I adore the pools more and more every single time I visit one. They make me feel good in many different ways. There's the knowledge that in addition to walking everywhere I'm doing some very good regular exercise, I'm moving a lot more and also more efficiently than I used to. Some of them apparently have saunas. I've yet to visit one, since you'd apparently have to pay a bit more. Nevertheless, it's comforting to know that I can get to one if I start having withdrawals. They also offer some very good means for relaxation.
I had been swimming laps for maybe an hour and a quarter and was thinking about having a break. I went to the hottest of hot pots, and sat there for maybe 15 minutes. That already was rather nice and unwinding, but I didn't realize what I was about to do when I jumped into the colder swimming pool again. My limbs instantly turned into well boiled spaghetti. It caught me by complete surprise. In theory I could've kept swimming very slowly, but I had absolutely no strength left in my body. I just ditched the thought of doing more laps and went to the showers, embracing the feeling I had gotten. I don't think my body has ever felt so relaxed.
The pooltime thoughts have also been quite interesting. I find myself either watching how the waves travel or overlap each other and rebound from the walls, or then thinking in English. I noticed the latter last time at the pools. Of course English is my main language of communication at the moment, but I don't seem to be thinking in English anywhere else at this point. When I noticed it, I could also recall that I had been doing it on my previous pool visits as well. With some of you readers I've been discussing how I always get the best ideas when taking a shower. This observation seems like a logical continuum for my vague theories of how water seems to affect thought processes. Or something.
A few days back I was craving for some whisky, so visited the liquor store for the first time. I suppose I couldn't have done a better job at looking a poor, dubious student if I tried, with my backpack and everything. There were like six people working at the store at the time filling shelves and unpacking boxes, and also a dedicated guard. I was the only customer at the time, so upon entering the store ALL eyes turned on me. The unpacking of boxes slowed down a bit, conversations dampened. The guard followed me as I took a round trip around the small store. I felt like I had entered Fort Knox. Hardly surprising though I suppose, seeing how the goods stored seem to be of similar value in both. I just stayed as far from the shelves I could while retaining the ability to read prices, and didn't touch anything before I had made my decision about what to buy. The price was naturally outrageous, but I felt relieved that I got out of the store without hearing blaring sirens and having all the workers jump on me, swearing in Icelandic.
I've never been good at scheduling. To think, I've never really liked it or seen it as a necessity. I don't keep a calendar. When I was working at the grocery store in Finland, I would just memorize my next shift, not copy the whole chart somewhere. I always knew when I'm supposed to be at work for the next time, which was enough. I don't have schedules in my travels either. Maybe I'll miss many of the tourist attractions wherever I happen to be, but I think my way of just wandering wherever I feel like gives me a lot more interesting view of the current location. I'd hate to leave something curious just because according to my timetable I should be already going somewhere else. I think that most things you can possibly do are more fun when you do them spontaneously.
Which brings me to how much I love the randomness of living here. Part of the fascination may become from actually living in a lively city for the first time in my life. Vaasa is a rather quiet and small town by Finnish standards, with not all that many things to do. I've began to understand the frustration some of my friends there have had for the town - they've either already lived in livelier cities or wanted to end up in one. The evening before I went to the Nordic House, where we had a free concert from a Finnish trio which had composed songs from Edith Södergran's poems. In three languages too, Finnish, Swedish and English. Afterwards I found myself talking to the Swedish ambassador couple about Icelandic, I apparently knew more than the lady did. Again slightly afterwards I found myself sitting in Tapasbarinn with the ensemble and mostly older Finnish ladies. This is what you get for speaking Finnish in public, I guess. It was fun nevertheless, although I think we were served too few bread baskets! Not sure if I'd go again, but you've got to try everything, right? Afterwards everybody else crammed into a taxi and I waded slowly home, past most of the hot spots in Icelandic nightlife.
Yesterday's randomness led me to have a fun surprise lunch downtown. Afterwards I went to see Reykjavík Museum of Photography. The current exhibition of photos from Greenland was rather good, even though I think there were a couple too many shots of fish drying racks. And yes, they also had postcards of mr. Kjarval drinking Brennivín. Both seemed very photogenic. I also went to enjoy my Saturday evening brew to a very honest looking pub, The Dubliner. Guinness was surprisingly not-overpriced at 600 krónur. Soon after I had sat down the table next to me was occupied by a Swedish group of three men and three young ladies who were discussing some rather personal matters, and making some relatively crude jokes. I tried to smile inwards, not wanting to make them aware of the fact that I understood most of the things they were saying. They left rather swiftly, after drinking just one quick round. Slightly after I was halfway into my second pint and feeling very contemplative, I was smiling openly by myself. I was happy I hadn't had a schedule for that day.
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