Is that a taksi?

So we missed our stop at Kotka. We ended up at Kotka port. That was fun!

Kotka port train station is pretty desolate. Dark and icy. But most of all, desolate! And I say station, but it’s just a platform (and barely that!).

The train ride from Lahti to Kotka was pretty straight-forward. The train was a lot less modern than the two other trains we’d taken out of the Helsinki region those hours earlier. No wifi, less plump seats, swing doors between carriages (none of that green open button malarkey), less toilets and more drunks. This lack of comfort did put a bit of doubt in our minds about whether or not we were on the right train but before we knew it, we were moving.

The littlest things seem so novel and exciting when you’re travelling: the melted snow dripping off the underside of the baggage in the overhead rack, the twinkling lights of houses and lodges that went by… I was supping up the foreignness of it all. Less novel was being able to get the baggage down from the overhead rack in time to get off at the Kotka stop…! So we got off at the next stop: Kotka port.

Amongst the dark and icy desolateness (did I mention it was pretty desolate?), I spotted one of those tourist “KOTKA” signs in the distance – you know, the big ass red letters that people normally lounge around on top of for tourist photos? But then, we spotted something much, much, MUCH more exciting: someone else!

Whilst we were at the Express Café in Lahti, I was telling Tony how I feel almost pompous because I can’t speak Finnish and I’m expecting everyone else to speak my language. It’s kind of unfamiliar ground to me. <insert showy offy emoji here>

Anyway, all of this to say it’s a good job the Finns speak English because the girl we came across at Kotka port told us how to get to the centre and a taxi rank.

We crunched along the ice, tugging our suitcases behind us, with Tone asking “is that a taxi?” every time a car went by. We came across a few people in the town (though not too many, to be fair!) and Tony stopped each and every one of them to ask where the taxi rank was. I think he was desperate to speak to someone who wasn’t me, to be honest, even if it meant he’d have to have the same conversation with different people… He stopped after he quizzed the (very large!) couple emerging from a Chinese restaurant who asked where we were from. Tony answered “UK” and they looked awful shocked, until they realised we didn’t say “Ukraine”!

Tony despairing after 5 miles (in reality, 5 minutes) of walking!

We managed to get a taxi in the end and cosied up in our little guesthouse after Oleg showed us around the shared facilities: shared toilets, shared kitchen, shared showers. Now this is travelling. I feel alive! :-D