris, replete with its own perfumes and postcards.

Arc de Triomphe was stunning. The Arc was commissioned in 1806 for Napoleon’s 1805 victory of Austerlitz. The Arc is so massive (51m tall, the second largest triumphal arch since North Korea built a slight larger arch in 1982 for the 70thbirthday of Kim Il-Sung) that it needs 8m deep foundations. While the first stone was laid in August 1806, it was not finished until 1836, long after Napoleon’s exile and death, so they never knew what to put on top of it. A chariot, effigy of Napoleon, eagle, Statue of Liberty or a gigantic star were all proposed, but in the end the top was left bare. An eternal flame was lit under the arch in 1920, the oldest in Western Europe (although technically it was extinguished on June 30th1998 when a drunken football fan urinated on it). The Arc was responsible for shaping much of western Paris, with the old medieval streets being ripped up to create broad boulevards to lead to it. Napoleon was no tactical slouch, and also designed the new boulevards as military corridors for Paris uprisings. Interestingly, to escape conscription under Napoleon one used to chop off a finger, or (less painfully) knock out their front teeth – since this disbarred them from military service as they were were required to open musket cartridges.

From Arc de Triomphe we caught the metro (such a classy way to travel, with the individual Art Nouveau signs) to the Eiffel Tower, the most visited monument in the world. The Eiffel Tower was unexpectedly gorgeous. You would think that a 320 metre tall 7000 tonne lump of steal would be ugly, but Gustov Eiffel was a design genius, making it soft and elegant, with almost delicate iron filigree (actually, he said the first priority in design was wind resistance, not elegance) and engraved with the names of seventy two famous French scientists and engineers. We were both surprised at her colour - she is tan, rather than ebony, with rows of names etched into her arches. The tower was built for the 1889 World Fair as a temporary exhibit (it only had a 20 year land permit), although Eiffel had originally planned to build it in Barcelona for the Universal Exposition of 1888. It was the tallest structure in the world until the 1930 Chrysler building, and is still the tallest in Paris and fifth tallest in Europe. Eiffel was so good at metallic structures that he was also hired to built the scaffolding around which the New York Statue of Liberty is built.

Afterwards Lydia took Adrian out to a charming restaurant by the tower for dinner, before heading back to our hotel for a well deserved rest.

 

Versailles

 

The next day we caught the train out to Château de Versailles. We averted near disaster by realised just in time that we were about to board a train to Versailles-C, and not Versailles-R. A gentle train ride past Le Derense brought us to the estate of Louis XIV and XV. Being a Monday, we discovered that the palace itself was closed, but the grounds - hectares of gardens, fountains and statues - were plenty enough to explore for the day.

Versailles was spectacular. Beyond spectacular it was actually disgustingly decadent (it is estimated that the upkeep of Versailles before the Revolution consumed 25% of France’s annual income). Most of it was built by the Sun King Louis XIV (which now strikes Adrian as a very odd phrase to use for someone who never actually did anything productive in their life, but was rather born into a position where they could force others to build what they wanted), and was even more decadent than you would expect from someone who, at the age of four, owned a set of silver soldiers and miniature gold cannons drawn by fleas made specifically for him by a famous goldsmith.

As we ambled around, we discovered treasures tucked away in every corner. We explored the first gardens for hours, only later noticing that they were actually on the roof-top of one of the mansions and that other gardens stretched out as far as we could see. We walked on further and further and only found more gardens, each with exquisite sculptures, and more mansions. Each statue was a piece of art in itself, but there was simply too much to take in.

We found an amphitheater with large golden chalices and wildflowers growing on the steps. We saw sculptures of cupids fighting the Kraken with arrows, cupids sitting astride sphinxes, and immense red marble columns contrasting with the yellow limestone. We were given the choice between rowing a small boat along the canal, or a picnic by the edge of the water. We decided on a picnic, with Lydia indulging in chocolate crepes and a nap on the manicured lawn.

The fountains, each with an individual story book theme, pumped the water vigorously into the sky. Ironically enough, Louis XIV’s passion for large spurts to impress his friends lead to one of the only benefits he gave the French people – he commissioned Arnold de Ville and Rennequin Sualem in 1684 to design water pumps to push the Versailles fountains even higher, significantly (and inadvertently) advancing hydraulics.

How odd to consider the decadence of Paris considering it is now a city that constantly struck us as being moderate. We were always given small servings of excellent food, beer or wine is served with every meal, but no one drinks more than one. The city is designed around walking and the metro, giving an egalitarian feel of small boutiques and markets. And yet this is a city that in the Second Empire had a newspaper, the Naiade, printed on rubber so that the rich could read in their bathtub. 

We finished our day back in Paris by walking around Palais de la Decouverte, having a secret walk through Place de I’Institut, seeing St Michel’s Fountains, and on a misguided quest to have a picnic.

We planned to have our dinner as picnic in the Luxenburg gardens. We had just purchased cheese and yogurt, and were on our way to a bread shop when it started to drizzle. By the time we had our bread it was pouring with rain, and we rad to run, breadstick in hand, to the nearest Metro station. (By far the best investment we made was our three-day €38 Paris Visite transport tickets. They seemed pricey at the time, but they soon earned our gratitude.)

We got up early the next morning to look out over the bridges on the Seine for one last glimpse of the tower, before flying to Finland for a relaxing evening watching people casually strolling around with smiles on their faces in the delightful Scandinavian summer night.

Estonia 

The next day we thought we would nip over to Estonia. After misdirection to a port on the wrong side of Helsinki and a ticket mistake we managed to get on the Ferry, complete with napping room, for our day trip to Tallinn. This city has plenty of skyscrapers and a sprawling metropolis, yet tucked within ancient walls is also the most intact medieval town in Europe.

Inside the old city the first thing we did was climb the spire of St Olav’s Church (right next to the former KGB headquarters with boarded-up windows). It is now only 123 metres tall, but when it was built (in 1438) it was 159 metres tall. This was enough to make it the second tallest building in the world, then the tallest in 1549 once the spiral of Lincoln Cathedral (160m) was destroyed. It didn’t seem that tall from the outside, but it took a surprisingly large number of steps to reach the top.

It is odd to think that this tower was actually the fourth major structure to hold the title of world’s tallest building (after the Red Pyramid, the Great Pyramid which held the title for 4000 years and Lincoln Cathedral). It is even stranger to consider that it held the title until 1625, when the lightning strike knocked down the spire and the reconstructed height was lower than that of Strasbourg Cathedral. So nothing was actually built taller than St Olav’s Church for 450 years until the Washington Monument just pipped it in 1884 (169m, ninth to hold the title), before the Eiffel tower rewrote the records in 1889 (300m), which lasted until 1930 Chrysler building (319m). We would have thought that the world’s tallest structure would have been held by many buildings over the eons, but actually only fourteen have held that title (five of which obtained their title when larger buildings fell down) and most of the increase in height has come in three buildings - the Great Pyramid (146m, 40% gain), the Eiffel Tower (300m, 80% gain) and Ostankino Tower (537m, 40% gain). Anyway, the view from St Olav’s spire is really good.

The angles of all the houses were askew throughout the city, with marble cobblestones that looked bautifully polished by the rain, but made it very difficult for Lydia to walk upon. Wandering around the city we saw the only surviving Gothic Town Hall in Europe, constructed in the 14th century and topped by Old Thomas since 1530, and the Raeapteek, a pharmacy that has been operating since 1422. We had lunch up White Bread passage next to the Gothic Puhavaimu Kirik (Holy Spirit Church), a beautiful old church with odd post-Christian stain-glass. After wandering around the walls of the lower town we climbed by to the high town (Toompea) and saw Toomkirik, the oldest church in Estonia (1219) and the stunning Russian Orthodox Alexander Nevsky Cathedral (1894).

Lydia tried to buy a cute woolen red shawl, only to be told that it was an item for children, and she was not permitted to purchase it. Instead, we each bought extraordinarily long hats that one also wraps around the neck as a scarf, and keeps one very cozy and snug.

Helsinki

Back in Helsinki that evening Adrian had a conference dinner at an amazing restaurant on the island of Klippan, while listening to Finland’s best accordion player. The actual conference was quite odd, far more extravagant than a normal science conference, being a medical conference the exhibits could go beyond giving out pens. Rather it had an almost carnival feel with corny shows complete with holograms, clowns, artists doing cartoon sketches and a Photoshop booth to create fake postcards. The conference bags were designed by Finnish designer Marimekko, and Adrian was given a piece of glassware by Alvar Aalto as a speaker’s gift.

While Adrian was speaking at the conference, Lydia spent the next few days exploring Finland as an “accompanying person”. As she was driven through the countryside, her tour guide told her more about Finland. Most Finns have a hobby farm, and that the cities are deserted on the weekends. Helsinki was the birthplace of Linus Torvalds, the creator of Linux. When the President of Finland, Tarja Halonen, was asked about the secret to the country’s success, she said that there were three elements: 1. Education. 2. Education. 3. Education. Finland is a bilingual country according to its constitution, leading to German playwright Berthold Bercht to observe that “the Finns are silent in two languages”.

She was taken on a tour to Porvoo, a small village and port 50 km north-east of Helsinki that was established in the 14th century. This town lies on the Kings Road - a centuries old road that winds from Stockholm through to Russia. It is a city of poets, artists, and writers, with red wooden warehouses lining the river, and hanging baskets from every balcony. Delightfully, many of the newer houses have built built in the same style as the old red warehouses, so the motif of red reflected on water is repeated throughout the town.

The next morning Lydia walked around Lake Toolo, appreciating the ramshakle old wooden villas nestled in amongst the trees. She passed the Olympic Stadium, which holds special pride for the Finns, as they were unable to host them in 1940 as planned, due to the war with Russia, and had to wait until 1952. She also visited the monument to the composer Jean Sibelius, a huge steel cacophony of silver pipes reminiscent of the trunks in the slender birch forests found throughout Finland. She was also just in time to witness the changing of the guard, which consisted of soldiers marching smartly around the streets of Helsinki with much fanfare, before packing up their flags and hopping on a bus.

She also visited Suomenlinna, a World Heritage listed sea fortress built on an island outside Helsinki. Worryingly, her tour guide quoted wikipedia as his main source of information about the site. The fortress was originally built by Sweden in the 18th century, surrended to Russia in the 19th century, and then became part of Finland after the Russian Revolution. The park within its walls  is popular with picnickers, and is filled with plants donated by Carl Linnaeus.

Adrian and Lydia had a lot of fun at the convention’s social occasions, spending the conference dinner talking to a professors sailing crew (why not sail from Germany to Finland for a conference?). One of them was a science historian, and we were fascinated to hear that they don’t actually read any scientific articles when writing the history of science, rather they read through all the grant applications and progress reports that we throw away to work out the order that things actually happened in. It was a lot of fun to sit and talk to Germans (who were embarrassed to forget Moldova) and then go out with Nora to a very stylish Finnish bar.

Our last evening in Helsinki we enjoyed Nordic walking, watched the sun start to set from the iconic churches, then went to an Ice Bar to drink vodka.

A few charming Finnish sayings:
No one dies twice.
Sauna is the poor man’s drugstore.
Poverty and love are impossible to hide.
The floor serves as the child’s chair.

A few outdated Finnish sayings:
A man will marry a bad wife rather than none at all, as a starving pike will eat a frog.
Do not lend your bicycle or your wife to anyone.

Just plain odd Finnish saying:
A pig plows much ground, but it doesn’t drink beer on Christmas.