/cynosure

19/04/2026 @ bremen (de)

when i entered the room yesterday evening and started getting ready for bed, i noticably cortisol spiked one of the aforementioned gamers who was already half-fast-asleep. i may have never seen more loathing eyeframes looking back to me as when the bathroom light bulb hit him directly in the face. my bad. it turns out, he would get the last laugh: he was in fact also of the loud snoring variety. while half asleep at close to 3 am i was wondering to myself whether (a) the general population just has a great number of people who sound like they are having a medical emergency for the whole-of-every-night or (b) that the cheap hostel simply selects for the sub-section of people with the affliction, in a reversal of darwinism not yet studied. a phd thesis just waiting to be written.

breakfast of whole-grain-baguette and hummus was had by the train tracks, on a concrete bollard in a quiet road-branch that im not entirely sure actually went anywhere at all. the orchestra, personal vehicle accelarators, broken up by the occasional train screeching as it departs the station, back-dropped by a large open hole in the ground with three lifting cranes poking out of it; a construction-zone, but not yet. limbo.

i decided then i would go up to bremen that day, about three or four hours of train riding. the first train in this plot had delay both before and after departing, audible dismay of other travellers in the cabin. unlike them, i am fortunately disemployed with nowhere specific to be. by divine intervention, the second also had just enough delay so that i would both not miss the connection but also have time to grab a station-brew espresso before leaving. the third connection, by virtue of previous delays, was a case of dis-embarking, crossing the platform, and re-embarking.

sightings from the train window were made up of large flat terraining with endless rows of high-voltage lines, abandoned construction materials by the railside, cow fields, and great numbers of farmer sheds with tin (or is that zinc?) roofing enriched with mathematically optimized configurations of shelf-ready solar panelling.

from what i saw today, i like bremen. not very busy, even for a weekend day. calm, clean inner streets with mostly only tram traffic. i really like the central station building facade. the squares were nice. by the riverside in the middle of the city there are rows of small nature areas to walk in. near the cathedral however i did see one of the ugliest neo-neo-neo-classicist buildings i have ever seen embroided with a banks logo directly into stone. parody. just north of the station i saw, on the maps, a large city park, which i will go take a walk in tommorow morning. had some really nice ramen noodles in a small restaurant. on my table was a bottle of soy sauce and a small flower vase with some decorative flowers. this vase had a massive barcode and text on it, which first amused me with the concept of selling obnoxiously branded-and-merchandised objects made for seeing through, and then somebody actually buying these objects without consideration. i was amused thrice over on further inspection, however, as the vase was an identical, repurposed, copy of the soy sauce bottle right beside it.

sleeping arrangements for today are a two-single room in a cheap hotel for about 42 euros, which is just about the price where it becomes worth it every few days to have an actual good nights sleep. the other driving factor for this decision was that the hostel rooms were too cheap, at 11 to 15 euros. at that price point, compared to about 20-30 euros per night as is more common, it actually becomes less appealing to sleep in a room with six other randomly selected-for people. not sure if that is grounded in reality. im sure we will find this out sometime soon. trying to enter the hotel after exiting the train station, i spent about 10 minutes figuring out how to get up to the sixth-floor lobby, walking in and around the building with four asian fellow travellers who were equally amused by the situation. we ended up having one of the employees come down to greet us and lead us through some service hallways and the lobby of a neighbouring hotel, explaining that the elevator broke down and it should be fixed within the next hour (which it was). i have not heard of many hotels where the lobby is on the top floor. probably makes for a nicer work environment to the lobby staff, which is nice.

rounding off the day, i had looked into some kind of cinema to watch a random film at. there was an 8pm showing of a 2026 film, now i met her, by a person named xiao luxi at the city 46 cinema. it is a chinese picture, meaing i had immediately decided to see this film. intensely dramatic, with mach 10 rollercoasting transitions between comedy and heart wrenching storytelling. it matches the structure and tone of how k-dramas have been explained to me. high-drama acting performances and intense tragedy do, in fact, work their magic on me aswell. there is a scene in this film where the son is playing what i believe is the chinese mobile game clone of league of legends called mobile legends. i cannot say too much without spoiling, but the administrative regulations regarding positive messaging and the like are ever present. it is an intensely chinese film, rated and approved by the china film administration. i recommend it highly.

20/04/2026 @ luebeck (de)

this morning it was pouring down. still, i wanted to visit the big buergerpark in north bremen. i visited the lidl (might have been an aldi) and had the most confusing experience trying to operate their self-scan-terminal. they seem to have a system where you need to pick up an item from the left side, scan the item, and then physically place it inside the right hand area. if you pick up multiple items, you cannot scan them one at a time. if you put a bag you were previously holding on the right side, you need an employee to unlock the terminal as it assumes you have placed a Stolen Item into the Bagging Area. Verboten. along with the usual order of hummus and bread, i got some assorted nuts and cans of sardines, which i planned to eat out of the tin.

making my way to the park after wandering the city some more, some magical scenes were revealed to me. as the rain was quite heavy, there was close to no-one inside the park. large open areas with water features completely silent, spare some birds chirping away serene atmosphere. after slogging around muddy parkways for over an hour feeling benches for one not completely drenched, tiredom and hunger were fast setting in. looking to my left, an open concrete pagoda with a gold ornament on the roof revealed itself (pictured). my own eden, hummus-tree-serpent.

post-euphoria of the break-lunch was spent walking in the rain for another two hours or more (i was not keeping much track) in the park, before returning to the station. by this time it was about 3pm and i felt absolutely exhausted. my initial plan was to go to hamburg and spend the night there, but i simply dreaded existing in a large city at that point. the group of school children screaming for the entire train ride did not help either, i reckon. too busy. i walked over to platform five and boarded the train to luebeck instead.

luebeck is a major coastal port city of the hansa. its old town, encircled by water, is one of the most densely beautiful cities i have seen in my life. as tired as i might have been, it seemed unthinkable not to walk the length of the island through its cobbled alleyways, cut through by the low sun and sharp coastal winds. the bridged city gates, roman-early-gothic-fusion church buildings, and the residential district in the northeast deserve special mention. they have some massive seagulls over here aswell. i managed to spot an ideal breakfast spot on the way aswell, stay tuned for this.

additional image for your enjoyment, no comment provided.

21/04/2026 @ rostock (de)

this morning luebeck was bathed in a clear sky with a light wind. i bid the friendly pension hosts (family company it seemed) farewel and made my way to the riverside, just outside the city gates. a young man joined me and started smoking a joint on the bench beside me after figuring that i was chill enough. good to know i still have it like that. afterwards i walked about luebeck some more, concluding again that is indeed a beautiful city. i entered a coffee shop to read for a while and figure out when to take the train to rostock. there was an extremely loud-spoken american tourist (as is commonplace) forcing the barista people to practice german with her while ordering. not sure if they minded or not. kind of just put on a very very slow voice like speaking to a child, which they were. had a nice conversation about the architecture of the city with one of them. she seemed happier to just speak english with foreigners. i dont even know how to say 'i do not speak german' in german. the girl really loved the churches and wondered out loud how they build them so-high-so-long-ago. i said many people have many interesting theories on this, but left it at that. no need to invoke the mud flood theory at the barista in the middle of the shift.

the train to rostock was alright. nothing much special. i did see the largest single solar panel up to now on a shed. it was huge, and four of them covered the whole side of a large shed. i keep getting more aware of how fake all forested areas look. thousands of trees by the railside, none of them thicker than a pole-arm for jousting with. unfortunate to realize. ive been reading the 1970 book from baudrillard, the consumer society. anybody reading this should go read the system of objects. please contact me for an epub.

after a while, i arrived in rostock. its another city of the hansa. the station is situated a bit outside the main city, leading you through a few quiet residential blocks on the way. these blocks are mostly lined by very expensive looking detached houses. closer to the city, i walked through some tall apartment blocks that reminded me very much of the ones i saw in copenhagen. i never thought much about how the north coast of germany, especially the hansa, are far closer to the nordics in culture than continental europe. i even saw some stickers (football club related) referring to themselves as 'vikings'. speaking of which, the sticker-spread in this city is just the same 10 football stickers spammed all over. 1/10.

the whole city is quite nice. more tall churches with copper roofs. there is a university building in one of the main squares i really liked. theres allot of small-medium-large parks spread throughout. the annoying part about this city is that there are multiple 4-6 lane carways that cut-up the city, even nearby what could have been a well connected area attached to the old-innertown. its especially bad right by the north dock area. there is absolutely no reason for there to be a 6 lane vehicle road two cutting two blocks and the dock off from the rest of the city. i was going to put my foot physically into the baltic sea, but the entire dock area was closed off for construction. MANY people would love for a video of me dipping my feet into the baltic sea. your loss.

for dinner i bought a pot of noodles and this half-kilo tin of mystery fish in mystery marinate. the tin was about two times the size of my hand. the fish was alright and looked completely disgusting. the noodles were noodles. i dont actually know where im going tommorow yet. got a spot picked out for breakfast though, so we will see after that.

p.s. for those asking for a way to comment, please forward fanmail or other commentary regarding the webzone via electronic mail at webmaster@unemployable.fyi ! ! !
i promise that every commentary will be read and published publically, i listen to the people because the people are me.

22/04/2026 @ stralsund (de)

in the morning i took a scalding hot bath, provided in this airbnb esque appartment, hoping to ease some of the muscle burns. its worth noting that i probably went outside less than ten times in the four months or so before leaving home. my body is a temple, and it is filled with money-changers, so to speak. breakfast by the water. two-point-five-hundred-euro-cents can buy you 1000 calories worth of bread and hummus. something to consider for the people at home. i looked into destinations and learned there is a whole small island (ruegen) filled with seaside resorts and the like. dont want to go there. stralsund (strela-sound) lies at the sound between this island and continental-pomerania. its named for the sound it occupies. or because it sounds like sun-rays. i wont debate you on it. i might like stralsund, so i am going to stralsund. on the way i stopped for an espresso at a small bistro. the older man (south-east-asian of some kind) only spoke german. we communicated mostly by hand signalling, all went well; the ghost-of-babels-past, excorcised. i ended up having two espressos.

the journey to stralsund would take me through a place named neu[-]strelitz, so being baptized as successor to strelitz, which had burned down. neustrelitz is not austerlitz. austerlitz is famous for something to do with napoleon. neustrelitz is, apparantly, known for hosting a nazi asylum for the Mentally Disturbed. knowing this, i decided not to walk around the town, and just board the immediate connector, making sure not to make eye contact with anybody. i do not want to go back. after a minute or so on the platform i noticed a curly haired young visionary biting directly into a whole cucumber, held as one might a hot-dog. how have i not thought of that? several minutes after boarding the Regional Express Line Five, direction stralsund, the man looking at a vscode instance in front of me suddenly mouthed some profanities as he hurriedly vacated the cabin, presenting the laptop as a modernist take on the pizza box. nearly missed his stop, too enthralled by the javascript programming language. i should have tripped him over for it.

passing through neubrandenburg, which probably means new-burg-old-burned (there are patterns everywhere, if you care to look), the landscape by the rail lines enjoyed more elevated planes along with meandering rivers. no shortage of wind-power-generators and flat fields though. all the towns between neustrelitz and stralsund tended to have boarded-down-graffitized station buildings, embracing the atmosphere of the small town platform: an ongoing communal art project the government forgot to rsvp for.

stralsund is nice. the old town is very dense, with more early gothic buildings to gawk at in every street, and, if you get shy, pre-historic cobblestone walkways to stare at. quite a few personal vehicles zipping about, but nothing terrible. i liked the waterfront at the northwest of the city. the city hall building is extremely weird. the facade looks like the middle tower of five gothic churches put side-on-side. never seen anything like it. while eating some nuts on a random hill during sunset, a group of crows were flying around and speaking at one-another. one of them very politely stood close to me for a minute, seeming to imply he would like some. i threw a handful to the grass closer to them, and soon each of them had picked up their share. they left to the bottom of the hill. pov day one befriending crows tik tok video, transmitted via telegram to my followers.

accomodations for today are an somewhat below mediocre pension. not super clean, but thats ok. across from the small two person bed we have an array of the finest hotel-kitsch: (1) a wooden sign telling me i am HOME, the O substituted for a pattern reminiscent of the large circular windows common in gothic churches and the like, (2) fake plastic bonzai tree {that she bought from a rubber man}, (3) middlingly cast aluminium(?) buddha statuette (4) slightly askew wall clock, noting the location to be Kensington Station, London. i think ive been there. alongside this is an ikea table furnished by one of the least practical objects i have seen in my life. a water boiler, or kettle, in one piece. a water boiler, or kettle, connects to a power slot by a cable. typical of the water boiler, or kettle, is that the part one fills up with water, for boiling (kettling in some languages), detaches from the part which is connected to the power slot. this water boiler, or kettle, requires one to de-slot the whole of the device from the power slot before filling it with water, subsequently re-slotting it before turning it on. unless one keeps it really close to the water supply i suppose, in which case it is just an electrical hazard. this is an artifact i will not forget soon.

i think theres other things, but i cannot remember anymore. i am on a 3 day streak for not hearing dutch. i fear this will disintegrate the next time i enter a hostel.
please find here the .epub from yesterday for those asking (baudrillard) the system of objects.epub; there are more in the fileshare, i will be adding more soon. mail has been received, please see this folder while i figure out how to best display it on the webzone. im too tired to make it today.

23/04/2026 @ berlin (de)

i have made my way away from the coast and into the capital of germany. im going to stay here for two days and then meet a friend from home in prague for a few days. he wanted to visit. hope its not too touristy.

not that much to say about today. i had a basic breakfast by a lake, with a pinpoint view of the main church. on one of the trash bins beside the bench, graffiti read 'fk st nikolas!' in reference to the view. it probably does get old after a lifetime. stralsund has a direct/non-high-speed train line (two actually) that rides all the way to berlin. arriving to berlin, i remembered i hate all tourists as they walked carelessly-directionlessly in front of me at every opportunity. i figured out what platform the city-trains (s-bahn) leave from, and rode the first that went generally east, hoping to throw the crowds off my trail.

from what i have seen of berlin so far, it is many towering structures, which are either hundreds of years old, or made of glass, supporting a 'tk maxx' store sign. ive seen many of these stores in every place in europe, and i still dont know what they even sell. is it a department store? clothing? who knows. do not tell me. when i got closer to my nights rest (cheap hostel, but quite nice inside), this gave room to more traditional appartment buildings and the like. its nice.

on the advice of council i will visit the ohm club. its pretty close to where im staying. should be fun, it looks like a bassy night.

24/04/2026 @ berlin (de)

my first experience stepping into the berlin evening saw me at the u-bahn station, trying to find the s-bahn station at the same location. while doing this, i also witnessed a fight breaking out. two men were pushing each other and a woman was screaming. i just wanted to find the station, so i walked down some stairs i hadnt looked yet. nothing there, up again i watch one of the men get knocked to the ground. the woman is at this point being restrained by the entrance to a kiosk. very annoying if you just wanted to buy some cigarettes. i walked along to the s-bahn, and passed two young police officers on their way in, telephatically wishing them good luck.

the ohm club is nice. small venue, good staff, great sound. the whole evening was mostly filled with swaying bass music and a bit of jungle. small technical difficulty killed the music for about 15 minutes at the start of the second persons set, but nobody seemed to mind.

at about 4 am, i could not dance any more, and i was too tired to really enjoy the music any more. i started making my way back to the hostel. on entering the s-bahn, i was greeted by a true caricature of a homeless man: the shirt half torn, toes sticking out of his boots (literally), passing out heroin-style, wearing an eau de toilette with strong accents of vomit. at the ostbahnhoff, the man awoke and hopped towards a door to exit. strangely, he did not choose the door next to him, but opted for for an exit about 3 blocks down. his gait resembled something like an ogre. i have no other ways to describe it.

from the door closest to where this man was sitting, entered now an older russian speaking individual holding a bottle of vodka, yelling something at the second in his pairing. the companion was pushing a stroller-esque device that people often use for holding groceries and the like (a buggy?). one of the wheels got stuck between the platform-door-gap, and he fell rolling into the train with a kind of dramatesque. both of the men spoke some profanities for a while, attempting to un-stuck this device. the driver dutifully waited before departing. eventually they managed it, and sat down to pass their bottle around. i could not make it up.

at the hostel, after readying myself for sleep and entering bed, a group of at least six arrived and were speaking in the hallway for a while. there is no soundproofing on the doors. one of them manages to drop, shatter, a mug or other ceramic of some kind. it wasnt glass, judging by the sound. the sound was all i had to work with. i think its funny, in the absured sense, when something that obnoxiously loud happens on accident at 5 am. the group agreed, and after some dry-heaving-laughter, one of them miraculously managed to produce a vacuum cleaner, presumably from his suitcase. never know when you need this or that, better just bring it. in a room of five, i pulled two snorers for the evening. bad odds.

in the morning i had to change beds in the same hostel. while doing so, the older (apparantly moroccan) man noticed my farsi writing sweatshirt and excitedly began reading it. he could not fully understand, but said he really liked it. that makes exactly two instances where a person has directly mentioned this shirt to me, saying it is super cool. normally it just makes for uncomfortable looks on the street or scared shop employees.

not having gotten much sleep, i hung around in the lobby for a while drinking instant coffees. the hostel had put out some platters of fruit and small things to eat, which was nice. i had some nuts but mostly just rested on the couch for a bit. one of the younger employees posed me a question about what kind of music i like, he would put some on, as im the only person in the lobby anyway. 'i will put on the oldest electronic music', he said, by which he meant kraftwerk's autobahn. i recommend the kiez hostel in berlin.

i used a laundromat to wash some clothes for the first time since leaving, and along the way spoke to an italian person for a while. he was visiting his friend, and decided to wash his bed sheets for him, because, he explained, he works too much and had not done so in 6 months. some kind of computer person at amazon. mesmerizing concept. he gave me some information about venice, his homeplace. apparently more than 2/3rds of the residents have left the city, being consumed by ever increasing prices and tourist-catered short-rentals being more profitable than renting appartments. he called it a kind of disneyland, not really a home anymore. asked me what i was reading, said he also liked baudrillard. based. after finishing the washing-drying, he left with three bags to take an uber. his friend was paying for it. i exited some 10 minutes later, and he was still at the roadside. thrice cancelled, waiting on the fourth to get there. i mentioned i wouldnt mind helping him carry, as i was going the same direction anyway. no worries, he says. the uber driver needs a job too. 'we are doing redistribution here, from the amazon engineer to the uber driver!'. great guy.

tonight, on the advice of council, i will attend a noise show that happens to be just around the corner. afterwards, if i still feel like it, i could go to another club or something. theyre playing more bass at tresor. it depends how the night goes. have to be up and out of the hostel by 10 am. tommorow, prague.

25/04/2026 @ prague (cz)

opening the noise show on friday evening was a band of three younger girls. i dont know enough about this genre of music to know what to call it. it was really good, pretty energetic. the drummer girl especially. she had on a pair of those arm-warmers, which go from about the middle of the hand to about midway towards the elbow, red and black striped. after they finished their songs they started hugging each other and quite literally jumping up and down. love that for them.

the main band (group?), ramleh, is apparantly pretty pretty well known in this scene. the group seems composed currently of four british men who look like they have been stepping on pedals for the past 40 years. one of them (i think the main person) has something of a likeness to karl marx. one of the other people kept reminding me of somebody else, but i forgot who it was. karl marx b2b somebody, that kept floating in my head throughout the show. listen to their 2025 album! its really good!

i slept decently, checked out of the by-now overcrowded hostel, and got ready for a train ride down to praha. it would be about four hours via high-speed (railjet in this case).

annoying group of 11-12-13(-14(?))-year-olds aside, good train ride. finished 'the consumer society' and started on the collection of essays on the gulf war, but by this point we were pulling into prague central station. i picked the right side of the tracks to walk out the station of, which seemed a good choice. i have so far not been to the central. met up with my friend, we found some dinner (he had a mega-doner from a place called super kebab & pizza, which is amusing), and i picked out a park near my hostel to walk around for a bit. it ended up being a hilly part of town, with some steep climbs and the potential for beautiful views, were it not for leaf coverage. felt good to do with my backpack after a day of sitting still on a train however. not sure how my friend felt about it after walking around all day already. a small stream, a small waterfall, some bridges, nice warm lamps. good park.

checked into hostel, which i will expand on later or tommorow as there is much to write on. visited bar with friend, one recommended from a reddit page. great bar. great waiter. more later.

27/04/2026 @ prague (cz)

we are playing catch-up with the postings today. i have been lacking, as many are telling me, by excuse of coming home too late to sit anywhere and write about the days eventing. council has advised me to talk about the ramleh show, so i will. the venue had very friendly barpeople and an interesting crowd. there were two men enjoying the show (though maybe Socializing a bit too much in the middle of everything) with a striking likeness to my friend from copenhagen. they had a striking resemblance to each other, probably on account of being in the same class of Music Enjoyer. i am a very tall person, so at live events of this sort i try to keep to the sides and the back, as to not obstruct peoples view. it is rude to be tall anywhere revolving around a stage (including the kinoteque). there was one other man who did not agree with my view: taller than me, possibly on account of personal(?) taste in shoes, seemed to make it a point of moving the feet around and dancing (something resembling) during the opening act, a little left-sided of the center-room axis. if we let x be the width of the stage, and thereby the venue hall, and let y be the length between the stage and sound-guy-booth, both starting from the corner of the stage closest to the entrancing door way, his position was around (0.7x, 0.6y). a rude coordinate to exist on, by any metric, amplified by Movement. there is an idea floating around my head regarding Stature in the style of nominative determinism, which posits that the end-result in life can be influenced greatly by your christian name, as given by the parents. many things can do many things to the (ever-)developing mind-scape. opening act finishes, queue exodus into desert, for thirty-minutes the people wandered there, worshipping phillip-morris. the prophet marlboro spoke so: let my people chill. or maybe that is passé, and i am just unfashionable. on re-entry, i found a nice spot by the bar where it would be near impossible to obstruct any persons view. by my calculations, the least obnoxious place for my feet to plant themselves. the other tall man was not in my direct field of vision either, making me not think too much about it either. it is only when you are made aware of the Self through the Other, that you may see the Self! or something along these lines. . .

i viewed the four pedalists setting up their equipment while somebody played a quick set of dancey to punkey music over the intercom. on the show itself, the venue was entirely full. many people arrived only for this part, unfortunate for them to miss the girlies, my thought. some socializing, and the karl-marx figure would thank the crowd for coming, a starting gun. it is then i learned they are british musicians. felt more german, somehow. i do not really have the knowledge-expertise to elaborate on what the music Sounds like, just that i liked it dearly. some of their music has repetitive vocals that work well with the long-reverberating-instrument-shpiel. the men are not exactly capital S singers. it reminded me a bit of swans in that sense. mr. gira more so speaks his lyrics than singing. its a stylistic choice, im sure. part of what makes the vocals work is that at least two of them are speaking each word in-tandem, which makes it louder; this being what we are here for. next to where i was standing was a couple with a girl who must have been too short to really see anyt hing at all. we take what we are then, either the person who Must rude, or the person ruded. hard to say which is easier.

the hostel i am staying in markets itself under the terminiology of being a Social Hostel. it is everywhere mentioned. "we do activities :-)"-ism. the fact it is marketed in this manner must either attract the specific people ive talked about earlier (hostel lifestylers, who simply cannot help themself but stuck you into small talk conversation about anything (maybe even nothing) at all), or causes a person not specifically inclined into this behaviour to Mimic it, by way of personally perceived Social Pressure toward the Sociality, exerted by the signing inside the building. somebody talks about this somewhere im sure, not that i believe in sociology. im not a mark like that. on entry, the most forced positive young woman (i learned she has been working there for 2 weeks, probably trying to get through the trial period while under Permanent Supervision for now.). i pay a deposit (first time), and continue into my room. remember, my friend is waiting outside. on the hallway, a man immediately accosts me asking me how i am doing. this is what i am in for, this is the price i pay (on top of the very fair 20 euros or so per night, city tax inclusive). entrance my room, a man brushing his teeth follows shortly behind me. target acquired, locked. he is american, though i could not instantly tell from the accent (speaks quite candidly, compared overwards american travellers encountered previous). the state of utah, he says, the church of latter day saints, i propose. born a mormon, leaving the church when he was old enough to do so. he had a mormon look in his eyes, i already knew the moment he said utah and was in prague. i did not exactly catch the Why of his being in prague, but i understood he would be visiting belgium (along with some nearby cities like maastricht), learning so as he (goes without saying) asked me where i am from. of his planned travel-throughs, i explained to him like so: liege, very dirty, large; brussels, dirtier, rich (negatively); bruges: overcrowded with people like me and him, beautiful. on bruges i made him the recommendation of staying a night or two, waking late, and wandering the streets at night, alternative to Existing near 1000 tour groups. maybe he likes doing tour guides, this was offensive in some way, we can never know. antwerp: he would not be visiting proper, but passing through on the way to the neder-landen. i explained to him, its probably worth stepping off the train and viewing just the station building, as tourist attraction, then taking the next. he seemed interested in doing this. i hope he will. i questioned if he wished to perhaps move to europe, as he mentioned doing a few trips over the past few years to different parts (said he really liked portugal, and would go again). no clear answer given, i question, do you like America? he returns the ball: do you consider yourself patriotic? it is an americanism. no european loves their nation state, (the umpire watches faithfully). by this point we are exiting the room, i am leaving my friend to wait for no real reason. conversation stops as a man joins in the hallway, asking almost dead-facedly where im from, then enters the common area. exchange without raison d'etre, even dis-enjoyment on his own part. my american room-mate bids me farewell halfway down the next, tells me he would check out the common area also. au revoir.

with my friend we would head out and visit the reddit-certified (icky) bar, before mentioned. the location was good, away from a main street, no real signage apart from the ubiquitous cigarette-bud-poles outside, and a few people loitering about using said poles. inside, the best waiter-bartender of all time. recommends some stuff, i have an ipa, my friend starts constructing whiskey-colas using four seperate glasses and/or bottles. he likes his drink, the cola is 33 centiliter, larger than the more common 25 centiliter cola, as explained from his perspective as a whiskey-cola enjoyer. he ends up making three whiskey colas with his single bottle of cola. i have a beer, several beers, ipas of some description. they are good. the bartender walks up at one point when my beer is empty, asks me if i want another one, or in a little bit, ten minutes perhaps. i tell him in five minutes or so would be nice. one trip later to the aforementioned cigarette poles, he leans over smiling asking 'is it time?', 'it is time'. he was preparing that one, i reckon. pulled it off well. we must tip for it, and he had earned it. visit the bullerbyn bar in slightly-east prague, if you must go to a bar in prague. along to bed, no real adventures are had. one thing unmentioned so far, the hostel made me Equip a bracelet for the duration of my stay, of the festival variety. i asked, is this just free advertising, which the girl could not exactly answer. on entry to the door, past reception times, a humiliation ritual would need to take place: please use the Ring doorbell and hold up the bracelet, showing your innate love for The Hostel, and with that The Company. i did so. i was allowed in. it was dark in the room, and i moved as if somebody was already sleeping there, though i could not actually tell. the only hostel beds so far experienced that did not creak. a bottle of wd40 for the ikea bunk bed is typically not priced in at 19 euros a night, pre tax.

waking, there are two persons sleeping. a calm sleep for me really, a full nights rest on a slightly too short bed for my stature, which does not equal a full nights rest. it never could. on my map application i had scouted a location for a nature hike the next day, proposing the aspect of Hummus and Bread to my friend. he did purchase this, and the plan was settled. i wrote the previous post in slight haste, being interrupted by one of my roommates for a lengthy conversation. it was interesting enough, he was from syria, living in germany. extremely hung-over, he had partaken in one of the hostels activities, a bar-crawl. social hostel, yes. he would be driving back to his home town of leipzig. he explained he worked at a night club in his town, i forget the name. a story was told regarding the war in palestine, and a club in denmark (if memory serves). the story went as so: there was a War, digital, e-mail, on hosting-or-not-hosting speakers and other elements of the pro israel political sphere. lengthy conversation, e-war by social media boycott (whatever this exactly means, i could not determine), a proposition is made for a Presentation at this club, by members from his own, regarding the history of the conflict. no words can ascribe the amazement from my end at the prospect that his colleagues would travel to give in essence a powerpoint presentation for the case of education. i understand the words 'i am tired of it all' better from this. two men join at some point, one from edinburgh (economics class of edinburgh uni, judging by the donned hoodie), and a german man with the most pixel perfect english accent when speaking english. my own gathering, collected so by knowing this man from edinburgh and similar figures. not much could be gathered, i used the opportunity to write some more on the blog post, though by this time it was approaching 11:30 and i should really be leaving. too much time around hungover persons will make you lose track of time all the same.

meeting my friend, tramming down to the park, really still in the metro area. right outside the gate, a mcdonalds. interesting, though understandable placement. the amount of vehicles passing the Mac - Drive, not as much. a few slippery steps down, a hill up, passing by some goats. on the hill, out-standing views. the night previous i had discussed my friend his tinder profile with him, he explained, i only have two photos and as such you can only see two photos of any would-be persons on the phone screen. we will find some images. i took some images for him on this hill, and now he has three. i can make images, at least for That quality. we had lunch (brunch for me really, no breakfast was had), viewing the city and a stone cliff on the other side of the valley. on our return we walked past this cliff, and found a memorial by the base for a person dated as living 2017-2026, requiescat. continuing along the next peak, steeper. some great views. please find attached video, special made for one person in particular, shared with the masses. i proposed my friend to take off the sweater, wear a hat, we may make another photo which does not look to be from the same day at all, employing a masterful tinder photo strategem, passed down to me from others. he declined. he is better, skill-gapped on the podium for dignity. maybe a different reason, unsure. a swimming pool came into view, a genuinely disgusting mark on the otherwise nice park. from this point we began descending into a different valley, slipping and sliding a points. it was quite steep, and layered over with a dry dust. on inspection of my friends shoes, he did indeed have not a grain of grippage left on the soles. every step, a danger. a small hill would be slid down in its entirety, sitting as one does when making such crossing. i did not have the same problem, and thusly regained some dignity. i can hold on to tree branches quite well, though dodging them with the top of my head is less straightforward. a donkey and a stone, not applicable to me, seemingly. horses and water, perhaps, for the tinder imagery. it was only one more picture. a group of americans in front of us was having the time of their lives on the descent also, joking to my friend that one of them might have died, hilarious as ever. reaching the bottom of this valley, we would decide to not go back up the next, and follow a paved path back towards the entrance. looking at the mcdonalds bathroom, it seemed they have a door code. have to buy a terrible mcdonalds coffee then. i ask for the door code after collecting, the man informs me there is none. mcdonalds wins again. good store placement. the best perhaps, a raise for the location scouter. those are probably paid on a commision basis, by some mechanism i do not understand, and do not want to. visit the divoka sarka park!!!

next then, one of the local art galleries. bohemian christian art in the 1200-1500s, located at the convent of st. agnes. the gallery is laid out well, and shows the evolution of the more reserved style (many wood carvings of maria with a baby jesus) into proto-baroque gold-plated opulence. the piece most special to me seems to be a halfway lost image, tucked away without an explanation card, passing for a piece from a modern gallery by accident (pictured). beyond that, some incredibly impressive altar pieces. the wood carvings struck me the most. when the clock reached about 15 to 6, the most annoying old worker at the gallery started quite literally following me and my friend around telling us to go, pointing at exit signs and making waving gestures. no communication possible, we stepped from room to room with the Thing closely in pursuit. stopping to ask which direction to go, muttering some words, then half-time yelling something at a colleague, who did not respond. we walked into that direction and eventually found the door, bewildered by what just occured. on the way out, a different person who did not speak english brought us to a map to ask that we made sure to visit the very end, a dead end in the gallery one might miss, it is good, good, very good. i explained that we did, it had the most intricate wood carvings i have seen depicting bible scenes and the deaths of martyrs (the only thing on the menu really, for christian art). she smiled and bid us farewell. night and day. still cant figure out what that other womans problem actually was.

we had dinner at a not very expensive restaurant, beer and goulash. the best goulash i ever had, i believe. the beer was served within a minute, the goulash following perhaps two minutes later. great place. i recommend. there was Dutch on the table next to me. from my vantage point seat i could also view an older couple, donned with hats, kangaroo-pouch-bags, and a camera on the neck, enter the establishment. the caricature of the tourist. it felt almost racist to witness. afterwards, some more walking and beers at the same cafe from the day before. a political discussion often repeated, not repeated here once again. finding my way back to my bed, quick small talk with the utah-american just leaving for his evening. this explains his reason for being in bed until at least 12-early both days. this would be my last communique with him. ah well.

on the morrow, that being the morrow of this day of writing, i would sit in the common area with my laptop avoiding conversation while writing the topmost part of this post. a few instant coffees and a bag of nuts for brekky. not bad really. my friend was making his way to a kind of monastery, i did so also. at the tram stop, waiting for my friend, an american approached me, asking if i had heard of some location, she is looking for the 'some location uber spot'. i tell her i do not live here and i have never used an uber in my entire life. a loud sigh, as if i was the carrier of this information and refusing to give it up, a sphinxly character. perhaps look into using the tram system, or otherwise the uber application would surely list the exact location you must be at. okay, thank youuuuuuu, she relinquishes. some minutes later, still standing a bit further away on the pavement looking at the phone and back at the street, i walk along with my friend. tempted to download the uber application and just see if this woman is actually stupid or if it is actually confusing. cant imagine. the museum was not great, a few well preserved rooms one cannot enter. a large ornamented church on the premises aswell, gated off. unfortunate. not worth the trip out, really. next we visited vysehrad, the remains of a fortification. it houses an interesting graveyard, for Important people we gathered, mostly familial graves for the local Supervising Class. a large school group in passing, all the characters one remembers from those events years ago are present. a beautiful basilica, about three euros entry. not much to say other than its worth going to. when attempting entry, a man stood in the doorway proclaiming the price to his group of about eight, fully managing to block the entryway for an entire minute. drawing and quartering for those in conspiracy against public order. we walk around some more, from a vantage point overlooking the city i count twenty-five construction cranes in one direction, a tower blocking another two or three from vision, calculated guess, making twenty-eight. we stopped for a beer before dinner at a nearby beerhouse. the man at the counter asked if we wanted takeout or for here, an interesting concept for a place serving alcohol. querying our origin, he explained he would always walk about antwerp drinking on the street. respectable. the interior had something of a school atmosphere, caused so by the second hand school benches and classic form schoolroom chairs. some books decorating a shelf are labelled as chemistry books, all-but-confirming my hypothesis. at several points i did see people returning to the bar with empty glasses from some other street entirely, making me assume that if we asked for takeout, the next question might have been if we want a glass and to please return it also. exiting this beer hall, an extremely funny encounter: a woman talking to somebody on the fourth floor or so from the street, a jacket is dropped down and lands perfectly on a light or some other protrusion from the building. no way to reach it. we stand and watch for a while, eventually a broom appears from the neighbour one floor down, recovering the jacket. mesmerizing.

dinner acquired in a lidl, meal-salad. sitting in a park, my friend remarks we do look homeless. in spirit, you must be. it is the only way. i am getting very comfortable eating my dinner outside, passing the random lookers-on their judgement directly back. panta rhei. a man training his dog as a person training their dog in the park does. he stops and comes very faithfully, but simply refuses to relinquish the fetched object. some work there. plenty of time for these things. this would be my last day in prague. i would catch a train at 22:16, arriving at krakow around 7 am in the morning. a sleeper train! we begin making our way up a massive hill, meeting what feels like an american motorway cutting through a residential street. bizarre. entering a bar that has cheap beer, we order some, and i have to, 2 hours before leaving, run over to an atm as i have no cash. the euronet mafia did extract some value from me after all. unfortunate. the bar had live music, in the form of a group of lively older locals playing folk songs. a middle aged man in workers attire, reminiscent of the scenes i saw in london cafes, along with a younger man. some time passes, about 45 minutes before i really really have to start leaving for the station, this man joins us, the middle aged man having left for the night. he is very drunk, communication is slightly difficult, he explains he does not hear from his left ear, he does not hear well from his right ear, and he is faking dwunk (these statements are repeated at least 5 times seperately or together). we have a good chat through broken english, explaining i am going to poland, he starts talking about the similarities of the czech and polish language. the word kurwa is dropped, which we of course know. he offers to buy shots. engaged in conversation, i pass the mark where i realistically should be leaving. we eventually do, wishing the man good-bye. a lovely chat, great bar.

making my way to the station, i have about 15 minutes to spare in the end. i enter the platform, and after some communication find the correct carriage. i bid my friend farewell, and enter my accomodation. i have a 6-couch-coach to myself, judging by the reservation board plastered outside. this means i should at least be able to sleep a while, but not comfortably. there are police officers present on the train, which makes sense i suppose. it is now approaching 2 am, and i really should be sleeping at least a little bit. or maybe i will find a nice park in krakow to rest tommorow midday, that would work aswell. good night.

28/04/2026 @ krakow (pl)

about the night train i ended up on: i could not imagine sitting on this carriage for 8 hours with 5 other people inside of it. i got probably about 2 hours of actual sleep, the rest was more like resting fully awake. the curtains were impossible to really close, illuminating the room constantly by first the lights in the , my door kept opening by itself and sliding around whenever the carriage shaked or stopped, blasting the eardrums with the outside sounds. those sounds included a man at some point yelling for no reason i could gather, and him gaining from that no response back anywhere. curious, a bit scary. the very last leg of the train has regular travellers boarding to reach krakow central, and i have to compose myself in my carriage where i was rotting for the past 8 hours. overall, not a good experience, but fun to try. it really is a cheap nights rest(?) considering the reservation of the seat was only about 6 euros and the ticket is included in the interrail thing.

it was fun to arrive somewhere that early, before most coffee shops are even open. i would not say i was feeling very good, at this point i have not showered and barely slept. kind of felt like arriving home at 9 am after a venture in to germany for a klubnacht: not ideal, but somehow energizing. i found a park, broke fast, felt cold (it was cold (i might need to find some 2nd hand gloves somewhere)), and eventually found my way into a cute cafe called rêve, french for dream. after a while i noticed the speaker system was playing old french music. it fit well, but i had to know. on my second espresso, i questioned the bartender about the music playing: your own music, or . . . ? 'hm no, i have to play like this, because, .. atmosphere'. i understood. its in the name, the full package. after coffee, i still had some stuff to eat later, so i decided to pick a nature place close by. figured out the tram system (you can by 24 hour tickets for the greater city of krakow for 5 euros), and trammed my way over. i sat on a peak for a while. my right leg is hurting again after sleeping awfully on it and probably overexertion. i was climbing all the hills with my backpack on, of course. i am getting much better at carrying it about and just forgetting about it. this both for the extra weight as the extra effort in balancing. i walked about that park and sat on top of rocks for a few hours just relaxing. it was nice.

i sorted out my accomodation, beginning to feel the effects of my lack of sleep. i found a private room for 30 euros, double bed. works for me. went into a store to buy some early-dinner/late-second-lunch, which i ended up not actually eating until real-dinner/not-lunch, unsure what to do, i walked in a random direction and ended up on some awful streets. shopping complexes and 500 million personal vehicles. seeing the Real Poland, as the locals do, in passing a h&m by a highway ! i headed towards the center more eventually via tram. regarding krakow trams, they work, theyre nice. i watched some walls for a while, before going up to see what this fortressy part holds, and heard a tour guide person enticing passers-by. i felt like speaking, so i asked the man if he enjoys his work. a colleague joins us, later to learn they are married, family business i suppose. my english little, says the man, the woman not so. her family has lived in krakov for 150 years, she enjoys giving the tours for the sake of meeting all kinds of people from all kinds of places. a christian woman, as almost everybody in poland is, she had gone on a 180km 'camino', a kind of pilgrimage, in spain, she explained. it was a nice random interaction. she told me to go up to the fortress and view the tombs in the church, and so i did. the tombs are strange. its a great many coffins of all kinds, ignorantly ornate or intentionally boring. a few child sized ones, unfort. the church it self i could not tell you much about: entering right before me was a tour group of 30-50 feral [redacted]s, sitting already inside was a school group. bit crowded in here, considering only 1/3rd of the church can be walked in.

at this point i decided my permanent running nose, only having gotten 5x worse since arriving in poland, is probably hay fever. i bought some citirize from a pharmeteknician, and checked into my room. instead of a double room, i have a 2+1+1 room, whatever. i shower, eat some random stuff, and start feeling extremely tired. eventually i decide to leave and have two espressos at about 8 in a cafe a bit away. overworked woman behind the counter seen serving a near endless stream of capital a Annoying people literally ordering Iced Matcha with x y z, spoken in polish so i cannot understand. conspiracy. i must know the recipes,,

i walked in a park nearby some more, but still cannot really keep my eyes open. back to my place of sleep, writing this sentence as i write this sentence as i write this sentence as i write you get the point, good night!

pictured: cool bridge we saw in prague

29/04/2026 @ warsaw (pl)

waking in my double plus one plus one sleeping room, i decided i did not sleep well enough considering my expectations. not sure why. i exited and felt dehydrated. this makes sense, as i had not had water. the bathroom sink was not large enough to fill my bottle, was the reason, probably. i bought water, something i do not like doing. microplastics, yes, but the Optics of it more-so. two espressos and water later in a small cafe, now i am hungry. eternal torture. death by hanging. i walked about for a while, and eventually made my way into a lidl, via tram-ways. it was close to a park i figured would be good for eating. most of them are really. not all. in front of this lidl was a person in a carrot-suit, presumably promoting the lidl. i gave It an o7 and It o7nd me back. those suits are a tad unsettling, mostly on account of the eyes not working. you cannot tell when or where they are looking. apex predator, a different life. i note that when the hunger spikes enough, pre-starvation, and Sustenance is acquired but not consumed, it kicks into gear some mechanism where by one starts walking faster, desperate. in that state i passed the lidl carrot person again, and left for the park.

i had my breakfast, not without interference from two seperate unleashed canines eyeing up my bread container. they did not act, their eyes larger than their bite. most people in poland seem to walk their dogs with out a leash. no real insighting on that, mere observed. at this point it was about 1 pm. i wanted to visit a different park still, but the right-leg pain was steadily returning as i had not allowed it full rest. i did not feel like hiking up more mound-hills, and left for the main city.

i walked about there for a bit. it is crowded. too crowded, too touristy, same-same. the rest of the city much more enjoyable. one large ancient building in the city centre is host to at least 6 Tourist Shops (you know the kind) right beside one another. it can only be a money laundering operation, i become ever more convinced. though in prague i did see an older woman with an 'i <3 prague' beanie. could do numbers in irony fashion circles. also on the main square was a person wearing what i believe was disney-land merchandise, a pointy wizard hat with mouse ears, advertising tours or something of the effect. i asked if the hat is part of the job, whether he has to wear That. he answered no, it is personal hat. fair enough. caught my eye. rounding the old-old-town is a circular park, mostly composed of one main pathway lined with benches. right side of the old town is a seemingly new overpass, seemingly new as it is nearly devoid of graffiti. it has that new-build concrete look to it, unnaturaly clean, sterile, unfit, fake, planned, calculated. better later, assured.

one coin flip from a friend later, my next destination would be warsaw and then along to gdansk. the train to warsaw was of the coach-car variety, six seats. i did not reserve one, guessing it would not be very crowded, saving me five euros or so. it was not very crowded, and i saved five euros or so. some minutes poost boarding, and some minutes pre ticket checking, a man pushing a stack of water bottles down the aisle offered each passenger a complimentary bottle of water, still or sparkling. each took one, i did not. i had already purchased water that day, more later in the day even, sorry to speak. when exiting, i noticed at least two of these bottles left unopened by fellow travelers in my coach. wonder if they place them back on the pallet or not, when found by the sweeping-team post-last-stop. nobody in the coach spoke a word to one another until i half waked from my sleep to see it is nearly my arrival time and the train is stopping. unsure if this was my station, i asked the passengers if they knew if this was warsaw central. it is warsaw west, next stop would be central, they tell me: the ice broken. a small conversation about where we are from and where we are going. the man beside me was from gdansk, said i should be sure to go to gdansk if i am in poland (i will). he was using a laptop most of the ride, cooking some surely masterful prompts into some kind of ai bot, which one is thankfully unknown information for me. afterwards, he was aggressively scrolling facebook and linked in, github tabs visible on the browser. aggressive in the sense of pinpoint accuracy in moving from post to post. efficiency, speed. not sure if this is better or worse than mindless scroll-throughs without taking in any information. perhaps he is a nootropic enjoyer, not uncommon among the transit-productivity-evangilized. friendly lad though, saveable, perchance.

arriving in warsaw central and exiting the station, one is immediately greeted by a mass of cars, parking places, transit, and also a very nice building. i will be doing my best to stay away from warsaw central. i got a deal of 22 euros for two nights stay in a hostel about 40 minutes of tram outside the city, too good to pass up. the trams ride until midnight and then again starting at 4:30 am or so. no problems there. i had a look, and there is a promising looking night event on thursday. leave at 5, take the tram back, not too bad. i had some great ramen in a kind of strange establishment on the way to the hostel. about four tables inside, cheap interior, all workers visible being polish 20-30-something men. great food though. really good. it is a chain restaurant, i learned from looking up. makes more sense.

the hostel building was a bit hard to find, having to walk between two buildings into an area marked parking for a different business. very strange place. best described as a large house where the guest rooms are used for hostel beds. a family-run business, the man taking my details at the lobby being the husband of the slightly more open mother-matron. two small (what i think are) pomeranian dogs walking and barking about. pretty cute, for a dog. shown my room, there is a person in a bed with his laptop on the chest fully laying down, gold medal gamer posture. a different seating room, a man with a full monitor and keyboard setup in a corner. i get the feeling it could be the place one gets stuff stolen, though im not sure why. maybe that is deep-run unconscious pole-phobia. maybe it was the location itself, hidden away next to a highway.

going down to the lobby, equipped with a table and two couches, i nearly cause a familial dispute when choosing my location to write this evenings post. the man asks his wife multiple times if she showed me the other seating places, getting progressively louder. i get the message he does not enjoy having people in the lobby while it is open. the conversation continues in polish, sounding not so friendly. i understand this, the feeling of being watched, and take it to mean i should seat myself elsewhere. i walk into the kitchen to sit with an instant coffee then, i am chatted to by a man sitting here. from espa~n~a, not spain, he corrects me. a musician, bass guitar, he also has a normal guitar with him. in a band? a producer. rock - and - roll. how one produces rock - and - roll, solo, using guitars, i could not mentally picture. i left it at that. he showed me a qr code for his instagram page, which is funny. he had a sweater on, one of those loose half-sleeve sweaters, embrandened with the same name. 30-odd-something-thousand followers on his instagram page, i caught in passing. he is loudly viewing a cartoon or something on a tablet.

some other polish and russian speakers pass by here and there. eventually a blonde young man comments on my height and asks where i come from. belgium, belgie ? gij zijt van belgie ?, he answers back. i had not clocked his accent in english up to then, but yes, a man from ghent is in this strange hostel with me. living there as a semi-permanent home, it seems. lost his job, came to poland for opportunities in work while living cheap. respectable demeanor. he was dumbfounded by finding a fellow belgian, spoke about how he loves my accent. not many belgians say they love limburgs, with regards to belgian accents. kept switching back to dutch when addressing people he would in english, on account of being able to queen out with me in dutch for a time. he and his friend make a pizza in a strange looking oven using open flames. every person who enters the kitchen is told, hey this guys from belgium! like me! gregarious lad, when i looked closer, he did indeed look like a belgian named ilias.

other characters introduced include a few belorussians, one ukrainian woman, and poles of various types. one extremely drunk young woman. nobody else seems to be drinking, so im curious what that is about. writing this on the kitchen table, the two belorussian lads are having a lively conversation at the table. wish i could follow. that will be all for the day, 11pm.

pictured: poster concerning construction information i viewed on the street.

30/04/2026 @ warsaw (pl)

the mornings events played out like here put forth. waking from a mans default iphone alarm, 7 am. he is on my top bunk, his phone on the other side of the room. a race, then, involving a scramble down and off the bed to disable the alarm, surely generating more noise than an iphone speaker is rated for. i have spoken on creak-y metal bunk beds, these are the creak-iest. some more rest post this, noting that the man whom the night before was using an rgb laptop in bed has the most terrifying death rattle of a snore. i slept through it though, indicating my gaining personal resilience to the hostel experience.

eventually i get up, pulling a loose door handle off the hinge to the bathing room. thats alright, it seems to not be the first time. i fasten it back better than i found it, akin to the motif of filling a thrashbag with others litter along a hike. i shower, first thinking there is no hot water, but realizing the polarity on the hot/cold handle is simply swapped compared to the blue/red indicators. no problem, happens.

entering the kitchen, i was planning to have an instant coffee or three with a bag of nuts. the belgian and associate enter, some small talk, they put Something in the oven. he has been in poland for two months, his friend three years, management studies. out-of-the-blue a woman enters, asking something in russian. the belgian man communes back in english, she states (approximate): "i need somebody to come with their phone, record my conversation, i need to call people who need to give me money, and i need somebody to record with their phone. twenty thousand dollar i need from them, [frantic] twenty thousand>". the belgian obliges, placing his phone next to her in the clearly closed off reception area. she begins calling, audible through the closed kitchen door.

the whole affair took a while, and the Something the two lads were cooking is lightly-to-severely burnt. they are consuming some kind of dissolvable powder drink called grip. okay, sure. it looks yellow. they begin putting some kind of jam (i reckon) on the lightly burnt dough flats. if you recall, the oven in this house is one with open flames. on top of this oven, there was a precariously placed roll of paper towel. the kind one might see in Industrial settings, for filling towel dispensers in a public bathroom. as the jam is poured, i notice some smoke eminating from atop the oven. no thought of it, they did burn their breakfast in said oven.

a small time passes, and it turns into a veritable line of smoke, clearly eminating not as residue, but of a concurrent smolder. "quite a bit of smoke coming from there, no?" i remarked. the young man stands and lifts the towel, exclaiming, "yoo wat da fuk?" as he holds the paper up, showing one side of it fully blackened and pouring smoke. i let out a giggle (an hehe, perhaps), unsure what else to make of it. it is worth noting that this whole time there is a woman loudly discussing, in either russian or polish, some kind of monetary payment in the room next door. bit chaotic for 9 am. the flame is doused, windows are opened, eventually the lads go outside to eat, the smoke quite efficiently making the room uncomfortable to sit inside.

the mother-matron enters the kitchen, asks what is the smell, i explain somebody left a paper roll on top of the oven and it caught fire, showing her the doused paper in the sink. oh, thank you, thank you. i did not really do anything beyond observing. wonder how long it might have taken the lads to notice. please view attached video for an insight into the kitchen layout. eventually the woman attempting to reclaim money from unknown figures finishes her conversation, and quite instantly asks the belgian man to send her this video, "for the proof", i overhear from the kitchen.

this would conclude the mornings events. or so i thought. when arriving back from using the bathroom and grabbing/putting away some stuff, a lively debate between the hosts, belgian man, belgian mans plus one. something about so-and-so got sick, hospital this or that, you are dishonest, you had sex with her, she got sick. somebody gave somebody an std? i couldnt figure it out fully. it went on for at least 15 minutes. maybe i will ask in the evening. not sure where in the diagram of appropriate that falls. cannot not call it a private conversation, an open reception, drinks non-inclusive. i leave for the tram, wishing to acquire a raincoat, thin foldable variety, from the uniqlo store. it will rain later in the week for a few days, could be good to have. i used to have one from uniqlo, it did me well. i cant imagine what i was looking to buy will do the same, but i have an umbrella backup. warsaw is host to what people tell me is the largest shopping mall this side of the eurals. i do no not care for shopping malls, unfortunately. born too late for that, or whatever. something in this effect, anyway.

mall signage for Bathroom gives right of way to signage for Carrefour market. it is a large carrefour market, strange placing inside a shopping mall. seems more useful places of worship might be placed in its place. like an extension to the zara home store, a zara offshoot which not only exists, but also sells home decor items. zara branded pillow, 20XX. i found what i came for, and made way towards the carrefour, contradicting my owns thoughts of it being a strange addition to the construction, quite handy really. on the menu was either Hummus (Olive Oil) or Hummus (Oriental(?)). they looked identical, and i went with olive oil. i can conclude it is not the largest mall in europe, the one in pristina was far larger. gz kosova.

acquired lunch, triangulate a promising park: east of the center, over the bridge, few metro stops. the metro system seems to work well. they have actual gates to be scanned to catch would-be fare evaders. the metro seating has cute imagery of various buildings, a bit soviet looking overall, considering the seats are red, the imagery in black. red, also, is the M on the yellow-background round signage showing you where to enter the metro, making the whole thing feel sponsored by the mcdonalds corporation; this is not out of the question. my mother once told me a story of visiting poland a while after the wall fell, a place i cant remember. the central square of this city had, in due time, been granted a veritable mc-basilica. on this square, one could spy mcdonalds workers picking up cigarette buds, and so on, meaning it was probably better for them to clean up outside their store, but in their sphere of influence, rather than relying on government employees, for the image of the mcdonalds corporation. im sure theres a 3 hour video essay about this available some-where.

the park was good, host to another interesting object: a re-make of a statue re-presenting an advisor person to woodrow wilson. erected in '31 and de-rected in '51, if you choose to believe the common histories. it reminds me of the bill clinton statue, on bill clinton boulevard, pristina. do look that up if you are unfamiliar with the bill clinton statue in pristina. funniest sighting at the park, a middle aged man walking about with two beers, open, looking vaguely confused as to why he is holding them. some 20 minutes later: one beer, same square. beast.

postwards, 7 zloty espressos, i decide to visit the modern art place in warsaw. its by the center station, very big building. one pretty enjoyable exhibition, julie mehretu, some story-high-wide pieces, others smaller, white background and do-as-you-wish line drawing. my favorite. the ones that over-use color i do not care for. look her up, if one wants. two exhibitions of the very feminist type. good message, not enjoyable to look at. too many colors, crude nudity. they all kind of blend together (as does whatever messaging the white plaque attempts to ascribe to every piece). freud interjects,,,,,. one part of one exhibition had a timeline of various events, and objects representing those events, the whole of which had Meaning. among these events and objects: drexciya helps define detroit techno. drexciya! drexciya mentioned. a cd object accompaniment. honorable mention to these 2008 american election pins.

exiting the gallery, dutch streak reset. ik moet hier in, she says to the group. ok. it goes without saying we did not last more than 10 minutes in prague anyway. tommorow, maybe better. i suppose speaking to the belgian man counts, but theres a difference. its my webzone, my rules, after all. i make my way back to the cursed hostel, 7pm. the neighbourhood is quite a bit nicer than initially thought. in walking the wrong way, i first manage to find some clusters of commie-blocks, a fan favorite assured. many of them are also either replicas, an echo of the style, or simply painted over. along with that, the embassies of (1) the republic of panama (2) bangladesh (3) the phillipines, which was notable for its pinoy-tourism adverts on the facade.

arriving, three persons typical (maybe) of the 10 euro polish hostel smoking over beers in the garden, groups of two-and-one. the garden is unusually well done, seating for at least 16 or so. i didnt feel very hungry, so i did not eat real dinner. i sat in the garden for a time, snacking on some bananas and nuts, writing this message you read now.

we have received messaging from readers. i forgot to check the Box in prague, and then forgot to attach them two times in a row. personal apologetics. please find fanmail here.

01/05/2026 @ gdansk (pl)

a group of indian and spanish individuals in the morning, looking for the reception. family business, i explain. maybe in a bit, maybe later. they ask very carefully if they would be able to sit down and use the bathroom, i make the calculation that yes, probably, likely, they would not care. some communication via google translate phone passing in the kitchen, we need to study english, my english is terrible, read some of the notes passed. the hosts arrive, i make my way up to get ready for the day

in each bathroom of the house is placed a washing machine. samsung, they make washing machines, one of many. the program has 20 minutes or so remaining. my finishing up, the things procedure done, a rendition of an almost arthurian melody plays over the speaker. a beep would suffice, better even, in the sense of not feeling cheap. having the washing machine play a melody is like an rgb led strip placed on an electronic object: it looks, and is, in function, worse, calculable.

some more small talk with the indian man i had built rapport from, he is from kerala, a part of india on the southwest coast, which is not notable except that one of my old roommates was also from kerala. it is the only of its kind, being a region with a majority christian, church go-ing population. this man was a-religious as i could tell. there from latvia, where he studies business management, to play a student football game the next day.

argumenting by the hosts, supplements this, against one another. they speak english to each other, the father is from some other part of the world. he dons a Clavin Klein Jeans coat, so marked in large red lettering, slightly too wide and short to look good. hard to read what he is thinking. looks stressed out about anything and everything, to the point of anger, code switching to a more kind demeanor when speaking to me personally. an act to appeasement for a booking dot com review (it was asked for, at least four times), or genuine appreciation for not being the Average person staying there, non-calculable, either-or. i make my preparations to leave and encounter the belgian man again. i had to ask my burning questions related to the weird conversation yesterday overheard. he explains: for a month or so he worked here for food, board, a bit of pocket change (his words), staying in a cottage with another man doing the same. the other man got very sick and stayed so for a while, needing full care each day, unable to move. eventually, the hospital. via-via, after the fact, come to learn this man had cared and slept beside had tuberculosis. really. angry about not being informed directly so he could have tests taken or the like, creating further friction. further, he has been having arguments with the hosts for a time now, on account of his stopping work unexpectedly, wishing to just pay his way in the house. he said he and his friend had about a week left to stay, and would need to find new accomodations after. i felt a bit bad telling him about my own plans after that. talk of money and hardship makes shame. shame. shame. gij zijt gewoon ne belg. damn, one of the last sentences he spoke to me before i took my leave. good luck to ilias from ghent.

i make my way toward the old town, stopping by a large grocery store on the way to my tram stop away from the cursed hotel. not super cursed really, in the end. just chaotic. id recommend it at the price i paid just for the experience, the house of binici, probably the last name of somebody. i did leave them a review, lying on the cleanliness part. part of the problem, i become, hoping to leave somebody following my footsteps the same unexpected experience. stopping at the grocery store, the doors really, it is may first, national holiday. ah. closure. the old town, not a friday crowd then, a national holiday crowd. not ideal. i take the tram and buy some assorted pastries (n=3) for breakfast at a convenience store, no fair-priced condiments being available for the bread rolls on offer. i will not pay 11 zloty for a tuna spread half the standard size. not happening.

the old saxon park, quite nice, first indicators of a mass crowd i was already fore-seeing, actively. i try to walk, intercepted at every attempt. a stroller, three strollers, impossibly slow walker phenotypes in groups of 8, and so on. it is a national holiday, the national people are holidallying. i decide to have an espresso. 10 zloty. not bad, considering the situation, a cafe on the busiest market square. too much water in the espresso, no water to go with it. sitting near a window, at first really quite peaceful, rudely interrupted by dutch, a mylar flow of sound-waves perfectly through the crowd to my eardrums. this cafe had a sign stating the bathroom is 10 zloty, espresso free of charge. they understand my personal technique of sitting down for a 5 minute espresso whenever i need the bathroom in public, and mock me for it. though that was not my intention this time. i figure out how to get to gdansk, and realize that the offers on booking dot com on a national holiday-day, same day, are quite slim. 60 euro hostels on hostelworld, likely price-hiked for that day specfically. my miracle, a single bed appears at 30 euros on a refresh, probably the result of some cancellation. i was considering stopping at a smaller city along the way for better odds by that point.

acquired accomodation, a train to gdansk at 15:29, forty-five minutes from that point in time. crowd-weaver i am, i arrive at warszawa centralna too early, hurrying a little bit, and feeling like a tourist for it. on platform two i wait a while, a man approaches for money, hits the 'bank transfer is ok' in response to a well-practiced 'sorry brotha nothin on me'. one has to wonder if, like street musicians, they may just upgrade to a full on payment terminal at some point. the train to gdansk was relatively uneventful, a man sitting beside me oscillating between nervously laying on his seat or hunched over the table, placing his phone there, in both states quite glued to it. might he be gambling, i wonder, soon confirmed as the charger socket stops working for a few minutes, when he gestures his phone toward me to ask if my charging port is working. it was online poker, which is at least more respectable than slots. maybe he is good at it, maybe.

a note on warsaw. i mentioned before the street outside is absolutely terrible, X-way intersection requiring many seperate crossings of lights. from what i saw of warsaw, not an uncommon sight at all, it is everywhere. the whole city is, unfortunately, sprawly, personal vehicle heavy, the works. at the central station (and some other places), there are underground tunnels connecting different tram spots and rail lines, underneath the traffic. these are claustrophobic by any standard. i had to duck my head slightly at the most narrow parts, or else i would simply not fit. its a major swag detractor, not being able to non-chalantly stride as i normally do, grave-ego-harm. as for the tram and metro cars, not constructed for my stature either. i did hit my head multiple times. both of these, of course, being amusing sights for the local warzsawazian, assured.

exiting gdansk main station (glowny, they call it in poland), i knew i made the correct decision. we are back in the area of baltic architecture, another ancient hanseatic city. at some point called danzig, a german settlement, as far as i remember. some history about ww2 there that i do not know, except knowing of. the area between the station and where i would be staying was lovely, cobblestone roads and walkways, the like. somehow calm, peaceful. exactly what i have been looking for. on the way to my hostel however, this would change. it is located on a small island east of the old town. attempting to dodge people taking photos at the waterfront, an immense crowd materializes. there is a bridge everybody is using, and half of it is closed for construction. i find my hostel, and speak with an apparantly slovenian man for about 10 minutes while the (severely overworked) reception person handles something about a bike rental for two other men. the slovene explains he does 'volunteering' at the hostel, a strange wording for what he means: working for food and board, a bit of pocket change. more common occurance than i previously thought, but i suppose it makes sense given the industry is providing beds to people for cheap. he is guiding the bar crawl that night, it will be really nice, you should come. not my vacation, unfortunately. he explains he did the same thing in italy for a while, really living like kings with his co-workers on account of it being a ridiculously cheap place to exist on tourist money. he talked like he was drunk, explained he was homeless for a bit before this gig. fun guy though. an esl mastermind, concocting all new meanings and ways-of-saying. looked only about 21. the reception guy takes my details, i get the tour he has given more than the days of his life will number. in trying to figure out why a light in the room is not working, he leaves his keycard in a slot. he told me specifically, do not ever forget your keycard! hearing him start another round of the tour with new guests, i quickly return the card to him, saving the embarassment of missing it when he has to show them how to unlock the front-door, and so on. he was listening to some nice music at his desk, explaining that during quiet hours he can fully blast it through the lobby (an entryway with a miniature reception desk and uncomfortable looking chair) without issue.

i leave the hostel for an evening walk of the town, and so i saw the town and so i saw that it was good. i find a different bridge connecting the island and the mainland used as a carway, with absolutely no pedestrians on the large walkway beside it. this opens my vision to an open mass of housing blocks, of which i took some (pictured). nearer again to the old town, by a large statue of some kind, a fenced off green area, inexplicably containing the lid of a pot. it looked cast iron, which would make it an expensive lid to throw into a park for litter. as i took a note of that event to my phone, a man of english descent exlaimed in passing, yes that is typical chinese people. not me, though a part of me still wants to believe.

i stop at a lit-up park to have some nuts, mieszanka studencka. probably means student - mix, mix of students, students mix, similar variations. common (famous!) in the pre-sold nut mix area of any self-respecting grocer. preferable to trail-mix, in my eyes. correspondence chess - style debate is open. seating arrangment: eight benches two-by-two, walkways seperating, a circular floral area in the middle cut through length-wise by another walkway, so making one straight line, for walking efficiently. a symmetry revealing, blatantly and mockingly, the day of christs second coming, or the secrets of alchemy, if you ask the right people. not helping this are three curious sculptures of lion heads rounded off by flowers inside the previously mentioned semi-circles. the importance of the number three is, of course, immediate.

occupying the bench one counter-rotation away from the bench my parallel (a sign regarding moon-cycles, assured), a man with at least one beer can and two other objects i cannot make out beside him, alternating between pondering with his head in his hands, forward-staring, or hanging his head and hands down, resting the arms on the legs. at some point a woman approaches me and asks something, polish or russian, only english, sorry, responded. she thinks for a solid 30 seconds, a few false starts of a sentence, and finally smiles to speak 'hm, ok', walking away to approach a couple on a different walkway in my view-range. they seem to expediently handle the query, pointing her in a direction. many people did pass by, posing no further questions, the usual figures near a city center on friday. the funniest sighting being what must have been a single group of 10 or more on the same kind of electric pay-as-you-go city bikes. their loss. returning to my hostel, long way, i encounter a woman in her 40s or so playing system of a down - toxicity from her phone speakers, singing along the with the tune, not something anybody can predict. polymarket odds would go nuclear on that one.

entering the kitchen, common-area, of this hostel. two men are watching anime on the large television by some couches, which is respectable. i say my hellos, and write up this post. i will note we have received another piece of fanmail, enclosed here.

02/05/2026 @ elblag (pl)

when closing my laptop the night previous, post publication, i was greeted by the slovenian 'volunteer' returning from hosting his pub crawl. he explained that they did less crawling and more sitting at a nice live music bar, per guests requests. he reckons he did well, and will be kept on once the Management hears. he explains that for this hostel volunteering business there is a whole ecosystem, including phone applications, at least one, where hostels can receive applications from people previously rated n out of 5 stars by previous hostels, and vice-versa. when he is done here and gets a good review, he will reach the common benchmark of five-five-star-reviews, exclaiming he will 'be good for, uh, life, you know'. he explains doing pub crawls or other guided tours are the easiest jobs to do in a hostel. i wished i was counting every time he said "pub crawl" in his slovenian esl accent to me. at least 30 times in these two conversations. a whole different world, different way of life. in praha, the parties there are insane, my guessing he means a different kind that i know: high cultural-ibiza-index. the man was a fountain of information, a veritable word-waterfall. i might have spoken 1/15th of the time he did, which i do not mind. i listened carefully as he told of cheap living in napoli, attached to the story factoids about the volcanos there, a man had built a swimming pool into a volcano to save on heating; in praha, a story about a finnish co-volunteer he offended by telling her she 'dressed sexy, you know', the slovenians are very open people, you know, he explained, it is not offensive there, i offend many people i think. same place, he attempted to have sex in a broom closet, while blackout drunk, with a girl, also blackout drunk, and was caught, being chased down the hallways when restarting in the administration room, caught on cctv, subsequently scolded. these incidents left him expelled, Management telling him, 'i could be put into the courts[sic], or you know uh, rape, whatever, but is like they dont know what heavy intoxication is, slavics we know what heavy is, you know'. i understand. he lost his jacket that night, pointing me to this new jacket, a weird side story involving somebody pulling it down while donning it as a cape, and being too drunk to realize. talking about the jacket made him realize he was wearing it inside, i have just a shirt on, he takes it off, revealing him to be wearing those wooden bead and block bracelets, you know the kind, expertly mass-manufactured for identical-imperfections, making them symmetrically-imperfect, along with a white button-up shirt covered in a graphic design, late-2010s-esthete him being, fitting his arms slightly too well for how thin the man is. an appaling fit, overall. he had a striking resemblance to an old classmate from high-school, helped by his top-heavy curly hair lightly covering the forehead (colloquially, a 'zoomer perm'). his father fought in three wars, 'or four, maybe', eventually, i find my way to sleep. one and a half hours have passed.

the morning, another encounter with a phone alarm at 7 or there about. two men talk for a while and hurriedly leave. their towels are left dry on the bed. i make my way to the common area for a tasting of my dwindling instant coffee supply. entering, the tv screen formerly showing an anime of some kind, now showing a car-crash-funny-fails-compilation while an older asian gentleman prepares breakfast in the kitchen area. left on autoplay, perhaps. not left on autoplay, really, the man calmly sits down at a table in center-view of this television and analytically takes in the car-crash-compilation as he eats. unreal. i had trouble concealing my smile at this, though he did not notice. i sit for a while, deciding that day to do laundry and make my way to the next town along the north tracks in poland, being elblag, a relatively small city of fifty thousand or so. eventually speaking with another employee, he is from algeria, asking about the shirt i am wearing (contains arabic writing, Formal Arabic, he names it). we talk for a while about arabic electronic typing styles, using the latin alphabet and numbers as substitutions in text, things of this nature. i knew some persons from algeria a long time ago, skype-era, so i was already aware of this. he spoke french, as this was the lingua franca (yes) of algeria for a long time, in his university programs specifically. i pack and leave, making my way to a now open 'biedronka' a polish supermarket chain. their logo is a ladybug. the name means ladybug. fine, fine. food-lion, also.

i struggle first to find a good shaded place to sit (it is warm), by grace of time-of-day, day-of-week, holiday-factor. i sit in an annoyingly placed bench, too close to a too-narrow-walking-way. breakfast had, i manage to find a cute cafe serving Good coffee at middle-high prices. they have merchandise in the form of embroided hats, a dog-mascot, and a bathroom door positively sticker bombed in various pride/music/political arrangements, the clean indicator of a local institution, a Place to be. i tell the barrista, good espresso, 'i know, i know, i drink allot.'. mogged me. one sticker mentioned 'circlista antifascista', with a png of a bike, presumably meaning 'antifascist cyclists'. i cannot exactly tell what that could imply. two espressos, i go to the laundromat. the visit is boring. some people. pass in, out, exchanging a hello and nothing more. i leave, having dried some stuff and left the rest for air drying. i make my way toward a nearby green-circle on the mapping application. it ends up being outside a museum, housing a soviet statue (pictured). the museum building, is a good building, made of what i know to be corten steel, a kind of steel-composition building material that forms a clean rust finish. i like a rusted building. three circular walking or biking paths, the rest cobblestoned, more than fine for walking on, encircle the statue. i seat myself on a bench at the outer ring, good view of the museum and comings-goings, homeless-cosplay in full effect as i hang some clothes out to dry in the sun on the bench, has-to-happen. many people seemed architecturally guided to walk in the exact circle that would make them pass one meter in front of me, instead of taking a more direct path. if i recall, this works on ants, also? in my time there, reading, i saw at least fifteen people pose for a photo within the same kill-box of about five-over-five meters. many of them, very red finnish tourists. a man at the hostel made me aware that many finish people visit gdansk, he was a finish person visiting gdansk, after this i began hearing finnish every place i walked: a spell, a curse of knowing.

my clothes dry, i leave for the station, heading to elblag, 6 pm. the train there was interesting. i opted for the first that would stop there, a regional train passing by gdansk and terminating at elblag. when it pulled into gdansk, it was near full. i opted to still get on, walking a few doors to find a spot right by the doors, and stepping inside as a whistle was heard. its a nice day out, yet by the doors there is hot air being blasted down. they have the heating on. every standing, seating, spot is taken as far as the eye can see. one child starts yelling. blaring. i smile and gaze at the window. good situation. some girl speaks to her friend in polish, xyz-situation-abc, real. one stop, 5 seperate people get off with bikes, causing a solid 2 minute delay as the packing problem is continually re-solved by the shifting crowd, allowing them to pass. the crowd thins a little station by station, eventually i get to stow my backpack and sit. in elblag, the atmosphere is quiet. five men sit at a football pitch, one taking the goal, the other doing penalties, three on the bleachers with open-containers. i got a room for about 140 zloty, 30 something euros, not too bad for a personal room. when booking, i was presented with an option. imagining the User Story written up by the booking dot com programmer describing this. it is in a hostel, but this is not a hostel, it is a collection of private rooms that calls itself a hostel, so as to not have a lobby or any service associated with Hotel. this was a cursed hostel, the yin to the binici's yang. i received a front-door code and a room-key-locker-code. the front-door code did not work. i tried many variations, and stood there for a while, phone battery sub-10-percent. hmm. a random person eventually walks out, i catch the door, he glares a bit and keeps walking. ok, fine. the airbnb key locker code was correct. regarding the whole building, it is scary. a common seating area looks like it has never been used. a single teddy bear sits placed on the couch, aesthetic of a realtor dressing up an open house. three bathrooms, one of them missing a door. its just not there. two showers, one out of order, marked by a paper note. the lock to the room is loose. i nearly push it out completely trying to re-lock it. half the doorway is blocked by a cabinet, the door-frame is situated about 5 centimeters off the wall, revealing the insulation. my room is dressed as a hostel room would be, 2 metal bunk beds making four beds, but rented as private. a window is open. i note i could quite easily climb in through it at that state. the other does not open, seemingly glued shut on one corner. there is nobody in this building. eery. i cannot leave, as i cannot get back in. fine, whatever. eventually, people arrive, at least one family, making the whole thing less strange immediately. somebody left a trail of water through the lobby and down the hallways after showering.

03/05/2026 @ olsztyn (pl)

first morning thoughts: my room has two massive windows, which gave a view of a river, with a dry bank to the left, and a row of nicer houses to stay in, bringing to mind a question: if a peasant house in the middle ages had a line-of-sight onto the burgh from a window, would that be considered under the mark View, in the positive sense we use it now? is a pleasant sight onto another persons wealth View, or is that declusive? i slept badly. the bunk beds have no headboards, making my pillow continually fall off as my body is, of course, too large for the mattress. instant coffees, some fruits. i step into the shower, one of the sliding doors is half-way-de-attached from its holding mechanism. mesmerizing odds, this thing has not shattered yet. eventually, i begin making my way to town, only interaction in the hostel being a slightly scared looking middle aged woman who said nothing.

on my way, an encounter, exiting the suburbs and encountering a cute tram line, an older man stops me to say something, sorry, i do not speak polish, english?, yes. he follows: you have beautiful design! beautiful!, and gestures his hands up to down in one motion, angled as a V, seperated about half a meter apart. you think so, thank you, i answer, good day!, exit stage right. an awesome compliment any way you want to read it, i could not tell how to, language barrier adding to the mystique. i will not forget this soon, you have beautiful design.

i negotiate an interaction with a cashier at a zabka, a chain of small convenience stores i have noticed here in poland. it is another holiday here, constitution day, combined with it being a sunday, not much else is open. they sell a variety of items though, even some baked goods. in a small park i watch a man struggle to get his two dogs, one very large and one comically small, into his car. one goes in, he opens the door for the other, one goes out, so on. eventually i view him toss the smaller one inside, he leaves frustrated, revealed in body language. elblag apparantly suffered highly in the second world war, and it shows. a city of one-hundred-twenty-thousand, first settled in the 1200s or so, does not typically look like This. wiki-pedia, the free encyclopedia, anyone can edit it, states: "[...], after the war it became again of poland.", a good sentence. please also view this article. in the store was a new type of Drink, in a can, which ended up being lightly flavored mineral water. disappointing.

to the old town, a few blocks away. its nice, and small. some very wide streets, some land plots that clearly housed 'a' building at some point, but no longer. many buildings here are modern-re-constructions in the old-style. making the whole thing feel a bit kitschy. there is a beautiful old church, a red brick structure converted to a modern art gallery, as well as a brick cathedral typical of the region. one building resembles the structure of an old slavic/nordic temple, which probably has a name, the kind with long sloping roofs, made here in The Brick. i sit at a cafe, nobody speaks english, i only know how to say hello, please, goodbye. the conversation thus: hello, please espresso, please card, goodbye. could be worse. i visit the gallery, being lucky it is not closed for the holiday. the building itself is great. imagine a gothic church missing the top of its arches, replaced by a new construction wood roof, situated higher than the old, completely gutted except for a titanic wall ornament, and a great amount of gravestones, making parts of the floor, dated to the 1300s even, weathered by foot-traffic for centuries. the art itself is simply bad. one wall has 'graphic design illustrations' which i clocked as ai generated, though it might not be. view attached picture, make up your own mind. nothing interesting is seen, and i cannot read the cards for a back-story. a side chamber has a temporary installation of strange chairs and the like made of pvc plastic tubing, burned, frayed, which i did like, but not especially. one piece has a motion detector, and begins moving erratically.

a bit after midday, i walk along a main road to the station, boiling in the sun. i had to hurry to make it in time, which i did, only to learn my train was delayed 8 minutes anyway. i sit on the ground at the station platform, expertly maneuvering myself into a cross leg position, and eventually back up, without taking off the backpack. i get more agile about wearing this object every day, which is nice. 8 minutes late indeed, rolls in an ancient looking assembly of carriages. it is a regional train, terminating in olsztyn, which is my destination. on this train, i notice a strange happening. everybody that boards walks to the front carriage, a mostly open area with only one or two seats, i am sitting in view of this in the front minus one carriage, to have the conductor scan their ticket. i have never observed this custom before, but the people here did it automatically, genetic memory. no hostels in olsztyn, but a private room for 32 euros two kilo-meters from the main station, away from the main town, high ratings for the price. i pay 32 euros and shortly after receive some door codes to use, dis-hoping for repeat of the previous evenings occurences. i mostly sleep on the train.

olsztyn main station, south exit, places one in front of a motorway, in view of a mac-donalds, reminding me again of who is really in control, the irish, all the way down. i turn left, following my mapping application, away from the actual city like before mentioned, wanting to deposit my backpack. i have not really eaten much this day, it is beginning to wear. i will be making a concerted effort to eat more, i think to myself, going along the grey-brick-road to wonderland, or however that story goes. i end up walking a full 2.5 kilo meters along the same roadway previously mentioned in an industrial terrain. not a good place to walk, pedestrian-limbo. i pass nobody, one car honks at something. its still warm, i am malnourished, pass under a railway bridge, into more industrial terrain. my sleeping place is apparantly, 100 meters from here. okay, sure. i first walk into the courtyard of a different building, the only person-way still remaining, the yard is fenced off. re-checking the maps, no, i have to walk onto this loading area for some logistic center and take a right. okay. then, my building appears, completely hidden behind an industrial building and a different unexplainable appartment block. i suppose this makes it 32 euros a night for a private double room, it is the worst real estate of all time. the whole building feels specifically built to be a self-check-in-hotel, making me think they really bought and built this thing for the exact reason. the key-codes work, i get my keys, there are some common areas spread around my floor, a well kept kitchen with eating areas. the whole thing feels new. a comfortable double bed, modern bathroom. i have a view of the loading dock, tommorow i might spy some employed individuals from my tower kingdom. i eat a salad and two cans of tuna, and rest for a time. it is 7 pm or so.

eventually, i make my way back out, 8 pm, i need something more to eat, and want to walk around for a bit. i navigate through the neighbourhood, a place that exists everywhere: vehicle re-tailers and re-re-tailers, some with a license plate still attached, a joy-ride in early stages, any takers, anyone at all; a building plastered wholesale with a michelin man, not a factory, i think, but too large, tall, for an office purely dedicated to office work on tire distribution; a makro store, if you are familiar with the concept, the bus stop in front of which is labelled MAKRO; a single story building, sun washed front-sign with exotic birds and the like, labelled on the map as a zoo, a sad affair even if it is not permanently closed yet. these all, my neighbours, in this neighbour-hood, sidewalks in flux, here and gone again, a glimmer, a procession takes form in the grass, permanently marked, point-of-no-return, a pathway of the people. very common sight in poland, perfect curvatures, please view attached image (a carved bike path down a hill, next to some stairs). sub-urban housing, increasing to sub-urban housing with blocks of shops in states of closure, permanently or not, massage parlors and the like.

i walk about for a while, enter another zabka, and purchase a sodium-maxxed meal: noodles and microwave pierogi, a local polish food, a dumpling, knowing it will make some persons mad that my first experience is the gas-station-equivalent. arizona iced tea, some flavor i have never seen, 7 zloty. even in poland they cannot respect the price point, not now, anymore. returning back, walking about the whole Zone of the city i find myself in for a time. i enjoy the broken industry atmosphere. it is empty. wanting to walk in the middle of the car-way, a death-drive, fulfilled by driver, assured. i spy a tram line exiting from one blocked off gate of a lot, crossing the street, entering another lot, now just a wall. i return home, eat, and now write this. that will be all.

04/05/2026 @ elk (pl)

i got up in my strange industrial sleeping house at about 10am giving me about an hour before check out. i forgot to buy hair conditioner, so i have to leave with my hair looking a bit bad. some instant coffee and nothing else, a dobre to the cleaning lady, which i have learned from my time in poland is an informal kind of greeting in place of using the proper dzien dobry, but also just translates as 'good', i leave the abode and start on my trek to a living area. this would not take long, the road left empty on the previous night is now a full church mass worth of cars. sun is blaring down, it is already 11 am. my stay in the warsaw hostel left me believing that you cannot drink regular tap water in poland, as they specifically pointed out a 'filter water' tap to me, leaving me this morning lightly dehydrated, locked out to mostly 'muszyna' bottled water from stores, the bottom-shelf cheapest mineral water. often i will accidentally buy carbonated water, i cannot read the labels, not always bad, but not always wished for. sometimes i have opened the bottle, unexpectedly, my shirt is lightly soaked. fine.

i enter a lidl seen on the previous evening, a large one, housing all i could wish for, including some hummus dearly missed the previous few days. the polish like meat more. hummus, you find only in larger grocery stores, and only in the multi-national ones, unfort. i must eat more, generally, so i buy more, today. i opt for the cashier waiting line to save myself the self-shame of the polish self-checkout. horrific experiences at these. they have loud-speakers, that loudly-speak at you, place the item in the bagging area, item removed from bagging area, among other descent-revealing soundbytes. i leave the store, and navigate to a nearby park, by now customary to any readers. quite busy for a monday really, but i find a shaded bench and sit down to eat.

post-opening of hummus, but pre-breaking of the bread, a girl of about my age approaches me, we overcome the language barrier, she speaks very good english a few quirks common to non-germanic-speaking-english-speakers aside. she asks about the backpack, what model it is, it looks nice. i explain, an osprey so and so, given to me from my mother, a womans model, not that theres much difference. she hikes, just returned from montaigne over holiday-weekend-plus-one, skipped a day of university, because, hmmm, noo, i will just go to the mountains. explains she did the interrail thing once, going down to italy and so on. she seemed bad at making eye contact, but good at talking for a long time in response to small questions. in response to something about north germany, starts talking about the cross-knights, if i know about the cross-knights, its very important. eventually we get over the language barrier, the cross-knights are the teutonic order, the northern crusader state, which i do know about. the cross-knights are very important in polish history, so we have our own name for them, she tells me. that makes sense. she speaks for a while about polish history, asks me about what i know of polish history, which is a bit above average, but not very much. its a nice conversation. my hummus container sits opened but untouched throughout, she sometimes glances at it, as do i.

she is in olsztyn for a doctors appointment, a small mole appeared, it needs checking. the waiting list for a dermatologist in gdansk, she lives in gdansk, is five years. our health system, it is not so very good :-), as it is explained. has about 2 hours to kill until then, do you want to walk around the city for a bit, i can show you some things, important things, you are going to lithuania also?, it is important for lithuania also. the cross-knights, very important for lithuania also, which is true. i agree and eventually begin eating, some more conversation in the meantime, she finds architecture interesting, speaks about the dutch renaissance, she visited enschede in the netherlands at one point. there are 17 art galleries there!, and i gaze at some pictures of windmills and the like, gallery pictures, phone-screen-transmitted. she asked to try on the backpack and said it was good, i need something like this, use code CYNOSURE10 at checkout, i get a kickback. we phone-navigate to the old town, which is still really a long way. the city of olsztyn has a very strange layout with regard to the station placement. i am thinking to myself what she was planning to do if not this. i forgot to ask what she was studying.

a walk of the city, once we get there, a statute of copernicus, copernicus was polish, which i did not know. its a renaissance figure, under the sign Renaissance, at least, so i figured he must be italian. marie kurie is mentioned, though i did not understand the pronounciation at first. i did know she was polish. we enter a church and peek through the doors, a mass is on-going, it would be rude to sit in there, much less to speak. closing the door, quickly crosses herself. a christian, in some way, many people are. today is the start of the important state-wide exams for persons finishing high school, i will notice young people dressed formally, she tells me, i did notice, more so from that point on: it is a custom, enforced by social pressuring, a respect-form, during the examinations you will wear formal clothes. it is standardized testing though, graded by people you have never seen or known, the clothes do not make the pole then. except the verbal exams. no way around it then, you must wear them always, lest your verbal examinator was pre-offended via dress-choice 2 days previous. the whole town has too many glaceries, ratio restaurant-cafe to glacerie being nearly 3:2. every coffee shop also sells ice cream, making it a glacerie by extension. resulting, many people eating ice creams on the street. a quirk of this town specifically, or the whole region, i cannot exactly tell. the girl was from gdansk, she liked ice cream, lemon, pommegranate, some sorbets, the like. i like pistachio. not that i eat much ice cream, ever, so i just have the same taste as 15 years ago. i am lactose intolerant, somewhat, probably a mental thing, so i explained, leaving it at that.

eventually, at a time when i think she was cutting it quite close to actually making her appointment, good-bye, enjoy your trip!, you should visit the castle museum. a good encounter overall. the castle museum was closed. i went to a cafe then, and negotiated an espresso doppio, which is a double espresso in what i think is italian and not polish. its a market square cafe, quite nice. some people-watching, more formally dressed young people, indeed. there is a quaint town hall at the middle of the market, making it a square-circle market. it is busy, not especially so. from my seat i notice some graffity on the colums, holding up the n (n > 0) other floors of buildings housing typical market-square-establishments, like this terrace cafe. in my sight, a few tags reading, i think 'PARTY', though it might be 'PAPTTY'. the tag is not a tag at really, the stylizing is different on each. it might be using a special character common in latinized slavic alphabets. party is funnier, so i mentally noted somebody tagging the word party all over the city, excited about the general concept, in place of a name. i walk about some more, the castle gardens were open but without much to see. a sign only in polish, ah well. i decide my next location, meanwhile eating some more, i wanted to eat more, i remembered, which is why i bought some random pastries also, though that is not really food. it would be the city of elk, three hours via regional train. i mostly slept some more, though i did try reading. on these old trains its a bit too loud, but at the same time quiet, just annoying noise, no atmosphere. an old guy kept throwing glances at me, looking a bit confused as to what i was, not helped by english communication at the ticket person. dobre, dobre.

pulling into elk station, two rail lines over, a line of tanks and other armored vehicles just sitting on the tracks. nobody else on the platforms. a bit bizarre. as i gaze at the tanks, i see the train driver cleaning the rear-view-mirrors, hanging out the window, which means they probably did not find this an interesting sight. we are in Tank Factory Town, famous for its Tank Factory, after all. it would be a great carriage to ride if you are a freight-train-surfer, though you just might get picked up by a more scary police force than the locals if somebody spots you, super-feds, supra-national-feds, likely. i make my way to the staying place, struggle with the inner door for a bit, a very nice woman communicates to me in funnily broken english. red opens the cage, first floor door closed to the lower lock. it did have two locks. she tells me, to pay for my accomodation, leave cash on table when we leave. okay. the code for the masterlock-key-locker was 0-0-0-0, which is the best code i have received so far on my journey. a close second was code 0-0-0-1 for room 01. when i opened the sliding window that hides the number rolls, it was set to 1-0.5-0.5-0, an attempt at scrambling. dinner from store, i sit down, it is 9 pm, that will be all then. i have four bunk beds and a shared bathroom, though im pretty sure there is nobody else here.

05/05/2026 @ bialystok (pl)

i slept until about 9. the main shower head, a modern type, round, wide, straight down, in this newly renovated appartment-hostel-thing, was broken at the connection, making it fall out more like a real water-fall. i had hot water for about 10 minutes, but thats fine for me. sitting at a park, viewing birds for a time, crows mostly, some very small, cute ones aswell, hopping about the grass. i ate some nuts for breakfast, just listening. if you sit at a park and really just listen, i have noticed, the sound of birds is overwhelmingly layered. a mourning dove, other types of chirping i am not educated to identify, a rumbling container truck. i sat for a solid hour interchanging using Phone and listening, occasionally smiling at a local, who were none too pleased. i left eventually, concluding that yes, my right leg is fixed, some overdue stretching excercises, transmitting it to the port-side-ankle. not good, i walk slower, slower, slower, no worries.

elk is located by a lake of the same name. on a small island in the middle of a narrow passage over-water is the ruin of an old castle. its not much of a castle, more a 17th-century landowners mansion, the kind with many floors, but no front-yard to speak of. a wall straight up from the pavement outside. there is a bridge connecting both this, the main city, and a grouping of sub-urban housing with a nature reserve the mirror-side, i walked over both, it really exists. some council workers on the one side, one of them points me out, i notice from my eye-corner, the others gaze just as i do, making the whole thing a bit awkward. i gave a kind of wave, non-reciprocated. i get to the other side, there is a walking path along the waters edge. i make it a few hundred meters, i sit down at a wall to have some water, the clock strikes 12. i have a nice gaze at the town, quite pretty really from this angle, listen to the church bells (accompanied by some music, oddly, it seemed to come from a different place). five teenagers pass by on mountain bikes, one carrying a speaker around his neck, three out of five of them had helmets dangling off backpacks, and so on, instead of worn. i get that. i wanted to visit this nature reserve, ankle not allowing this, i headed back the exact same way i came. not meant to be, in old times they might throw me from a cliff.

visit a store, find a park, yadda-yadda. i went to a biedronka, they sold hummus. many people in this store, many towering trays left in the hallways, a large amount of waiting for people to pass. an employee clocked me as a foreigner and told me helo, greeting the next with a polish mix. ok, hallo. speaking of which, no dutch for 3 days! hope. i viewed pidgeons, there were only pidgeons in this park, many of them. one seemed to be sexually harassing another, probably just a couple though, one more excited than the other. the harrassee had a perfectly white beak, making it almost look like it was carrying something the other wanted. pidgeons do that thing where they wrap their necks around one another, as affection, all lovey-pidgeony, which is where we get that phrasing from, maybe. on my last bread roll, one bite taken, a shadow rises over me, a polish question asked. a minute or so of attempted conversation, my-self confused why this whole affair was taking so long, his-self a bit frustrated by the lack of communication possible. he made a gesture of 'Eat' or 'Food', gesturing toward my hummus. i was, essentially, robbed of one bread roll and the rest of my container, lightly intimidated by this man standing over me, a large visible scar across the eyebrow and bottom right forehead. i gave it up willingly, he accepted, yet kept his questioning up, stasi maneuvre. i made eye contact with a local, asking, pre-verbally, what is this, but i was ignored. on the street, the best one can get with polish people is a stare, broken by my own gaze, or a kind of angry look, reason unkown, so i do not know what i was expecting. he seated himself back eventually, the other side of the park, directly in front me of me. i left some 10 minutes later, a bit perturbed about my lost calories.

i would be going to bialystok, a larger city, not massive, a train in about an hour. i visited a shopping mall to use the bathroom, those are always free. they had speakers in the bathroom playing at first music i would describe as videogame-overworld-music, then switching to one of the funnier cuts i have heard in recent time, especially given the context, time, place in the world, place in the specific, please view attached video.. other parts of the song included references to guantanamo bay, the patriot act, and so on, unexpectedly catchy, in a board-room-pop-song sense, a clinically researched choon. i mostly sleep or window-gaze on the train, not making it more than 10 pages into whatever i am reading. the polish rail-scape has a lack of solar panelling on the buildings, though, they may have stashed them on account of the weather, it was not sunny today, and would rain later. we passed by a kind of fair or similar event-space, it being positively deflated, emptied, the bouncy castle and inflate-able slides, they are. probably set up for the just-passed holiday weekender. the station buildings here, still boarded up, partially some of these, a high-visibility-wearer was smoking a cigarette outside one of them in a place named 'Fasty', sure, okay, he walked inside, the only visible non-boarded opening to the building. wonder what use it holds still, what secrets all of them hold. sacrifice chambers? perchance. i am just asking questions here.

bialystok station, arrival, i make my way directly to the residence, passing multiple churches on the way, one being a genuinely strange modern construction, i seemed to remember seeing a picture of this thing once in my life. view, i especially like the statue inviting you into the front gate. i am staying in an orthodox community center, which also hosts sleeping rooms for some reason. it has the atmosphere of a sleeping room in an orthodox community center, a basic white bed and table, a small icon hangs above the bed with no other ornament anywhere, practical. i rested for a time, then grabbed dinner from a store, being a meal salad, two cans of makerel, some carrots to eat raw, and two croissants. its an arrangement made especially for my tastes, being that i have none. i return home, wishing to rest my ankle as much as i can. i sit down at the desk to eat. there is a view of a different church and a massive dirt parking lot. as i am eating, i get to people-watch out of the window as it slowly empties out. i saw an orthodox priestly figure, which is funny. it reminded me of an incident i did not write down, i had forgotten, in krakow i saw a man walking about in what you exactly think of hearing the words 'monk', thinking it was an actor of some kind. somebody explained to me that no, it really is a monk, living in a monestary, wearing a brown body coating with a white rope belt. they really do that.

i went to make some coffee in a common room, and noticed a bookshelf. for an orthodox community center, the selection is interesting, romance novels with titles like 'Harlequin Desire' litter the shelves. other picks include 'PEGAZ', which features a white winged horse with red and black crosses, evangelion, evangelion mentioned, i suppose, if you are that type of person. the water boiler does not fit under the tap, but as solution they have left a water-cooler-bottle, the 5 liter or so ones, near the water boiler. i drink out of a novelty milky-way (the candy bar) branded cup. i think i forgot other things i wanted to talk about today, i forgot to make many notes. the sound of the morning birds drowned out many thoughts, i reckon, not complaining.

06/05/2026 @ suwalki (pl)

i woke up in my orthodox bed room this morning at seven in the morning, the curtains did not fully close. i stayed in bed until about nine. it was pointed out to me that beyond an icon to worship, there was also a television, for viewing polish network television, angled so that one could lay in bed the entire time through. i did not make use of that, who has ever, i barely register the hotel tv anymore as object. what i do register, have been registering, is the use of wood-panel-presenting tiling on the walls of most renovated bathrooms around here, in poland. i cannot tell why, but it is Fashion, it is 'in', wood-panel-looking-tiles.

i leave at 11, taking all the time possible to rest the ankle, it has not helped so far. i go to the closest store and buy breakfast, some fruits, 3 liters of water. i make my way to a stream on the map marked as having benches and secure the last mostly-shaded bench. across from me is a kind of liquid-pipe with grafitti here and there, flying low across the small ditch. i could not see any actual water, perhaps it has been replaced, in function, by piping. between this, a walkway. my bench is lightly sunk into the ground on the back feet, making it angle up, not super comfortable, likely reason for it not being occupied. my water bottle rolled off once. on the other side, a walkway, interrupted midway along the canal by an offshoot of this same piping, you have to walk a ways around. a bit to the left, a parking area, straight ahead, the road and walkway to this parking area, revealing the front buildings on the next street over. i view to my front while eating. a man navigating somewhere on his phone, clearly confused where he is supposed to be. he walks around a building after a few minutes, but re-appears looking ever confused five minutes later, before vanishing entirely. a woman walking a large white dog, looks at her phone for a solid 3 minutes on the walkway, then walks into the blocked off part of the walkway previously mentioned, turning back. you have to imagine its a local walking their dog, and they would know this already. a car stops, a man with a backpack gets out. he stands there for many minutes, possibly 10 or more, eventually joined by a woman, they are now both looking around, the man calls someone on his phone. eventually, a third figure shows up, or gets out of the car (i was not looking at that point). they were still there when i left. a woman wearing a bright blue suit, the kind that comes in one whole part, i forget the name (romper?), walks over to a car on the left parking way, and enters. she only actually leaves after 5 minutes or so, and does so slowly. there were no birds here, really, not enough nature and too close to a main road. a few crows, mostly on the other side.

i went to a cafe, figuring out accomodation and so on. i had many hours to kill anyway, and nothing good would come from walking about the city now carrying the weight. i would be going to the town of suwalki, the last 'larger' place this side of the rail-tracks before lithuania, my last stop in the nation-state of poland. when entering lithuania via rail, i looked this up, you stop in a small village of 70-odd people, which houses the gauge-swapping machinery for trains continuing on the old soviet tracks, they are either larger or smaller than the euro-standard. my train would be a regular transfer. seems like a great place to get stranded if there are cancellations, knock-on-wood, population doubled for a night, though most would start taking taxis, assuredly. i am curious what the place will look like, it looks like i should have twenty minutes to look around, if the time-table is real. 12-midday train, one of three that run that line per day. the cafe was pretty crowded. 10 zloty espressos. they sell cake here, and ice cream, as every place in this region of poland seems to do. it seems to impact the health of the people here, some strange builds about. a woman close-by my seating was already on the phone when i came in, and was still so when i left. two people sat next to each other looking at one laptop screen, pointing things out to each other. the music felt fake, elevator-music-no copyright tier. i sat close to the counter, overhearing a polish conversation between the two people behind the counter, xyz-six-sevennn, hehe. respect that. the girl spoke good english, as many young people do.

i left for the park centraly, name self-explanatory, to sit for some more time, eat some more. there is a large monument, facing the neighbouring intersection, and a man cutting the grass beside it. i get a view of a different man, anxiously, scared even, clambering up the platform holding a small selfie-stick, waving hello to the man, seeking approval, legally, of what he was doing. i looked away for a time. at some point, i noticed the grass-cutting-ambiance had stopped, the selfie-sticker had engaged the council-worker. it went on for a few minutes, as i saw it, afterwards the grass was cut some more. specifically, the grass growing between the stone tiles around the memorial, i figured it was a memorial any-way, those monuments tend to be memorials. more students passed by wearing formal clothes, formal colours anyway, many of them had on cargo pants and the like with a white shirt, which does not really fulfill what is asked, i felt. it looks correct enough from far away, which is probably what they are betting on. the whole park is snowing over in fluffy pollen-balls. on leaving the park, by the other side, a man is shouting on the phone, kurva this, dobre that, et-cet-era. dobre, dobre, i wanted to tell him.

i make my way to a laundromat close by and toward the station. very expensive this one, 15 euros for a wash and dry totalling an hour. maybe i could learn how to hand wash clothes. seems soulful, draining, monotonous, maybe i should not. these laundromats i have been using are all of a modern make, short programs, expensive looking machinery, contactless payments. a sign in this one notes that, if the laundry is not spun, call emergency number, do not pay, we will remotely start a free spin program: it is connected, even, to a kind of round-the-clock help-desk dashboard, the big 2026. in a few crates, scattered around the establishment, are washables left behind, one crate containing two mis-matched socks, another containing fleece-looking blankets and a novelty santa hat. there is an empty flower pot, which contains a tennis ball. you cannot put a tennis ball into a washing machine, instinct tells me, i considered taking it with me, for a reason i could not explain. i could not get the dryer door closed, a woman helped me, she was more confident in slamming the doors than i was, scared of breaking something. she had already done something that was Verboten, washed a dog bed (it looked like one, anyway) in the large 25kg washer, which when collecting spilled dog-bed-filling all over the place; it had ripped open. a sign (multiple) stated not to wash 'animal things' in the washing machines. i had been too late, and the machine had reset to its normal state. a sign did indicate that you would need to close the doors within two minutes, or have to pay again to make it work. i did not call the emergency number for a remote-activated spin, resigning myself to putting the wet clothes in a double-layer-bag-structure and taking my leave to the station, feeling mildly scammed.

the walk over took longer than expected, making me a bit fortunate to not have dried my clothes, i might have been cutting it close. at the station, i struggled a bit to find the platform i was supposed to be. the interrail application only does timetables, and does not have platform numbers to show. the rail in poland, the inter-cities specifically, is very fragmented, you have to find the specific operator website, which is probably untranslated, and even then it is sometimes not listed, you must find and decode the station board. in poland, they typically only list the platform number, but a platform typically contains two tracks, it can be either or, have fun. another inter-rail-fact, some intercity trains you must reserve seats, and for others still it is recommended. i do not recommend reserving seats on the recommended-reservation trains, it has not felt necessary. on the ones you must reserve for, it typically costs you a few euros in the local currency, not included in the main interrail ticket. most of these websites are either machine translated to english or have no translation at all, which makes them fun to use. same thing with some of the self-checkout terminals at stores, only in the local language, making it a good user-interface-design test: can you figure out what buttons to push without reading?

i entered my cabin. the other passengers, two older women and a young man with pollen allergies, i could tell by his uncomfortable seat shifting at his ever closing sinusses. i tried to greet with a smile, answered by an angry-looking-look from the older woman, i had disturbed the relative peace of their cabin, i suppose. i read for a while and fell asleep, instantly awakened and en-livened by the ticket inspector, this causes a surge of stress hormones, for no reason at all, and makes me not able, or wanting, to sleep more, so i read more. no conversation happens on the train, some landscapes are seen, and so i saw them, and so i saw that it was good. arriving in suwalki, the station is funny, gravel-covered platforms and extensive construction work, one walks through a gravel parking lot, many cars honking for the people they are picking up. i stopped and looked for a while as people made their way out of the station. from the main wave, i counted exactly two other people who walked away instead of stepping in a car. one is seen zipping away on a rentable electric scooter. two point five kilo meters to my accomodation, not good for the ankle. a rest day is not really a rest day when i end up walking 6+ kilo meters per day carrying a backpack anyway. in lithuania, real rest days must happen. its not too bad without the backpack, really. i knock on the door, as agreed over text, and a woman greets me in polish. she is very excitable, the whole hallway smells of cigarette smoke. i have an attic room totalling seven beds for 99 zloty, the cheapest in the town. its a whole appartment, really, completely covered in authentic wood panelling. i have seen showers cut into the floor before, to prevent flooding. the shower here is on a 30 centimeter platform, encouraging flooding. perplexing structure. the tap has a light on it, a little led around the rim, that enables when the tap is turned on. okay, thanks. she shows me the back exit i can use to come and go, tourist door, open. i will be leaving a good review. there is an erasmus mug left in the cupboards, allowing me to steal some valor from whatever person managed to lose such an artifact. please enjoy this dinner picture. i hung up my still-wet washing, i hope it will be dry tommorow. we call this a cliff-hanger.

07/05/2026 @ kaunas (lt)

i would have to leave my nice attic appartment at 10 this morning, train at 12. my clothes were dry, very much so really, i ate dry granola, from the bag, a good purchase, it was raining, there was no way i was having normal breakfast today. on recovering the bag holding all my shower-equipment, i learned my shaving cream container must have gotten pushed down when packing my bag yester-day, causing the entire inside of the bag and its contents to be covered in shaving cream. oops, but not my fault really, just bad odds, it has a cap on it and everything. i left via the 'tourist door', leaving the keys on the table as instructed, it smelt still of cigarettes, though signage clearly indicates the tourists are not allowed to partake.

i went to a mall to shelter-in-place for a while, i saw it on the way over from the station yesterday. the station itself is under construction, or i would have considered going there. regarding the whole of suwalki, this is limbo. this place might not exist at all. the part marked 'centrum' on the map is a house-sized park, appartment blocks, like the rest of the city proper, and semi-open travel agencies, the like. there is no reason to be anywhere other than home. enjoy this picture. at the mall, some looks aside, not much occured. i sat by the entrance to a phone shop, the kind with display phones, samsungs is all i could see, as well as phone cases. there was an extensive sales pitch-and-bat that lasted about 30 minutes from the time i arrived, much laughter, im sure this person got up-saled on something at the least, not that they were unhappy about it. another person entered the make-shift comedy club, had some laughs, and exited with a white, branded, shopping bag. that would be all, i will wait the rest at the station, fresher air.

the waited-for train became boarded, a very distressed look from a rail-road-police-officer aside, pearl clutching. in my carriage, one seasoned looking traveller, long haired, wired earphones, and a slightly formal dressed, normal-haired young man listening to music with his legs crossed, massive yellow square-form backpack, mysterious, no words exchanged. the latter took out a camel-cigarettes package on the change platform and smoked a camel-cigarette, other passengers following the trend. one british man asked the conductor how long it should take, the transferring train, and then hit a vape midway through the answer. thus, i had arrived in the baltics, more touristy than north-poland, by deduction, this specific train route at least.

a dutch woman on the platform, explaining what she is doing in mockava, lithuania to an australian, both older, though you could not tell from their voices, which is all i had to go on (i was staring at the a tri-colour waving from the station building). she explains, vilnius, riga, talinn, take the boat, and so on, slightly worrying me about my own originality, manages to loudly tell a story about how a BOMB was found (in the river near her house), to an audience of the whole train platform. she yelled the word three times in total, i told her you probably do not want to yell that on a train platform, which gave a confused response, somehow. getting the remote gauge-changing station evacuated, on account of accidental bomb threat, monumental bit to pull off. managed to break my dutch streak also, by explaining how to say something in dutch to the australian, swamp-terrorist. not the only incident, a couple with large bags also, extremely dutch-spoken, i smiled at them before, i regretted it after hearing the voice. they were discussing their spending on the holiday, in the middle of the holiday, looking at a phone screen analyzing individual transactions in a bank app. i hope the woman does not forget to send a tikkie, to equal the difference in her getting a smaller coffee than the man.

i spoke yesterday on the seat-reservation system with interrail. in lithuania, it is a bit funnier so far. the inter-city company, at least this one, only kind-of integrates with interrail. seat reservations are mandatory, always, included in the bought ticket itself. that does not work with the semi-open system for interrail, which cannot reserve seats for you. what you have to do is, buy a ticket, mark 'i have an interrail pass', which gives you a discount, and then a service-fee is added to count the actual seat reservation price. when the guy scanned my ticket however, he just saw green on his terminal and continued on, did not even ask for my interrail ticket. makes me believe there is a meta in lithuania where you buy train tickets for inter-cities by just saying you have an interrail ticket, getting a massive price cut.

i took the tram from the station, and even downloaded an application to pay the 70 euro-cent fare, but i could not figure out how to work it. i will ask somebody tommorow, or i will just ride them without paying, more soulful. what showed up was not actually a tram, but a seemingly regular bus, converted to run on the electricity grid, attached to the tram wires. saves buying and laying tracks, i suppose, but it was a funny sight at first. kaunas is the second largest town in the country. i am staying on a large main-street-esque place, very spacious, there are cars, but not Traffic. large through-park in the middle with benches. unfortunately for some people in the audience, i will be staying in kaunas for two days trying to not permanently injure my ankle, avoiding walking with the full bag all day. its a hostel rated 9.x stars or there-about, only three rooms, quite homey. an interesting woman, possibly autistic, or otherwise putting on a kind of childish act, no other words to describe it, was operating the front desk when i arrived, she made me something like 15 recommendations on a map, including a gallery i will go to tommorow. the rest, not so sure, on account of wanting to not actually walk for a bit.

i am in a hostel, so there are hostel sightings and encounters. one of the bathrooms has a lock which does not work, a latch in replacement, marked 'USE THIS' in red penning. it almost feels it was done on purpose, for the aesthetic value, a more quirk-y feel, the Hostel User loves these. an older english man is seen on the phone yapping to (presumably) his wife, explaining among others how he has knocked the price of (i think a flight) down from 90 quid to 60 quid, yes son, up the hammers, it sounded exactly how you imagine. he used 1000 points of something-or-another to achieve this. i sit in a couch and eat some nuts. despite my best efforts, i have slacked on eating more today. another man is sitting, though we do not exchange more than a hello. enter a plus-one, one of the people sleeping in my room i learned, grabbing a guitar off the wall, really, asking the room, mind if i practice?, he was actually practicing, not just saying that to impress when he started playing well. the hostel culture has a caricature, it is real, you just find it in pieces, scattered. the man had a travel guide, bound in the kind of paper covering you use in elementary schools, to protect the cover from the elements, if you remember. we talked a few times, here and there, no real conversation. he asked how tall i was, and i gave a canned response.

i left to get something to eat, and sat in the kitchen instead. meal salad and assorted fruits. the guitar-man and silent-man are now engaged in a conversation of some kind. eventually, i understand, i hear clearly, this not-so-silent-man is explaining ethereum smart contracts to the guitar-man. hope he does not catch a glimpse of the monero sticker on my thinkpad, i will have to be careful, though he might not even know what it is, judging by his explaination of what 'crypto can do for the world' to the peaceful guitar man. he used the word 'complicated' in multiple meanings at least 8 times, from what i heard. when i walked past, i noticed there is a full dekstop computer setup in the common seating area, which is a genuinely baffling addition to the hostel common area. there are cameras, of course, there are always cameras, but they opted for the non-obvious kind compared to the deterrent kind more common to these places. littered about the whole place are awards from hostel-world-dot-com and booking-dot-com for things like 'top 5 rated small hostels in the world', and 'best hostel in lithuania', which are categories, yes, they seem to revamp their design every year, almost all of them look somewhat different.

a turkish man, speaking little english, joins me in the kitchen. he has with him oysters and avocados, dinner. he begins cutting oysters, chipping bits off, comments he has to look for "the line". one of them, he struggles quite hard, it takes multiple minutes and implements to get the thing open, and when he manages it, "that one, shit". he cuts up his avocados, peppers each piece as he eats the previous. it seemed like a good dinner. i looked up what to do in the evening, there is an old movie theater two adresses down the street, sure, one english-spoken film with lithuanian subtitling that evening, named hamnet, supposedly a re-telling of hamlet(?). a newer hollywood film, sure, whatever. it was not very good, bad even, made worse by the main characters Acting prowess (crying, screaming, real emotional stuff) getting in the way of her speech being actually legible for half the screentime. there is one scene where she was just mumbling nothing-sounds, and i could see full sentences of text flashing by in lithuanian, envious of the missed writing. i left, wishing it had been done sooner, the Acting is too much. i need more chinese films, those work on me. on the way back, i wanted to cut through a little cafe area, the seats made a clear path in the pavement, but walked straight into a wire spun around chairs, making anybody wishing to use the street walk around, perplexing, and sure to cause at least some incidents with drunk tourists.

i walked two adresses and entered back. i should make a note on the location of this hostel, you walk into an alleyway opening to a courtyard. the courtyard looks like so, they give you a good view from the kitchen. a ways different from the main street it lies on, very inviting, to a person like me anyway.

09/05/2026 @ vilnius (lt)

note a one-day time skip, and a slightly better website layout. it should be more readable overall, open to feed-back-loop-backs, you know where to reach me. i sat inside all-of-all-day yesterday, doing nothing, i watched some tik-toks of schizophrenics, keep the competition in check, and spoke a bit with the man previously mentioned practicing the guitar. jonas from switzerland, it turns out, i gave him the link, the one you are on now. i convinced this subject to bite directly into a kiwi, with the skin on, one of two persons in the world now, both convinced from first bite, its not bad, i continue to evangelize. i spoke for a bit with one of the people working at the hostel, also, after asking if he minds giving the tour every time to every person. he explained, it is a small hostel, if i have to do it 12 times in one day, then yes, but a few times, no, there is no problem, fair enough. an "exchange of energies" was mentioned regarding the social aspects of being the worker person at a hostel, i understand what he meant. altogether, my main idea is that 'getting' the tour is rude, that i am rude for receiving the tour from a different human, one they have given so often, giving which is their job. it is rude to make the tour-man give the tour, as it is rude to allow the barrista to bring you your coffee. moving on, on my shabbath, nothing really happened. the ankle feels better, though it is swollen, which is probably not good.

also at the hostel was an interesting older english man, different one than before. he kind of stumbled about the place, speaking generally at the room, mostly to himself. he talked a solid 3 minutes at 4 different persons about not putting paper into the toilet, you cannot put paper into the toilet, "it clogs the toilet up, man"; a very out character american-ism of a quote. wonder what he was there for, one of many british, mostly scottish really, persons in the whole city. could not walk more than five minutes without hearing the accent rumble over the air. one scot at the hostel, when asked what brings a scot to kaunas, lithuania, answered, cheap flights, sixty euro return; the ryanair-special, fair enough. still confusing, the 'why' of british people. you can get cheap flights from anywhere to anywhere.

i left the hostel, it was lightly raining, the kind that more so creates a permanent mist you walk in-to, less so than falls down in-to-you. in the morning it was down-pouring, so not too bad. i did not open my umbrella the whole day. i walked through some more streets, they were nice, and found my way to a gallery to visit. not many people there, its not a going-out day, all the seats on every cafe, including the obligatory gallery-cafe, are over-turned, no expected use. one exhibition about the kaunas fur-coat industry, which is important to the history of fur-coat industries, it was not super interesting to an outsider. one exhibition featured works from a person doing something called aquatinting, i forget how it works, it involved using sound frequences, to create patterns on plexiglass. they had titles like 'Sound 786 Hz', the only thing i could think about is 434 hertz healing frequences 12 hour black screen cure cancer instantly youtube-originals, i was distracted, i liked them, but only the first 15 or so. next, some works from a georgian artist, 'memories of an old fireplace', as well as others. some of these pieces, really really good, very schizoid-coded, wall-scribbling nonsense text-spam, in the georgian alphabet. good work mariam shakarashvili, i love the idea, the general concept, of the georgian, in general. i must visit some time. i took some photos.. there was a room in this gallery, a permanent addition, dedicated to a man named george maciunas, instrumental figure of something called 'fluxus'. the view i could get of it told me it was a kind of design-house-art-space, all in short, a 'movement. they had some beautifully early-modern-minimal posters, stamps, promotionals, books. if you are ever in kaunas, please visit the kaunas picture gallery.

i continued up a hill, toward the larger museum in the town, which i realized at the top of this hill, it was steep, i am carrying my life, the legs are burning, it was the wrong street, im supposed to be one left. im not complaining. i find a slippery staircase with one of those bike-carrying slides at the side, a side without a hand-hold, making it very inviting probably, to just drive all the way down this slide, and a little scary probably, to push down in the rain, nothing extra to hold on to. near the base, i witness a man with one of those electric scooters begin to push it up the mentioned bike-gutter, hope he has no sisyphus moment with that thing, it would delay the food order of the village significantly. i pass by some modern-ist looking buildings, decaying, some graffiti, and randomly exit out into a plaza, starting with a round-terraced-seating area, littered with bright orange aperol-spritz-branded seating, bean bags, to be specific, by now completely soaked in the rain, from whatever event this was for, nothing worth being an attendant for, assured, not assured really, just my guess. the plaza area has some probably intentional features of a local skate-spot, many flowers, and even a cute meandering stream as water-feature. i needed to be one building over though. there was almost nobody on this plaza, not many people on the street. at the museum, finally, the person at the bag check spoke english, with a scottish accent. i asked where they are from, they said, from here, lithuania, and they were. this event makes me believe that yes, the city of kaunas, lithuania, and the people of scotland are somehow linked, so that the lithuanians are learning scottish-english, on account of the amount of scottish they deal with. the museum was ok, not much to say, it is a museum, i enjoyed my time, but started getting tired, chalked up to not eating much yet, and probably stopped paying that much attention.

i left back to a store, and picked up something to eat, no hummus, they had no hummus. it is cold today, but i still wanted to sit in at least one park, there is an island-park south of the main city, that sounded nice, i went there, the first sight over the bridge tells one: this is not a park. there is a massive glass building and car-parking in plain view. a sports-centre. okay. i sat on the first bench and left as soon as i could, disappointed in my own choice of park, my hands lightly freezing, espresso-time, it is, 2-euro-60 for a double espresso, it was ok. the man in front of me, when i went to get a second drink, was receiving a pink-round-large drink, 3 pm on a saturday, whatever, enjoy, i didnt feel like asking what he was drinking, it would have been rude, i really did want to find out. the bathroom in this coffee shop had a regular lock, the kind with a key, but the key was missing. i did not report this, not wanting to get involved. i was leaving for the station, anyway, good-bye kaunas, lithuania.

kaunas station has a platform one, where you can see a single track. hidden behind a building, out of sight, there is a different track. this is where my train to vilnius stopped, and i barely caught it after investigating, about 2 seconds to spare, the conductor person just saw me arrive as he helped a couple with a baby carriage up. i opted for the regional train instead of the express train, it stops more often, is a bit less nice, more chance of funny sightings, less tourists (i am sure the tourists will be on the express train, it does not stop between kaunas and vilnius). 30 minutes extra, many benefits. still, there was a french couple speaking on this train, near me, though they eventually got the message that the rest of the carriage was completely silent. it was a serene ride, i mostly slept, and found my way to vilnius, the capital of this nation-state. one night in vilnius, a hostel booked for 27.9X euros, rounded up to 28 euros at billing-time, but charged 26 euros only, for some reason. a 4-bed dorm bed, yes, except that they told me to go to room five, my key is in the room. for a dorm bed with the supposed price of 28 euros, i instead got a personal room for 26 euros. whatever, thanks. i opened up a cabinet and somebody has left their wireless earphones in here. i will probably take them with me, somebody else surely would, whoever owned them, will not come back for them. leave your thoughts in my email box, if you are earlier than 10 am tommorow they can influence my judgement. there is a schizophrenic painting in the room, view attached picture, it pairs well with the georgian works from earlier. a sign, a message, surely, cosmic communication?

i walked about the city a bit, figuring it would not be too busy on account of the weather, no, it is a touristy city, very noticable in the 'old town', as it always is. i walked for a time, saw some buildings, saw some people taking pictures, watched a woman stumble and nearly fall over into a gutter trying to look at a building, people were taking pictures of the building, i saw the building, and so i went home. i passed a store, but there is nothing to say there. now i get to at least sleep in a private room, i will speak on the city itself to-morrow. bai.

PS: i have been receiving advertisements for a website called 'dataannotation' in both english, within germany, and now in cyrillic, within lithuania. the first, advertising up to 100 eur per hour for freelance software work, the other, advertising something at 20 eur per hour, presumably the same work. the world economic stage. this did not fit in anywhere else, but i had to mention it, good to know they are wasting their money, actively, with this being Served at me.

10/05/2026 @ visaginas (lt)

i exit the hostel, and visit a lidl close by. it was a pretty large one, i bought some items, food, the like, and found some hummus, also. when trying to check out my three bags of mixed-nuts, 500kcal per 100g, one of them did not weigh enough, or weighed too much, to correctly allow me to continue scanning at the self checkout machine. i put a different one on the scale, and put the wrong-weighing variant to the side. not worth the effort. i left the store with everything i wanted, but only two packets of nuts. awful system, these weighing-self checkouts. takes about 3x as long as normal, high error rate, just let people steal, who cares.

i viewed some maps for a place to eat. if i continued generally north on the map, crossed a bridge, then north-east, i would enter a park, park of hills it was called, or something. it has a few hills, many trees, some deathly stairs, i learned by walking up with my ankle-thing ongoing, backpack carried. it felt good to do though, i mogged everybody else there, by making it more difficult for no reason. there is a monument of some crosses, a tourist hotspot, for those willing to climb a hill to visit it. it gives a very broad view of the vilnius old town. it is what it is, a view of the old town, but what it also is, a view of west-vilnius, when looking west, toward west-vilnius, overstocked with soviet-esque appartment blocks. i would go to west-vilnius once i get down from here, i decided then. i sat on a bench, facing away from the view, into a pretty gorge of trees. it had still rained in the night, so i put down a small towel to sit on, prepared-ness. in the gorge i took notice of some crows, and various small birds. i have noticed seeing many more cute, small birds of various types, colours in this part of europe. one specific bird i watched here was going tree-to-tree, looking in some holes, and moving to the next. it had some red on its neck or chest. not sure what it was doing, but it was fun to watch. there was a consistent stream of people arriving to the view, taking pictures of the same view, and then leaving. it never got overcrowded. one man was painting, with an ezel set-up, the view others came to photograph, i imagined he witnessed over a thousand people taking pictures while finishing his painting. i watched one woman arrive with a baby carriage, and then leave it in park, with the child inside, to go take a picture of the view, could have left it at the base, save yourself the trouble, no? enjoy this picture of a view, of the statue, view-from-statue not included.

eventually, i did leave the hill, down some stairs, passing at least one group of two persons, side-by-side on a two-person-wide stairway, looking at me as if i did something wrong, by stopping in place as they nearly walked straight into me. confusing. i walked along a river for a bit, found a cafe, two espressos, no real happenings, except the two girls working in this chain-coffee-cafe were having fun playing all kinds of just-about-corporate-friendly stuff over the speakers, the pokemon anime theme-song was included, and sung along with for about 15 percent of it. i watched many people enter this place, look at the display case of pastries for up to a minute, and then leave without even speaking. these occurences would pause the conversation had between the worker-friends, as they waited to take an order, any order, swiftly continued after leaving. kind of funny to watch. i left the cafe, happy to have been able to carry my espresso-carriages to-and-fro my own table, like i have talked about, it is rude to make the espresso-bringer bring the espresso, and took a trolley-bus toward the west of the city, in search of block-housing. the trolley-busses are like in kaunas, regular busses attached to live electrical wires above the road. these things are not fun to ride, it is just being in a bus, standing is completely uncomfortable. i watch locals stumble, clutch their hands at anything, despite riding these things every day, walking around in a bus that is about to brake, you simply cannot do it. all of them have two little flags waving, poking out the head of the whale, as horns, one the tricolour of lithuania, the other the star-circles of the europenian union. its a funny sight, made better by me either hallucinating or actually seeing exactly one bus that had the nato flag instead of the eu, and then not one more after that. i am 100 percent sure i saw the nato trolley-bus, but i have no evidence.

i arrived so, and took some pictures, probably confusing some of the locals walking there. i stopped at a small park-area, one of the kind in between many housing blocks, a shared space, to eat some fruits. some people passed, including an elderly woman, looking vaguely scared, on the way to the excercise equipment to do some calisthentics, and the like. i looked to find a larger store, found a lidl a little down the road, having to cross a pedestrian bridge to get there, not often seen, it was crooked, sloped, and rusting away at many places, a true hazard, but probably fine. i bought dinner items, as i did not think i would be passing another store that day. my next destination, on the advice of council, it was more like a joke, the town of visaginas: a soviet plan-town, located in the far north-east of lithuania, built to house the workers and constructors of a now shut-down nuclear plant, about ten kilometers east. for the journey, it is about 2h15 in the wrong direction, if you look up a map of rail in lithuania, this is a line that only connects back on it-self. tommorow, we will be backtracking, but that is funny in its own way. all the rail lines in the baltics sprawl out a bit, but do not connect back on themselves. the train system here is, overall, undeveloped, fine trains on themselves, but only a small number of them running wherever you are going per day, perhaps a handful of them per line, except for routes like kaunas-vilnius. in my case, i had a 17:46 train, the next would be at 21:xx or so, the previous was at 14:xx. probably makes getting from one side of the country to the next a severe timing problem.

i had an extra 45 minutes at the end, before my train, but after arriving at-station, and so walked about the station-surrounds for a while, noting many people smoking in a non-smoking area, one (presumably) chinese tourist had a packet of chinese cigarettes, i spotted. i wanted to ask him for one, a chinese cigarette, but was not sure how to go about it. missed opportunity, i will have to go there myself. no other real encounters. eventually, i paced the platform for a while, watching among others, parents waving out their children boarding different trains, confused people with suitcases, a school group, there is always a school group around. eventually, i boarded the by now pretty full train. the trains in lithuania, by virtue of not running very often per day, tend to arrive at the starting-station with a large window of time before actually leaving.

regarding this quirk of the lithuanian rail i mentioned, where you must 'buy' tickets to use in stead of the interrail pass itself, by marking that you have an interrail pass, the following: this has worked three times so far, i have a regular lithuanian rail ticket that is heavily discounted or free, because 'i have an interrail pass', yet the conductor does not ask for the interrail pass. however, you need to enter an interra identification code, its a 6 letter code, which is displayed under the ticket. it makes me curious if, when they scan this, it does a lookup of the pass to see if it is valid, though that sti would not guarantee you added the trip to the pass, which matters for limited-travel-day-inter-rail-passes. in short, i am autistic, and might experiment by mis-placing one of the letters in the pass, and seeing what happens when they scan it. otherwise, there is no way anybody in lithuania is actually paying for the trains, yes hello LTG-LINK train conductor, my interrail pass numer 'HEHEXD' makes discount one hundred percent thank you prayer-hands-emote fire-emote. adding to this, an elderly couple sat in front of me, the woman was carrying a bouquet of flowers, a romantic outing to the capital for them, i suppose. when the conductor scanned their tickets, bought with the 80% elderly discount offered, i was guessing, they were asked for their 'dokumenta', and produced their identification cards as proof. my 100% discount, this is all under the cards, liquid under bridges, back-room-dealings, but one must prove their exact age.

there is little to speak on during the ride. i would gamble that over 80 percent of the window-time i had was looking at young-pine plantations in various stages of grown-ness, from bushy half-metre saplings to in-progress of being cut down. its a specific kind of landscape, it looks almost well, good, healthy, unless you know what you are looking at, exactly, specifically. an grey-haired but young-in-spirit couple sit nearby. the man is chatting, reading some stuff, and generally performing actions, on his touch-screen laptop the whole ride. when their stop approaches, the man checks his hair in his telephone camera, the woman, toting a small mountain of shopping bags and a cow-print umbrella, pulls out a powder-mirror, the flip open kind, and starts re-applying some bits of make-up. you might be expecting them to be dressed more formal like, given that descriprion, but no, this woman is actually wearing platform sneakers. odd really. she did have a leopard print scarf, presumably, a real one, from the kaunas leopard-print-fur-industry, if you recall.

we arrived at visaginas, and the train nearly emptied, though it is not the terminal station for this line, it is the last place with more than 1000 residents this side of the latvian border. the whole congregation boarded either parked cars, waiting cars, or a conspicuously placed bus, presumably going directly to town. i had no intention of following, i was admiring the platform. please view video of the platform. places like this look magical to me, single-platform-staton, one track continuing straight ahead in either direction, flanked by dense forest. i stood and watched for a while, confusing at least one child on a bike who really must have wondered what i was doing there, the next train out of here is at 10 pm. the station building here was a temporary container building, it even has a coffee machine inside. there was nobody around really, after the bus left, one car idling on the road. i entered the walkway toward the town, the station is a ways-away from anywhere you could call 'the town', any building at all really, it would be about 2.5 kilometers in total to my resting place for the day. i have a small appartment to myself, highly rated, the cheapest in the town, still 40 euros, not that i mind. the walk took me through a paved wooded area, tall, mature trees covered head to toe in moss, ww2-era bomb craters (what it looked to me, anyway), beats any bus ride i have ever taken. i found my way to the appartment, passing exactly one person also walking along the whole way, it is quiet in this place, though it is also a sunday. i think lithuania is still a christian country, not sure. anyways, i ate dinner, aldi dinner and there is little else to say, i think.

11/05/2026 @ siauliai (lt)

this morning i woke up in my extremely done-up-airbnb-esque appartment, it included fake exposed brick, painted over with white, genuinely baffling, quite early in the day, i had forgotten to close even one blind. not that it matters, i half-slept some more until 8 or so. by 10 i was about leaving, dutifully leaving my door key in the airbnb key lockup thing, the same model everybody everywhere uses, a masterlock so and so, immediately recognizable and relatively easy to open without knowing the code, if you care to look that up, and dont care about looking sketchy standing in front of the thing for a few minutes with Tools.

the town of visaginas is very pretty, if you like towns like visaginas. it is littered all over with trees, half-broken pavements and streets, the same very old appartment blocks, newer appartment blocks, built in the old style, and there is an overflow of cars. everybody that lives here can only really go anywhere with a car, so it makes sense, if that is how you think about it. i looked very out of place, 11 am on a monday, old women going to the supermarket i passed, younger people, presumably unemployed, there is no work in visaginas, the same. i wonder how many visitors a town like this gets, really. cant be none, cant be very many. either way, in visaginas, you have a beautiful place, a cute town, nothing ever happens, and the people look at you strangely for being there, though i do recommend it if you are already in lithuania, the park forests around this part of the country are surely idyllic.

i may have woken up in the north-east of this country, but the plan for this day was straight-forward, it would involve back-tracking, mentioned yesterday, we take the 1 pm train back to vilnius, and leave to siauliai from there, arriving at some point in the early evening. i got to the station a bit early, sat on the platform, on the ground that is, not before being yell-talked-called-up-on by a slightly stressed looking young man with a child, not particularly lithuanian looking, more from around turkmenistan, the steppes, i could not understand what he said, but he held up a package of cigarettes, he meant to ask for a lighter, i produced it without saying a word, he responded 'thank you', probably figuring himself i could not understand him. at that point it was just us on the platform, i sat on the far left side and he went back toward the middle. slowly, people arrived, some carrying suitcases, others small backpacks, others yet nothing at all. a man and his presumed girl-friend arrived, where the man looked almost exactly like my good friend from vienna, dress a near match aswell, though he had on very colourful and gaudy, really, sneakers, confirming it is not the same man. eventually, i spot the lighter man from earlier, he is now with his presumed girl friend, and a child carriage along with it. they have some bags, they are going somewhere, and they end up in the same carriage as me, in my view. the man is very excited, in the 'excitable' sense of the word, about something. i think i watched him grab and put back a bag from the overhead at least 30 times in the whole train ride, probably much more, constantly getting something, putting something back, checking something. not much else was seen on the train ride, if i remember.

it should be noted that trains in lithuania actually sell out! today, i wanted to take a 5pm or so train from vilnius along to siaulai, but when i went to reserve my seat, it was about 3:15, i had just arrived to vilnius, this train was sold out. i got the 7pm or so train instead. when checking closer to departure, this one was also completely booked up (for online tickets anyway, it is possible there are tickets available only in station). something to keep in mind for travelling in lithuania, it is probably caused by the small number of trains running per-track-per-day.

in vilnius, i went to a lidl then, i had better eat something if i have multiple hours to wait before an evening train ride. i bought many fruits, some carrots, some bakery items, and had at least 3 incidents where the weighing scale on my self-checkout machine was just marking things wrong, causing the same young worker to come over, who thankfully saw the humor in this. i picked out a park a ways-away, but easy via bus from here, it had a lake. i made a good choice, please view image of said lake. i sat here watching birds and eating, some people passed by, one older man did a solid 4 laps of the lake, but avoided eye contact on each, a different man only lasted one, i watched him get walked by his massive labrador the whole way around, when not-covered by trees atleast. overall, solid 9/10 used vape battery dumping spot. i had a dream about that once, i threw a box of lithium ion batteries into a small stream, reason unknown, talk of batteries-in-water was at that time Fashion.

i saw a banner, on the way back to the station, it was on a small sports pitch of some kind, 'American International School of Vilnius', an png of a wolf head (iirc), 'Join The Wolves', completely unsure as to what that is about. thats about all i wrote down that day, i was a bit distracted. i entered my cariage towards siauliai, and away we went. in front of me, in this 4-seat train arrangement, a younger woman using the tele-phone, an middle-aged woman walking on crutches, mostly sleeping or using the phone, and nobody beside me, on this sold-out train, which is a lucky pull, really. personally, i read for a bit, looked at some of the semi-pretty sights, slept for a bit, and then noticed something kind of funny. the woman in front of me, after using the phone for about 1h30 straight, pulls out a pristine copy of a book, hard-cover, even, and cracks it open to page One. you just hate to see that. page One in public, that is embarassing, especially after using the phone for multiple hours. this is not a hateful statement, more so one of respect, at least shes trying, she had a hope that day, it ended after about 20 minutes. ah well.

i have arrived to this siauliai place late in the day, and i am sleeping in a 14 euro hostel, which i learned upon arriving is almost three kilometers from station. not good for the ankle, but, i made it to this slightly strange neighbourhood, this is the park hostel, next to a park, it is a house, the owner does not speak any english, he showed me kitchen, shower, my room, three beds, one other occupied, a mostly-naked middle-aged man, he gets up halfway, woken up by this. the man started getting dressed soon after, going out to do something, which i gathered was collecting bottles, for the change you get back by turning them in. he had the classic getup, some gloves, a bunch of plastic bags for carrying bottles, one bag already rattling with a few. respectable hustle. by the time i got situated to write this text, i could see him leaving from a window in the kitchen. although, this is undoubtedly a night for sleeping with all my valuables, in the bed, maybe inside the head cushion. healthy paranoia, for a 14 euro hostel in lithuania. i am a bit tired, and not sure what else to put down here. i enjoyed visaginas, but maybe a bit too much travel today, in one day.

12/05/2026 @ klaipeda (lt)

in morrow, i heard first, later, watched, a steady stream of people leaving the hostel, stopping by the watering hole, a tap in the kitchen. this is more a cheap accomodation for working people than it is a Traveller Backpacker Fun Social Hostel, obviously, makes you feel out of place, you do not belong there. the term Backpacker is, to me, a negative sentiment, an indictment, do not lump me in with them, i am one of the Good Ones. on the table is a bottle labelled Power Hob Cream, a cleaning product, for stove-tops, that must have been bought in greater-brittain, and then ended up in, silauliai, lithuania. Hob is a word for stove that can not be used anywhere else, not enough for this label to work as on-shelf-advertising, assured. last evening, the host-man asked to be paid 14 euros in cash, i did not actually have any cash on me, we agreed tommorow, maybe i am one of the Not Good Ones, not reading payment conditions, really paying any attention at all to what i am agreeing to. after shower (surprisingly nice bathroom), some coffee (instant), i left to find a bank and then buy something for breakfast from a chain store, much to the un-amusement of the store clerk, having to break my note for an 350 eurocent purchase. you only do that to large chain stores, though, so it does not matter. i encountered many street-side stores with hand-written signage, broken sidewalks, generally decaying buildings, much closer to what 'lithuania' sounds like in my own head. siauliai has a tourism industry, it is a relatively large city within lithuania, when walking here from the station, one passes an extremely fake-feeling 'nice' main street, complete with rgb-alighted fountains, far too many street lamps, and a general ban on smoking in the whole street, as far as i could tell from the signs placed every 10 foot-lengths. next to a few buildings is a digital sign, an interactive tourist information sign, reading, 'Visit Siauliai', which is not an imperative, you are already there, that is probably the name of the siauliai tourism board. this is the part of the city they want you to be, where i was staying, they do not want you to go there. lithuania still is, i think, consider-able as a developing nation, what you see here, away from vilnius and kaunas, reminds me more of kosovo, it is being invested in, but the contrast between the real and the tourist-build is obvious.

at the smoking area of this hostel, that being a starcase up the back entrance of this house, is one of those cigarette-out-putting towers, it is halfway filled with regular trash, and looks like nobody actually uses it for cigarettes. next to this is a rusted plant pot, used instead for cigarettes, presumably this feels closer to home for the residents, rather than using an public-feeling standing tool. there was one younger lad in double tracksuit i watched, both last evening and this morning, leave the back door to smoke at least 10 times, which extrapolates into likely healthy amount of smoke. cigarettes go as low as 5 euros per pack here, although regular groceries seem to have regular to above-regular pricing. if a Good cigarette and an espresso is a french breakfast, a 5 cent cigarette and instant coffee is the economical lithuanian his break-fast. i think out of everybody i saw in the kitchen that morning, exactly one ate some cheese with eggs, the others opted for water, coffee, and tobacco.

when packing, i gathered that the bottle-collecting man who was in the room previous had fully left, no bags remained, meaning i had probably slept alone. he is more drifter-maxxed than i am, a fly-by-night figure. the whole place felt vaguely uneasy, but it was really pretty good for the price. i stayed until about 12, i could not find the host-man, so the agreed price was left on a table, informed so via booking-dot-com private message, the reply: <Ок. my guess is that this man has mimed an 'Ok' out of the characters available on his cyrillic phone keyboard. he is probably ukrainian, judging by the wifi password being something around 'LavaUkraina2025!'. i have noticed a lot of ukrainian-sentiment in lithuania so far. near the lake i sat yesterday was a burial site, a memorial, not sure who to, though it was labelled, with ukrainian flags wrapped around the trees behind it. generally, you will just see the flags everywhere, stores, buildings, a man standing outside the grocery store draped in one.

outside of the park hostel, my one-night residence, is indeed a park, where i would then sit to eat. the second i stepped outside, it started raining a little, and then stopped. i found a bench, ate, eventually it started raining more, harder, and i had to quickly put the rain-shield on my bag and start leaving. a man walked past, asked where i am going in a hurry, are you travelling, where you from, first in lithuanian, of course, i said yes, explained a little, he said 'good shit', shook my hand and hurried along. i too started making my way out of the park, looking for shelter, but by this point it had again stopped raining, annoying. i walked toward the previously mentioned tourist street and entered the first cafe, one location of a chain just called CAFFEINE. its not very good coffee, unfortunately, but they did have outlets to charge my phone, which i neglected overnight, on account of leaving it in the pillowcase. i sat in one of these bar-tables, facing a wall and a window. a girl was sitting also, copy-drawing something onto paper from a tablet screen, a kind of practice, i guess. the music, not very good, what you expect from the place as described. i watched from the window, it had started and kept raining, making me not want to venture out. adding to that, i desperately need to figure something out for the ankle. after my evening 3 kilo-meter lug, i noticed it was looking and feeling quite bad. maybe then, sit inside today, and the day next, mostly not carrying weight, this would not happen.

i got bored of sitting in the cafe after a while, and would venture to a small lake nearby instead. i passed a large open area, a square without purpose or joy, existing only to exist. a large flag-pole shows star-rounded-banner of the european union, claiming responsibility for putting the Place here. next to there, a church with a funny looking washed-out banner depicting the big-mans-son,. there were wood-carved crosses of an almost totemic build, which somehow feels very baltic, wood-totem-carvings and the baltic states are linked, mentally, for me, not sure why. the lake had a monument nearby, a kind of pillar, gold statue on top, and a very interesting looking cemetery, with small mausoleums built into hillsides, old, overgrown graves, and many freshly layed flowers. it looked cool, but i did not walk inside. visiting cemeteries as tourist-attraction is not consciable. i sat by the lake, observing some people, who observed back. one man passed by three times, the walking type. there was a statue, the intentionally-patchworked kind, some sort of animal, made out of metal. apparantly, the metal is iron, the animal is a fox. the iron fox, they call it. okay. i ate some fruits, and eventually left for a laundromat, might aswell do something kind-of useful for a while, my train away is at 8. the laundromat is near a shopping complex, decisively in motor-vehicle-space. i passed by a sub-urb, and caught glimpse of the premier kick-back spot in all of siauliai, lithuania, view image. i can picture the Leader of the group sat in the desk chair, Leading insightful discussions, conversations, in this place. a young man passed on bike, giving a demonstration of the dopplereffekt by way of lithuanian rap-music. these type of sub-urbs have been common sightings since poland: recessed down a hill, next to a large road, mostly un-paved, with cottage houses, trailers, and generally a low-income atmosphere. i have seen a few of these where every house was very clean, neat gardening, the like, 'tiny homes', i think they are called. the trailer park, commodified, sold-as-experience.

at the laundromat, no encounters, i washed my clothes and probably did irreperable damage drying them, an extra cost of this vacation will maybe be buying different t-shirts. i could try some second hand stores along the way. i did walk into the shopping mall itself, it was a boring one, labyrinthian construction as far as making your way out, and surprisingly busy with teenagers just Hanging Out after school. subsequently, i left the area, visited a lidl and a pharmacy (ibuprofen, also disinfectant, i forgot to bring it), just missed the bus toward the station, and decided to walk 30 minutes instead of wait-plus-ride for 50 minutes. i have been using the bindings for storing sleeping bags and the like on my backpack to mount 2 liter water bottles in, it works well, and distributes more weight to the hip rather than my shoulders, when carrying. i am still curious how much i am actually lugging about each day, not thaf it matters, i have to do so anyway.

i reached the station, ate a bit, drank a machine-coffee (it was not bad, though i always wish they come out warmer), and made the whole station uncomfortable with my cool sweater. one person, with a military backpack, stood 7 paces back from me at about 8-o-clock, holding Watch. every time i lightly turned or glanced, he was staring straight at me, i imagine, picturing himself receiving a medal one week or so from now, for acts of bravery during the events at t+30 from the now. no such luck for him. i stared back for a bit, he did not last more than 15 seconds. there goes your purple heart. on the actual platform, i saw a funny sighting, a group of indian men with suitcases, not noteworthy except that i recalled seeing one of these, wearing a blue button up, in the hostel kitchen that morning. i do not know if he saw me, they seemed confused about what platform to be on. most of the platforms in this country allow you to walk across to the next, with no safeguards except your own wit to look both ways. aswell, when a train arrives, this makes it so that you might have to go a long way around, or not be able to cross at all. not very scalable, though this station did also have a rusted pedestrian bridge nobody uses. i arrived at my place without incident for the rest. we have two nights in klaipeda, a major coastal city of lithuania, two nights because, after the second night, i will be waking up early to take a 7 am train and make my way to latvia, so it is more like one night. we will see how that goes.

i have some fan mail to catch up on. i have read these as they came in but neglected to attach, maybe the next rest day i take i could figure out a readable way to attach these. additionally, i received real-life-fan-mail, a letter from the belgian tax-man, which i will not be responding to, i have nothing to say. view fan-mail here.

13/05/2026 @ klaipeda (lt)

this morning, i slept in until about 10 am by accident. oh well. i think i am behind many days on sleep, which is fine. i have a whole day in klaipeda today, an early wake tommorow. i get ready, eat some nuts, unsure what i will actually spend the day doing. i might be eating too many mixed nuts as meals, but it is simply too convenient and fun to eat. i lazed about for a bit, and eventually left at maybe 12, intending to walk and stop by a grocer. i did walk, passed some parks, and noticed the whole old town resembled much more the north german cities i came to love than the rest of lithuania. we are back in teuton-space. not very touristy here either, or maybe i just did not end up inside the tourist-containment-zones, all the merrier. klaipeda is better known by the german name, memel. some of the old town roads have extremely large cobblestones for both road and sidewalk, nearly impossible to walk on, and dangerous to a person already hurting in the ankle.

i passed a store, and started making my way back home to eat some more. it was not very good weather, a light rain here and there, a bit cold overall. i was not meant to enter back home however, just a few streets before, i made an encounter. two men, completely obliterated, faking dwunk, so to speak, talking to just about anybody that walked past, everybody ignoring them. i was seen, something was shouted, in either lithuanian or russian, and i aproached. the man speaking to me did not know very good english, but we managed. he talked to me about something regarding a bar, they were kicked out, by ukrainians, they come here, they tell me, we dont like prosseco, we dont like oysters. the second is holding a bottle of chardonnay, half drank, and they ask, together, 'where is prosseco, where is prosseco?' the man really liked oysters. he kept talking about oysters. he wanted to eat oysters, the ukrainians, they do not like oysters. do i like oysters? not particularly. his pronounciation did not sound like "oyster" at all. i asked some probing questions to be sure he was talking about oysters, like rocks, from the sea? yes? it seemed correct, he made a gesture of cracking something and drinking from it. he just really liked oysters.

i did not have anything better to do, so when proposed about coming with them, we will go eat oysters, things of that nature, i followed along, i had made some new friends. the situation was as so: the younger, more talkative, the oyster man, slightly more english-able, was of spanish descent, living here in klaipeda. he spoke russian to the other, a russian man, born to a russian family living in klaipeda. the oyster-man is young, maybe 22, the russian man, about 35, possibly 40, hard to say. i could not pry how they knew one another. the conversation swung back to the ukrainians, prosecco, where is prosseco, and the russian-man produced from his hoodie-front-pocket, you know the type, a bottle of champagne. he kept showing it, at least 20 times in total. they do not like joking, we are just joking about, prosecco, oysters, you know. i did not exactly know what they meant. they seemed to appreciate that i listened to them, most of the people harassed on the street had somewhere to exist, or no interest in oysters.

we entered a restaurant, and sat down. people are looking as this man is loudly speaking, clearly completely annihilated at 2 pm in the midday, inside of this restaurant. i found it hard to contain my smile. i am a part of this group now. the oyster-man takes the lead, addressing the waiter about oysters, 20 oysters in fact, we need 20 oysters, a bottle of white wine. i managed one video of this encounter, view attachment, it is required. the girl taking the order looked a bit horrified, returned shortly with the information, there will be no oysters, as well as 4 other members of staff, including a large-build tall man. they argue in lithuanian or russian for a time, not really argue, just talking really, and eventually seem to be asked to leave. i take the lead in this, and smilingly bid them farewell in english. we have been kicked out of one restaurant so far, not let down, we continue further down the street, into a new one. a similar situation, though this time we did not have time to get seated before being asked to leave. it is hard to understate how loud and slurred the oyster-man is talking. throughout this whole affair, they are taking swigs of the chardonnay, i have to refuse sips continually. at one point, they talk for a bit amongst themselves, and then ask me, the russian culture, my friend he thinks, maybe you do not like the russian culture? i explain no, i am having fun, i enjoy the russian culture, clearing up the confusion. passing a park, they explain (approximate), 'life, life is only once. many people, they go through life, big cars, prosecco, all of this. but life is once, we enjoy it, in our culture, we enjoy life. life is once.' following this, drunken shouting at the sky, a warm moment really. i knew what they were talking about. after this, a coffee place, where the oyster-man asked the barrista about oysters, and i believe generally harassed her for a while about something or the other, the door was pointed, the girl turned her back, and started steaming some milk, off we went. off me and the russian went anyway, the oyster man stayed inside for a solid 5 minutes while i spoke with the russian, difficult going, though he was a gregarious man. i cannot remember exactly what about, nor did i really figure out what the other was doing inside after he returned. we continue on, more conversation about oysters, life, prosseco, prosseco, where is prosseco, ukrainians.

we are crossing a bridge, this is exactly one street from where i am staying. an older man, also drunk, possibly, able to handle it better if so, is encountered, and the three russian-speakers get into a russian conversation for a time. the man is wearing a pink knit sweater, which seemed funny at the time. he had small wounds on his bald head, i could not figure out what this character exactly was. in the middle of this conversation, the oyster-man starts following a girl who walks past, clearly uninterested. he walks beside her along the length of the bridge, speaking at her, i am watching this from the bridge, continues further along the street, before she enters a coffee shop, at which point he returns. he was very plainly harassing this woman, and i almost considered leaving it there, but i had nothing better to do, and eventually continued along north-bound, out of the old town. the oyster man turned to me at some point, and started asking about my hat, he was trying to get me to take it off, explaining, 'you are very beautiful, sorry, but, this . . . no . . . off this . . . rockstar, you know? metallica.' i agreed, yes, metallica, but i like it like this, i did not wash my hair, i do not wash my hair!, he argued back. the russian man agreed, rockstar, metallica, you like metallica? i was unconvinced, i know my own style. another sip of chardonnay was offered.

more conversation about oysters ensued, and we walked about for a time. the two men argued among themselves for close to 10 minutes while we walked, i could not figure out what about, but i figured they were figuring out where they could go. they seemed very familiar with the area and different businesses. we entered a hotel lobby, quite a nice hotel, a hotel bar, to be exact, the next part in this adventure. i waited outside for a second, expecting this to be another situation where the party is unwelcome, and slightly more prone to 'removal' than simply being told to leave. however, i was waved in, the two men had already ordered some beers, i had an espresso. there was more conversation, i cannot remember what about, oysters were surely mentioned. eventually it is decided, they wanted to sleep, the oyster-man could not go home, it was explained by miming a beating, for being in his state, i suppose. they wanted to sleep, but also prostitutes. we buy prostitutes, they told me, which i was not interested in. why not, you have girlfriend? i do not have a girlfriend, but i am also not interested in the offer. i have girlfriend, so why not? i was a bit confused at some point as to exactly what he was proposing, his friend showed me a google translate page on his phone, russian-to-english, reading 'he says he wants you to fuck prostitutes with him.' the man kind of threw his hands in the air, exclaiming it to be not his words.

on this topic, the oyster-man seemed to explain he needed my help in getting sleeping arrangements. it was nearly impossible to figure out exactly what he needed from me. you must remember this man did not speak english, really, specific instructions or intents were not in the common vocabulary here. i was handed a phone, he had about 12 percent battery remaing, 50 missed calls and messages, and a safari application with more than 20 open booking-dot-com tabs. this made me even more confused. i navigated to the hotel we were currently at, he had explained he wanted to rent a hotel room here, but he could not, they would not allow him, he is too drunk. i tried to get him to fill in his information, but he did not seem to want to. i gathered by intuition that what they needed from me is to book a hotel room under my name, for them to stay in, which i am obviously not doing. i asked if he had an id card or something, we can just go to the lobby and i can do the talking, he says his name, maybe they dont ask for id. they said, we have money, but, you know, we are bad people you know. the institutions, we are outside. we are bad people, but good people. we pay, we have money. i did my best to prod further at this, but got nowhere. neither of them had id cards, they proposed, we can send you money, you get room. i convinced the oyster-man to come to the lobby with me.

at the lobby, a girl is holding two corded phones, navigating a phone call. it takes a few minutes, i walk about the lobby for a bit. there are conference rooms, and an almost suspicious lack of seating for the space. the phone calls finish, and i adress the lobby woman. i explain, my new friend here, he needs a hotel room. she takes a good look, looks back at me, and says, 'No', a short pause, 'I remember you. No.', and starts picking up a phone, presumably in case removal is required. the tone this woman spoke, knowing, accusatory, hard to understate. i will never forget this moment. sensing the general situation, i motioned my oyster-friend to join me back in the bar. he seemed defeated, i could not help them with whatever it was exactly they wanted from, and they bid me to leave, to go home. i said goodbyes, wished them luck, handshakes, and left, feeling up my pockets quickly in the event that I was the victim of the most elaborate pickpocket scheme of all time, but no, it was more interesting than that.

happy with the encounter, i make my way back toward the appartment, looking to eat. stopping by a bridge, previously mentioned, the oyster-man harassed a woman here, i looked at the water for a bit. suddenly, approached by two young men in raincoats. one asked something in lithuanian, i approached some more, do you speak english, and an american accent greets me back, "oh, you speak english?" i noticed they are wearing nameplates, in lithuanian, but one of them says 'xyz Smith'. mormons! in lithuania! encounters! i engaged them in conversation about missionary work, how they come to be in lithuania, within the Baltic Mission. random selection, by way of a higher-up in the church praying on your destiny, after requesting to join the missionary work overseas. some conversation about general christian theology, i like revelations, i know about noah, so on. with the example of my good friend from brighton, i explained that i believe religion can be a force for good if channeled correctly, if it makes you a better person, then why not. in this conversation, mainly with Elder Freestone, a title and a last name, first name was carter, i learned that the book of mormon describes the arrival of jerusalemite refugees to the americas in 600bce, and begins from there, through the first coming of christ, to 400ce. i had them clarify, this not allegorical, it is a historical statement.

i know some things about mormon theology, but this i did not know, and i exclaimed, i should read the book of mormon, this sounds interesting. lo-and-behold, the magic words were spoken, and from a messenger bag is produced an english copy of The Book of Mormon - Another Testament of Jesus Christ. they carried mostly lithuanian copies, but had two english ones on hand. they were nice people, carter and amon, the former being about 3 months away from finishing his 2 year mission, the latter only having arrived in the past 2 months, still learning lithuanian. it is a very different world, where they come from. when i was asking general questions about the structure of the church, they kept repeating the phrase about 'a calling', which in this case means a kind of position one holds in the church, a task-executor. they call this a 'calling', and would use the word to describe other things within the church, as in 'well, it is like a calling, but [...]', as if that means anything to somebody that did not grow up inside the church. did you know that the head of the church of latter day saints is called the Prophet, with a council of twelve Apostles directly underneath, i found this very funny. at some point in this conversation, after being handed the book, a young girl with piercings appeared out of nowhere, to interject, 'sorry, i just wanted to say, your hair looks cool.' thank you, random alt-girl in klaipeda, i do my best.

i will be reading the book of mormon, my main curiosity is how they reconcile the alt-history proposed, as well as how word of jesus christ would reach the people of the americas 1000 years before columbus. i will let you know when i find out, maybe we can start a theology blog alongside the travel side. we talked some more on other topics, and eventually i bid them good luck and farewell. arriving home, happy about my encounters for the day, deciding to just eat and rest the ankle some more. there is a train at 7 am waiting for me tommorow, and it is already half-one at the time of finishing writing this, so that will probably not be a fun journey. i reckon i will just pack my bag as much as i can in case i need to half-hurriedly leave after oversleeping. that is all for now. i forgot to actually include the fanmails in the last post, this will be a fix for tommorow, there is no time now. my bad.

14/05/2026 @ riga (lv)

yester evening i slept like 4 hours. i heard the alarm, and got up, as you do, when the train leaves at the time the train leaves. i managed it, slightly had to hurry in the morning, though i did have time to eat. the journey, two legs, first back to siauliai, then to riga from there, a 20 minute swap-over, three hours in total. i read some more on the train, not the book of mormon yet, i put it in the backpack, slept a little bit, but mostly felt wide awake for the little sleep i had. eventually, a young man occupied the empty seat next to me. you will remember, these lithuanian trains have assigned seating, you must sit in the one assigned. i dont know how true that is, but people follow it faithfully here. he spend his time intensely staring at the phone, playing what i know to be bloons tower defence. when i had to ask him to get up, to use the bathroom, he was in the middle of a round. i would have waited, but i was not sure if that thing even pauses. when i got back, he was just scrolling tik toks, eating chocolate mnms, the kind from the brown bag. maybe he has a nut allergy. i note, his eyes were wide open, fixated. he seemed to hide his phone, tilting it away from me in shame of being on tiktok. getting off the first train, i noticed a middle aged woman wearing a small pink backpack holding a dog cage. generally dressed like a teenager with zero swag. i stepped away from the station to buy some water, and on returning watched this woman kneeling on the ground with the dog cage, speaking to a hi-vis-wearer. i have no idea what this could have been about. eventually, they broke it up, and i went and boarded the train.

there was a russian-speaking woman in the same row as me, a 4 seater situation, two sleepy persons in the others. i hand-motioned that one of the two is my seat, and she gets up. i ask, which seat do you prefer. she seemed shocked, confused, offended at the question, somehow. she preferred the window seat, and she took the window seat. i just wanted to read. its easier this way, you can just up when you like. nothing much interesting occured, a family of three boarded at one of the intermediate stations, what i guessed was a mom-sister-brother tri-stack, though i dont know. they were very blonde, anyway. the lad was filming out of the window a bunch. he seemed to enjoy the train-scapes, that being mostly flat fields, forests, the like. in jelgava station, however, one of the larger stops in latvia of this train route, i got to witness a large scrapyard half-hidden behind a severely rusted solid wall fence, not rusted on purpose, this was just rotting. there were small mountains of what looked like crushed up cars, other metal of various types, peeking out 2/3rds above the fence. collecting it just to own it, i guess. on one of the tracks was a massive column of liquid or gas tanker-carriages, as far as the eye could see it continued. i saw many of these in lithuania, many freight-columns in general, just sitting in the open at passenger stations.

we arrived in riga. the exit of the central station is pretty. the whole new-town, the city centre, north of the old town, is pretty. the station here required me to pay 60 eurocents for the bathroom, a weird number to ask for, and i did not feel like paying it. i would figure it out. i left for a store, lunch, coffee, perhaps, it is about 11 am at this point and i have many hours of lugging my backpack before being able to deposit it. i navigate to a coffee shop first, rude barrista. no place to sit, i asked an older woman in a booth if i could join her for a minute. she was fine with this. in front of her, a tall sweet looking tall iced coffee, with her hands, playing some kind of mobile game, which i thought was funny. young spirit. hop on roblox. i had a coffee and looked at the maps for a bit. there is a big museum not far, many parks, and a shopping centre nearby. shopping centres are good for free bathrooms. i have never paid one eurocent in one of those. i got to the shopping centre. i walked around for a bit, went up one set of stairs. the information board told me, the bathrooms are on the 7th floor. okay. there are elevators, and about 20 people queuing to use them. okay. there are escalators, but spread around the building so that you end up walking around Obstacles to reach the next floor every time. okay. i use the regular stairs. not a good idea really. we did make it, though my ankle was now hurting again.

i visited the store, some croissants, a kind of poke-bowl-thing, with soy sauce and salmon, rare find after lithuania and poland. these kind of grocery-store-meals do not seem to be in vogue over there. i returned to a park i walked by earlier, it had looked nice, and i sat myself at a fountain depicting toga-clad figures playing instruments. atop, a circular area where the birds sit and view the surroundings. a big bird bath, really. the basin, exactly one male and one female duck, they are married, probably. the male kept his distance, sitting on the ledge mainly, interrupted once by a child, he flew into the water hastily. an older man with a small bag was feeding the ducks, individually, a piece of broken up bread, it looked like, one at a time. he seemed to be looking around and doing this covertly, trying to not be seen, most likely it is not allowed. a girl sat on the bench next, and was soon joined by another. probably had not seen each other in a while, from a corner of my left eye i could observe one jumping in the air slightly, a few times over. i was in the shade, not as warm as it should be. i found a different park to sit, the sun, and now i was too hot after walking. i read for a bit more, waiting out the check-in time for my Backpacker Hostel booking, it was the cheapest available, and looked horrific from the marketing. i walked the old town before going there, it was on the way. the old town is boring. it is what you expect to see. there is nothing there, gutted, stripped, soul-less.

the 'naughty squirrel backpacker hostel', yes really, you push a button to call the reception, and are greeted by an english woman. you enter the stairs. you enter the lobby, next to a kitchen, a man is cooking about a kilo of chicken, the whole room seems filled with steam. checking in are you, yes, i will need your passport then, yes. here is your keycard and the non-walking mental tour, there is a free table-football table! and a kitchen! wow. the wifi password is ShotOClock. if you follow us on instagram you get a free shot. we are a licensed bar, please do not bring in any outside alcohol. the beers were not even cheap. whats the point of it all. we are having a fun quiz this evening! ok. a strip of condoms on the wall is labelled, 'free condoms', ok. there are more hostel-world-dot-com awards all over the place. inexplicably, there at least 5 different posters advertising a group trip to a gun range. you can shoot ak-47s! its a loophole, the british woman explained, you can just do that here in latvia, so people like doing it. one chalk board in the lobby explains what guns you can shoot every day. they do this every day, i guess, what? they have old-school non nfc keycards. you have to physically slot it into a lock with the correct combination of yew-pitch-roll. maybe kaczynski was wrong. maybe we need more technics. we need more progress. the noble savage could have his life enhanced by nfc readers and keycard access points. maybe. after the tenth time opening one of the keycard doors, it was really getting on my nerves. just give me a physical key at this point. join the whatsapp group please, in case you need information, too far.

the room itself seems fine. i will be sleeping with my electronics in my bed. maybe put the whole bag in there. the beds in the dorms are not numbered, they have names. cannot remember what my bed-name is, spatial-location will do. i charged my phone for a bit in a set of couches, a common room. one man is calling on the phone, first in english, then in some other language i could not parse. he was told to call, hello, hello, hello, can you hear me? whatever. one group arrives, get the same tour, more interested than me. target audience. another group arrives, they did not have a booking, they just came from a hotel, 'there was nothing there', so they came here. target audience. i still cannot parse that they want you, really want you, yes you, to come shoot guns with random strangers that like going to hostels. people enter the common room, say hello, note i am not interested at that point in speaking to them, and left. the man calling did remain. in front of me was a sticker-bombed wall, it would appear to an unassuming eye. but, i looked, and i assumed: this is a fake sticker bombed wall. completely unnatural spread. collection of fifty times distilled-filtered facebook tier posting into a 1000-count sticker pack arranged here in front of me. god is dead, he was killed at the hostel gun-range event, and we do not yet know what that means. i read the introduction chapters to the book of mormon. it only contained things i already knew about, being the story about golden plates being dug from the ground on mystical instruction from an angel-spirit-ghost-figure, that being the compounder of the tomes. when i reached the first-book-of-the-book-of-mormon, i left to visit the museum. i figured out how to use the trams, only eight euros for a 3 day ticket. speaking of which, two nights in riga, not one. felt appropriate, do not lynch me about it.

they have real trams here, in addition to the bus-trams and regular busses. the real trams feel Old and Slow. theres been about 4 different varieties i have been in so far, ranging from ancient steel cabins with rusted creaky seats to more modern ones. i have seen tram drivers stop for pedestrians on crossings. it is probably faster to walk, if-only ones ankle does not hurt, and only-if one is an expert jay-walker like me. the museum was not very crowded. it is encased in a massive historical building with an ornate staircase. a good building. they had carpet in the middle of it, which i avoided stepping on, using the sides of the stairs instead. it was rude to walk on the carpet, somehow. the museum houses art ranging from the 1700s to the 1990s. i enjoyed the expressionist paintings. i took some pictures, they are pictured, probably, not decided yet. recommend the museum if you are in riga, though that is probably pointless. i spent almost two hours in the museum, and it felt too late now to also go to a gallery, they would be closing in less than an hour. a store then, i went to the same shopping-mall-grocer as before, and bought a similar meal, intending to make my way around to north of city center. i saw a large cemetery on the map, a historical one, it looked interesting. on walking there, some events.

i first intended to take a tram for part of it, but took a wrong turn, and now it felt further to get back to a tram station than just continue on north. i found a copper-peaked-red-brick church, which was good to see, i had been missing those in the rest of the city. i went to use a public bathroom, but i watched a man walk out and make a wet trail along the concrete with his shoes. there was no trail of entry. no thanks. i walked into some random alleys, and found some beautiful decaying houses just like in the lithuanian cities, always just behind the restored facades. i took some pictures of some graffiti, followed it, and ended up in a positively soulful alleyway, covered, wall-to-wall. the whole north-north of the city is good. old appartment blocks, worn streets and sidewalks. on some of the older appartment buildings, there were proper roof-exit-huts from a staircase, onto a flat roof. i started trying doorhandles, hoping one of them was just open, but no such luck, it would have been too perfect a place to eat my meal-salad-thing. my way to this cemetery from my de-tour led me to a small strip-mall esque place. it was marked as having a bathroom on the mappings. half the stores were already closed. through two internal alleyways, i ended up in the funniest bathroom of all time. please view video, much to analyze in every frame. moving on, without further incident i reached the cemetery, and walked about there for a while.

i was internally debating wether eating inside a historical cemetery-turned-park is disrespectful or not. it did not matter anyway. i had left my fork at the hostel. misery. an older woman said something to me, she spoke no english, so no conversation happened. when i was just about to leave, i saw a man with a dog, walking, training it, but in a particular way. i looked at him for a second, and i had to ask, what exactly was this technique. he was kind of walking behind the dog, he was halfway in between his legs, looking agitated. he explained: it is a farm dog, from the country-side as he said it, one year old, they have problems of under-socializaton (kaczynski mentioned). when i observed the dog, he did indeed seem generally stressed out. he would kind of step back at the smallest noise, hold a fixed gaze on anything passing. it would stand at the owners leg, in a kind of protective position, Holding Watch, but be completely terrified. a teeth-clattering swiss-guard. it seemed kind of sad. he picked it up and put it near me, it quite literally scurried away as fast as it could, kicking a hole into the wet dirt. eventually he sat down next to me, and explained further, holding the dog in his arms for a while. 'when you take care of a dog, you choose the challenge. you give fifty percent of your life, but it gives you fifty percent of its life.' it did really seem connected to this man, but scared, anxious, of the whole wide world. he loved this cemetery, it was relatively calm. he would run with the dog as hard as he could, this way it only focusses on running and following him, and not anything else, he can be happy, not scared for reasons it cannot understand. i watched this for a bit, and it was true. it touched me a bit. nice guy. a stroller went past, and the dog whimpered in fear.

i returned back via tram, it was a very convenient route, but this is where we will be leaving the day for today. i had some conversations at this hostel, but it is already 12, i will sleep. one thing i leave you with, there is a massive dutch flag just hanging in the kitchen. its just there. no given reason really.

15/05/2026 @ riga (lv)

notes on last evenings encounters. a scottish man, mostly comprehendable. he is doing the 'volunteering' thing, i tried to talk to him about how the word does not make sense, he did not seem to understand what i meant. he gave me the definition of what volunteering meant, doing something for free. he is not doing anything for free, but whatever. fun enough guy. he commented that i 'look like i am plotting something', regarding the sweater and my typing into a computer terminal in the kitchen, 'this is foreign to me', about the sweater, or the computer, either-or. closer to the evening, two curly-haired persons sit down at the kitchen table, i am writing, they speak to me about it. one from italy, the other from brazil. i thought that was cool. they were living somewhere, i cannot recall, both doing software work, same company, work-friends. we talk shop quickly, they asked what i am working on at 10pm in this Party Hostel. i show them the blog, they thought it was fun, yay. one of them spoke about 'building an audience', making this a profitable endeavor, make it my work. probably not, the site is de-listed on google by my own doing. one of them, very energetic, talkative. when they were leaving, he wished me good luck on it close to 5 times. i forget both of their names, unfortunately. there are too many names in these speaking-hostels. everybody asks my name, and they tell me their name, as if it adds anything to the conversation. with the scottish man it did really, we spoke afterwards about pronounciation differences, and causes for this, for a bit. his experience was that esl speakers (not his words) are better understandable to english-english speakers, than his scottish-english is. my theory on this, it sounds almost correct to their real language, letting their guard down. an esl speaker constructs english from their own sound-board, so you know to pay attention from the start. i spoke to him about the dutch, also, in reference to the big flag hanging up. just dont like them, you know? the accent, i explained further, only half-joking. he seemed a bit baffled by what exactly i was talking about. 'its good you are honest about it', true. there was at least one other person that evening, but i cannot remember.

in my room, i come to meet a canadian man. vancouver. he is light-spoken for a north american, including the accent. fun guy. talked about 9/11 and the like for a time, he was there for a marathon that sunday. a half marathon in his case. he is wearing a merchandise shirt for a 10k run from his local area. wondering if this shirt is in his day-to-day repertoire, or if he just brought it specifically on his run-trip. he got to latvia via japan, two 10+ hour flights. forgot to ask if the man actually flew 20 hours just to get to latvia for an extended weekend, or if it is part of a combined trip with japan. he really enjoys running. told me the next day he went on three seperate runs throughout the day, first before breakfast, then with two random people, seperate. interesting lifestyle. in addition, a spanish speaking man, mexico. friendly enough, not much to say. he is a 'type' of guy you encounter in these social-hostels, a bit anxious, phone scrolling amongst conversations, wanting to speak, but only sociable when spoken to. he will figure it out eventually. that is baked in, you cannot overcome it, attempting to fake it only makes it worse. electrical engineer, he told me, which made sense. the canadian man warned us, he would be getting up early to go running. thats alright.

in the morning, i did wake up early by the canadian man getting up, but also because none of us closed the blinds. i slept more though, to about 10 am, catching up some sleep. i navigated using the most claustrophic shower-toilet-bathroom i have been in so far, and went down to sit at the long-hall-style kitchen table, the same spot as yesterday evening, the corner where you can see all entrances. the only place that feels comfortable to sit. instant coffees and some nuts, sit for a bit, read some of the mormon-book. the italian-brazillian grouping returns into frame, they join me, they are leaving that midday. i am wished luck on my blog a few more times, they unsuccesfully ask me for advice on somewhere to eat for lunch in a bit, before leaving to the plane, not the person to ask, unfortunately. one man, about mid 30s, came to the lobby area in the middle of this. i recognized him as yester-eve saying something to the tune of 'i am doing shots like i am 19 again! haha!' at the bartender-lobby-person. he had a mullet and a baseball cap on, generally trying to look younger than he really is, pushing 40 he was, really. this morning, checking-out, they would need his keycard, he explained, 'i lost my wallet last night, and uh, the key card was in there.' the brazillian man, sat opposite me, was caught containing a smile and and lightly nodding his head up and down. people-viewing at the social hostel lobby is an experience i can recommend to anybody. multiple groups, or single persons representing groups, come to the lobby and ask about the range-shooting thing previously mentioned. it seems a smash hit. people love the concept of shooting guns. i hear the lobby-person explaining the concept and price-scheme multiple times. the price scheme, is listed on a chalkboard near the entryway to the lobby. it has multiple 'packages', defining which fire-arms you can harness at the range, and how often you get to shoot at a target with them. one of them is called the 'lone wolf', really, yes, another one was defined by the lobby-person as being, 'kind of based on call of duty, you know'. i seemed to be the only person in this whole place who found it strange as a general concept, i asked everybody, nobody seemed to fully understand why i was asking. the scottish man spoke with me some more, cannot remember what about. it was mentioned that i was sitting in the same place as yesterday, it is the only place i would sit in this kitchen, i said, but i left it at that.

eventually, i left, deciding to go wash some clothes, and sit in a park for a time. it is good weather today, sunny, meaning i can hang some things to dry while in the park, that should not make their way into a warm-air-dry-machine. i found a large green area in the south of the city, a laundromat close to a shopping center and large grocery, tram stop relatively close by, sounds good. i took the tram about halfway and walk the rest. there were some interesting sightings, old wooden buildings, the like. the area felt cleaner, a bit more sanitary (negative) than the north side, from what i saw in this small part, anyway. i load up the washer, and multi-task it by walking around the shopping centre and going to the grocer. this shopping centre is in one of these old market buildings, which are always nice, big skylight windows, the like, i gathered it was probably from around the turn of the 20th century. when i exited the bathroom in this place, an older large build woman was just standing in front of the door, blocking my path, it was a small corridor. i stood there for a solid 15 seconds before, and then just pushed my way in between this thing and the wall, baffling incident. i visited the grocer, no hummus was found, but some bread rolls and a kind of mayonaise-based vegetable salad were, good enough. many grocers in lithuania did not have regular bread rolls, especially not whole-grain, which i found strange, having to buy a half-sized bread and eat half of it instead. returning to the laundromat, about 10 minutes remaining on my wash-cycle, i read more from the mormons. not even one book in, a book being one part of writing in this collection of writings, the hebrew god has explicitely stated, slay this man, for 'It is better that one man should perish than that a nation should dwindle and perish in unbelief.', solving the trolley problem for good, i suppose, you cannot argue with that. tommorow, i will seek to acquire a pen, for underlining and annotating the funnier parts of this strange tome.

i walk to this green part of the mapping, the 'victory park'. at the south end, it is awful. sparse trees, paving is far too wide, too spacious for housing nothing, while at the same time not enjoyable for walking in. toward the north end, it is a bit better. this is where i seated myself, near a river, in direct sun-contact, for lunch, reading, drying, and so i did. many people passed, some of them clearly confused by what i was doing. there are machine-drivable roads in this park, never a good sign, a few worker-vans drove past. i watched one work-van drive up, enter the grass, and stop there. a different person in high-vis came walking up the road, and met with them. if you drive the vans all over the grassy areas, your own job is secure, the grass always needs re-sowing. i probably spent 2 hours or so here, not much of interest really happened. after my clothes were dry, i walked around the area some more, but decided this exact spot was a bit too open, too little buildings, too many roadways. the south of riga seems flat, boring. i was thinking of going to the shore, the docks, which are a ways out of town, nearly an hour. i decided however, the beach area, probably crowded on a day like this. tommorow would be better, when it is raining, and so i will do it, in this order. today then, more parks, more parks. it was 4pm, and i returned to the hostel to deposit my clothes.

about 5 then, i felt like walking around for a time. there is a forested area in the north east of the city, marked all over by hiking trails on my mapping application. the very end of tram line one, which also stops right outside the hostel, convenient. at the north side, of course, one also passes many beautiful appartment blocks. i dip into a shopping complex to buy dinner, i had made sure to bring my fork-spoon this time, and i went to the forest. it was good, quite overgrown between the trees with low shrubs, not quite as good as moss, but we will take it, large pines, the like. image provided. i would do a marked 5km trail, but take a small detour to visit a lake in the area, also. there were people here, not crowded, but not quiet. all the benches i passed were occupied, so halfway through, i had situated myself on a small hill, a convenient grassy part, for the evenings dinner. not much came to pass, except one man i viewed, walking a dog, scrolling on his phone. i watched him walk the whole way, he did not look up once, the whole thing is automated for him, by routine. the thought came to me in my head, maybe this would be a good place for the dog-man from yesterday to come. i made my way back to the hostel without incident, just as i left to a tram stop and looked up how long it would be for the next, a tram on the line one arrived. one old woman stared at me, but that is fine. we can handle that.

back at this hostel, i understood that they were gearing up for the bar - crawl, a classic in sickening hostel - culture, i am coming to learn. getting drunk with an annoying group of 10-20 people, in a city you do not live, in a city where none of you live, great concept. this is Travel, assured. lets go to the shooting range after, continental activities, and so on, et-cet-era. it was loud, and i situated myself to write my blog. i spoke for a bit with the mexican man from my dorm, and the scottish man. everybody else left me alone, but would throw a glance here and there. there were no real characters here, just the kind of people you expect to see at an event like this. english people, mostly. over the radio, blaring, a best-of playlist from a high-school-dance tier dee-jay. there were at least 25 people there. at some point, an old friend, or something of the other, of the attending lobby personnel walked in. i gathered they had not seen each other for a time, both part of the not-quite-volunteering racket. the man brought his friend, a local, who sat beside me at the table on his phone drinking an energy drink, clearly uninterested in whatever this was supposed to be. a realization hit me around this time, i had made plans in the morning to go view a film at about 8, there was an interesting looking feature in a small cinema, with english-latvian subtitling, but had forgotten all about it. oops. next time. everybody was given a wrist-band, of course. come time for leaving, somebody produced a megaphone. we were already in a loudness competition, between the millenial-classics music playing over the bad speaker system, to the people reaching american-yelling decibel-iture attempting to speak over it, so this is of course the next step up from that. make your way downstairs, it was spoken. they would be closing the bar area aswell, so i started packing to finish writing in the dorm room. the scottish man remained, one english person wearing a wristband appeared in the door, asking, 'where has everybody gone', comedic timing, just outside the door, i could hear them walking down the street through the open window, unmistakeable sound, the tour group of drunk hostel users produces. there is a specific cadence and accent these people talk in, it is very hard to describe. the wristband-man is relayed this information, to which he responds, 'i am just going to use the bathroom quickly', as if the people here, being me and the scottish man, could do anything with this information. after he left, we affirmed this by a funny look at one another, a little head shake, a shoulder shrug. he would have to do the dishes, i gathered, before being allowed to join, he is working here, nay, volunteering, of course. i offered to help, it was declined, i doubly offered, he could manage. farewell then.

in the room, i re-met the canadian runner, spoke for a bit, and finished writing. he also writes small update posts to his family, extended family, he explained, to avoid being asked what he is up to, and if he is still alive. i suppose that is what i am doing here, also, i am still alive, we are still alive, one big family, something like that. just dont turn it into my job.

PS: formal apologies for the fanmail writer (singular in this case) who has been neglected for two weeks at this point. i have read them as they came in and they are now published here.. general thanks for taking the time to write. still waiting on scam-wells promised further insights. liar. thank you all for reading.

16/05/2026 @ rezekne (lv)

i did not get a chance to farewell either of my room-mates. the canadian, gone somewhere early, the mexican, still fast asleep, probably sickly hungover from his hostel bar crawl partaking. i had some nuts in the kitchen, instant coffees, all the classics, a man is hastily preparing, a fruit-yoghurt, already mechanically consuming spoonfulls, cutting up more apple in between. too much apple-volume for the size of bowl, it was close to overflowing. the scottish man was washing dishes, same as how i left him last evening, so the obvious joke was made, "you are still washing dishes?", feeling british just by saying it. i figured out where to go and when, 12:00 or 17:00 train to rezekne, small city toward the east. no specific reason. it has a population over 10 thousand at least. i observed the walls some more. they have those fake old beer advertisement esque novelty metal plates, 1 euro at a novelty store. it is just various templates with 4 places for text to go, one piece of text is spread over these. example: THE BEST BEER IS AN OPEN ONE, 'AN OPEN' is contained within a spiky round pop-out, clearly where the words NEW or a price point should go.

some people are checking out. half of them did not know what 'name' their bed had, nor in what room they stayed, not a good system. one man claimed his bed had no sign. he was sent to double check, and confirmed, no sign. most people answered yes to the question, do you wish to leave your luggage here, and got the exact same instructions, down the hall, to the right, you leave your keycard now, so, just call on the doorbell, they had a camera-doorbell of course. i forgot to mention yesterday but, yes, 6 days of no-dutch was broken by two men wearing blue skinny jeans and polo shirts, attending the pre-wasting of the bar-crawl. bar-crawl-bar-crawl, bar-crawl, i feel like the slovenian from prague. he would do a better job than the persons here, based on nothing. half the people in this building are english, why not call it a pub crawl, rolls off the tongue better, marketing purposes, probably. shooting oneself in the head at the hostel gun-range school expedition after an embarassing performance at the hostel bar-crawl the day previous. legendary bit for the daring.

i make my way out eventually, mogging the rest of the people by already having all the information at the ready, the process was at least 30 percent faster this way. i left with my backpack, intending to take a 5 pm train. i looked on the map, there was another forest area more north-west of the city, at the end of tram line 11. by the tram stop, three lads are stood smoking cigarettes and drinking open containers. they are approached by a woman, complaining, i guessed, as the answer to the question was something like 'they are fizzy drinks. cola.', probably not true. there are people waiting at the tram stop, time passes, no trams are seen. a notice was noticed, hanging from a pole, in latvian only. it seemed to indicate something about tram lines 1, 3, 4, 5, and 11, between 12 and 17 this day, on account of this marathon tommorow. i do not have the live google translating thing on my phone, so i tried chatting to some people there, asking if they knew english. all of them kind of looked at me and just passed me off. i suppose i looked a little too homeless, they thought i was asking them for money or something, i reckoned, and i left it at that. eventually, a bottle-collecting man showed up, i talked to him, he spoke good english, and explained the sign was not clear even for a latvian speaker. it said something to the effect of the trams only going up one way, not back down, which does not really make sense. you would run out of trams eventually. as i spoke to him, this man had his phone in hand, at the ear, in the telephone lobby with the tram company, wanting to ask for clarification. important for his work, being able to get around, i suppose. a tram arrived, not my number, the man motioned he would get on, i just left for the main station at that point, i would still be able to catch the early train to my destination instead. i had no interest in trying to navigate broken tram lines all day, and this park was many kilometers away. next time.

i board the train without incident, at first confused if i was standing in the first class cabin, it looked a bit too nice, adjustable headrests and the like. i asked somebody, they said no, it is the next over. okay, they just have Good, but old trains in latvia, i suppose. i begin listening to some music, reading, not the book of mormon this day, though i probably should have. i still need a pen, there are annotations that need making. a woman sits in the next column over, she has a box of some kind, could not tell at first what. a large duffel bag, used as feet rest, a neck-pillow, you know the type, people love those on planes, bringing it for a regular train ride is questionable, my thought was she is returning from somewhere, this part of latvia surely has no airports. two hours later, i got a better look at this box, she was fiddling with it on the eating table, it is a mcdonalds happy meal. bon appetite. behind me, an older woman, often shifting items to-and-fro the eating table, the seat next, the eating table in front of the seat next. when the conductor came to scan my ticket, she did not even scan the interrail thing, just motioned to look at the application. if this continues, we might have found another way to scam free train rides in the baltics, a fake interrail application showing a random qr code.

the landscape consisted mostly of forest areas and fields, filled with dandelions, we like those, broken up by small farm buildings, grazing cows, small lakes. i did not look too often. at the town of vijani, i did view to my left enormous stacks of lumber piled high, some of the trunks looked over a meter in diameter. shame. the train mostly emptied out at rezeknes station. it is the last major stop on this line, as far as i could tell. when i took my headphones off, i could hear a cat speaking in the train car. i looked over, a man is holding a big carrying cage, pointing it at the window, as to show the cat, look, we are home. presumably, it was speaking to the people in the train car for a while. i giggled at this thought a bit, though nobody else did. thats alright. at this station, you can view half abandoned looking tracks, a long abandoned circular fountain, on the north side, looming appartment blocks, those being loomed over by a chimney, in their turn. it is good. one older man approached somebody sitting by this fountain structure, they had a hug, and walked along.

i arrived at my place of residence, on the way noticing i was really just in a suburb, there are detached houses, and a few appartments. at the address is a latvian red cross location, flag waving and all. the gate is locked. i give the booking-dot-com number a call. the girl explains to me the steps in decent english, open the red box, it had a padlock on it, the code was 0-0-0-0, very good. there is a meeting hall with about 30 chairs, the girl on the phone described it as 'the big hallway'. there is a well stocked kitchen, and exactly two sleeping rooms in the upstairs area. i have four beds again, two doubles. one of them seems to be a converted leather couch with half a bed frame attached to it. i am to leave 35 euros in cash by te television. the television is about the size of a computer monitor, which is funny. the whole building is covered in wall-paper, you do not see that much anymore. there is an extra door in the room, blocked by a chair. i have not tried the handle yet, it feels a bit scary to have here. i ate something, drank a coffee, and left to walk further south. there were some castle ruins in the middle of the city, apparantly. i passed about five churches, there were many people sitting in a courtyard, a large statue. i found the ruins, and sat by the ruins. they are situated on a hill. one can see parts of the walls, one part of what is probably a tower, and a single still standing arch. it looks very interesting, how this arch is the only thing still standing, at the other side, down off the hill, you can see it is actually an oval shape. looks a bit like a portal. if i was doing alchemy in the 18th century, this is where i would be attempting to summon spirits and Entities, and so on, no question about it. a man drives past blaring music out of his two-door vehicle. a right hand is hanging out of the window. i can physically feel the music hitting my eardrums, all the way up the hill. unreal how loud this sounded, it must have been a kind of amphitheatre effect.

futher along my path, i pass a bridge over a river. it has some rapids under the bridge. the whole time i am passing random locals doing whatever they do on a warm sunday evening. not one backpack in sight, it is a far cry from the gun-range hostel in riga filled with british. we pass a red brick cathedral, with a black sloped roof. it was visible from the castle hill before. it looked pristine. completely untouched. it might be a new construction or something. the gates were closed, or i would have tried to walk in just to see. the neighbourhood this thing was situated in was strange aswell. it is next to gas stations, 1-story low-rent shop spaces containing buildings that look like so, boarded up old storefronts, and one very specific building housing some beautiful art pieces in the old window frames. i wanted to continue on to a lake, a green part of the map before looping home, but, it had started raining while i stopped at a weird monument. a man was squatting at the pavement to a bus stop, smoking a cigarette. he did not move. it was raining quite bad. i hid under a bridge for a bit, but it was not letting up. i stayed for 20 minutes or so until it felt better, and started making my way home. the lake, for tommorow then.

at home, i mostly relaxed. i am tired, generally speaking. i should sleep more. there is an insane set of cup selections in this red cross building kitchen, view video, imperative. that is all for today, i think we will go to the very southern city tommorow, train schedules permitting.

17/05/2026 @ dauvagpils (lv)

at about 5:50 in the morrow, i woke up from something called an 'Extreme alert' on my phone, one of those emergency alerts They do not allow you to turn off. the National Armed Forces of Latvia wished to inform me about a possible air threat. if i was to notice low-flying, suspicious, or dangerous objects, i should not approach. shelter in place, close your windows and doors. they will send another alert when this is over. as far as i know, i took a screen-shot, dismissed the warning, and then immediately fell back asleep. i woke back up at about 8. there was no alert to tell me it was over, so i sheltered in place some more, showering, eating, the like; my window was open, but this was probably fine. no all-clear had been given by this time, but i started feeling cabin fever, and so emerged from my bunker. it was hot, and there is much concrete in this city.

i began walking back down south, towards this lake area the rain prevented my visiting yesterday. i visited a store, which did not sell any regular bread buns. i made do with fruits and some croissants. at a large plus-shape-intersection, i watched an older couple do a full diagonal crossing over after their light turned green, and then a group of teenagers follow this path, also. it seems a known fact that you can make this crossing among the locals, it is meta, and made me feel like a tourist, i did a regular L-shape crossing. i walked up a small hill, and back down, arriving at the lake. it has a beach area, and there are many people there, swimming in the water, and so on. to the right, i found a bench in direct mid-day sunlight and ate. i had bought an aloe-vera drink at the grocer, it was fine, there were chunks in it, 'aloe-vera pulp inside!', the label noted. i walked around some more, it was still extremely warm. accross the lake, i could hear a speaker playing old-style trance, imagining this was a group of Dudes chilling, drinking lukewarm lagers by the lake, listening to paul van dyck best of playlist, a sunday. i would be taking a 14:00 train, the riga line, a change at the station called krustpils, which just sounds vaguely filthy, from there, going down to daugavpils, a bigger city in the south-east of latvia.

i had a journey all through the city, south to north, trying to get to the station. west of the station is a large roadway, south a bit from there, strange constructions of missing walkways and metal-box stores. i passed a store that was ostensibly selling white-label packaging materials for restaurants, take-out boxes, pizza boxes, along with other consumables like napkins. it was next to regular stores and business, which would make it a strange kind of walk-in-purchase store, but, if it was just a warehouse with advertising outside, this makes it a strange place to put the business. i had left myself little extra time, pushing toward the station, full on sweating, arriving with too much time on the clock, still, when will i learn. i stood and watched the station fill up, guessing that the platform where everybody is standing, being one, track one, is where i should stand also. many people passed through the station, it is one of few crossings over the tracks, probably part of many residents daily commute. i had a thought that i probably already walked ten kilometers that day, and really slept pretty badly, on account of the ufo/missile/nuclear-bomb warning i received.

on this first train, i mostly slept. the person scanning tickets took about 4 minutes to validate my inter-rail ticket, and then proceeded to print me a receipt for the price of the train ride, four euro 60, with a mobile payment terminal. i suppose you can buy tickets on the train in this country, then, perhaps i am supposed to be buying tickets on the website and crossing a box to say i have an inter-rail ticket. unsure. this seems to work for now. i got a text from my mormon recruiter, elder freestone, wishing me a happy sabbath. he informed me that he would actually be in riga this week, convenient, i suggested we can talk shop over some coffees, i have some notes from what i have read in the book so far. my mother always warned me, do not give your contact information to the missionary, you will come to regret it, but i think it will be fine. possibly, i will be having coffee with the man, asking him how it is that this book explicitely states on only page 9 that we should kill non-believers for the good of the believers, that this is justified, also other things, probably.

me and about 7 other persons got off the train at krustpils. i scouted the map, there is a store nearby, i could do with some mid-day food. it was about 15:30 at this point, which is not a time anybody should be eating lunch. a small store, i had to make do with unidentified meat cube salad and plastic-wrapped bread. i bought maize bread on accident, that is fine, maybe i am gluten intolerant, also, worth testing for a week, maybe. i could commit to that. the old grocery store clerk seemed extremely annoyed by my not knowing russian, though i did hit a pitch perfect spasiba, the one word i do know. i sat back at the station, being observed by curious station goers. by this time, it was cooling down, and i stood in the sun, on the concrete, after finishing eating. the train arrived, i boarded the second carriage from the front, and thought i had made a mistake, at first. four american tourists are to my left, speaking loudly, not extremely loudly. young people, talking about what they would be wanting to do the next few days. it was somebodies birthday, it was two girls, two lads. at some point, i noticed they are both wearing white button-ups, ties, one of them, a blazer, even. odd vacation attire. i was reading more of the book of mormon, mourning my lack of pen, there were more passages that would be helped by an underlining, for future reference. the group sounded like naive tourists, the girls had that tone of voice, 'ohhhhh nooooo wayyyyy, that sounds soooooo fun?', you know the type, overblown enthusiasm, manually spoken. eventually, however, one person took the conversation towards Business.

this group, perhaps slightly oddly dressed for tourists, were not tourists at all. little by little, the hints were dropped. the leader was giving a kind of interview, 'how do you both feel about your goals for this transfer?', and so on, open questions, regarding something i could not exactly figure out. eventually the phrase 'getting people to church' falls, troubles in hitting 'baptism targets' (the goal was 10 for this transfer). apparantly, the girls were good at 'finding' people, but the 'drop-off' is noticable, they cannot get people to stick. these were no tourists, they are missionaries, of a kind i could not figure out. i did notice, the two men, they are wearing name plates aswell. jehovas witnesses? maybe. mormons? i was not sure if they did baptisms. baptists, then? does that exist in europe? transfers, zone-goals, transfer-goals, first-lessons, second-lessons, follow-ups, calls and outreach, home-work, as a tool for holding interest. a candid insight into missionary work-speak, the logistics of it all. as i gathered it, the talkative man is training the others, in a way, and this is a team-building trip, with some Work sprinkled in. it is worth noting, a drunk russian man is in front of my seat, continually telling two teenage girls to be more quiet, they were giggling loudly, and so on, getting severely annoyed at this. he seemed a bit unstable, and got up at some point, at which point somebody started recording. i continued reading my book of mormon, waiting for a lull in conversation so i might engage them about what exactly they are talking about. i reached book two, chapter three, when the train began arriving to daugavpils. the group was also getting off here, all the better, i will catch the man outside and ask my burning questions.

as i exit the train, this person actually caught me first, in russian. i told him, i speak english, no worries, he explained, 'could i speak to you about something?', i told him, i was going to ask the same thing. the two girls went ahead, probably being given a sign at some point, 'we need to do some work', potentially, and so i had an encounter with the two lads, both quite young, they looked between 18 and 21, at an absolute max. my opening question, i could not help but overhear, you are missionaries of some kind, baptisms and this and that, which branch are you from, 'which branch? well [apprehensive] we are from the, uhm, church of latter day saints', i could not contain my excitement, aha, what are the odds, and i show them my book. the man explained, well, i saw you reading it, you almost never see this happening, i had to talk to you about it. i told them about my encounter with two lads in lithuania, and casually mentioned i might be meeting up with one of them in riga for some further chat. lo and behold, the two kind of looked at each other, and asked each other, 'oh, would that beee, freestone? elder freestone?'. unbelievable. they knew the guys. they are good friends, actually. i later learned there are about 80 missionaries active in the baltic mission, as they call it, and of those, two groups which consider each other friends, the first thought at the mention of 'lithuania' in connection to their church, are sat opposite my train, talking about the logistics of missionary work. a different person would fall into a spiral, full on psychotic break, gang-stalking delusions, another person, immediate conversion: this is no coincidence, this is a sign. for me, somewhere in the middle and due north, i suppose.

i spoke with the lads about more logistics and about mormon theology. they explained, among others, they always have pairs of two men or two women, specifically approaching and out-reaching to men and women, respectively. they live and base in daugavpils, the more talkative one was from utah, spoke russian, had been here about 1.5 years. the other, from california, had been here a short time, confirming my theory that they 'buddy-up' a person who knows the language and has spent a greater time in the mission with a new arrival, always. apparantly, mormon theology, at least of this branch in mormonism, does not uphold the trinity as it is understood in most christian sects, instead saying God is a seperate being from christ, and seperate from the holy spirit. they are working in tandem, they have the same goal, but they are distinct entities, as opposed to the classical trinity, defining 'god' as the father, the son, the holy spirit, one entity, with different parts, unified, yet distinct in 'form'. something like that, anyway, i am no real theologian. i thought this was interesting, even more so when it was explained, that god, the father, has a physical body which has always existed, christ being the first born of god, the spirit existing for now as a spirit, without a physical body, but with the knowledge that it will eventually attain a physical form, likely during the final judgement. it was a fun conversation, made more fun by the pre-text and con-text as to how i encountered them, it was an obvious shot for them to imply it is a sign, that it may be important. it is important, for a different reason, i get to post about it online, to you, yes, you. i bid them farewell after a while, seriously hoping i may meet the elder freestone in riga for a coffee this week and explain this situation. the payout on this kalshi bet would have the potential to cause a world-wide recession.

anyhow, i get to my accomodation without incident, except that i was attempting to input a code at the wrong master-lock key-box for a while. instead of a key, i have an nfc plastic wristband, a first. 21 euros, discounted as a last-minute, for a whole appartment to myself. not bad. the place is situated within a library, and is filled with various russian books in multiple bookshelves. this makes the book-shelf-thing outside make more sense. please look at this image a clock on the wall denotes that 'time is money', there is a grainy, blurry, sun-washed print of a cup of coffee on the wall. the sun-washing makes it look like a cup of green tea, surrounded by a heaping of coffee beans, which is a funny visual. on the rest of the city, i like what i have seen so far, i did walk to the store for dinner and back, it was a microwave dinner with more fruits and a pastry, my attempt at eating more 'real' meals, passing some parks, many young people were seen, walking about. daugavpils is the russian center in latvia, more than half the population are ethnic russians, russian is the majority language here. a man, sitting sideways out of a car, is smoking a cigarette, speakers blaring russian folk music through an otherwise empty street, a beautiful sight.

18/05/2026 @ riga (lv)

i slept surprisingly well last night, the provided bed actually fit my stature with minimal diagonal-laying, leading me to lay there until about 10. i had bought some granola the day previous to eat for breakfast, and so i did, along with two bananas. the gluten testing will need to wait. i left eventually, finding my key-box had already been turned to the correct numbers over-night, or this morning, always unsettling. a local who knows the codes just testing if they can make use of the room this evening, or somebody checking if you have left yet, you cannot know. i walked to my right, the opposite of the direction i walked yesterday, making it the direction not yet walked, i think, eventually following a grassy tram track, so chosen because it looked cute, due south, the riverside. dauvagpils is a city which is situated on a river, which is not an interesting characteristic. dauvagpils is also the place where rothko was born, and so there i found a sculpture dedicated to rothko, convenient, now i know this, and all the readers at home also. the sculpture did not look extremely interesting. near to there, a boardwalk heading east towards the industrial zone. it looked like a good place to walk. an outcropping, both upwards and outwards, gave a nice view of the riverbank, which was here filled with a large green zone, half-flooded grasslands. a partially collapsed pier extended outwards, with no way to make it to the end. i stood at this outcropping for a bit, admiring the distinction between the rusted industrial buildings behind and the greens toward, amplified by the light to medium rain. the greens of nature, always more greener-er while it rains, and afterwards. i do not know if that is caused by the 'darkened' colours of concrete, skies, mud, and-so-on, or if plants simply immediately repurpose the fallen water as skincare. it does not really matter that much.

a woman entered the boardwalk, also, and i sensed that i was slightly in the way of her picture taking. it felt rude, but she was gone before i could get out of the way. with that, i started walking along the river, east. one person doing some pre-run stretching, before starting running, out of sight quickly. the boardwalk had a lower part, more in the greenery, and an higher part, following the territory walls, i had chosen the lower, two lads on the upper, one with a deathly cough. i stopped for a bit to rest and Gaze, and to allow their passing, the sound was a bit annoying. i passed what i think is a brewery, an image of which is surely pictured. over-yonder, appartment buildings arise over the treeline. one person, wearing red, is seen angling at the riverside, hoping, for him atleast, he did catch some of the local fauna. eventually, the path ends at a low metal wall, each panel containing a different Scene in a street-painting style. the mapping application implied there should be more path, but it seemed not. on further inspection, however, i did note an area simply labeled Prison, and i started towards this, through a few streets that did not pretend to have a real sidewalk, simply some lightly begrassed muddy area on the one, a half-broken setup of bricks, among other sediments, the other. that is alright. one passing vehicle nearly covered me in rain water, had i not the foresight to cross the road as it approached, disallowing the chance. it is still raining, though not very much at this point, the choice was made to close the umbrella, for fashion purposes. i passed a furniture store, which i thought at first was closed, there was a sign advertising the space as for sale or for rent, at least, and one of the door-window-complexes was entirely blocked by furniture, which was presumably for sale. there was another door however, which was open, some people exited, and looked at me strangely for gazing at the building. accross the street, an appartment complex, donning in its front the flag of the province, latvia and that of the european union. they simply loving flying the flag of the european union in these countries, most likely contractually motivated.

eventually, i begin reaching fenced buildings with signs depicting a camera, and a large red line through it, as well as signs depicting a human person in movement, given the same treatment. eventually, a path is crushed between two clearly off-limits fenced-in areas, leading directly to a kind of monument, mostly overgrown. it seemed to be in open access. i walked there, hoping to not get shouted at. there are many cleared plots, where i felt gravestones should be, the entrance-way is decorated with red 5-point stars on either side. there is text in both latvian and russian, on this obelisk-shaped memorial. toward the right, in one of these empty plots, exactly two gravestones, both written in hebrew, one with a flower next to it. at that time, i had no idea what it said, having translated it now, a memorial to soldiers of the red army, commanders of the red army, partisans, and 'peaceful hunters' (translation error, likely), numbering ten thousand. one wonders what the other plots are for, and why there are exactly two other gravestones. a little further then, an extremely cute sight. a cat is sitting in the grass, looking quite friendly, though backing off, moving a bit closer to a fence, as i walked closer, pulling my attention towards a small shelf, one door missing, and a cat bowl, left by this tree, where the cat is now standing. inside the shelf, some blankets, left half open to allow entry, but extra shelter from the elements. somebody has constructed a little living place out of whatever they had for this cat. on a closer look, there seemed another cat poking its head out of the shelf. roommates. i did not approach further, neither did they, and on i walked, happy with my encounter. view cute imagery. a little further along, guard towers, a three or four meter high wall, cameras, and signing denoting you cannot fly a drone within 500 meters, specifically, the icon is of a drone with a camera. nothing about regular pictures though, but i was not about to find that out for an image of a wall. i moved along, toward the street this prison lays next to, up some stairs. i then saw the beautiful sight of the prison perimeter, and after internal debating, did take a picture, it simply looked too good. enjoy this illegal material, probably. north from here, i would pass the tracks, and see four churches in total, one of which an orthodox cathedral, white and blue, with gold, bulbous domes, typical of orthodox churches in the region. they always look out of place, no matter where you find them, that is probably not true for the people who see them often, actually, they do not always look out of place; i have changed my mind.

i followed this road further, intending on visiting a green area with a lake before swinging back south toward the station, at this point, the ever-present rain began picking back up, quite hard for a time, then again very little. i walked a further two kilometers northside, entering a lidl for something to eat. i felt like having some coffee, but this was not an area where i was likely to find a cute cafe. i have noticed, in latvia specifically, they have these coffee machines all over the place, on the sides of the streets, the entryways to shops, and so on. i vowed to find one, and so i did, along with a small set of covered benches to sit by. i ate some fruits and pastries, opting not to go with a full meal for now, along with my machine coffee. i ended up having two. an older woman, sitting in one of these bench-seats, is speaking to a different older woman, sitting accross the walkway in a similar construction. i thought it was a bit funny, they were close to ten meters apart for seemingly no reason. i made my way toward the lake area, requiring a crossing of a tram-track and a six-lane road, no problem for me, nor for others, the exact spot i crossed over to had a perfectly cut path in the grass. great minds, et-cet-era. this lake area had one grassy part sticking out far into the lake. i could hear frogs in the distance, and so vowed to walk towards the frog-sounds, dodging puddles and generally half-flooded parts of the ground in this process. there were some benches, even some communal barbeque things, by this time surrounded with rain-water-collections, puddles, the ground around those, always lightly indented. i relaxed with the frog sounds, surrounded by some local water-fowl, looking across the small lake.

my feet only slightly wet, i began making my way back to the station. it was about five kilometers, most likely, as i was not taking the suggested route from the mapping application. this was quite a trek, beginning with this sighting of a concrete faux-egyptian statue outside a building, for seemingly no reason. it took me through a pretty strange area, a kind of suburb, at the western end north of the tracks in this city. a sub-urb, yes, there are only houses, but the whole thing is bissected with a four lane road, stop-signs included. strange. along this route, many very old wooden cabin buildings, still occupied. i also saw a store that seemed to advertise selling scales. very specific business. most likely, one of the window adverts is pictured. beyond this, i made my way to the tracks eventually, without incident, except a very angry dog, loosely leashed. no biting was had. at the tracks, many freight trains, a beautiful kind of landscape, alongside, a large cross memorial, ostensibly to a battalion(?) of polish soldiers, from the first world war. slightly exhausted, paining in my walking, by this point, some more sloped stairs to navigate, a homan-bridge over the cargo-tracks. i got to the tracks, my train is already waiting there, and i seated myself. my original plan was to go to a town named ogre, purely on account of the name, but there was no cheap accomodation there. back to riga for a night then, and over on the north trackway tommorow, steadily making my way toward estonia. i booked a different hostel, hoping for a less shooting-range-based experience. a three hour, nearly, train ride, mostly without encounters, save some people offended by my being there, a half-smoked cigarette left in the bathroom sink, amusing. i threw it into the toilet to 'flush', not wanting to be accused of smoking on the train by whatever is on the other side of the door. these are old trains, one simply operates a lever by foot to drop the entire content of this toilet directly through a hole, on to the tracks. one encounter, actually, as i gazed at the half-smoked bathroom-cigarette, a man tried the door handle at least three times in the two minutes i was in there, and, upon exiting, simply stood blank-faced, staring at me, as i tried to exit, his overweight body halfway blocking my doing so. skinwalker, not a human person, gangstalker, something worse, who knows.

from the station, i walked straight to my hostel, of which the entrance door is actually inside the mcdonalds, just across the station. i followed some instructions, rang a doorbell, got handed a form first, named 'alien information form', or something like that, a government document, the girl explained, some basic personal information, the obligatory tour, i can already tell this was a better option. it is spacious, a few quiet working/relaxing areas. only one person in my strategically booked 6 person dorm room, booking-dot-com informed me they only had 'five beds left!', sat down to write, and so on. a good day. i liked dauvagpils. i think i can say the left ankle is steadily improving, despite my not really doing anything to allow it to heal, walking ten kilometers with my backpack each day. all the better.

19/05/2026 @ valmiera (lv)

yesterday evening and this days morning i came to chat with a lithuanian man, white guy with glasses and long dreads phenotype, speaking in a kind of cadence where the word 'mayne' is used. he was a bit surprised i went anywhere except kaunas and vilnius, when i mentioned klaipeda and his hometown of siauliai, he told me 'my man'. just when i was going to sleep, there were people on the lobby couches, speaking about something, one person in a dutch accent mentions something about the netherlands. dangerously close, a near-dutch-experience. i heard exactly one nonmistakably dutch sentence the next morning, as the same people were leaving to breakfast, we are back to day zero. i had just come from breakfast, where the same lithuanian man sat along side me, i watched him eat three mini croissants smothered in nutella, and then another two, if i recall. he had three glasses of orange juice, i did not try any. the breakfast was free. this lithuanian man was in the hostel volunteering circle, he explained, originally from the ghetto of lithuania, this being, in his own opinion, south siauliai. i did not visit souht siauliai, but i take his word to be truthful. i left the hostel and went straight to the station, my train toward the north at about 11:30. there would be no meeting with elder freestone in riga, unfortunately, he is only there later in the week, but he wishes to call me this evening, which is standard practice for the religious recruiter, though i will try to guide to conversation toward my own questions instead of any scripted conversation. outside the station, i observed a man pouring out an entire bag of what i think were oats into a long tree-pot, immediately attracting the attention of all local pidgeons, numbering at least 40, and a singular seagull. the seagull entered the fray, and every single pidgeon jumped, flew, startled off, a few meters back. mogged. i boarded the train with five minutes to spare, i had left it a bit close. the pedestrian lights just outside of the riga station take over a minute each, and negatively line up, causing one to wait several minutes to cross maybe thirty meters of distance.

on the train, at first, not much notable. we were approaching station of cesis, which lies at about two thirds the distance from riga to valmiera, which was my destination, the last city on this line before the border to estonia, population being around twenty-five-thousand. a few days previous, i had gotten that phone red-alert when we were in rezekne, this time again, on the train, quite a loud noise as every person their phone goes off, kind of in seperate waves. nobody seemed to care about it. at the station, quite suddenly, one of the train conductors, an middle aged to late middle aged woman who spoke no english, walked up and started telling people something. nobody in this part of the train spoke lithuanian, however, she walked along to the driver cabin. we stood for a time at the platform, first, an announcement of a delay, unknown length. some people had gotten up, they were speaking english, and sounded a bit panicked. i started chatting to them for a bit, first, to what i think was a mexican woman. her english was not great, but she seemed scared of something, wondering about what happened. the friend was on the phone, eventually coming up to speak also. she explains, she is scared, does not know what is going on, i asked if she received the same alert, and said i got another one earlier in the week, its probably nothing. personally, i figured there was something else ongoing, an Incident on the tracks up ahead, something like this. two teenagers joined the conversation, unsure of their origin, one having shaved hair, the other purple, wearing purple lipstick, also, various minecraft themed keychains hanging from a backpack (bag-charms, they call these in the biz), along with many pins, people love those also, the one that caught my eye read 'Sesbian Lex', dark pink text on a light pink background. they were also confused, a bit nervous, for what reason exactly, i simply did not comprehend. the phone-woman asked me, how do i feel about this, which i did not really have any answer to, i was still sitting with whatever i was reading. it is hard to take loud military phone alerts seriously, sure, whatever, drone strike my passenger train, why not. an announcement is made by a different train conductor, a younger woman who spoke good english, we will be evacuating the train. a chuckle from me at this, not so much from the people who realistically had places to be at specific times. on to the station building we went.

i bought some water from the station convenience store, which strangely enough for a station of this size, also sold tote bags with the words LATVIA and RIGA all over them, as well as those necklace cushions people love to use. the man in front of me bought a hot dog and an aloe vera drink. the convenience chain 'narvessen' in both lithuania and latvia, so far, also sells hot dogs and sometimes other items at nearly all their locations, which makes working there even worse than a regular convenience store worker. i wished to take a walk through the town, but they were unsure of how long it would take, and advised me to simply wait inside. recommendation received, i waited outside, taking in some sun light and navigating some browser tabs for information about why they are taking whatever is happening relatively serious. what had happened, as i gathered it, an ukrainian drone had entered latvian airspace near the eastern border, by rezekne, and followed along north into estonian airspace, where some nato jets were scrambled to shoot the thing down. nobody was hurt, and eventually the alerts were cancelled in all the regions where this drone had passed, one could trace the approximate flight path by looking at the time these alerts were issued per region in both countries. i learned aswell, a similar incident had occured both on the 17th, the alert i received, and the 14th, that specific event triggering the resignation of the latvian prime minister. the country is thus in some slight political turmoil, not that you would have known it as a person who does not read the news, myself being so. eventually, the younger attendant chatted to me for a bit outside, asking where i was going that day, where i was from, and so on. i asked if this happens often, she explained no, this is the first time for me personally. glad to have experienced it, viewing the human stress response to world war three coming to the front door, though not yet. eventually, a stream of people exited the station, signalling that we would be re-departing. oddly enough, there were less people than those that got off, leading me to believe at least some were left stranding at cesis station. equipped with a notepad, the two train conductors made a quick sweep, noting down how many people were going futher than the border station of valga. to continue further into estonia, you swap trains there, this train would be missed, it seemed, they were counting how many people would require some kind of extra transportation.

we arrived at valmiera, i exited the station, one of a handful. i felt vaguely tired, taking a route toward, and then through, a forest nearby the station on the way to my accomodation, passing a few dilapidated houses on the way to this forest. the area had random platforms and nets set up, for some kind of disc-based golf game, as the accompanying signage explained. i sat down to eat some carrots with hummus, feeling less tired from this. a group of teenagers closed in on my position, playing the disc-golf game, meaning it must be quite popular here, the odds of seeing this are otherwise quite low. i finished eating to avoid the encounter, no point in it. closer to the river, a large clearing contained many more of these platforms and targets. the whole area was quite beautiful, but also strange looking. there is a large metal bridge, at my side of it, the only buildings in sight are multiple identical appartment blocks, and a muddy clearing with unexplained origin. some people are sitting on the riverbank. i received a message on booking-dot-com, containing a door code, and a primer of what i was walking into. my accomodation used to be an escape-room, after entering, go to the second floor, the key is, as the man put it, somewhere near the door. he still has the spirit of an escape-room-host, hehe, go find the key, hehe. upon entering the place, a room with a couch, bathroom to the right, left, a narrow hallway, covered in tin-foil, with a chair inside of it, this was the time machine where the escape room started, he explained. the door handle turns upside down, the first puzzle, entering into a bedroom, with the next door being on the inside of a closet, not nearly tall enough for me to walk through. this brings you to the living room, and from there, the kitchen. from the front door then, you enter five seperate doorways, three of which being novelty ones, to get to the kitchen. here are some videos to demonstrate. there is a large amount of live-laugh-love-core home decor, a wall full of home is where... placques, seemingly the result of buying one of each that was on display, beyond those, also real Artifacts, a collection of small ceramic vases, an old vinyl player, though one that only plays the small kind of discs, it seems, i could not find any in the whole appartment, making it more of a visual object, pretending to be something it is not. there are some thick wooden spoons in the kitchen with a kind of tribal-aesthetic pattern carved in to the middle handle.

i had some coffee, charged my phone a bit, and left for a walk of the town. it was still blaringly hot. this is a nature-surrounded town, but the center is pure concrete. i bought some fruits, dark bread, and some kind of unidentified plant salad, intending to make sandwiches with whatever this was exactly for dinner, alongside some cans of tuna still in my backpack. sounded like a good meal. i walked the center of the town, and then made my way east. i was still feeling tired at this point, no plans of walking too long, there was a phone call scheduled in the evening, recall. north of the river now, the station and my accomodation being south, more forests in my front, i zig-zagged about a bit, found a sculpture with text i cannot read, dodged a few mountain-bicyclists and ended up at an open air stage. the seats were carved into a hill, interrupted here and there by a tree they had left standing, marking this as probably constructed in the near past, and also making many of the seats in the further back barely usable. a police car was parked up close-by, a conversation on-going, some laughter abound, hopefully not about me. i move on, eventually reaching the river bank, where there is a large loud group of children, which i avoided. there was a zip line they were enthusiastically abusing, so making three available river crossings within the city limits. a little further along the bank, a small island with a heaping of logs to make a crossing, which i did not attempt, though i came very close.

i made my way to the large metal bridge we passed earlier. it has speakers on it, playing some soothing music, fit for the scene, really. i stood for a while on the bridge, thinking about nothing in particular, as i remember it, and found my way home, it being about 6 pm now. i had not really been outside much today, but that is alright. i started writing a part of my blog, and had a forty five minute phone call with elder freestone. i had my notes at the ready, and got many answers to many questions, not allowing him much time to hit his own talking points regarding baptism, entering a covenant, and so on. i will write more about my ventures in mormon theology at a later date, as it is already a later evening time now, there is simply no time. i will leave this here.

20/05/2026 @ tartu (ee)

i stayed up too late yesterday, and woke up at 10:30 this morning. i hurried a bit, and got out of the door by 11:45. one note, i have been seeing many of a specific kind of carpet around the baltics, view attached picture, i have one of this type at home. also my train would be at 13:30, there-abouts, heading up to estonia, and i still wanted to walk around valmiera some more. i had really planned to get up earlier and go to the far west of the city, there were some ruins or something there, but that would not fit in the time frame anymore. i visited a store, buying bananas, and two croissants, for breakfast, aswell, some kind of dark bread, lightly brined seaweed, and two cans of tuna, the same ingredients as my dinner yesterday. i walked a bit more, there is really not much to see in valmiera, sat by the north river side to eat, many people passed by here. one child almost got hit by a bicycle rider. i walked back to the station, which was another two kilometers. good walks. at some point my right knee felt extremely painful for a second, which we are choosing to ignore. it is nothing.

i arrive at the station, two young children are running up and down the wooden platform structure, their mother tells them something. one of the children is overheard saying 'wat da fak' two times, interrupted by mother telling them something. uncontrolled. to the right, two railyard workers are workering on the railyard, each one one side of a track, one wears a yellow reflective getup, top and bottom, the other an orange, top only. is that a Rank factor, one is a supervisor and gets to dress better, or is it coincidence, wearing whatever they got when hired, from different time periods. maybe they get to choose what color they like. that would be nice. orange fits my hair color better, sir. are they one-size-fits-all, perhaps, there is just a stock in the workers room, there are arguments over who gets to wear what color, maybe. i would argue over it.

the train arrives, and i notice another passenger, making us a group of five total, he wears a pink shirt reading HEAVY LOAD / XXL on the back, along with a logo of something, some other text i do not recall, skinny jeans, arms too skinny. light heroin physiognomy. he had no bags with him, wonder where he is going today. the conductor comes, an older woman, it was one of the more communicative encounters with the latvian conductors, very polite, she recites a few english sentences at me, which sounded memorized, and prints me my zero euro ticket, thank you. i would only be on the first train for about half an hour, there is a swap over at the border town of valga, and so opted to look at the window until then. in front, a man in seen in the reflection of mirror, fumbling with a bag of nuts or the like, trying to make little noise as he opens it, which he does not end up doing. decided he was not hungry, maybe, or felt the chewing sounds of nuts on the train to be rude. there is something to be said about that, i agree with this sentiment, eating on a train is rude, but on the platform, it is not. next to these tracks on either side is a zone of cleared trees, standard practice, not enforced equally, some are mud-scapes with scattered branches, marking it a re-clearing, others, young saplings sprouting, only recognizable as a former clearing. the same young conductor from yesterday, from the train evacuatation, passed at some point, looked at me, and said, 'hello again'. hello again, indeed.

at the second-to-valga station, a man got up to use the restroom, and i recognized this man. this was jonas, from switzerland, from the kaunas hostel. i got up to intercept him, said hello, jonas, switzerland, kaunas?, come to speak to me after, and so he did, we would converse until tartu, he was also going to tartu, had been staying in riga for a week, he enjoyed riga, many daytrips there, i told him about some of my own adventures, the mythical scenes at klaipeda, and so on. he had an appartment to stay in, i have a Strange hostel, private sleeping room, 20 euros, you cannot pass that up. conversation topics included Fashion, things i have learned about the mormon church, i made him read the annotated pages talking about the aforementioned Curse mentioned. sometimes it felt i was speaking at jonas, not so much conversing, i had much information to dump on a human target in conversation, including my experiences at the riga hostels, conversation about this was not appropriate at the riga hostels itself. i enjoyed speaking at jonas from switzerland, i repeated the phrase jonas from switzerland a little too often, it is fun to say. we bid each other fare-well at the station, i told him to e-mail me, he would be taking a bus toward his destination, i would be walking up to my accomodation, which was at fastest three kilometers away.

i walked around the station building, passed some churches, made my way down some unmarked, but frequently trampled, hills between houses. tartu is a pretty city, very green, many parks, old, but well maintained, wooden buildings. hard to describe what makes it so fun to walk around in. everywhere across this city, i notice signs marking Video Surveillance. everything and anything is under Video Surveillance. i walk over a bridge, northbound, through a park, west-ward along the river. near my entrance point, a large building, with strange bike lockers, presumably paid, two in use. they looked to be used for when one does not have a regular bike lock, yet, one has a regular bike lock hanging from it. near here, a regular bike storage, approximately 40 bikes in session. there are many people biking in this city, i noticed. they have real bike paths along most roads. along this river bank, they have long, long, rows of metre thick trees, a boat parked in the water, every now and again, sitting areas with Fun infrastructure like chairs you can lightly swing in. one girl was sitting in one of these, steadily rocking it back and forth for the entire time it was in my vision, while reading something or the other. a set of steps went down to the water, four people were existing there, In The Moment, one, a runner doing runner stretches, pre-run or post-run, not clear. the trees. the trees are a sight, knotted, full of life, sprouting from each crack, moss. if it is good weather tommorow, i will come sit by the trees tommorow morning. view the trees, some more.

eventually, i had to turn right, toward the given address, and encountered a tall hill, with a staircase, stopping for a second before engaging. two young lads arrive on bicycles, and they are witnessed taking on the task of pushing them up the bicycle-tray, head down, making me wonder how often they have done this exact hill. i get up, turn left, look at some industrial worksites, walked into an open driveway to look at a building. i took a picture, which is probably pictured somewhere, and realized there were two people sitting in a corner, just by the entranceway, looking at me doing this, aghast. i smiled at them, non reciprocated, and left the area. a tall man, unusually tall for this part of the world, was kneeling down by the grass a bit further up the street. he got up as i walked further, began walking the opposite direction, and threw a wink my way as we made eye contact, kinship in stature, i suppose. i reached the building, the door was locked, i walked toward a different door, an older woman stood outside, asking me, 'guesthouse? follow.', and so i did, back towards the first door. we negotiate to the second floor, she was holding on to both guard rails, they need a lift in this building. i pay my 20 euros, i get the tour, i answer yes, okay, sounds good, to every statement, because it was. it is a good accomodation for 20 euros, very good. in the room, one decoration, a printed picture of a small bird, framed into a frame which is too large, lightly off center. good decoration. i leave to walk.

i decide to walk north, there are some old manor gardens, a cemetery on the way. i do walk through the cemetery, though it makes one feel bad, it is an active, used cemetery. many plots here have benches, at least 1/3rd had a bench inside of it, some of these are also gated, which is a strange combination. i pass some people, and avoid eye contact, knowing my shameful act, touristing about the cemetery. i exit eventually, into a suburb, many wooden houses here. the smell of varnish hangs around the air, making me believe one of these wooden houses had been recently repainted. i think i found the culprit, it looked too perfect, though i cannot be sure, they were all neatly kept. on approaching, there was a lake, i looked, there were ducks, but i did not stay long. i walked about the palace gardens, by the entrance way a woman was photographing the Sky, i made a long circle around as to not walk in front, risking myself falling down the surprisingly steep hills to the left and right of this walkway. i am a good person. we are good people, you know. there was a tower, three floors or so, with doors and many cameras, a viewing area up top. i could not figure out if i was allowed to walk in here, the signage was unclear, the only clear thing, it was under surveillance. i did not try the door, and walked along. north, some small lakes, and an ongoing race, children on bikes, making me walk around the path into some grass. it was largely cleared. two large piles of rocks, and several conspicuously green, flowered, oblong shapes in the grass, the site of a mass grave, probably, that was my first thought. i sat by a bench, and figured out where to go tommorow. tallinn is the only option that makes sense. the only bigger cities in estonia are tallinn, tartu, and narva, and the only way to get anywhere else conveniently is through tallinn. i think we will do two nights at first, then maybe more later. i found a good deal for the next two nights at 20 euros at a relatively new hostel, 20 minutes by tram from around the center. tallinn is, of course, a relatively popular tourist destination, and you will end up overpaying for accomodation when attempting to book a weekend night only two days in advance.

i passed some more buildings, old plane hangars, it looked like, some critical infrastructure, even, a power substation, which i was photographing with my questionable sweater on, causing one person to give me a strange glance, and a different person, operating a motor vehicle, to slow-roll by for a second, re-creasing his speed when i looked. next to there were some horses in a large field, grazing. i thought it was just in an open park at first, but no, it was lightly fenced. i like the graffiti here, especially the ones containing text, the language does not lend itself to being graffitized, making it look funny, to the outsider, me. that was about it for the day. tommorow, i will walk around the south side, there is a large park i want to go look at, in the least, it looked interesting on the maps.

21/05/2026 @ tallinn (ee)

i had slept badly. when i went to lay down in bed, i noticed it was shorter than a regular single person bed, along with this, the sheeting was made out of an incredibly uncomfortable synthetic material. i had one blanket made out of something the body allows itself to touch which i used to cover both my back, legs, and top of my body, a kind of crescent shape. i had woken up at least 3 times that i remember, this does not happen to me normally, and finally got out of bed at 9. the shower in this place was a converted wheelchair-user-enabled-bathroom, a too-short shower curtain denotes about 2/5ths of the room to be shower area, which is the same tiling continued, with a drainage-grate in the middle, no curving or indenting toward this grate. a squuegie, resting in the corner, answers the questions in my mind. not the first time i have seen this setup. it worked fine, well enough, as long as you keep nothing on the floor.

i had some coffees, nuts, and fruits, eventually leaving this part of the city via the same broadwalk from yesterday, and entered the botanical gardens for a walk. the outside park area is nice, the inside, quite claustrophic and ill maintained at points. many plants were growing into the catwalks, from below, above, any other directionsthese parts subsequently die by trampling from visitors and workers, a net negative to the plants appearance. outside, on account of the rain, few people. one woman intensely photographing all kinds of things, but seemingly apprehensive about anybody seeing this happen, i saw her shyly put the phone away a few times. no need to do that really, if there was any damage to be done, it already was, but there was none. the botanical gardens always remind me a bit of home, my mother always kept a large variety of plants, outdoor, indoor, cactii, suculii, and so on. view some cactii. i visited this park area on a hill, a bit further to the station. it was alright. a few buildings, a few bridges. i sat down on a straight path at one point, a group of teenagers on bikes passed right-to-left, then left-to-right, repeat again, i could not figure out what they were looking for. a young man was cutting grass with one of those hand-held grass cutting devices, approaching my position. directly accross from me, he must have hit a branch, a cracking is heard, as my legs were hit by small pieces of wood flying. that is why he wears a face mask, i suppose. i lightly turned my head away until he fully passed, just to be sure. at this park-hill-area were also just appartment buildings, a small sitting area was explicitely labelled as Private Garden, no entry. must be expensive to live there.

eventually, i walked toward the station, passing a grocery store just south of the tracks for something to eat. i waited about ten minutes, watching the platform fill up, and boarded the train, seating in a 4-block with a grey haired, but not old looking man. the train conductor, a tall young man, had bleached blonde hair and painted fingernails, each one containing a smiling :) emoticon. fun. the man accross from me, for the whole of the ride, would interchangebly adjust his seating, swap his leg placement, fumble with the phone, fumble with a tablet, take his jacket off, put his jacket on. i will allow him this, the seats in this train were not good. i fell asleep for an hour, i was tired, and woke up with intense neck pain. i could not sleep after that, choosing to stare out of the window instead. an asian couple, tourists, judging by the large blue suitcase, sitting in the next four seater over, get off at tapa station, seen from the window reading signs, pacing the platform, discussing, eventually, one of them walks back toward the train they just left, carrying a face of Intent, by my guess, intending to ask some information. just then, the train to narva showed up, and the situation is diffused, they were curious when it would arrive we had been waiting on the platform for it to arrive, it felt like, as we departed soon after. the man in front of me continued adjusting and re-adjusting until we reached tallinn, where he produced four seperate containers from the overheads, a suitcase, a bag to put on top of the suitcase, a backpack, and a hand-held small duffel. good-bye, fidgety man

my accomodation is a 20 euro per night hostel rated 7.6 on booking dot com. it had better reviews on the other website. it is a large building, what i think is a converted hotel, located in a suburban neighbourhood toward the north-east. outside the door hang arge european and estonian flags, entangled together by the wind. the person taking my information took a few minutes, the whole Thing seems a bit chaotically managed, and i looked around the lobby for a bit. a cooler holds items for sale, including a neptunas, a brand of mineral water, bottle for four euros, and a coca cola, one point five liter, for five euros. wonder what the market for that is. there were plastic-wrapped white foot-shaped objects, what i first thought were socks, but are likely cheap slippers, for three euros. i never understood the slippers, especially these thing ones that you cannot even walk into water on. on the desk is a large mouse mat, with a picture of a mouse surrounded by red effects, text in the bottom right reads 'Pro Gamer'. okay. eventualy, room seventeen, bed two, and i am handed a key labelled 17-1, second floor. i enter, nobody home, one of the beds is stacked with random objects, drinking glasses, suitcases piled three high, and so on. some high-visibility jackets are hanging up. this is not a traveller hostel, it is a laborer hostel, which i am fine with, though it leads to less encounters and more general discomfort. there are lockers, but no keys on either 17-1 nor 17-2. i go back to ask about the key being labelled wrong, as well as the lockers, passing one middle aged man, a sign of things to come. most of the signage in this building is strictly in russian, sometimes with an english translation, there is very little estonian. the desk woman tells me, bed two, meaning i should ignore the number on the key, okay. for the lockers, it takes some extra communication, key not in room? no, she looks for another one, opening four cupboards, with keys in them, and subsequently entering a different room, retrieving another another box, containing keys. a man enters the lobby with a severely above average sized bouquet of roses, and hands it to the desk woman. i cannot understand what they are saying, and i did not ask what the situation was, he was either asking to store it there or giving as a gift. no locker key was found, and so no locker is used. one month without getting robbed, lets see if we can keep it up in the russian laborer hostel. i must mention, the shared kitchen is located within the hallway. it is a regular hallway, maybe a bit wider, lined by six refrigerators, each of a different make, several bins, tables, for cooking, tables, for eating, two ovens, et cetera. i leave to walk and have some dinner, boarding a tram for a few stops back toward the station, walking toward the waterfront from there. i pass an older woman on the street, she was staring, and muttered something after passing, which is fine, i deserve it.

on my way to the water, a park, with a deactivated water feature, lightly filled with rain water, matching the state of the sidewalks, those being lightly flooded over. i reach a large road, and cross over at the first point it is allowed. there is much construction, large fences, and few in-ways towards the sea at this section. there was a naval base marked on the map a few hundred meters back, but i did not walk to it. this section of the dock had a nice view of an old fortified building. people are using jet-skis in the water, occasionally making a loud sound. i ate some bread and hummus, a rare find lately, i had bought a quinoa salad also, though i did not end up eating it then. a small bird joined me, doing the action they often do, approach you and robotically pick up crumbs that fall to the wayside. it jumped up on the bench, then my bag, at some point even hovering in the air directly in front of me. they are not as polite as the crows are. more intrusive. i did give it some pieces of bread for effort. i realized i had to do laundry today, thankfully, there is a self-service one very close to this hostel i am staying at. i walked along the water front, then. in the distance, a large concrete construction is visible, a kind of half-pyramid with a plateau at the top, starcases leading there, covered in graffiti. i could see people going up, i am sure i will be walking up that thing tommorow to have a gander. i pass by a large chimney, from the distance one could see two rafters near its peak, likely, there is a ladder inside, the whole thing carries, from my viewing angle at least, exactly one piece of graffiti, a mark of pride, assured. i have been seeing many tags in this city that just say NGRS, which could mean anything, and it is not even worth pointing out, really. i cross a street, barely dip into the old town, walk through some of the parks lining the old town, they are parks, yes. across, another hill with some greenery. five or six people are gathered around something i cannot quite make out, the sun is shining low, there are bikes parked. as i approach, somebody rides down the top of the hill, a path clearly marked by predecessors, hits a ramp, this was the object of gathering, does some air time, and lands it. somebody congratulates, or remarks on the form, or says something entirely unrelated, somebody said something.

i get back on a tram, heading north. there is a group of lads outside the hostel, under a tree, drinking, i presumed. in the room, next to my bed, a middle aged man, he greets me, i greet him, no russian. friendly guy. he tells me, he likes hockey, football, he makes a hand signal, indicating 'small'/'low', a flat hand close to the ground, 'i play football', indicating he has played football since he was young, or when he was young. he was doing something on the phone, watching hockey, or football, i think. i gathered my laundry and left for the laundromat, my phone had about 15 percent remaining, while doing so, i had put something on the bed. this is, by a a long mile, the most ear-scratching creaky hostel bed of all time. i will be surprised if i sleep one second in this thing. i get to the laundromat, it is only about 800 meters away, one of the modern variety, load the washer, pay at the Center Console, no further input required. there are no funnily translated signs here, though i do recognize the interface on this payment terminal from (i think) a different one in lithuania. not sure about that, as this one yells, loudly, about something as you go to pay. on the actual payment terminal, a screen tells you 'Thank you' in many different languages, fading in and out of each other. no problem, my pleasure, et-cet-era. all the machines have a large amount of warning labels, stickers, on them, in english, french and spanish, which is an odd combination of warning languages for the nation state of estonia. yellow triangles depict flames, fingers being sliced off, more flames, and so on, biblical scenes. beyond this, it is the standard experience. it is still quite light out, i pace about a bit outside while waiting. a man, walking his small dog, the dog is wearing a jacket, and seems a little too playful, coddled, something like that, he attempts to tie it to a pole and goes inside a building. a different dog approaches a minute later, and the small dog manages to break loose just as the man exits the building. good timing. inside the laundromat, i wrote a bit on the blog post, a man entered and had a 10 minute phone call, no problem. the dryer did not fully dry my clothes, so i will be hanging some stuff to dry inside the hostel room, bad etiquette, but what can i do. on the way back, my phone percentage numbered about 3. on an empty street, a man walking the opposite direction, on the opposite walking way, was loudly Snarling and muttering russian to nobody in particular. good encounter, thanks. in the hallway, the kitchen, i spotted this machine, a toothbrush-dispenser, coin-operated, inviting one to 'colour your smile with white teeth and peppermint'. the part of the machine where, i think, a toothbrush would be ejected, is labelled with a speech bubble, 'LOOK AT YOUR TOOTHBRUSH'. a contact email, all the way at the bottom, like any good punchline, reads scandia.baltic@gmail.com. you may consider sending them fanmail about this teeth-box aswell. i am considering just staying somewhere else tommorow and forfeitting my money spent here, we will see, it might not be worth it.

22/05/2026 @ tallinn (ee)

at this time of year, in this part of the world, the sun rises at about 4 in the morning. i woke up by circadian mechanism around that time. the man laying next to me, who previous evening told me about his love of hockey, and football, which i now realize is possibly caused by me laying out the west-ham-united towel-thing i brought as an emergency item, it does not dry very well, i believe it is made to be a gym towel, a gift from a friend in london, a reward, even, for attending a west-ham-united match with him, that man was seen putting on his high-visibility clothing at around that time, or possibly shortly after, i cannot exactly remember. combine this with creaky beds, i did not sleep much in the early night, but slept well in the late morning, as the people here got up and left to go work. i fully got up at about 10, and was about ready to leave by 11. the showers in this place are surprisingly good, spaceous, though the cabin i had picked was missing its top shower-head, making it spew out water into the air, like a low-powered fountain, for a few seconds, after i turned the shower dial the wrong way. the dial is one positioned as a handle pointing up, which can be rotated ninety degrees either to the left, or to the right, making the full range 180 degrees, a half circle descending up from the horizon. i was supposed to turn it left, lesson learned, nobody else was there to notice my mistake. i did not feel under-slept. as i was leaving, the cleaning team was busy in the kitchen-hallway. i passed the six refrigerators, near the end of the hall, and noticed a phone screen propped up on the fourth, showcasing four cctv feeds, it looked like, black-white corner-views of rooms. odd.

near the tram stop, i wait by the lights, many vehicles are passing. a good deal of trucks and vans roll by, a tractor even, common sightings on the road, it being 10 am on a working day, all occupants of which were wearing high-vis clothing, these might well be my room-mates. it is a friday, i thought, i hope elder freestone will send me another message about the shabbath by the end of the week, that would be nice. i need to write about my interview with him over the phone aswell, though not today. i enter a passing tram and exit at the train station. it is raining this morning, so there are less people around the old town, my mind said, we will walk around there. there were less people than you might expect, but still quite a few. it is very pretty, there is a large brick wall extending accross a hill, housing also, a defensive tower, which one can climb up from a park. this park also contains a, very explicitely marked, private football court. it might have been tennis, actually, i am not sure, and it does not matter all so much, it is notable only for being the second place i have been severely confused by the extremely private, extremely agressively signed, fenced off area in an otherwise nice public park. many of the parks around the old town have more immense trees, making the place feel very Ancient, which it is, and also is not, the town of reval, better known as tallinn. overall, the old town is the old town, there are just a few too many people, and a few too many tourist shops, though it is incomparable to the Rape a place like prague has endured. overall, i liked it, and walked around probably all of it, not stopping to fully appreciate any of it for the sake of (1) looking too much like a tourist, and (2) the rain. a group of british people, about five, are heard in passing, being explainde that 'we could also stop and look at stuff', an example of what we call free will. a tour group, on the other hand, many old couples stumbling along, not enjoying their time as much, it is hard to tell sometimes with people of age, but in the tour group nonetheless, forced exposure.

on the map i had seen a small contemporary art museum, and so i visited. entrance was free, they explained, i made a free contribution, regardless, the exhibition on display was for a contest, five installations by different artists, vote who you liked best. i will elucidate two of these here: the entrance room, bathed in a somewhat dark pink light, contained several figures dressed in pink ghilli-suits, holding pink rifles, one looking down from a square hole at the top, pointing their pink rifle at a different one, who was pointing it at nothing. toward the left wall, on the ground, diamond-embossed and anime-sticker laden pink rifles, of various makes, lay scattered in a pile, with another suit, and a kind of cloth hangs from the rafter. at the right wall, a screen loops a video. our creator is in a field, various locations, performing interchangibly first-person-perspective counter-strike-global-offensive gun inspection animations on the pink rifles, interlaced with video footage of a pink smoke emenating from an abondoned concrete shack, presumed to be a pink-smoke-bomb. at a higher floor, one enters a room with a concrete floor, angled about 30 degrees downwards. several identical mechanical instruments, orange, upside down v-shapes, are affixed to the floor, aligned in length down the ramp, each with three motors which, seemingly at random, pulse upwards, then fall back down, creating a wiggling movement of the rods attached to them. i cannot tell you much about the others, i was too captured by these two, which is how art works, generally, you see it, you like it. i liked the pink gun-showcase the most, and i voted for it.

next then, i bought something small to eat, had two espressos and ate outside in the rain afterwards, getting physically harassed by four different varieties of birds in a park with a lake. they seemed summoned out of nowhere, one of the small hovering bird varieties even attempted to fly directly at my croissant and bite off a piece of it. so rude. i left them nothing, and continued toward the other large art museum in tallinn, located on the grounds of an old manor park, including the manor building itself. in both structure and colour, white and red, it had reminded me of the town hall in sint-truiden, though i have no reason to compare it to that, there are many more red and white buildings that look like this, which are a better match. there are several permanent exhibitions, estonian art history, it was good, but i have nothing to say, except that there seemed to be a trend of severely homoerotic scenes of men, naked, wrestling or hunting together, the energy of the people, or the specific curator, i cannot say. along this, i visually enjoyed the interwar pieces the most, early modernism, the like. on the top floor, a temporary-contemporary showcasing, many artists, a few works from each, the theme, art in the age of artificial intelligence, something like that anyway, off-putting title, and the best pieces here were more about general technology-exposure than directly related to 'artificial intelligence'. one installation, pertaining to the idea of Milk as cultural signifier, beyond its use as a drinking consumable commodity, used one large 'screen', made up of many led lights in a grid, while still being see through, alongside four repurposed apothecary signs, the plus-shaped ones, that will display, among other things, animations to draw in customers, the time, and the weather, a cultural staple, for no reason at all. these four signs were used to display the same text or images, while the main screen showed images or text, one would show image, the other text, never at the same time. it was very well put together, seperated into different pieces, noted by a cut that fully darkened the entire room for ten seconds or so, containing digital animations of milk being poured, alongside angelically toned music, spoken word on the purity of the substance, a baby speaking about the health benefits of Milk in jargon-flooded, rhythmic-rhyming. a video is playing in one room, a man narrates his journey of finding a single picture of his wife on google maps, she never wanted to be photographed, and, when he finds one, his intensified search along all corners of the world, where she could not possibly be seen. it contains low-poly geometry background footage of places like the pyramids, petra, angkor-watt, various cities around the world, edited over with washed-out, dreamy look, and music to match. one exhibition placque, introducing the artist and their work, invokes the name of baudrillard, explains the abstraction-copying thought he outlined, then invokes the desert, we are living in the desert of the real, which, i am almost sure, is not something baudrillard ever wrote, but still, baudrillard, baudrillard mentioned! we do all of this mentioning, and pointing to deserts, to show you three near identical images, black and white desert paintings, overlayed with, what i believe to be, macos icons for File and Folder, as seen in the desktop environment on macos-enabled devices. not worth the baudrillard mention, i think, it has almost nothing to do with what i am looking at, it is not interesting enough, visually, to enable the placque to invoke the specter of baudrillard, unless i have been fooled, it is a meta-commentary on name dropping, using baudrillard himself to show that even baudrillard is not safe from being turned into a sign, a reference point, able to be hoisted to the stage, representing nothing of its substance, a pure vessel for the signs of Knower, Intellectual, Critic. my favorite part of the whole floor was a two-couch and large projector screen set up, showing a low-quality, visually, but high-effort, high-detail, three-dimensional-animation of over an hour and a half, made from stitching together scenes the artist wrote down in a dream book over the course of many years. they chose to represent themselves as wearing a pink cap that says !XANAX!, though i cannot say if that arrives from an earlier scene i did not catch. by this time it was getting close to 6pm, the museum would be closing, i had no time to catch the full story. on the top floor of the museum is a coffee machine, it is, for no reason at all, in dutch. i read the words, AFVALBAK LEGEN, and so now, the streak is zero days. whatever.

exiting the museum, i walked about the gardens some more, and found a grocery store a bit north, toward the sea. i bought some nuts, carrots, a pot of hummus, to eat with the carrots, and a single pear, intending to eat by the dock-water. as i arrived, i just about caught one ferry boat arriving, and another about halfway across the visible horizon-line. i had my food, three things of note happened. two young lads, one of them very obviously looked at my cool farsi sweater, tapped his friend on the shoulder, told him something, the other fully craned his head backwards. i gave him a little smile, yes, yes, i know, it is the greatest sweater of all time, i know, a time before this, two people walk by speaking estonian, two middle aged women, going a little something like xyz anthropic abc ai qwe. ongoing throught those, i had watched a bird land on the water, in the path of the waves crashing to the small beach to my right. it seemed to be sitting there for no reason at all, except to get bobbed up and down by the waves, even swimming toward the bigger ones as they approached. cute. looking to fill in my evening, i looked for a cinema, i had not seen a film in a bit. a newer japanese film had an eight pm showing, named 'kokohu', three hours long, at the artis cinema, i did not read what exactly it was about. it turns out, the film is about the art of 'kabuki' acting, in which a male theater actor performs elaborate geisha-dancery and acting, following the very turbulent life of one man, reaching his highs and lows. it was pretty good, dragged a bit toward the end, probably should not have been three hours, but as i understand, it is a retelling of a very long book, so this makes sense. the scenes of our lead characters performing on stage, to the tune of the accompanying drum-beating stick-clapping traditional music, are very well executed, probably the best part of the film, the story itself is a bit questionable. i returned home afterwards, and it is now 1:30 am, i still have to edit some pictures. until the next day.

23/05/2026 @ narva (ee)

the man sleeping to my left got up at three in the morning with his high-visibility jacket. three on a saturday. what is that. by 11, as i was getting ready to leave, he was back! eight hours had passed! what lives we could lead, given the time. he said hello to me, as best his english could, as i drank a sip from the last cup of instant coffee my container could produce, burning my tongue slightly, i waved hello back, following it with a subdued hallo a second or two later. friendly guy. we made it two nights without being robbed here. they are just people, working, getting through their days, what exactly makes me afraid of these people, except that they are leading different lives? they are, somewhat out of shape, middle aged, russian speaking, males, yes, and they do look at me funny for being there, some of them do, exceptionally swagless, all of them, cannot blame them, whatever, why afraid.

i would go a bit west, there was a nature area and beachfront there, wishing have a look, a gander, eat, buying some hummus, bread, croissants, water, bags of mixed nuts at the tram-stop-store, and walkes over, along some grassy tram tracks, then through a park, walking with the backpack some more, malnourished, tired, who could have expected, everything hurts. i have to note, they do not seem to have a nut-and-berry culture like back home here. you can find them, yes, but they typically come in larger bags, are lower quality, more expensive, and so on. it is fine, it tastes the same, and it is still five hundred calories per hundred grams. these were on sale, so i bought one extra than i normally might, distant dutch genetics calling, beckoning.

the beach had many people sunbathing in its vicinity, doing whatever people do at the beach, which includes sitting on the bench on your phone, or walking around, generally, being both red, and shirt-less. i layed under a tree, propping the backpack against it, giving me a soft surface to use, and enjoyed my pick-nick-breakfast-lunch. i could not see the the sea from my position, i wished for some shade, the only place it was found, behind hills. that is alright. it allowed me to see people walking by, one man pushing a stroller, playing (presumably) estonian rap music from a speaker, taps his hands along the beat-line, using the handholds as a drum, perhaps. from this shoreline, you can see the crescent shape of the mainland, and then, further out, a forested island, a nature reserve. there are no birds in this area. too busy.

i left for a forest area marked on the map, many people there also, it is a saturday, it is sunny, they are bar-be-quing, many of them. an american voice is heard, urging his children, 'lets go kiddos. follow me.' kiddos. i walked straight through the park, encountering mostly people on their way to join the mass. it would have been a nice place to walk had it not been so busy. small, also. i end up near a strange concrete building, what i think was a hospital of some kind. the cracked roads are overgrown with grass, several benches crowd around a sma shelter, what looks like a long unused bus stop. two people sit, opposite, though not speaking. i continue, reaching more small roadways without sidewalks, a rusted frame for a swing stands in a field, mostly overgrown, two brick pillars, holding up nothing, with nothing visible they would be holding up. the road leads me through some trails, first past some more concrete structures, then to a wide open field, overflowing with dandelions, high grass, which looks directly into a rusted fence, securing the territory of a cracked parking lot, with a kind of logistics building, loading bays, the like, attached to it. before i know it, a regular road, houses, and a single building, tucked in a corner, which housed all the neighbourhood graffiti, reading in part 'LOVE GUCCI MANE', 'SS', and, this one is translated from estonian, 'PROSTITUTION SERVICE 56307341'.

further ahead, the main road, featuring a fenced in area with gravestones, advertising the sale od these, i forget the website name, this being placed next to a car-wash-gas-station, nay, two seperate car-wash-gas-stations, even! a man without an arm walks by. a store-complex houses a coin-slot operated bathroom, i outsmart it by manifesting a person exiting, which they do. i buy some salad and kiwis, for dinner, i suppose. i have a train to the eastern city of narva today, at four in the midday, it was about two in the midday now, i would make my way back to the city proper, the harbor. i had planned to perform a special event, but this will have to wait until i pass through tallinn again. you will know it when i mention it. i was close to the ferry terminal, people watching for a time, mostly suitcase carriers. a group of four walked up to this large N-shaped sign, two splintered off winding up a throw-away camera, before, of-course, asking somebody to take their picture. on the way back to the station, a group of eight, what i think to be finnish, visitors, opening a 24-tray of beer cans on the street.

again on the train to narva, i opened up the interrail application, without even a chance to show the conductor, i was asked to where, and was printed me a zero euro ticket. one could get around this country and latvia ten times over without paying a fine, i reckon, if the application is recreated faithfully. a woman sat in my diagonal view has a dog, wearing a full muzzle, my first thought, probably that thing should not be on a train, though it seemed very subdued the whole ride, the woman looked at the dog almost the entire two point something hours. after about an hour, something strange, a woman with a weaved-hair-structure, only the weaved pair of which was white, enters. i am seated in the far right corner of a six-seat. for no reason at all, in this reasonably empty train, this woman decides to sit directly opposite me, there is never enough space in these kind of seats to sit comfortably opposite another person, she physically pushed her feet against mine. i looked at her, asking, visually, what are you doing, and eventually just sat down at the other corner after using the bathroom. she got the seat she wanted. enjoy. i wrote most of this post on that train ride. a man to the right in the four seater, large arm tattoos, phone using, is wearing a kind of slipper with small white socks. he first puts the slipper on the seats in front, eventually, fully taking both slippers off, sitting with one foot on his own chair, the other on the metal radiator grating. at least four seperate people severely looked at him in passing for this, he was too busy on the phone to notice. he made the classic mistake of getting up when the announcer called that we are arriving in narva, causing him to stand up at the doors for eight minutes as the train slow-rolls across the railyard into the passanger station.

narva is a city which lies right on the border with the russian federation. there is a river, everything across the river is in russia. when walking a bit north from the station, you encounter castle-structures, with a border bridge in between. you could have a really fun border dispute here. narva, as a city, is inhabited by russian speaking people, being destroyed in world war two, rebuilt during the soviet era, with only russian emigrants allowed to resettle it. there are many appartments here, a beautiful orthodox church by the train tracks, i could just about spy it in between rusting cargo lines. my sleeping room in narva is a building literally by the train tracks, very cheap, i get a private room. i will be using this private room to sleep. really sleep. i am tired. tommorow we will see the town of narva some more, i did walk around for an hour or so when i arrived.

24/05/2026 @ tallinn (ee)

in the morning, i had walked about the north side of narva some more, view pretty picture, when elder freestone messaged me about estonia, how is it, to which i replied, all is well, i am in the city of narva, a border town, it is cool, i have friends in narva! you should visit at the church! hariduse 18 would be the address, say hello to sister miner, 'sister miner is the goat', i was informed back. the mormonism threadline is reaching an apex, surely, the third mormon encounter, three different countries. say no more, i told elder freestone, and i made my way over, stopping to buy some water at a convenience store. i arrive at the mormon church at about 11:50, it is in a small small two-story building of which the lower floor is the church, marked by a sign at the back door, which elder freestone had instructed me to use. opening the door, i could hear an ongoing talk in the first room to the left, though i waited on entering this room at first, not wishing to disturb what is probably a sunday mass, leaving me to look about the hallway for a time.

the hallway goes the length of the building, several rooms dot the left and right hand sides, marked by numbers on the door. on the right by the entryway hangs a noticeboard, containing various illustrations of jesus christ, alone, and jesus christ, appearing before a nondescript pre-colombian south-american temple, in a jungle. the same proclamation, a page of introduction to the beliefs of the mormon church, hangs in a 2x2 formation, as i can, in russian, estonian, and two other languages, likely lithuanian and latvian. the top of the noticeboard contains two russian words, printed in black ink, comic sans ms font. by the left of the door, a hand sanitizing station, a relic of a different time. in the mass, i can hear an older man speaking in estonian, which a younger man translates to russian. the clock strikes twelve, a piano is activated, a song is sung, i cannot make out which. mass seemed to be concluding, people are heard geting up, the clinging of two seperate sets of keys, i catch one of the young american looking men with a badge in the hallway, soon joined by his second. these were elder wooter (really) and elder whatshisname, i have forgotten, my bad, wooter is from texas, they are both, of course, wearing a suit, a russian name tag. they explain, we have just had the sacrament, there is a second hour, you are free to join. at the other end of the hallway, where i placed my backpack and held bags, there is a table containing pamphlets, several copies of The Book, estonian and russian, and a green book i did not recognize, more pamphlets are held, in a pamphlet-holder, wall-mounted. a television and a whiteboard are seen being rolled from a back room, through the hallway, into the mass chamber. the whole aesthetic of the building, Youth Center, Underfunded School. a kitchen is installed in a right-side room, chairs line the walls, somebody is preparing a salad-bowl. the other doors were closed, i could not say what is there, how dearly i wish. we enter the mass-hall.

several unknown characters greet me, handshakes, russian greetings. i spot a young woman, wearing a name tag, and one of those flowery sun-dresses, the feminine counterpart to the suit-and-tie, in terms of missionary costume-ing. would your name happen to be sister miner, sister miner, yes, that is me! i recount, elder freestone, my readings, the dauvagpils miracle, the message about the church in narva, here i am. she asked me some questions, i explained about my travelling shortly, a very upbeat character, from virginia, toward the east of america. i did not speak to her partner much, she seemed the senior partner in the duumvirate, which there always seems to be. a middle-aged man is present, speaking a british accent, reflective hiking sunglasses, hand tattoos visible, light paint marks on his jacket. he was getting ready to leave, only here for the sacrament, i suppose, he offered a fist bump, 'you are looking very grunge, cool, long hair and that, i thanked him, reciprocating the fist bump, he was gone as fast as he arrived into my life, i wish i could have gotten his story before he left. the next hour would be an odd one, i was explained by sister miner, we are hosting some church leaders, a presentation will be given for the first part about some changes to church operations. mormon logistics, my main interest! a miracle, surely. most members in attendence have a hand held audio receiver, yellow, marked with a white tag, reading TALLINN, a single earpiece is attached by cord. used with a microphone transmitter, russian translation. normally, they just speak russian, special occasion, the speakers are from tallinn today.

the room contains in total five rows of 4 chairs, the walkway gap, another four chairs. the television has taken a center stage, standing on a row of tables toward the front, leaving some room at either end, on the left side, the boundary line is closed by a piano facing the room, heard played previously, on the other side, the gate to this encampment. behind the tables, at the wall, four chairs are lined up, unoccupied for this session. the hour starts, a russian powerpoint presentation is opened. what ends up happening, the speaker speaks estonian, a woman translates into a microphone, which the senior elder receives into his listening device, giving me a rundown of what is being spoken about. i come to learn that the structure of a mormon mass is to be so: sixty minute sacrament, five minute intermission, twenty-five minute male and female lessons, seperate, 'because there might be things more, uhm, helpful, to the females, and so on' (approximate quote), five minute bridging time, twenty-five minute joint lesson, containing a discussion on recent writings by one of the apostles or similar transmissions from the church, or otherwise direct study on passages from the bible or book of mormon. you can give these lessons however is appropriate, they give some examples, they give some reasons, i wonder what the previous structure looked like. as an example, we would discuss the recent writing by one if the apostles. my elder guide asks me if i had read it, no, you can get a phone application, they have all the church transmissions. one of the sisters pulls it up on her phone, i quickly read the document. i spied a tiny bit of ai-coded wording, this is not x, it is y, et-cet-era, nothing major. it went a bit like so: our luggage is very important to us, we do not want to lose luggage, they do this well in japan, we are gods luggage, he sends us away to earth, hoping we will be returned well. it read like the man had happened to hear an anecdote about luggage handling in japan, an engagement farming twitter post, probably, and decided it was good enough to wrap some general church messaging around, do good unto others, and so on. it would have been more interesting to talk about it in terms of the churches role as baggage handlers, gods chosen baggage handlers, entrusted with returning his objects safely, but this angle was missed. i did not comment on this, there was no appropriate time to do so.

eventually, this part ends, and i am invited join a lunch by sister miner, i have the time. people gather into the kitchen-esque room, a prayer is said over the salad and sausages, i only had some salad, excusing myself by vegetarianism, i sit down at a wall-chair and exchange more question-answer with sister miner, general questions, some discussion about belgium, her own home, mormon logistics, my own interpretation of the book and religion in general. she told me she knows people around north belgium and the netherlands, from back home, during the missionary school all missionaries attend for two months, where they get instructed generally on what to do, as well as starting their language studies, i could visit them, 'make the circle round'. sister miner gets it, she understands, intelligent, and, i felt anyway, clocking quite quickly i am a non-believing person more so here for the experience, a fun experience, without ill intent. i believe religion can be good, if it makes you a better person, all the better, i had explained. i asked about coffee, and the like, having a vague memory about it being forbidden, and learned that a revelation from god to joseph smith, named the Words of Wisdom, forbids against tobacco, alcohol, and 'hot drinks'[sic], which is interpreted to mean coffee and tea, though herbal tea is permitted, it is about the caffeine, i suppose. i read online some more about this, there seems to be discussion about the interpretations, some people refuse even hot water, others argue that cold coffee or tea should be allowed, according to scripture. the leadership has clarified, 'the only official interpretation [...] is [...] that the term "hot drinks" means tea and coffee.'. sorted then, though i really felt like having an espresso, anyway. i imagine a similar debate was held over nicotine pouches, can you make a mormon-legal nicotine pouch by synthesizing the nicotine from scratch? the answer is no, vaping is banned also. a desert was served, some kind of rhubarb pastry with whipped cream. some more general talk about life, studies, and so on. come time to leave, i handshake with some more of the people i now know to be church leaders in the area, mostly older people, one black american couple, strangely, judging from the accents. i was by the table of pamphlets, and i acquired another piece to adorn my walls back home, a pamphlet for the narva branch of the church of jesus christ of latter day saints, featuring a picture of the very building. i did take another one, as it was in russian, and i thought it was funny, to which i was offered an english version, 'you can start studying russian!', i should, i should. i bid my farewells, thank you for having me, if you are ever in narva, do come back! i probably would, as well. still wonder who the british hand tattoo guy was.

very happy with my encounter, i made my way to a nearby lidl, buying assorted items, fruits, nuts, you know the deal by now, a grey baguette and hummus, you can always count on the lidl, they will have these items. i walked to the riverside, intending to find a place for lunch-breakfast. the river has, over time, created a large valley. i followed some trails down to the water, then back up to a promising looking hillside, followed some wooden boardwalks, and eventually found a tall stone hill, perfect. i make my way up, there are perfectly situated sitting-height stones, convenient. premier hangout spot, noted so by the small number of glass shards and cigarette buds strewn about. to the front, i gaze upon russia, a hydro-electricity looking building, a bit to the left, a large power substation, to the right, in the distance, another border-bridge, adorned with barbed wire, closed for now, i suppose. one can see a fence lining the riverbank, border protection, though this did not stop one man over on the russian side, just about arriving as i did, to sit by the water lightly hiding himself behind some rocks from the watchtowers lining the dam-thing. behind my back, the castle is visible. many seagulls are flying around, the sun reflecting off the streaming river, the occasional strong wind. it is a beautiful place in the world for somebody with my sensibilities, nature and hard industry colliding, but creating something harmonious. i sat there for an hour or more while eating lunch. on a rocky beach area to the right, was at first a family, then later, two uniformed men, green uniforms, not army, but not police. they seemed to inspect the site, one dips his boots into the water slightly, washing off some mud, i reckoned, the other gazes up at me for a few seconds. i got a bit scared for a second that i was not supposed to be up here, but they continued on along the wooden boardwalk. eventually, two teenagers, alt-variety, came up the hill, they gave a wavey greeting and sat down, some cans were heard. i could not picture a more blessed sunday. i left for the south eventually, following the waterline.

the south of narva contains neighbourhoods that are best alikened, visually, to british council estates, adjacent, red-brick family houses, wide open streets with little to no sidewalk, occasionally. one garden was decorated with all sorts of ornaments, garden-gnomes in the form of worms, ponies, and so on, signs of life. eventually, i came across the building i was looking for, the manufactory, a titanic building, which was a major textile manufacturing plant, the largest in the world, at a time, i read i online. it was mostly fenced in, visits on appointment, so i gazed from the outside. this whole area had many abandoned buildings, and many fences with the logo of Rapid Security, of which an office building is also found in the same neighbourhood, convenient. there are some towers, general hopeless atmosphere, i suppose. there is always one part of the train tracks that feels neglected, somehow. i made my way back north now, my train is leaving in an hour. narva was great. if you are in estonia, go to narva, pop in to the mormon church, why not. sit on the hill, you could find it! i believe in you! i stopped to buy some water at a grocery complex, as well as using their bathroom, which had a funny construction, the room contained a toilet seperated by at least three quarters of a meter from the wall, one could have a leisurely walk around the thing, as well as a positively oversized sink. the cleaning-schedule paper is completely empty, though it clearly does get cleaned, a failure of bureaucracy. attached video, watch it. at the train station, a bit of a strange encounter, a train is on the tracks, but you must walk through the station building to get to the tracks, everything else is fenced off, on account of it being a border station. there is a passport control here! cool. the doors were locked, however, with many people waiting, so i sat outside for another ten minutes, and boarded afterwards. on the train, i mostly slept some more, as well as writing down my mormon experiences for the day. i am spending another night in tallinn, not sure where to go afterwards, sister miner informed me parnu, a western coastal city, is worth visiting, i should go there, so i will, probably, do that, before moving on to finland. my accomodation is in a hostel in the old town, a party hostel. on the way there, a dutch person is heard speaking about 'de spaanse vlag', there is no hope left, i cannot win. i was offered a shot of Something at entry, which i did partake in, why not, before resigning myself to a couch to write these words. probably just go to sleep by midnight today, try to get up relatively early, there seems to be a lack of shower rooms for the amount of people, i will wish to avoid the mass. it is an old building, very soulful, some of the old inside ornaments are well preserved. a russian man asks me for a lightning charger cable, i do not own it, 'ah.' there seemed to be a confrontation, two men did not have reservations, something like this, it was mostly in russian. they are asked to leave, an extended conversation, one of the men calls a shorter asian employee 'jackie chan', the only part of the conversation i can understand, he says something about it, 'xyz jackie chan xyz?', the russian man repeats the statement about six times, a bit threatening. eventually, they figure the jig is up, offer a very forced Sorry with a handshake. as they leave, one of them remarks, 'next hotel, no problem'.

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25/05/2026 @ helsinki (fi)

i got up around 9, having slept very poorly, for no reason i can exactly pin down. the bunk beds were very comfortable, long even, i could almost lay down completely straight. i did not talk to anybody, really, my roommate guessed i was leaving from me packing the bag back up, then guessed i was british, side effect accent-osmosis from long term british exposure, i explained, kind of, no further conversation was had. one instant coffee, and i left for breakfast, three croissants and a take-out americano in the park, the best i could do. i walked about the south town some more, looked at Building some more, able to gaze at them better without the rain, though, others could also, creating a marked spike in tourism-activity, forcing me to dodge into the street as yet another group of four stops to window-shop at a store selling key-chains, post-cards, and fridge-magnets. the whole place is good, a few too many british, more dutch was heard, of course.

it turns out that there are no trains to parnu. i would have to take a bus, a lux-express line, the same aesthetic of the aldi house-brand Deluxe, use The word, make it look at first glance expensive, everything works itself out. i did not feel like taking a bus, nor did i have any idea of where else in estonia i specifically wanted to go. i decided, i will just take the boat then, and go to helsinki. two nights, for now, a well rated hostel, by the central station, thirty something euros per night, on the more expensive side, but it is a capital city. i enjoyed estonia a great deal, i think i might come back sometime. the baltics are concluded, and with it, likely, the baltic mormon chapter, with any luck there will be a new arc in winland. i visited a shopping centre to buy some lunch, the boat would take about two hours, leaving at one-thirty, though i noted i had to be there by at least twelve-fifty, for the check in process, it closes at one. i made my way over by tram, waiting by a rotating bridge in between the terminals, seemingly open for no reason. i imagine some of these bridges are just on a timer, with red lights and green lights, while others are specifically opened for passing ships after a request is made, this was the former, and i do not even know if that is an accurate statement. by the terminal entry, i stood for a bit, taking in some sun, i had plenty of time, i witnessed a mass of people unloading luggage from a coach bus, they had just arrived, and immediately crowd around a city-sight-seeing bus, you know the type, red, yellow marketing in a childish font, an open upper deck, they have them in every big city, a not-quite copy, reference, to the red london busses, marketed to exactly the kind of people that want to drive around a city, list-based check-mark travelling, yes, we saw the harbour, then the cathedral, and the parliament house, and, and, and still made it in time for lunch at 'LOCAL FOOD TALLINN RESTAURANT', the branding has five stars under it, which means it is a good restaurant, a staple, even, in the local culinarosphere, the locals eat there, it is in the name, we got so much done today, i cannot wait for hotel breakfast tommorow. regardless, they enjoy it, i hope they do. what do i care, anyway?

the ship terminal has the exact people mechanics of the airport. hurry, panic, wielding exorbitant amounts of luggage, boarding has begun, immediately, a blob forms, heads facing the door, standing, somebody might even get up from their seat to sit down in the blob, and, when it eventually opens, you get to queue in two lines, slowly walking through some tunnels, annoyed, and contributing, to the pace. the boat does not leave for thirty minutes, though, you do not actually need to scan a ticket or anything after entering the gates area, you just walk on to the boat, which i found strange, it speeds the whole process up quite a lot, but, one could surely buy a ferry ticket, wait in the lobby, and board a boat to stockholm, which i saw on a board, departs from the same terminal? alongside this, another quirk of the interrail ticket discounting, you get a relatively small discount on the boat tickets, about twenty percent, but, when i had to show my ticket at check-in, they simply asked to see the expiration date, for about one second. permanent discounts with the fake interrail app. are the north-people more trusting, by default, not as logistically minded, or, even, they know about these holes in the system, but it is priced in, not worth the time-effort-cost of halting, applied sociology says, perhaps, many people are like me, they will figure this out, they will point it out, but they would never actually exploit it. when the blob had thinned sufficiently, i got up to join the slow-walk, you had to be through the actual gates by one-ten.

the gate two boarding tunnel, at terminal D, tallinn, is made up of a lower floor and upper floor. within the lower floor of the gate two boarding tunnel, at terminal D, tallinn, one can look at over one hundred unibet advertisements, identical rectangular signs, hanging from the rafters above, about three paces removed from one another. upon climbing the stairs, about two thirds of the total walking length from the gate, these are replaced by advertisements for something called 'ninja casino', slightly larger, spaced further apart, though not by much, the hanging signs above now accompanied by floor stickers below. you cannot look away, you must stand in front of the television set, and shout draftkings dot com your favorite sportsbook. there are many police officers standing at various points, doing that thing they love to do, hands resting around the pectorals inside a vest, looking menacing, by menacingly looking, i counted a group of five at one doorway. i enter the ship, fully time-lapping the people who opted for the slow-rolling flat escalators and regular escalators, completely packed, instead of the near empty stairways. some very airport-esque behaviour occurs, being the shameless walking in front of you, stepping halfway on your feet, not even turning around for an apology, we are already through boarding, what are we hurried for, it is fine, enjoy your vacation, enjoy your vacation, enjoy your vacation, you are human, we are all human, i truely believe this, you are a human person, conscious and alive, please enjoy your vacation, you have deserved it. in front of me walks a young woman with a suitcase, and a pair of pants made out of synthetic fibres as of yet unknown to the public, glistening. on entering, i take a left, looking around a bit, and am immediately greeted by a cut-out not-quite room. containing six slot machines, lined three by two, walkway in the middle. there are already multiple lads operating the machines five minutes post-board. when i walked past another time, there was a man continually extending a card to the front of a reader, retracting, extending. no idea what he was doing. i chose an open seat, i suppose this was a reason to try and enter first, you get to claim a stake, a plot of land, a territory, some of which is clearly better than the others. i sat by a walkway in a seat that was a little too low, they typically are, for me, at least. there was a veritable mountain of luggage, a group of spanish speakers. they continually would come, go, in groups of two, speak some stuff to the current watch-person on duty of this colourful hoard, often times severely stepping into my personal space. on this boat, there were many people with canes, or, the same few caned-persons walking by, many times over, seen from the corner of my eye. i started reading, on the advice of council, a book called pandaemonium the coming of the machine as seen by contemporary observers, a collage of writings over the period 1660 to 1886, in broad strokes about the industrial revolution in england, the way it changed the way people looked at, and put to word, their experience of the world around them. i finished another book called 'the one-dimensional man' from herbert marcuse earlier in the week, it is good, i recommend it. one man is seen constructing a powerpoint, somebody slowly spins about in a spinning-chair for at least ten minutes straight, and many shorter intervals, also.

we arrive in helsinki, we buy a three-day metro ticket using the local application, i am collecting these things on my phone over time, there are about seven on my phone now, most of which required an account, also. i will need to remember to have those deleted. i get off at the google-maps ordered stop, walk to the hostel, input some door codes, get a tour, inside my room, it is three-thirty in the afternoon, two men are in bed, curtains closed, this is a nice hostel, you get curtains. overall, it seems all well, a lounge area to sit in later, which is now. i place down my bags, and leave to walk around for a bit. i have to note that, we have a new injury to report, the middle of my right foot, something in the bones, about where the leg meets the rest of the foot, it is probably nothing, the cycle continues. if i just walk on it more, it actually heals faster, something in my dreams told me about this. i walked due north, there is a lake there, passing the parliament building, yes i did see the parlimant house! i did see it! along some random monuments, eventually sitting down by the water, close to the opera house, a paved but thankfully neglected part, with a bench. some people are sitting by the water, on the phone, conversing, staring. a man arrives with a camera, takes some pictures, leaves. across the water, a large white building of some kind is just about half-visible through the leaves, very pretty, likely, it is pictured. i sat some more, read some more, ate some assorted nuts and berries, of course, eventually, it was about five thirty, i pondered about dinner. on the map, i saw an island a bit to the west, named lauttasaari, served by a metro stop, the metro, i do love taking the metro, it had some green areas marked. my course, then, take a tram down to a metro station, it had a shopping centre nearby, i bought a salad to eat, and subsequently took the metro, very clean, very empty, helsinki has a metro, but it is really only one line that cuts straight through the city, the trams and busses do the rest, so not many people really use it, i suppose, unless you are going from one end of the city to the other. i arrived in lauttasaari, and made my way first to a church marked, with a park area behind it. the church looked strange, a small building with a large hollow tower presenting a cross to the sky, it is pictured. behind this church-thing, the park area, a rocky-forested hill, a nice place to walk about in. the whole island seems to be mostly calm, residential areas. i climbed, walked, more so, to the top of the rocks, i have no knowledge of geology to describe the structure, they are mostly solid, sloped, even surfaces. by the top a monument, a cast of a world-war-two anti-air gun, or a real one, hard to say. nearby there, a wooden watch tower one can climb up to, children were heard playing, i left them to it, premiere spot for hanging about as a child growing up on the island of lauttasaari, no question. i continued on south, another green part of the map, an outcropping toward the sea. there were bungalows here, a sort of vacation-rental spot, by my guess, i passed by americans speaking to each other, on a stroll, un-willingly disturbing the peace with the decibelliture they produce by nature. i had another look at the map, i was at the wrong green outcropping than the one i originally wanted to go to, though i still sat by the rocky shore for a bit, on a half-broken stone dock. some boats are parked nearby, upturned. i opened my bottle of sparkling water, and got lightly sparkled upon, not paying full attention while opening it, which is a must. i have come to really enjoy drinking sparkled water over the course of this trip.

after a while, i continued onwards, following a gravel track that seems to run the perimeter of the island, most of it anyway. there were many joggers here, a surprising number of joggers compared to regular people walking by, though this is also caused by their speed, they pass me from behind, and in the timeframe, the odds are higher that a person at their velocity will encounter me from the opposing direction than a regular walker, somebody can write a proof for it, i do not know how. there were very strong winds this day, the weather-widget on duck-duck-go advised me, yellow warning for wind, wonder what the cut-off is for a warning about wind. the track around this part of the forest showed me more bungalows inside the green-area, not good for walking about in, but, the perimeter track was good. i found a large rock by a clearing and sat down, taking in the Power of Nature, by way of sitting directly in the wind while eating my salad, hiding the bowl behind my bags to prevent the pieces from flying out, though some still did. it was enjoyable, there is little to say. many people passed, joggers, dog-walkers, self-walkers, stroller-walkers. two people appeared, walked up the dock, and individually dipped into the probably quite cold water for a minute or so, before having a post-dip discussion and moving on, as i understand it, this a thing in nordic culture, they love extremes of the temperature. most of the small docks had a fence on them, PRIVATE, they tell me, some more agressively attempting to block you from walking on it. one of the docks had a simple wooden step, not a half meter above the ground, marked PRIVATE, some others, a single fence, the same width as the dock itself, one could very easily navigate around, by setting the foot around said fence, and some others, the more paranoid kind, a fence the width of the dock, and two more gratings on either side, preventing the foot-around-the-corner attack. they should put a whole cage on it, why not, more fitting. i had my dinner, sat for a time more, it was approaching nine now, and i was getting a bit cold. back to the metro station then. a bus just arrived as i got there, and some people were running up the stairs and out the door to catch said bus. a more general observation, there is a new technique in food-delivery driving, attached to the steering bar of the electric scooters, large hand-containers, for blocking the wind, making them not need to wear gloves to avoid frostbite, easier navigation of the phone, their modern whip-and-shackle application.

the hostel is right by the central station, so this is where i exited. i seated myself, writing this here now. no conversations are had, but three sightings worth mentioning. first, a woman with a clearly flemish dutch accent, from ghent, no question about it, speaks to somebody on the phone. there was no appropriate time for me to confirm by asking if she was indeed from ghent. second, an indian looking woman sits on the phone, scrolling, at some point speaking to somebody, right across from the table i sit. i can say with about a ninety nine point ninety nine percent surety this woman took a photograph of me, two, even, the phone was pointed upwards, not in a regular position one holds a phone, except to take an image, with the flash enabled, not realizing that it was so, then smiling to herself, using the phone keyboard to text somebody. caused by the arabic sweatshirt, probably. you could just ask. rude. enjoy your vacation, reservation for one at LOCAL FOOD HELSINKI RESTAURANT tommorow, enjoy your vacation. were it not for the generally calm atmosphere, about seven people occupying the space, i would have asked about it, but, whatever, nothing positive could have come of it. i did stare at her for about twenty seconds following this, and she left the area a short bit later. enjoy your vacation. thirdly, then, a woman has a business call, talking for a solid twenty minutes about 'bringing ai to market', 'they had like, five floors, all these tech companies, ai companies, they are building the future there', and so on. mesmerizing stuff. on a business trip, who stays at a hostel? most of them could not know how to make you an invoice for tax purposes.

26/05/2026 @ helsinki (fi)

the morning started rather slow, though i had rested well, i went to bed far too late. the atmosphere in the hostel lobby area is relaxed, some people eating in quiet, some people scrolling phones. default breakfast, i left by about twelve, having scouted a green area in the middle part of the city to walk about in for a while, it is marked with 'trail', being brown-coloured, lines on my mapping application, as opposed to that of a paved road, giving me much confidence this would be a piece of nature to walk about in, rather than a large park. the structure of this green-area, is about that of a sledge-hammer that has been overused, a long handle sticks out from the city, topped by an irregular circle. i would go to the southern tip and make my way up, there was a tram stop nearby, though i first walked to a nearby lidl, off we went from there, i left the tram two or so stops early to walk about this part of the city aswell, i had seen some funny store signs along the way, though i did not stop to photograph many. there is a specific quality to small-business-advertising in these parts of a city, weathered signs, not-quite catchy store-names, and so on, massage parlors, computer repair shops, et-cet-era. the nature area was quite nice, not more than a kilometer across, but with many opportunities for zig-zagging about trails, up and down rock-hills. i did not reach the hammer, nor did i feel the need to, content with where i was at. there were a good amount of people on the main path upwards, though i did not encounter more than a handful on the rock faces, their loss. quite often, clustered specifically around the world-war related building-ruin-sceneries, or simply random rocks, some good examples of graffiti. one of these, hello kitty, in swim wear, telling me to wave. it looked especically new, having been placed there at most a handful of weeks earlier. occasionally, the trail was intercepted by a roadway, allowing one to walk under the bridges, my favorite. view attached picture, perhaps even, view another. i rate the area highly, if you are in helsinki, go there, you will find the map-structure i have described, on your map. i had lunch at around two, then second lunch at around five, first, a bowl of rice with soy-sauce and various vegetables, second, bread and hummus.

having returned from my adventure, around six, i sat down at the hostel lobby to read for a bit, drink some coffee, unsure of what i would be doing the evening. i did not feel hungry, on account of irregular eating times, though i would in probably three hours, not an ideal time for dinner. there were a few people there, most seemed to be at work, or otherwise busy on a laptop, having taken an unoccupied seat by the corner of the room, at a table with a man in a checkered shirt, curly hair, doing something nondescript about a laptop, occasionally typing. he had said hello to me, something got stuck in his throat, the kind of choke-up where you do not realize your throat is lightly blocked up, grabbing for his water bottle afterwards to remedy the fact, shaking it to find it empty, then standing to fill it up. happens to the best of us. some time passed as i read. everybody in the room is quietly performing their Tasks, self-imposed or not. the american conference woman was heard again, loudly answering a phone call, this time having the fore-thought to step into the hallway after about ten seconds, though i could still overhear parts of the conversation happening, conference, clients, and so on. a man, seats himself, and begins a video call in arabic. he is giving english lessons, explaining sentences, concepts, to a student, in arabic, with the english translation. select instances include 'zephyr', explained as 'xyz Western Mythology xyz Wind God', and 'reindeer', two interesting concepts to hear in an english lesson alongside cases of '"i used to like" is different from "i liked"'

after about an hour, a figure in the doorway, i was unsure if he had just arrived or was just about to leave. he says something, a greeting, my name is mentioned, i look up to the door, who else but jonas from switzerland, alive, in the flesh. jonas from switzerland, first met in kaunas, lithuania, at a hostel, then by chance encounter on a train from riga to tartu, the baltic express from latvia to estonia, now, here, in finland, helsinki, at the hostel. he had arrived that midday. i could not contain my laughter. a true encounter. jonas from switzerland. we spoke for a bit about travel subjects, he brought up narva, to which i suddenly recalled, i must bring him up to speed on my adventures in mormonism, excusing myself to get something from the bedroom, being my book of mormon, by now adorned with a stack of pamphlets at the back pages. the church of jesus christ of latter day saints, narva branch , i was able to present him. this took the attention of one other person, before sitting quietly, and the checkered-man in front of me. apparantly, i had said hello to the one person in riga at some point, though i did not remember, they said, 'i know you', i assumed it truthful, and felt a bit rude for not remembering. the checker-man noted he had a mormon landlord once, he was an american, graham from florida, he would be called. jonas was on his way to go to the sauna, i do not enjoy getting naked with other people, and the plan was cancelled shortly afterwards anyhow, he could not get a towel as there was nobody at the reception to rent him one, he would just go tommorow. fish soup, it would be, he wished to have a dinner, from the market stalls, of fish soup, i would join him, good plan. by now we had a group of four, graham from florida was going out for something to eat anyway, he joined us for fish soup, the fourth person, i did not catch the name, along for the ride, but not looking to eat anything.

on the way, jonas was in charge of navigation, he had organised the excursion, i spoke to graham from florida some more. he was a music guy, had been to spain, portugal for a bit, and berlin, he had gone to berlin, he had gone to berghain, he had gone to tresor, my kind of guy, he would be going to a massive attack concert in sweden next week, after which his europe adventures would be about concluded. he is actually working in the meantime, this was his lunch break, at seven or so, he is working in the american timezone. we sit by a dock close to the market stalls, eating the oily, fish-y, soup. it was not very good, but not awful, either. a couple showed up at some point, carrying two plates of food. a mass of seagulls soon appeared, awakened by the cawing of one forefront messenger, flying low toward them, coming dangerously close to snatching the plates whole-sale away. the couple left in hurry, and the gulls did soon after, also. they had no interest in fish soup. our fourth had bid us farewell, intending to walk about some more, and graham followed, he had to get back to work. i walked about with jonas some more before we found our way home, visiting on the way first a convenience shop, where i found and purchased a Karhu beer, it has a bear as its logo, a finnish staple, then, a strangely large grocery store, located in the sub-floor level of a shopping complex, close to closing time, an odd atmosphere, generated by the lack of people and natural light. a public bathroom i entered contained a persons jeans, socks, and shoes, piled by the

at the hostel itself, nothing much interesting occured. our fourth travelling partner from earlier had returned, seated in the sofa. graham was, indeed, back at work. he types very little on the computer for the work he does, you get one guess, its software, of course, marketing platform for non-profit companies, okay. very Evil, i had remarked, mostly in jest, which he granted, but, there are worse things in the world. i sat with jonas for a bit, he ate some of his purchasings, not entirely satisfied with his market-stall fish-soup, i showed him the process of writing the blog, i showed him the file, singular, which houses all the text laid out before you here, where it is stored for semi-public viewing, how the images are created from my own phone-photography, and so on, a behind-the-scenes tour, market value, undefined, but probably high. contact for inquiry! no discount codes. graham was overheard having an 'alignment' with a co-worker, how i have not missed them, the term pr is invoked, technical details are discussed, the quest for simplicity can be oh-so complicated. jonas went to bed, was about to, when he heard much rowdy british speech eminating from his room, 'oh no', he had exclaimed, though they were just leaving. 'a good time to go to bed', he is right, it was probably the optimal time, with any luck he would be deeply enough into a rem cycle that half-waking from them re-arriving would not fully waken him. fare-well, and good night, i begin writing what you read here now, one image having already been produced during the behind-the-scenes, which is multi-tasking, not actually. today was a calm day, i have no need to describe any of the non-scenes that happened on the trails, i can only say, i enjoyed my time.

27/05/2026 @ turku (fi)

i got up in the morning, around nine, or half ten. the hostel had a keycard system for the doors to each dorm room, and, just when i had stood up, somebody knocked very lightly on the door, not enough to wake anybody up. it was the one remaining person also sleeping in the room, he had left his keycard. i did not question why he knocked so lightly, not awake enough to make conversation. i spoke some more with jonas from switzerland, he would be staying another day or so and go back to tallinn. jonas from switzerland, i have forgotten to mention this somehow, has acquired a visa, granting entry, to the democratic republic of the congo, yes, really. when jonas from switzerland returns to switzerland from his baltic adventures, he will shortly be in the congo. mesmerizing stuff, i hope he enjoys. there is an issue regarding an ebola outbreak, a new strain of the illness, i do not know if it is a bacteria or a virus, which probably will not cause him issue, it is in a different region of the country as the place he will be visiting, but it may cause angola to close the borders, he told me, from which his flight home would leave, along with being 'the escape plan', he informed me it has better infrastructure and so on, they would go to angola if the congo became too much. all the best, jonas, i wished him, along with a deep request to email me about his travels afterwards. i will likely never see this man again, jonas from switzerland, goodbye.

i left around twelve, having aten a three hundred gram bag of nuts and berries for breakfast, i need to stop doing that, and visited the helsinki art museum, the HAM, it is close by, at the ticket counter, i witnessed the payment terminal going into a restart cycle as i attempted to make my payment, twelve euros for the student-age people, it is twenty at full fare! expensive, it is not a large building. the ticket-counter-sales-person redirected me to the gift-shop, they can also sell tickets there, and so i did. i bought my ticket with success here, informing the gift-shop-sales-person they were having issues with the terminal upstairs. it must happen more frequently than typical, as they produced a sign from a corner of the room to place in front of the gift-shop entrance, tickets, an arrow pointing toward the entrance of the gift-shop. funny to witness. the small exhibition, which i guessed was a permanent one, talks about an helsinki-local artist family, known for many pieces of public-space artwork. it was not very interesting to an outsider, as art commonsioned en masse, specifically for display to the mass, is typically not very interesting. the other exhibition, from a polish artist, named abakanowicz, contained intricate wall sculptures(?) made from rope and fabrics. many of them, very large, hanging high from the ceiling, allowing one to walk around, others adorning the walls, all of them, very impressive in the texturing. one of them, for me, called to mind microscope images of neurons. another room contained later works, which were largely made up from actual sculptures made from burlap and hardened to stand upright, resembling an animal that does not really exist, but resembles something of an ant-eater, the others, headless figures with very small torsos. there were a great number of these, in various sizes, with their own personality, differences across the surfaces and proportion, as a whole arranged into several groupings. it reminded me of the terracotta army, somewhat. i enjoyed the helsinki art museum. as i exited, a smell in the air, a look at the clouds, strong winds covering the whole street, it was about to start raining quite hard. i took some shelter, it went from dry to hailing within about two minutes, it was the kind of strong rain that pulls in, attempts to overflow the gutters, and leaves as fast as it came. the weather radar said it would be about twenty minutes, i walked inside the shopping center nearby to possibly have a coffee. there was only one coffee-cafe in this five story building that i could find where it would not be machine-made, and so i left, by this time it was mostly dry anyway.

i continued to the amos rex complex, they had an exhibition promoted by billboards throughout the city, many pieces from local young artists, often their first displayed piece. entry to the amos rex is also, at full price, twenty euros, however! if you are: under thirty years old, unemployed, or a conscript of the army. i fit two of the categories, though i guessed that you would have to show some kind of unemployment-id from finland, and so only mentioned i was under thirty. the man behind the computer had to click about eight times to start the payment and register my entry, which he begrudgingly did, putting heavy pressure on the mouse-one button, the way one does when annoyed at the Computer. the whole exhibition was made up of fifty or so pieces, a mix of painting, installation, interactables, including small visual-novel videogames, housed in a large space beneath the ground. there were a very large amount of people in the space, much looking over shoulders and slow-walking to ensure i do not walk into people, moving about readable placques as to leave it readable to others, a skill not everybody values, it seemed. i did not interact with any of the interactables, there were simply too many people. but i did enjoy the whole. select pieces include: (1) an installation of discarded computer parts, mostly broken laptops, arranged in an open circle, starting from the ground, then higher, strung together by chargers and other cables, loose printed circuit boards, for various electronic devices, removed from their housing. i specifically enjoyed the way many of the laptops, thinkpads!, included stickers clearly eminating from repair-refurbishing houses, hand written notes containing thirty letter serial numbers for easy reading from storage, the like. there were sounds and visuals playing from a few still working laptops. (2) a few paintings accompanied by a droning audio work of seventeen minutes, which i listened to for five minutes straight, being slightly entranced, until a large group passed by speaking just a bit too loud, the spell was broken, and i moved on. (3) a plastic horse, hollow, the housing a kind of honeycomb pattern, being housed in its seperate space, behind a few walls and a curtain, dressed with what seemed to be latex strips with handwritten vietnamese text, a fan spins to make the strips wave in the wind, as well as spreading a strong odour of, what i think is, latex, into the air. come to think of it, the placque most likely mentioned the materials, it often doen, i did not read it in this instance.

it was about two forty when i left, went to leave anyway, it had started raining again. i went to the cafe in the same building and had an double espresso, i realized i had not had an espresso for a while, it was good, four euros, what do you expect from the large museum-gallery cafe, just under three in the midday now, i had nothing else i specifically felt like doing, wishing to avoid the rest of the rainfall, i would simply go to my next destination, being the city of turku, toward the west, still on the coast. i visited a busy lidl by the station, purchasing one (1) Bowl, assorted contents, being rice and chicken and vegetables, along with some water. the train station itself is a very convenient one, it is a terminal station, no bridges, nor tunnels, the commuter track simply starts where the train stands. i enter what is apparantly a high-speed train to turku. i sit in a random seat, aware that you can reserve seats, but unsure of how often this is done. after five minutes, a woman tells me, in finnish, you are in my seat, your seat is mine, i am sitting here, i did not need a translation particularly, i know the signal. i spoke to her in english as i moved, is it common, she says yes, all tickets have assigned seating. good to know. you cannot reserve seats on the finnish trains when using interrail, you simply sit at random until asked to move. i end up sitting at a single seat by the door, the right column of the same row, guessing it would be a very uncommonly booked seat, the woman explains i can get the application, it is good. as she sits down, she seems to huff and puff, which may be a sign of begging the question, 'long travels?', though i did not know how to word it, and left the interaction there. a pink can of soda is left in the front basket of my seat, which advertises itself to have a high fibre content, strange. to my left, next to the woman i shortly spoke to, sits eventually a blonde, straight-haired archetypal young finnish man, hard to describe, it is in the exact colour accent of the hair and face-shape. the train fills up rather quickly after this. i downloaded the application, you can follow the trains in real time, and so on, and i figured out that one can look in the order-flow of a ticket for the train to see an occupancy map. i would stand or sit by the door steps if i had to, anyway, i do not care that much. the conductor, one again, simply gazes at the application quickly, i asked if he wanted my passport also, he said no, 'it is all good', and moved on. i will not reiterate the point about a fake interrail application. along the railway one can see many fields, some being tilled farmland, others unworked meadows, cut through by stretches of forest, the whole dotted with small houses, and sheds, decorated with mostly red paint, with white lining at either end of the faces producing the box-shape. several clearly metal, industrial, buildings, warehouses, processing centres, the like, take this exact visual and mask with it the material and purpose of the structure, hiding in amongst the idyllic scenery. alongside this, parts of regular villages are visible, the buildings here being decorated in various-varieties of the forementioned style, more often swapping out the red for a color palette of white and beige-yellow.

on the way to my accomodation, it was now about six pm, straight in front of me, a hill toward a park, stairways. i climbed the hill, a great deal of stairs, only to learn i did not need to, the road to the left would go not even half the elevation, and i subsequently walked down toward the market square, around this time busy with many people, it is peak market square time. turku is prettier than helsinki, less glass complexes, from what i have seen. i met with the renter outside the appartment i am renting for the evening, there was no other option, and i am paying sixty! euros for this. it gives me an opportunity to do some laundry, for hang drying throughout the evening, all of my laundry, actually, i had to do laundry today, no question about it, however, when i did so, i forgot to put my sweater inside the laundry machine, so i will need to do more laundry soon, anyway, possibly for sun-drying in the park. this building has a very soulful elevator, one opens a wooden door, enters the elevator, at which point you can watch the other wooden doors one could enter pass by, there is no inner door. additionally, the key and lock design of this building are notable, they turn outward, away from the door to open! alongside being of a disc-detainer kind, i believed anyway, very common in bike locks, as compared to house doors. the key mentions the company named ABLOY, which i looked online for, and found that yes, the ABLOY company is actually the first company to produce them! their founder invented disc-detainer locks! the founder of abloy was a finnish man! this explains why i have found these disc detainer locks in my finnish appartment building, it is a source of finnish pride. i will leave the post there for today, it is half one, i must go to bed. i will update you about my evening today, tommorow. the finnish sun-cycle is messing with my time perception, before you know it, it is ten pm

addendum! i was supposed to post my evenings observations, i update the post with these here, two days late, from what i both remember and had noted down.

i had seen a large park to the south of the city, and decided to walk there, passing some neighbourhoods, for living in, along the way. several streets, neighbourhoods of this type, contained many detached houses, the streets, the type without a sidewalk, vehicles are parked on the house-side, a green seperator acts as the walking area, on the other side of the seperator, another row of houses, car parking the same, making a kind of oblong roundabout-esque construction, though not exactly a roundabout, as it has multiple entryways, though i have seen constructions of this type in the world that could be called an oblong roundabout. further ahead, i walk up a hill, appartment buildings to my left, the tops of appartment buildings to my right. on this street, a large boulder protrudes from the side of a hill next to the sidewalk, in between generously slaced appartment complexes, smaller rocks are affixed to the surface, likely by a screwing mechanism drilled into the larger. there were several of these, at least three in this street, making me believe they must exist in other parts aswell. i get closer to my destination, and spot a man leaving his electric rental scooter, giving a small jog while opening his phone, he had spotted a grouping of yellow bikes, also a kind of electric rental object i have noticed in turku. he must have been in a hurry, and these have a higher velocity, was my thinking. i find the park and enter, climbing up some quiet hills, and find some rocky areas, many, very much mossed over, this part of the park does not get trodden on often. anyway, as i recall it, i was getting tired anyway, hungry, even, and simply left through a different path back home, not seeing much that i remember. i visited the store, buying dinner objects, i think it was a salad, before hanging up my drying, by constructing a kind of fortification, chairs aligned, strings attached between a door-handle and one chair, hanging up my pants and shirts over the chairs, the socks and under-wear over the strings, and subsequently pointing a fan at it which i had found, to ensure drying would be completed by the morning.

28/05/2026 @ tampere (fi)

i woke up in the morrow to find my construction of drying lines and fan had fully dried my clothes, good, subsequently reconstituting the original layout of the living room, washing some dishes, and leaving at about eleven. when going to throw away an unsorted array of waste, i found six large bins staring back at me. apparantly, the name for 'mixed waste' in finnish translates to 'combustible waste', leaving me with much confusion as to what bin i was supposed to use, eventually resorting to opening them up one by one to find the 'whatever i do not care' pile, surely confusing multiple people viewing this backpacked individual looking in bins in the middle of the day. i walked around turku some more, bought some breakfast, it was three croissants, with a single pear, along with an americano from a cafe today. i do not know what a finnish breakfast is supposed to look like, but probably not this, sitting down by the river in the sun. a grouping of three formed, one by one, by the water side to my right. not a massive amount of people passed here, there were other walkways higher up from river. eventually, two of the group of three passed by my location, carrying bags of varying sizes, drinking open containers. they greeted me, i said hallo back, the finnish greeting sounds more like 'heye' or 'hiye', i have noticed, so i should probably just say that. two student-aged girls walked past, chatting away, carrying some old chairs, it is a defining experience, buying second-hand items halfway across the town with no better way to transport them. i walked about the streets of turku for a while, admiring a few older buildings, though, generally, i do not like turku so much for walking around. the streets are very clean, the buildings, very clean, the whole, filled with many people. turku feels like a very Centralized place, there are some groupings of blocks that house Everything To Do, the rest is housing and only housing. mostly, it is the neatness. it felt a bit too perfect, i simply could not find something that did not look Good. eventually, i resorted to the parks and riversides, finding a half-broken holding wall under some trees, overgrowing grass, to sit on the ground at, admiring the scenery. the turku cathedral is very pretty from the other side of the river. i relaxed there for a time reading, eventually leaving to catch my four pm train to tampere, stopping in to what is apparantly one of the oldest market-halls in finland, which was nice, these are always a better environment than the standard Mall.

taking the train in finland with interrail requires a bit of extra stress, as i explained yesterday, every person purchasing a ticket gets an assigned seat, though you do not, making the odds likely that yes, you are sitting in somebodies assigned seat, which people very dilligently follow, for the reason that other people do so, also. if even some do, everybody must. on boarding, i checked the map to find a cluster of as yet unassigned seats, found the carriage, and sat there. nearing every stop after this, i would open up the 'VR', the finnish rail service, application, and look at the map again to see if my seat was still unreserved. i imagined that when one selects the seat from the map, but does not finish the transaction, it would hold the seat reserved for a time. it seemed to be about fifteen minutes, so, every ten minutes before every stop, i would reserve my own seat this way, to ensure nobody got it assigned randomly when buying a last minute ticket. it would be very inconvenient to swap seats into a different carriage on a crowded train, as it would be very uncomfortable, mentally, to leave my backpack in the overheads far out of sight and hearing. even when it is directly over my head, with no way anybody could move it without my hearing or sensing, even while fully asleep, there is a strong compulsion to gaze upwards, impossible to resist, i simply must look, or i might have a heart incident. an older woman next to me, she had attempted to allow my sitting by the window, in her seat, as she had to get off at the first stop anyway, but i had refused, as the seat i would be giving her, is not my seat at all, it is no-body their seat. on trains with reserved seating, you will notice a very specific behaviour of people, slow-walking through the aisles, looking intermittently at the printed seat numbers, and at their phone, checking that the seating number they have read, by this point, ten times, has not changed, until finally setting down. this happens on every single finnish train. the whole practice of reserved seats causes undo stress on the population, i am sure.

reaching tampere, i had a general idea of what direction to start walking, it was about three kilometers to my accomodation, stopping by the lidl for dinner first, bread, hummus, a salad, fruit. the first place i had booked for the night, via booking-dot-com, first sent me some automated information, then a message saying 'room is not available today, there is error in reservation system, you can cancel for free thanks thumbs up emoji smile emoji', then followed two minutes later by more automated information. i was a bit sad, it was a well priced place with a private sauna, which i wanted to try out without it being a public affair, replying with a message to say it was unfortunate, it was, i was already looking forward to my sauna experience, sad emoticon (an ":(", more soulful than an emoji, ":-(" would have been better), cancelled the booking, and received a reply saying 'im very sorry heart emoji prayer hands emoji'. however! another fairly priced appartment had appeared, with a private sauna! much joy. this is where i was headed now, first, wanting to walk, i really liked what i was seeing of tampere. there seem to be more older-looking buildings, along with a very good example of a modern lutheran church, a flat beige building adorned with a simple cross on the facade, the only other decoration, the name of the church. by the river, a beautiful scene, what looks like rubble of a demolished concrete building has created a meandering effect, with one large bank visible, opposite a red-brick industrial looking building rising directly upwards from the riverside, leading into the bridge, from which pipeworks can be viewed. view attachment. continuing along, i sit by a church for a few minutes. an older woman pushing, sliding, step-wise, more accurate, one of those stroller-things for balancing their walk on, i still do not know the name, along the gravel from behind the church. it took a solid two or three minutes to get from the corner of the building to the bench opposite me, where she sat down. i gave her a smile, and continued on my path, though, by this time realizing i did not drink much water today, nor eat more than three croissants and a pear, walked a bit south to take a tram instead. i will pass this area in the morning, my accomodation is in the north-west corner of the city premises, by the shore of a lake north, a relatively thin stretch of dry-land between that lake, and another south, to the east of which lays the bulk of the city. the trams in finland are easy to use, one can simply pay with their bankcard inside the tram, day tickets are eight euro, which is more like a day-cap on the price you pay for the amount of ninety minute tickets you use in a day, 10 ninety minute tickets cost the same as five ninety minute tickets, et-cet-era, you get the idea. i had just missed the tram, i saw it arrive, it belled right as i approached, no worries, i would never hop into a jog to catch a transport, major swag detractor, they run every seven minutes or so. right before my tram arrives, a sight, an old man walks by, across the street, leather pants, leather loafers, a weathered leather longcoat, cherry on top, the black and white pattern bandana, to match his long white hairs, beard included. he had that shit on, no question, and he knew it, judging from his stride.

on exiting my tram, i looked at the map confused for a second, the directions put me in a direct path to a building standing in front of a hill. there is much construction about, perhaps the maps are outdated and there is no staircase here anymore. i walked around, left, right, then i saw, there is an elevator in the map-path building. i have no idea what floor i need to be on, the sign seems to indicate this is the elevator for both an appartment building as well as a pedestrian elevator, interesting, it is filled all over with graffiti. i go to floor four, exit the door, and find myself here, a gravelled track, completely unexisting, filled with graffiti, going around the back of the appartment buildings. probably not my stop, i attempt to open the door, alas, another disc-detainer lock stops my way. one way exit, if you are not a resident of the appartment building. hm. i was supposed to get off at floor ten, i realize now, there is a pedestrian bridge over the rail tracks. right is the only way, and so i walk, through another cramped tunnel, over some wooden staircasing, and exit about half a kilometer from the bridge. i had taken the tram in tampere, and ended up in chongqing, in the chinese peoples republic, it seemed. i made my way up to the building, finding my key hidden away in a plastic bag tucked into a wooden fence by the parking area, as described by the host. the host, a very communicative person, very friendly, and excited about telling me how to use the sauna, i had said it is my first time trying it out. it is a very cute studio appartment, vaguely seventies, very colourful, there are warped glass seperators, a sofa-bed, on the wole, the space is well used. i eat my dinner and begin heating up the sauna, as instructed by the owner and my other sauna-enjoyer friend. it is pretty straight forward, let the place get hot, sit inside the sauna naked, put water on the rocks now and again, enjoy, drink water. i like the sauna. i must have spent about one and a half hours in total, with breaks for water and air in between. i think it is a very cool concept for people to just have this in a studio appartment, i would want one at home, anyway, though the odds on that happening are unlikely.

29/05/2026 @ jyvaskyla (fi)

on the morrow, i left my hilltop abode, happy about my lodgings that night, it seems like somewhere i could live, i used the pedestrian elevator down to floor one, and made my way toward a grassy hill in the distance. to the right, i could see a gathering of people, a stage, and an inflatable arch, the kind used for races of all kinds, meaning that this was the starting point of a race. wether this starting had already happened, or if the starting was still to come, was unclear. i sat atop the hill in the full, kind of cold wind, the clouds moving fast in the front and away from the sunlight to make need for a flashing lights warning, i figured, eating a staple by this point, the nuts and berries breakfast. not much occured, until an announcer was heard on the stage behind me, a few chants, some music. something in finnish, marathon, more in finnish, this was a marathon i supposed. further along the riverside path i could spy tents set up, cords, the like, mentally hoping this would not cross into the main city too much, nobody likes being in a city while a marathon is taking place. eventually, i make my way down the hill, heading south, there are more forests there to walk about in, on the way to the main city, over the roadway, under the railway, by the railway, of course, you always have Strange roads and graffiti, eventually some wooden stairs lead into this park, a bin by the entryway, from this angle, anyway, is decorated with both stickers for the local football club, they have a green and yellow theming, and stickers noting the wish for 'no fences, no borders, freedom of movement for all', and a plus sign, a circle on top, the international symbol for Woman, with a balaclava-figure inside of the circle, saying 'feminist action'. typically, you do not find these things next to each other, existing in harmony, on the same bin. in the distance, i can still hear the possibly-a-marathon announcer, going off about something or the other. i walk around this part for a while, it is a hill-ridge, i take in some views, and find, on hill containing overflowing foliage, two infrastructure buildings covered in graffiti, clearly works done in winter, or long in the past, you cannot see where the graffiti ends and the ground begins. i spent probably an hour or so walking about here, here is a video of some birds singing, you might not be able to hear them, i did not listen to the video myself.

i leave the forest-hill, and sit down at a bench for a few seconds, figuring out where to go next, and where the bridge is located from here. the factory building, now a shopping center esque place, with the Finlayson Church, which used to have a factory priest. a man and his female companion pass, the man plays some kind of rap song over his phone speaker, and is lightly singing along to the whole thing, ad-libs included, looking straight ahead, not really seeming to have a care in the world beyond hitting the next lyric on time. i walk back to the bridge, passing a nice church and historical grave-site along the way. the river-side factory building seen yesterday, is apparently a kind of shopping center now, along with housing a church on the premises, the Finlayson Church, which used to have a Finlayson Factory Priest, it was donated to the local lutheran community on the condition that the Finlayson Church keep the name, Finlayson Church, as a kind of branding, advertising, to the whole congregation. they should start selling ad-space in cathedrals, actually, imagine the possibilities. past the bridge, north from a sculpture made out of corten steel! corten steel, we love corten steel, i sit on a bench to pause, drink water, and so on. this is right by a road, and as so, observations included a group of loud americans, a family, enter into a white bmw and drive off, writes itself, and a red haired person passing by me, later seen standing by a wall, what i now know to be a bus stop, there was a sign. after my break, where i found and booked some accomodation in jyvaskyla, she was still standing there, and i got to return the favour, passing by them in turn, my destination being generally south, there is a large green area toward the far south of the city, past some gas station-area, which houses a manor home, and something labelled on the map application as a "Freemason's Grave". it would be close to forty minutes, and so i started, as it was close to forty minutes back afterwards, slightly knowing in my head there was a possibility i would not be completing the journey.

my eyes saw something, heard, no way, a man speaking about jesus christ is your saviour, he is coming, you must be ready, love thy neighbour, singing a hymn, following this, as i navigate myself in the straightest line i could muster toward their location, on the corner of a mcdonalds in downtown tampere. there are two of them, one with a microphone and a speaker, another with some booklets, both wearing vests with some finnish text on them, i gather i should approach the booklet-haver. i open with a general question, which denomination are you from, it was the most burning question, this looked like an evangelical thing. the man, speaking in finnish accented english, quite good, sort of evaded the question, explaining they are bible believers, all christians are bible believers. he gave me some general christian messaging, but as i expresses my interest in genuine bible study, as to say, what is actually in here, even as a non-believer, he gave me some good insights, explaining that several passages of the bible are actually directly alluding to the coming of jesus and events of his life, some stuff from isaiah, i do not know enough to question him about when these were written, he pulled them up on his phone, asking me if i have access to the internet, a message i interpreted to mean that i looked especially homeless that day. i will be looking into what this man told me and report back. more christian homework. his messaging did lead me to understand they consider mainstream catholocism as borderline heresy, as it teaches that salvation is possible only from christ, through the church authority, very importantly distinct from the more protestant belief system, of a personal connection to god. he mentioned bart erham, a name i know, as somebody to look into, he is a well-known christian theologian who is himself an atheist. the man i was speaking to was a true bible student, in a relatively sober sense. he is a believer, yes, but he is also interested in theology in general, i could tell. anyhow, this led to a conversation line about if jesus christ really existed, i agreed, yes, i would say it was undisputably an historical figure, but he led this into saying that the biblical writing, the testaments, of jesus coming back to live, must therefore also be true, which is where you lose me (for now!). along with this, further insights into mormonism!, i had brought up the mormon affair, to gauge his reaction. he explained that he has spoken to mormons, quite closely, probably in his position as a person generally interested in theology, where he gave me new information, within the mormon belief it is held that humans can become 'as gods' themselves, based on a very specific passage he could not exactly quote from memory. i will be looking into this, and must ask freestone about what this exactly means, it is necessary. eventually, i bid the man farewell, he is called joni. if you are ever in tampere, and see an middle aged man doing street-conversion by the corner of a mcdonalds, please say hi to joni. from a plastic bag near the two men i grabbed a pamphlet, i had asked about it, he said take whatever you want, the pamphlets he himself was holding are of a generic kind, these looked more custom, it gave me a name to work with later, in my quest to figure out exactly who i just met. i had gotten an impression of a kind of end-of-days envangelical christianity, specifically by the emphasis on the message 'are you ready?'

i continued on south, though, after about ten minutes of the scenery toward there, i lost interest in walking it. if i left for the station now, i could make the train to jyvaskyla at five, and so i did, passing an orthodox church of strange construction along the way, i have never seen one that looks like this, nor did i know orthodox christianity had a large enough support base in finland to warrant a full size church, as opposed to a modest community building, akin to the narva mormon church we visited, common housing of the religious outliers in a given place. the manor home and possible sighting of a real-life square and compass would have to wait, i am planning on spending another night in tampere anyway later, as a step through toward the western coast. i like tampere. close to the station, i saw one person in military uniform, walking, then another, riding one of the rentable electric scooters, this was a blue one, which clashes a bit with the green uniform, but i will allow it. finland, of course, has a mandatory conscription, males only, except! if you live in aland. there is some history there, probably, my being outside aland, i see a good amount of uniformed lads, primarily around the transport centers, typically, they will be going-to either home or their service place. the blue scooters, a kind of light baby blue, think the united nations helmet, again, it just clashes with the uniform, this scooter colour being a bit darker, by brand name "dott", i have surmised, are the new kids on the block, selling the exact same service as the pink "voi." or green "ryde" scooters, but at a slight discount, promoted by cards hanging from several of them along this city, an attempt at breaking into a market that has been long calcified, surely. the most common scooter, of the places we have visited so far, i would say about sixty to seventy percent, are the green variants, "ryde", a completely derivative naming style, taken wholesale, most likely, from the ridesharing company "lyft", if not from the general bag of " a word, changed in writing, but the same spoken". one can say the same of the "voi" company, not because it is very close to the french word "voie", it is a swedish company as far as i can tell, but seems to be short for voiage, as in voyage, ride and voyage, swap the same-sounding letters between, thats a billion dollar industry right there. anyway, more uniforms on the platforms, i had to resist the urge to give a salute when i locked eyes with one. on the train, somebody was sitting in my own free, unassigned seat, so i sat down at random for a second to find another place without burdening a random person by sitting next to them, people get assigned a window seat if it is available, i noticed, most of the aisle seats are free on not-so-busy trains. instead, i sit in a four seater, marked as being occupied, but without anybody there. it is a good system for avoiding overcrowded trains, workable, if a bit hard-handed, for the regular passengers, but, as i said, stress inducing for me personally. another uniformed lad sits. tampere seems a major transit station for uniformed conscripts, one can probably figure out why.

close to the end of the ride, a man joins me at my four-seater, giving me a bit of a strange glare as he sits down. he produces a tablet, and begins watching what can best be described as 2016-era internet brainrot videos on this tablet, judging from the exact sound palette. you must imagine, from this mans ipad on this train, one could hear a very well-known soundbyte of a man yelling 'allahu akbar', very common in internet videos of the time, accompanied by a kind of edm-remix of some vaguely middle-eastern sounding music. i cannot tell you exactly what other sounds were visible, but consider them short, and in this same vein of slightly stale, out-of-date, humour. he looked to be in his late twenties. i came to learn that the reason he sat at this table, his bag was sitting in the overheads, possibly, this is why he gave me a strange glare, i look homeless, and am sitting next to his unattended baggage, lightly justified glare, probably. on exiting the train and taking a left, there was a slight smell of smoke, to which i found the source soon after, a cigarette-tower was acting as if a smoke-stack. this did not interest any of the other onlookers. in my watching this for a few seconds, a man approached me, spoke something in finnish and handed me, i kid ye not, the exact same generic christian messaging pamphlet that joni was holding just hours earlier. what are the odds. apologizing, i do not speak finnish, to which he continued in finnish, before leaving. he did not have a stack of these things, unless in a coat pocket somewhere, he just had the one in his hands. the hostel was about two kilometers away, by a park. i visited a lidl for some bread and hummus, i was hungry, and vowed to sit in this park. it turned out to be a large hill, which i climbed about halfway up a gravel track before sitting at a bench. during my dinner, along with regular spottings, two people were seen at the foot of the hill, very slowly progressing upwards, stopping nearly every few steps. i could not figure out why, until they got to my level: they had a cat, on a leash, staring directly at me, themselves looking at the cat. we exchanged a few glances, the cat kept staring, its front legs stretched, its back legs nearly to the ground, as it crept a step or two at a time. i asked about it, is this the first time you take your cat outside? they said "no, no, she is just very shy". i figured if i stopped looking, the cat would feel less threatened, and they were shortly on their way, slowly, again.

at the hostel then, it is an expensive one, still the cheapest lodging in the city, no staff on site, fill in an online form with your details, get a door code for your own room and the front door, easy enough, though, be careful you do not oversleep, the fully-automatic hostel just might have a mechanism to execute you for attempting to leave at 11:02 instead of 11:00. behinds the reception desk, there is one, for a reason i cannot guess except that they used to staff the building, stands a garbage bin in place of a person. funny sight. there is nobody in this whole building. it has quite a nice interior, only one bed in my room seems to be occupied, there are nine! rooms in total, with a total of 2 bathrooms and showers, though im quite sure some of these rooms are privates, this seems unworkable for a high-occupancy day. a man enters soon after, as i am setting up my space for writing the post here before you now, we exchange glances, three times in total even, i smile every time, he does not reciprocate, it is a difficult thing about the culture, to me, this signals in my head 'i am doing something wrong', but no, they simply do not smile at each other here. in the eating-relaxing area, there are two screens, showing what feels like an advert for the very hostel-appartment company we are staying in now, on permanent loop. one of the clips shows a man reading the "jyvaskala times". the man, now also having carried in a laptop to the eating area, has a liter bottle of cola, from which he occasionally pours a drink into a cup. there are a few hundred sticky notes in clusters on the walls, containing messages from guests. i believe they are real, the handwriting is all over the place. some are dated as far back as 2020, one of them, sitting solitary on a plant-pot toward the back wall, has the confession of a man, whos girlfriend has broken up with him, and asking any readers to pray for his relationship, as 'she is my moon'. elaborate irl-shitpost or the words of a genuinely desperate man, left heartbroken in a hostel in finland, hard to say. view attachment.

inside of the hostel, i have done research on two topics related to my missionary encounter this midday. first, what exactly were the people i saw, and spoke to? they are a part of the 'deeper life bible church', also known as 'deeper christian life ministry'. this is an independant christian denomination started in, of all places, lagos, nigeria, by a man who was expelled from his previous church affiliation for taking on the task of preaching, quote, without credentials. it is indeed of the pentecostal, evangelical orientation, and they have a very funny website, which i suggest you visit on a desktop, it does not seem to work on the phone, at dclm.org. it is, as we speak, advertising an event between the twenty-seventh and thirty-first of may, this year, named 'The Faithful God', featuring an image of what i would imagine is the founder of the church, urging you to attend at 'any global crusade location nearest to you'. sounds good. they seem to be of the theatrical, holy-ghost on-stage channeling, tongue-speaking, division of christianity, along with rapture belief, and a true eternal-torture-punishment of the nonbelievers in the fires of hell. additionally, i have looked further into the claims of mormon belief in 'becoming god'. from what i read, it is tied to the idea in mormonism that god has a phyiscal body, i knew this from my speakings with the mormons so far, that god, the big man, has a physical, "perfected" (it is unsure what this means) body, and exists in the space-time, unlike the necessary and formless 'force' as it is normally understood in christianity. jesus christ, of course, the same. what the man in tampere was speaking about is related to a passage stating "As man is, God once was; as God is, man may become", which is read as to say, that god was once a man before achieving his "perfected" form, in an act of ascension. when elder freestone had spoken about 'joining' god in his kingdom, he neglected to fully explain what this means: there are 'tiers' of how 'joined' one is to god within the afterlife, the ultimate task is to be the same as god, procreate to create more spirits or souls, and continue this cycle on a different world, in the exact same position of god. god was a man, man can be as god. genuinely mesmerizing stuff. i will be interviewing freestone about this, thank you, finnish member of a nigerian evangelical church on the streets of tampere.

30/05/2026 @ tampere (fi)

on the morning, i nearly overslept in my fully-automatic hostel. there was only one person staying in the room, and i only saw one other person in the whole place. they had a french press in the kitchen with free coffee grounds in a pot, allowing me to make Real coffee for at least one morning in the whole trip. i have not used filter-coffee machines even if they were available, i do not know how they work. my house was a french press house, it is the superior manner of making filter coffee. after this, i am actually considering buying a small french press to carry around, along with real coffee grounds. i made use of the opportunity, filling up my thermos with more coffee before leaving. i only left about an hour after check-out time, but nobody was around to care, though i did ensure to move all of my stuff out of the room, fearing my door-code would simply stop working at the exact moment my check-out time elapsed. exiting the hostel, i bee-lined up the same forested hill-park as yesterday evening, climbing it in full now, and viewed in between the trees, by a large staircase that goes all the way back down, a nice sight of the city. there was a viewing tower also, which would have given a better view, i learned, but it was still closed for another hour when i was there. there is a car road up here, and a cafe, also, which is a bit unfortunate. the east side of the park is taken up by the local stadium, which i walked past, on my way back into the city, noting some people either setting up or taking down some metal constructions at various points in the field. the stadium seems to have a running track around it, aswell as a football stadium, as far as i could tell. i visit the lidl, purchasing hummus, carrots, a salad bowl, and two croissants, making my way through the city center.

jyvyskala is a lively city in the center. it was a saturday, of course, but one could see all kinds of groups in and around the approximately seven(!) different store-complexes that line these central blocks. it is a very strange organization of stores and restaurants, the buildings here are large blocks, many things are inside another thing, rather than having a lining of shop facades along the street. this is not true of all, of course, but it was very noticable in the center of the city, especially. i made my way north-west, there was more green on the map, as well as a beach. there was another hill here, where i sat for an hour, eating, along with watching what looked like an ongoing beach volleyball game in front of the lake scene. i could only see a small slice in between the trees, and i did not visit the beach itself to confirm. nobody else came up the hill for the time i was there, very serene. eventually, i cotinued back east, having gotten the advice to visit the alvar aalto museum in jyvyskala, jyvyskala being the homeplace of the man, himself being a well known modernist architect and designer. it was all the way across town, a bit to the west of my original hostel location. in this forest-hill-park, which one notices as common in finland, there was a massive hole in the ground, bright orange fencing lining this, with a concrete circle in the middle. odd. i have no idea what this was. view image.

i passed through some more nice streets, one playground area, though i try to avoid walking directly through these, it was inevitable here, and through the university campus buildings. they are very nice brickwork buildings, designed by the aalto man himself. after some searching, i manage to find the correct museum building, next to another aalto-designed university building, a bit seperated from the other brickwork. we are in the aalto quarter, i suppose, as even the very museum building, the alvar aalto museum building, is built to the design of alvar aalto, which is a bit funny, a bit hubristic, even, but not really. the museum was good, it houses the permanent exhibition, containing many images and models of buildings, notes on materials, and a history of the life and work of the man, in connection with both his furniture designs and the architecture studio he ran for his whole life. the chairs are especially beautiful. one would kill for one of the low-sitting bent-wood lounge chairs. one work that especially stood out to me, was a church, the 'church of three crosses', look at this thing, ridiculous. i recommend visiting this, if you are in the area. there is another exhibition hall, which at this point housed a general history of central finnish culture, from back to pre-history until now. it was not as interesting to me, especially as the text was only in finnish, and it was a bit annoying to continually find the correct page in my booklet to read. when buying my ticket, the desk-person greeted me with a clear-cut english 'hello', which i replied with 'hi, sorry, do you speak english?', a standard opener, though i realized halfway through she had greeted me in english, it is clear, i am no finn. i walked back to the city, passing by some bars, increasingly more people, it was getting to be the early evening of a saturday. in a quiet part of the street, i hear coughing, lots of coughing, and giggling. i round around a building, the sidewalk moved into the building to make way for some parking spots, two teenagers stand here, not look much older than 15, holding both about 4/5ths of a lit cigarette, red faced. i lock eyes with one of them, smiling, this is an absolutely necesary experience, which they seemed to understand, kind of putting up their hands and giggle-coughing again. essential. i walked about the city a bit more, jyvyskala is nice, it is good, you get that feeling, beyond the train tracks, there is a massive plaza for seemingly no reason, giving a nice view of the forested hills around the city. it is one of the great qualities of these central finnish cities, they just rise out of a forested area, in between hills and lake valleys. at the tracks, there were two large columns of timber-holding carriages, of various trunk sizes, the other side, lest we forget.

nothing much happened on the train. i read some more in the book of mormon, there are more funny passages. at some point, when i got up to use the bathroom, it was unlocked, yet a man was sitting there, fare evading. he avoided eye contact and quickly scuttled to a random seat. hope he got away with it.in tampere, i visited the forementioned 'freemasons grave', taking a bus south. there was no freemasons compass on the stone, unfortunately, just some faded text with a few greek alphabet signs, i could not make out what it said. there are some great views from this part of the city, toward the rest of the city, the sun was just about setting, at which point i left to my accomodation, a kind of hostel. my room is a coffin, no windows, private, a small changing area and a large bed on a shelf. i did not take any notes today, and there were no interactions, and most importantly, i am tired, so the post is a bit lack-luster, that is all-right though.

31/05/2026 @ vaasa (fi)

in the strange coffin that made up my sleeping accomodations, i had overslept. it was about 10:15, check out by 11. hmm. quickly showering, no coffee, give my nfc wristband to the counter person, who had a flip-open phone, the kind that flips open to have a larger screen, and leave very tired to visit the lidl right next door. bread and hummus it would be, some fruits. i made my way to a park and decided to change my plans for the day. i had promised to be in vaasa that evening, but i wanted to visit the town of hameenlinna south first, for which i would need to wake up relatively early, which did not happen, so i would just relax in tampere some more before going to vaasa. i wanted to do laundry, anyway. it was a sunday, a sunny sunday, there were many people walking about the park. one woman with a stroller, her presumed husband alongside, was wearing the largest wide-brim sun hat i have ever seen, and it did not fit her overall style. i sat in a half-view of what looks like an amusement park, a lake, and factory buildings, each of which semi-obscured by tree-leaves. i was tired on account of not having coffee, as well as the general effect of sleeping too much, which makes one feel lethargic. i sat in the park for a time, read for a bit, before leaving to the city proper. i walked about some more in tampere, looking for a quiet looking cafe, until i found one close to the station. it had a very minimal interior, some art pieces on the walls, served cold water with the espresso, a real coffee-house. a man in a stroller arrived shortly after me, which sparked a lengthy conversation between the bar-tender and this man, ongoing for at least an hour. i had two double espressos, and felt better. some more walking about tampere, coming to the conclusion that is a good city, with a complete lack of public bathrooms. at the station, they have an extremely strange system, one must call a number listed there, wait for a signal, then push a button on the door, this will open the door, and charge you two euros seventy(!) to your phone bill. what? i simply waited for the train, not even for the price, i simply did not think this system even worked.

i took the one pm train to vaasa, an intercity running helsinki-vaasa. it was especially busy, and i sat down next to a person wearing no shoes. they had shoes with them, they had just taken them off in the train. two seats in front and to the left of the aisle, lays a person on two seats at once. it made me think, what if a local finnish person walked on the train, to find their seat occupied by somebody laying down on it, no shoes on. would they still say, hello, this is my seat, or simply leave it to sit in an empty one? on a near-full train, even if the seat next to you happens to be unoccupied, it seems incredibly rude to simply lay down, though it would be almost normal on an empty or near empty train, but i suppose it works in the finnish system, you simply look at the map, it is unoccupied, therefore nobody is Allowed to sit here, and so, i will lay down. if somebody entered the train, and asked to sit in the seat, they might even open up the map to check, no, it is unoccupied, This Is Not Your Seat. i read the book of mormon some more, nothing much interesting has occured more, except for the revelation that actually, when jerusalem falls, another group is lead to america, which the original group meets. there was a phone call scheduled, with elder freestone himself, the finnish trains have small phone booths for calling in, so you can do so without being annoying to the rest of the cabin, though the connection is obviously not good. for that reason, we just had some small talk, mainly, and i asked some small clarifications. the book of mormon, on multiple occasions, mentions very directly, that the descendants of 'laman', one of the sons of the original family that the book follows, who disavowed god and the sayings of the younger son, the main character at that point, were cursed for this, cursed in the sense of having their skin made black. yes, really, the curse is that their skin is black. they go off to found their own kingdoms, and are described as being savages, eating wild animals, being generally unworking, lazy, Evil. a great deal later, when the original civilization begins to waver in their faith, god directly threatens them, they must correct their ways, or the lamanites will have whiter skin than them. yes. good. i asked elder freestone about this, what the hell is this. he gave me a non-answer, well, it is a curse, we do not really know what it means, exactly. i thought it was pretty clear. the conversation cut out about seven times in total over the course of thirty minutes in this train-journey. after this, i read some more on the train, and eventually arrived in vaasa.

vaasa lies on the north-west coast of finland. it is a smaller city, about eighty thousand, which does show, there seems to be little to do overall. there are a few nice churches i passed, after buying something for lunch, on my way west, there seemed to be a park where i could eat and sit in the sun, some other nice buildings, and several mall buildings. the square houses a massive copper statue, which i liked, the whole of the square, really. what there is of the city is enjoyable, though a bit limited. i had lunch here, by this park, many people passing, looking a bit more curious as to what i was doing, probably a less-common sight here. two children on bikes ride past, they say something, and look back expecting a reply, unfortunately for them, whatever they said does not even fully register as language to me, so none was given. wonder what they had to say. my view was of a bridge, to the left, which houses a statue of a bird, going over one part of a lake, of which the larger part was to the left of the bridge, a smaller area to my front. to the right, some appartments, construction materials, if i remember. i had a salad-thing with some chicken, a bag of nuts, two bananas, a pear, a whole array of foods, really, it was about five when i left, this was my dinner, i suppose, a bit of a weird timing day. there was a laundromat toward the north-east of the city, over the tracks, to which i made my way next, crossing a bit north over the center. there was not that much to see here, mostly housing, eventually, down a hill, the 'minimani' supermarket-laundromat-pharmcy-cobbler-complex, with a very large parking area, about ten percent filled.

we are in a laundromat again. there is an additonal machine in this self-service laundromat, which i have seen before the last time i used a laundromat in finland, it is one of the same chain. this machine, is an automatic rug cleaner, which i could not figure out last time, though this place contains a television displaying video-instructions on loop, it seems simple enough, though i immediately thought of the situation where somebody brought an authentic old persian to this machine and absolutely annihilated it by allowing whatever unnamed cleaning process happens inside the Thing to overcome it. a man sits in a corner, waiting on his laundry, viewing something on an ipad. he has on a vest, a puffer, sleeveless, sitting by an orange bag, next to which stands a helmet. very urban personality, probably uses an e-bike. as he stands for his laundry, he carries the tablet with him, along with the corded headphones he wears, and continues viewing on his tablet as he unloads the washer, walks, and loads the dryer. unloading the washer, you are able to use baskets of various sizing, in most laundromats, anyway, in this laundromat, there are shopping carts, of a strangely de-longated form, made of plastic, which i learned to be a variant of the same one can use in the supermarket itself, they are not from the laundromat itself. somebody may have just parked them here, at which point people started using them as rideable baskets. a decent concept really, it makes it far easier to watch stuff on the Computer while emptying and moving the laundry, as the man in front of me was clearly adept at. the whole laundromat setup is a bit funny. there is a back area, behind the machines, accessible via a door-code-door, covered by a an about 2.5 meter thin, possibly plywood or cardboard, walling, which surrounds the machines, the door, et-cet-era. there is a large red button by the door, which presumably cuts the electricity to the machines, in case of an emergency, which could be used as a handhold, for getting over the wall. wonder what is behind there. i visited the store while my clothes washed, buying some granola to eat for breakfast tommorow, dry, and afterwards waited for both the washing and drying cycle. i really wished i did not have to put my clothes into the dryer.

it was getting close to seven as i made my way to a park nearby, containing a small lake, over-run with birds, gulls, mostly. on the way, i witnessed somebody stand up from a bench, turn 90 degrees left, take two steps, turn another 90 degrees, and simply begin to urinate right next to the bench, in plain view, directly facing people sitting farther away. i made a long circle around this mans position, not wishing to interact. by the lake, i sat at a bench for a bit, pretty strong winds, it was getting colder now, we are further north. i donned the arabic sweater again, here in vaasa, finland, they must experience the sweater. my friend was still sleeping, so i made my way back to the center for now, to charge my phone at a shopping center, it was pretty low battery. the area here in the north-west was mostly houses, and one massive gravel lot completely fenced in, a rotary door common at worksites, for unknown purpose. full homeless cosplaying at the 'revell' shopping centre, eight in the evening, drinking tap water from a plastic bottle, reading a bit, massive backpack on, charging my electronics. my friend was still getting ready, but her girlfriend came to join me, and so we relaxed outside for a bit. a man approached wearing face paint, and said to us in finnish, i learned from translation afterwards, "ah, it is a good thing you two have rolling papers!", brandishing a packet of rolling tobacco. we did not have any, it was an unfortnate thing, we did not have rolling papers, and he walked along. a great line, made better by us sitting right outside a store, which would have surely sold him rolling papers for about one euro. the hockey finals were on, explaining the mans face paint, a large screen is set up by a bar, where about the whole population of the city sits, viewing intently. it was explained to me, it is a new place, they have a large screen there, and they just play the radio on loud volume all day. one just hears radio-advertising all day in the city centre now, passing by there. they end up winning the match. i got some general information on what there is to do in vaasa, finland, and we eventually made a long, the scenic, route, back to the abode of the two, passing this radio-hockey-screen, which nearly blew out my eardrums, it was set extremely loud.

we meet the friend, very tired, they had gotten up like an hour ago, it was nine pm or so. the intention was to go to a bar, but we did not end up making it there. i got a tour of the place, the house is notable for many reasons. two cats, there is much cat-hair, four guitars, a stack of xbox-360 games, an xbox, 360, two variants of the playstation. on the ground lays a box, a box for a minecraft lego set, the box of which was used as packaging to deliver a different item, presumably from a second hand thing. extremely funny box to use for sending somebody a random second hand item. i will not elaborate too much on the Abode. it is a sight to behold, many artifacts abound, the dual-desk-computer setup additionally houses an n64, on which i was shown a portal, the valve game, ported to the n64, along with some tony hawk games. we mostly chatted in the evening, and i eventually retired to the couch, having the most normal sleeping schedule, before either of the two were tired. the couch was good, apparantly, only eighty euros at the thrift, a large three-seater leather couch, not very worn, good deal, i slept on it, using a minecraft-youtuber piece of merchanise, a blanket with the mans face plastered all over it in a repeating pattern, along with my own sweater for a pillow. i slept pretty well, probably due to being tired. more of vaasa tommorow, we will probably stay another night, see what the vaasa bars have to offer. i have no reason not to, except the possibility of attaining an unclearable amount of cat-hair over all my clothes, though this has already happened. it adds to the style, im sure.

01/06/2026 @ vaasa (fi)

i was awoken this morning after my restful sleep by my two hosts, it is about 9:15, my friend had a video call, a bit personal, it was suggested we go make a walk, sounds good. i wash myself a bit, though do not fully shower, and at about 9:55, this call was at ten, me and the girlfriend go walking. she had hurt her ankle attempting to skateboard earlier in the week. regardless, we end up walking quite a way, it was nice weather, around some more lakes, small, very very small, forest areas, next to large carways, through some neighbourhoods, sightings along the road include three large warehouse-esque buildings, halfway joined into one another, where a quarter of one square overlaps with the next, and then the same again, making a chain, the only marking it contained on any surface, the word Print, in massive lettering, further along the road, a massive unnamed building complex on the map, which we joked as being a gitmo-esque construction, there are mossad agents in there, no question about it. i was informed that there are neighbourhoods of vaasa which are Swedish in nature, and ones which are Finnish in nature, and you can tell the difference, which made me question every house to ask myself, is this a swedish house, or a finnish house?, and i was often wrong. eventually, we loop back to the large grocery, the minimani, where we met back up with my friend, they had some shopping to do. my friend had woken up yesterday at nine, stayed up for this call and to go shopping, and was now quite determined they did not feel like sleeping. we found our way back home, it is probably twelve thirty or so, possibly later. we relaxed at home some more, at which point i wrote yesterdays post, a bit out of sync, kind of the same situation as in prague, when with other people, it is hard to stay true to the rythm we have built over the last month plus change, my friends rested a while in the meantime, my friend falling asleep, the determination to stay up being misplaced, but this is fine, i accord it.

eventually, my one friend is still sleeping, me and the girlfriend go hang out, day-drinking!, at the local fun-bar, a combination of karaoke, dance-floor, and irish-pub aesthetics, genuinely mesmerizing construction, in a completely oversized building for a bar. on the way there, i spotted a white chevrolet truck from the front, of which i took a look at the back, also, in passing, to find it contained a very peculiar symbol to find in vaasa, finland. getting to the bathrooms from the doors, and back, requires you to take probably 100 steps. on entry, a man was stumbling out of the door, looking a bit dazed at us, we walked around and did not think too much of it. while seeing what we wanted to drink, holding our identification cards, a woman approached the counter, and asked the bar-tender, in finnish, if he could get some help, call the emergency number, a man had collapsed outside. we gathered this was most likely our encounter some minutes earlier, which it was, we could see from the window. eventually, he returned, no word was spoken on the event, we had some kind of gin long-drink, it was really good. the woman who previously reported our fallen hero outside, had gotten two beers, a newspaper, and sat outside on the terrace. after a time, the bartender walked outside, returning with two empty glasses and a newspaper, which he put back in its place. sipping two beers at two in the midday while reading a newspaper, and simply leaving without even returning the paper to its location, vaasa, finland, yes. there was another lightly dazed man, older person, who walked up a step very carefully, placing down his beer, both hands on the railings, steadily moving each foot up. he looked at us, and spoke in finnish, 'the step is high', which i concluded was true, after looking, it was an unusually high step to have in a bar. like i said, the whole thing is a strange construction. some half an hour later, guess who walks in, the same man who collapsed earlier, joining his careful friend up the step, another beer in hand. treasured living. it is noticed then by my friend, one of them is wearing, somehow, merchandise of the very bar we are sitting in, a trucker hat with the logo on it. vaasa, finland!

i spoke yesterday on the screen that was set up, it was in front of this bar, set up just to watch the important hockey matches, we figured, as they seemed to be removing it. some men previously seen walking out, in, out, of the bar, holding cups of coffee, they started pushing and pulling from four corners and did not remove it, really, they got it about twenty paces to the right, moved a few of the public benches, snapped some branches off a tree, and walked back inside, not to return again. genuinely curious why they did that, was this simply the first step in removing it, are they even removing it, or just getting a better angle, which it was not, if they are removing it, why clear some of the branches that are covering the viewing area? we did not ask. i will ask for an update on the fate of the screen in a few days if i remember. some more people joined the bar at some point, and we eventually left, our friend was waking up, and it was about time to eat something, visiting a store for a bag of rice, they would go cook something, i would look for a salad-composition in the local store, i bought some bananas, kiwis, et-cet-era, also, i picked out a can of mystery fish, which turned out to be very good smoked sardines. we gave one to the cats, who seemed to enjoy it. good salad-composition tip, buy the meal-salad and simply add more fish, and three croissants, which i did also eat, seperately, a kind of dessert. after relaxing at home some more, the girlfriend fell asleep, they were tired now, but my friend was up. we are working in shifts here, nobody is sleeping at even remotely the same time as anybody else, so i got to hang out with the girlfriend for the first part of the day, and then spend the evening with my friend. not many people will experience this exact visit type, but i found it fun.

we end up visiting another bar towards eight pm or so, an irish pub, which is somehow actually quite crowded, a whole grouping of business-casual-clad people, some english speakers, clearly, others finnish. my guess was a company outing, possibly a computer-related industry, explaining the amount of english speakers. the computer-worker loves moving to a completely different place to do the same job, they cannot help themselves, it is their culture. on the television is a re-cap of the english premier league, with which we amuse ourselves, she had some insights into the economics and advertising behind foot-ball, though we eventually leave for the bar i was in previously, in the midday, with the girlfriend, of my friend, i could use the names, but that would be identity compromising. this is a karaoke-bar, like mentioned previous, upon entry a man is singing a finnish folk song with full heart. many more of these are heard. my friend has a construction of absinthe and redbull, i have another one of those long drinks. we end up doing some karaoke, she picked a classic dutch rap song which i had never heard, or do not remember hearing, it went far too fast, i could not follow except the chorus, afterwards, andre hazes, zeg maar niets meer, an extremely cheesy dutch song, much to the confusion of the finnish audience, i am sure, a bit easier, which was fun. karaoke is very fun, if you simply enjoy it for what it is. on sitting back down, we are approached by an old finnish man, he speaks some english, very drunk. he speaks on the hockey, general conversation, his cat, he hopes his cat outlives him!, he used to breed persian cats, you know, with the fur, they can live for over twenty years, i had six cats at one time, his 'label' of cats, by which he meant his company brand, it was the best persian cats, in finland. my son, you know, he never did anything in his life, he is 32, we come to learn, he plays counter-strike, and apparantly has picked up some russian, which one day the man remembered, he woke up in the middle of his night, to hear his son loudly speaking russian upstairs, much to his amazement, though he did not live with his father any more, so it was unclear when this story took place. some sentences, my friend has to translate to the finnish she knows, as best she can, there are many confusions between meanings here and there, but we manage the conversation. 'young people, they are most important, but my son, he never did anything in his life', a funny thing to hear from an old man. he kept making references to his impending death, which made me feel a bit sad, i felt the man a bit melancholy about it, a possibly unfilfilled life. eventually, a man entered the bar, grabbed a cup of coffee, they see each other, and make conversation in finnish, they are good friends, it seems, have known each other for a long time. 'he is a crazy guy, he knows everything, but, everything he says is truth', the first told us, and the other joined us.

this man spoke exceptional english, possibly by contrast to the previous, along with being clearly far less drunk. 'ah, belgia!', he said, spoke of his own ventures there, he had been all over the continent when he was younger, you must travel, you know, while you can. he had a large amount of advice on all kinds of topics, after the inevitable topic, what do you do, and so on, the computer was mentioned, this man spoke about his own computer experiences, punch cards, magnetic tape, the commodore sixty-four, he still had one!, he was a professor of computer-technology at one point, but the hardware, 'software, anybody can do software', he said, which i whole-heartedly agree with, in the modern age, anyway. he did it for one year, and quit it, he did not care for it, he writes music, you know, he explains, he was one of the first people to bring out a "private cd", which i eventually figured out meant a self-published affair, no commisions to one percent, two percent, from warner brother or disney, no, no, i get all money, all the money!, he explained. on his travels, the following had occured, he had met an italian girl in switzerland, went with her to italy, where her brothers denied, 'you know how that is in italy', though he eventually married her, one year later, she died, a heart condition, completely unpredictable. extremely sad story, though he told it with a kind of vigour as to say, it is what it is, there is no reason to be sad, who could have known, 'i could die today, that is fine, god, take me!', as he pointed to the sky, and i believed him. he liked marlboro cigarettes, marlboro red, specifically, and eventually got to the topic of the cost of making music, renting studio time, he still made music, but, 'i do two third at home, then to the studio, designing covers, and so on, very expensive', mentioning numbers in hundreds of thousands of kronen, karim was his name, one part egyptian, aswell as swedish, i suppose, he spoke both finnish and swedish, so it was hard to say, though he also spoke german, and potentially more, a very well learned man. on money advice, the man had lots of advice, he started number-dropping, but the most important thing, he had old bank accounts accrueing interest in various countries, so very long ago, he explained, 'the government, they do not know, haha!', along with advocating for holding cash, having cash in your house, enough to survive for atleast one and a half years, specifically, 'the bank, you never know.' a fountain of insights. this conversation, in total, must have been about two hours, at some point we went to leave, the man had produced from his bicycle a bike-bottle filled with home-made alcohol, with vitamin b supplement, a product he intended to bring to market. some convincing later, we both tried it, my friend exchanged phone numbers with the man, he seemed like a good character to know, his phone number being written on a piece of paper, attached to the back of his nokia brick-phone. 'but, do not share it, this is a private number, you know, do not put it to facebook', a valid concern. great encounter.

when we reached home, the girl-friend was back up, though still sleepy. i was tired aswell at this point, it was about one am, i had some fruits, in passing, offering a kiwi to her, explaining the proper Mechanism by which to eat it, which i will report, was performed, and the conclusion made, yes, this is good, making another person taught in kiwi-eating technique, being that of biting directly into it, eating one hundred percent of the kiwi. there was a boat tommorow, at one pm, which i would be taking, over to the swedish city of umea, so i would get up at nine or so. the girlfriend had somewhere to be, also, in the morning, so we would see each other then, i retired for another night on the surprisingly comfortable couch. i enjoyed vaasa.

PS i almost forgot a picture i took in vaasa, finland yesterday or the day before, please enjoy minecraft soda, it is a billion dollar industry!

02/06/2026 @ umea (se)

on the second of june, i woke up at nine am, having set an alarm. my friend is sleeping, her girlfriend is awake, doing stuff on the phone, clearly very tired. she had to be somewhere, also, earlier than me. she reckoned she would be back by the time i had to leave, my boat was leaving at 1:30, but i had guessed i should be there by 12:50 at the latest, last time i took one of these boats they required you to check in thirty minutes before departure, for some reason, possibly being that the same people who work the check-in counter are also on the boat, itself, maybe, probably not. i left my friends appartment at eleven thirty, in the end, my friend, still sleeping, which i understood to mean she had gone to bed at Some Time, being late. im sure she will get that back in order, at some point. i boarded a bus, one of the two that seemed to generally go in the direction i needed to be, though the closest bus stop for these two was still two kilometers removed from the terminal, which is located at the far west-end of vaasa, on an island, which seems to house only industry. i got a message from the girlfriend while on the bus, which read 'yoo', to which i told her i had just about left, was making sure i would get there in time. she asked to meet up in the center, she was nearby, and i exited the bus. 'running over', she told me, along with an omnious message, 'i have new friends'. there was another bus in about twenty minutes, which i calculated would leave me plenty of time, if the bus showed up, and just about enough time, if i started walking the rest of the way, being about four kilometers from here.

eventually, in the surrounding park by a large church, next to the bus stop, which was in front of the town hall, on this side of the road, anyway, steadily approaching, not quite running, my own new friend, being my friends girlfriend, with her own new friends, being two other girls. they had asked her for a cigarette, to which she complied, and got speaking. real vaasa, finland locals, one could tell, they were going on about a great deal of things, asking many questions, having their own conversation in a language i could not exactly pin down, every now and again. they were both dressed in sweatpants, large eyelashes, very large eyelashes, on one of them, there is a word i would type here, but i would not. i told them a bit about belgium, travelling, the like, 'ayo, big ass backpack, its like a hiking backpack, my mom loves hiking, shes into all of that'. they told my friends girlfriend she had style, which is true, very true even, she owns a marlboro branded jean-jacket, i must inform you, it is real, you get it by using something called marlboro points, which probably makes it vintage, she could go on the runway in like 'paris or whatever', they told her. a barter was proposed, one more cigarette for two snus, a good deal, a bit of a prison-trade, but a good deal, i would take it any day of the week. after finishing the cigarette, the one girl threw it to the ground, even though we were at a bus stop, you probably aren't even allowed to smoke there, though nobody cares that much, there was surely a bin there, it was about one meter backwards away the street, from where the cigarette landed. my bus was approaching, a group hug was proposed, and performed, these were some different kinds of people than my friends girlfriend and i, 'new friends', i announced, 'yeah!, new friends', it resounded back. i boarded the bus and exited at the stop the application told me to get off. vaasa, finland, i will inform you, has a bus system, which is by miracle not even available on google maps, nor on any conventional finland-specific application, no, you must visit the website for the timetable, they had informed me, though i did find an application which served one, one which aggregates data for many different countries, completely inundated with advertising.

by the bus stop, i first walked down the wrong street, which i did figure out quite quickly, double-backed, and walked alongside industrial terrains for the whole two kilometers, a large, lightly curving road, in the way that highways lightly curve over a great distance, road, with a sidewalk containing exactly zero other pedestrians. two workmen, noted by the high-visibility suits they wear, did pass by me, on the way where, it seemed like home, one was carrying a backpack. i found the terminal, eventually, got my printed ticket from the desk, and entered the overfull post-check-in pre-boarding lounge. there was a table nobody else was occupying, which i sat down on, why not, the whole room being mostly old people, some stares were abound, and i heard mostly swedish, not very much finnish at all, if any. the boarding doors open, the mass flows in, i give it a minute or two and follow along. the view from the terminal windows is quite good, if you like industrial buildings, and dust, loose rocks, the like. the boat seemed extremely large for the amount of people present, on entering, there was an open door with free seating, which i entered, though after realizing there are conference rooms to my left, with somebody opening a presentation, and others, clad in business attire, viewing, i realized this is likely not where i should be, this was the Business Class, and i would probably get asked to leave. the first lounge i entered still had comfortable seats in a corner, the best place to sit, i could watch the whole room, it is a very calming place to sit. the boat would be about four hours, we were arriving at four pm local, back in the gmt plus one timezone. i spent my time catching up on the posting, yesterdays post was late, as is this one, i am writing this on the third on june, sorry, along with Writing, i attempted to debug a problem i have had with my laptop internet, my vpn stopped working, i could not figure out why, i thought i had it set up quite well. this took up probably two hours, and i got nowhere, in the end, which is fine. i watched some people sleeping, scrolling the phone, taking pictures of wide open waters, and hearing in between my headphones a surprisingly loud Show that had started in the lounge, a man doing covers of various songs, elvis presley and the like, a general entertainer figure, sometimes, the on board internet would cut out, specifically when crossing the border-water, which would berate me temporarily with the Noise of the room, i looked quite homeless, i guessed, i had not washed my hair the past few days.

off the boat, i came to realize the umea terminal is in a completely different village east of umea, and from that village even, five full kilometers of what appeared as an airport terminal on the map, though it was simply a road one could walk down. helpfully, there were two busses, i paid fourteen euros to not worry about going fifteen kilometers further to umea itself, in the local currency ofcourse, swedish crowns, the conversion rate, handily, very close to 1/10. we are in sweden, the next country in our trip. i must admit, at this point, we have been to the highlights of the trip, we are over 2/3ds done, my next major stop over is in norway, visiting another friend. we will be doing sweden and norway to that city as transit, travel as far as comfortable each day, i care less about Being Everywhere in the country than the baltics or somewhere like poland. i walked about the city for a while, gathering some dinner, i had really not eaten much of anything today, a bit of granola in the morning, it was now about five pm, awaiting my check-in instructions for the cheapest accomodation available in the city, which was expensive, it is an expensive country, i suppose, this is well known information. my key would be in a small wooden box by the door, all right, i walked about some more, umea is a student town, it felt like, and people really like biking here. one of the main streets, close to some of the shopping centers, was lined with hundreds of bikes, a kind of dutch scene, somehow, the center road being purely a bike road, the sidewalks pedestrian traffic. it is a nice city, again, maybe, a bit too nice, somehow. i found my staying place, dropped off my backpack, had lunch-dinner, and left to walk some more, in the west part of the city. the town is a bit too nice, like i said, there is no way around it, there are private security cars slow-rolling, patrolling, near empty streets at nine pm in the evening. extremely strange sight. most of the sights around the west ranged from cheap-looking new build detached-housing neighbourhoods, the grass landscaping around them still coming in, to parks which are, again, too nice, too many playgrounds, too large of a walkway, in these, i noticed, that in sweden, they have birch trees. this is not notable, except that it was notable to me, i cannot remember the last time i saw a birch tree on this trip, though i had not noticed their Lack, i did notice their Return. i found my way home, eventually, and spoke to another friend for a time before sleeping. a sign on the door of this building has a notice, do not let the cat in, he is curious, his name is messi, but he does not live here!, the name extremely indicative of the Kind of person who owns it. one of the wi-fi networks of a neighbouring house is called 'Wu-Tang LAN', guy thinks hes so funny, huh, huh?. that is all for the second of june. the day after this night, the third of june, would be my birth-day, and i would be spending my birth-day in umea, sweden, travelling through to sundsvall, sweden, further south, along the coast-city rails.

03/06/2026 @ sundsvall (se)

this morning i woke up around nine and generally wasted time until about eleven, at which point i started to leave. i had nothing for breakfast, and there was a store north-a-ways, along with a large forest area, which seemed to be a local skiing spot, when in season. a 'coop' store, they had some nice bread, a good baguette, not of white bread, quite rare in my travels, with hummus, and fruits. i would go to the forest place, climb some hills, find some graffiti-covered buildings, and sit by a bench, without backrest, for breakfast. some people passed, one noticable sight was a person who would walk up the hill, up to where i sat, and then run back down, continually, for at least twenty minutes, still ongoing by the time i left. i supposed the excercise was walking up the hill, not so much running down, as the excercise in running down hills for continuous periods is simply willing knee-rupturing. i spent a few hours just walking about the forest paths, good excercise, enjoyable sound atmosphere, not too many people, before walking down, toward the station, i had about half an hour extra before the train, which i used in the middle of the city, concluding that umea has some very pretty buildings. there is a tunnel, under the train tracks, with many, what i think to be, poems, written on the walls, and a speaker system, playing a kind of glitchy, clicking, noise all throughout, a nice surprise. i boarded the train, unpacked my laptop, and wrote the post for yesterday. we are now all caught up, back in rythm, the swing of things, a groove, yes, stability, momentum, not really. i was on the way to sundsvall, a city further south, on the way to stockholm, just over three hours by train. sweden, along with finland, are beautiful countries, when viewed from the trains. large forests, lakes, a single collapsed dock, some boats overturned in the clearing instead, a cabin in the middle of a lake, for whatever reason, a small island in a lake, a single house on the island. it is pretty. hard to describe. i saw more birch trees, it is not just umea that has birch trees, and more logging cars, those are everywhere. they have many forests, but more logging operations. it does something to the mind, to appreciate the view of the forest, from a vehicle formed by Progress, seeing the cost of Progress, in real time. they are spaced out like a kind of punch-line, you had just forgotten the last one, rule of three, heres the third! laugh_track_medium2.wav plays.

sundsvall station has a bathroom, marked as free on my map, but actually costing one euro. they must have updated it relatively recently. they had the budget to put a whole payment terminal attached to every door, interfacing with the lock. i guess payment terminals, complete with screens, sound modules to announce succesfull payment, and so on, are just that cheap now. a man stood outside the door, on the phone, looking to catch the door. i held it open for him, i do not care, you do not need to catch the door, i will just give it to you. bathrooms should not have payment terminals. that is a symptom of something worse, i am not ready to put that to words. there is a lidl just east, which i visited, for dinner, halfway confused about where to go, this whole side of the city being very car heavy, a drive through mcdonalds and local 'Max' fast food restaurant, also with drive through, no sidewalk. a man, also having gotten off the train, walked before me, starting from the second he exited the train to four minutes later, continually hitting a vape, relentless. he was still hitting it as our paths diverged. i made it into the main city, eventually, it is a very pretty city, sundsvall is, many preserved buildings, mostly 1800s-esque looking construction. i visited a liquor store, they only sell alcohol in what i guess to be state-run stores here, not in groceries, as i had something to celebrate. after walking some more with my by now quite heavy carry-weight, i made my way to the accomodation, a hostel up a hill, unexpectedly high, having to climb a large set of stairs, i stopped for a break halfway through, but otherwise simply hauled myself up the about 150 meter ascent in a few minutes, using the armrest as a launching pad for every step. it seems to work very well, though i am no hiker, i have no clue about this being a good way to get up hills with handholds. it seemed to make me less tired step by step, anyway. it was about seven, a bit early to be retiring for the day, but thats alright. a day is a day.

today is the third of june, which is my birth day, and for which reason i had visited the store to buy a cheap bottle of wine, along with, in the lidl this was, a bottle of sparkling water. we are constructing spritzers this evening, being a drink of about 50/50 cheap wine and sparkling water. i learned this in vienna, from my friend in vienna, and it is a treasured construction to me. they sell it in cans, at the football stadium, they love spritzer over there, as much as i love it, over here. i am twenty five years old today, i feel very little about that, it is the same, this was an unremarkable day, a tad bit sad about the fact, but it is just a day at the end. twenty five feels old, you are closer to thirty than 20, then again, i sad the same about turning twenty, i strongly remember, there is a two in front of my age now, it is definitively over, but it is not, or maybe it is, and we just do not know it yet. my birthday was spent in the north skiing-forest of umea, the train to sundsvall, and shortly, on the hill north of sundsvall. you must be somewhere on your birthday, most people are not on the hill north of sundsvall, sweden after waking up in umea, sweden. you get a nice view of the city from the stairs, i will share a picture tommorow, for now, enjoy this picture, a birthday feast, a celebration. that is all for now.

04/06/2026 @ ostersund (se)

this morning i had woken up at ten. in order to ensure good sleep, i had constructed a manner of pushing the provided curtain, which was set too far from the window to cover all the light, into the wall, by detaching some reading lamps off their screw-mounts, i noticed it was of the kind with a larger circle, and a longer slot above that of the screw-size, within which it could rest, and be removed very easily by lifting it up slightly and away from the wall. this construction had served me a bit too well, and now i had to hurry a bit before leaving, check-out was at eleven. i had some dry granola breakfast, with fruits, but without coffee, there was somehow not a water boiler in the kitchen, even, for my instant coffee, just a coffee machine, and coffee filters, but no provided coffee. i determined myself then, i will just buy some normal coffee today, and a french press. enough is enough. with regular coffee grounds, i have options for the strange cases where a drip-coffee-machine is available. two large signs on the kitchen informed you that there is video surveillance, so gave a look at the camera, before leaving my dishes in the sink. the dishwasher was full of clean dishes, and i simply did not pay little enough to feel it my job. a ten euro hostel, i would empty the dishwasher, sure, why not, though probably not that specific morning, i did not have the time. thinking back on it now, i imagine a drip-coffee-machine can actually be used to just heat water, simply filling the water tank and turning it on would surely yield hot water on its own, though ran over the cheap, likely never cleaned, plastic housing of this specific drip-coffee-machine, it would not be wise to drink. at 10:58 i deposited my key-card into an exactly key-card sized slot in a wall, next to a shuttered up reception, which gave me the impression i had no reason to hurry, there would be nobody around to hassle me yet, not even a cleaning person, remember, cleaning is not included in our prices! as i was hustling about to leave, i noticed my back kind of hurt. this bed must have been especially awful, or i had slept in an especially fetal-esque position on account of it lacking length, to cause this hurt for this first time on this whole trip. some stretching outside removed it, mostly, and i had a look on the phone as to where to go.

the trail i had come up on yester evening continued on further along the ridge, the mapping application promised a 'viewpoint', which is a category of map-point, marking a view, noted by a pair of binoculars. these tend to be truthful, and i followed a few hundred meters further, a bit higher, also, passing by what seemed like a small community of houses, permanent, or temporary vacation homes, at the ridge of this hill. it would be quite a place to live, the view was real, it was a better angle of the city, a phone-photo can of-course not do truth to a human view, but it was good. many people passed, i passed as many also, on my way down the hill. i wished for some coffee. down the same set of stairs, to the same store i stopped yesterday, breakfast, i had bought hummus at a lidl yesterday, not trusting the more local stores to necessarily stock it, so simply bread, more fruits, two croissants, noticably small croissants, really. in sweden, i have noticed, they seem to like round, sweet pastries far more than the savoury croissant or more cheese-based Things, probably disgusting, i found often in the baltics. finland had a mix of both, which makes sense, but here it is especially notable, they have ten varieties of sweet looking, round, pastries, in the grocery store pastry isle. there is a supermarket chain called ICA, the one i was in now is an ICA, which is probably an acronym for something. it seems to be a common grocery store, the 'coop', seen previously in both finland and estonia, has a smaller share, or they simply only do one store per city at a maximum.

lunch acquired, or the rest of my breakfast, the way you look at it, i suppose, i sat down at a place called 'waynes coffee', they had real espresso. i had noticed yesterday and today many young people wearing navy-looking hats, the white top with a small front black brim, it is the first week of june, i supposed it was some kind of end-of-school celebration thing, though i inquired with the barrista, who confirmed it, said 'it is a whole thing, you know'. i remembered then, i had heard something about this once, the graduation ceremonies in sweden being very elaborate, and i had forgotten about it until now. when you finish high school in sweden, you apparantly wear navy-captain-esque hats, and occasionally spray-painted jumpsuits. the hats are quite stylish, and a proper one costs up to three thousand swedish crowns, which is about 300 euros, which seemed to me as insanely expensive, though i reckon there are people in the world who could pull off one of these on a regular day, several years removed. i would guess that in a sibling-heavy household, they would get passed down aswell, a family heirloom, this is my fathers graduation captain hat! do not touch it. it goes back into a glass case after the weeks celebrations are over, for my own child, some time from now. the coffee was good, very good, the barrista was hanging about with some friends stood in the shop, which must be nice for a working day. i left for lunch eventually, it was about two pm now, i had figured out in the time that i could not go directly further south today, i had planned to stop at gavle, on the way to stockholm, but the trains are fully booked both today and tommorow, quite literally, completely full. the other option was a near five hour gauntlet on a coach bus to gavle, for which i would also have to pay full price. that is simply not happening. two hour bus, maybe, but anything over three, not happening. i re-evaluated my options, and eventually found the option of travelling farther north-west, into the middle of the country, and then south-west, along a different rail line, which was still open tommorow. i settled it then, today, to the town of ostersund, tommorow, six hours to uppsala, it houses a very large church, i happen to know, along with probably being a nice place to visit for a day. the day after, i could go to stockholm, it is very close to uppsala. i booked a place to stay in ostersund, a place to stay in uppsala, and a train reservation for the train to uppsala, tommorow at twelve, realizing the whole affair in sweden may be very busy and heavily booked considering the time of year. there was a single cheap hostel remaining in uppsala, and only two beds, in said hostel, i think this is the first time i have booked a place to sleep a day in advance. i left waynes coffee eventually, learning that 'thank you' in sweden is just something that sounds like 'tack', a single word, a single syllable, even, surprising.

a bit west i found a bench, over the river, to look at the big church. by this bench was a mark where somebody had vomited, projectile vomited, while sitting in this very same seat, along with foot-marks where somebody had subsequently walked into the pool and paced around a bit. wonder what happened here. i had my lunch and sat some more, i would take a train at four thirty, two hours from now, time to go find a french press. i wanted a french press now, after this mornings incident. i first visited two second hand stores, one had all kinds of stuff, but not a single french press, the other only clothes, of which mostly polyester, or not in my colour, i would only wear very specific clothing, it is curated, by this point in time, though i do want to Get In To visiting thrift stores, it seems good. there were many people there browsing, and i did browse for a time, their selection of cds and vinyls, mostly just to see what they might be selling, i would not be carrying anything back home. after the second hand stores lended me nothing, i found a department store, which did sell small french presses, i purchased one. people in sweden speak good english, even this middle aged clerk-person spoke crystal clear english to me as he rung the thing up. some more walking, and it was time to head to the station. i sat outside for a bit, observing a young man attempting to do what i can only guess to be scooter-tricks using one of the rentable, green, 'ryde', scooters, failing, and coming very close to falling straight onto the pavement at one point. i entered the station to affirm what platform i had to be on, affirmed it was platform one, which is the platform furthest from the station building, curious enough. on exiting the station, i held the door for a ginger-haired traveller, pushing two rolled suitcases, 'thank you', she said, clearly assuming me to be foreign, which i am. the train journey was calm, a Business person working on a laptop took a call at one point, he had on a three-piece tan suit, white hair, the call did not last long. i read some more of pandaemonium, mentioned previously, along with watching from the window many more great sights, and many more piles of lumber, interchangably.

getting up to exit the train, i grabbed my bag from the overheads, looked to my right, the side to which i was sitting, and saw a black, presumably muslim, family, judging by the mothers head-scarf, all four of them, staring directly at me. i looked away a second, looked back, they still did so, which made me crack up a little. the sweater is putting in work in sweden. at the zipper-technique exiting of the train door, you know how that tends to work on trains, two lines await at the same door, and alternate one person exiting at a time. i came face to face with the same person i held the door for previously, she smiled, waved her hands, i did the same, she did again, i took the offer, a 'thank you', otherwise, we may have been there forever. i tend to be quite unrelenting in allowing people to pass in front of me, when, example given, one arrives at the same moment to a grocery store check-out line as somebody else. not always a good trait, imagine the time lost over twenty five years of doing this, not that i care about that. i saw some of ostersund, which included a handrail up some stairs, i grabbed them, and nearly pulled the whole thing down, it was completely loose, then into a small green area in front of a church, a very strange looking church, it is hard to describe why, but it felt like somebody attempted to create a gothic red-brick church from memory, it simply did not look exactly right, as well as having a gold ornament plating around the top, completely out of place of the whole style. some lads are doing things to a basketball, by a basketball hoop, not really playing basketball, just playing with a basketball, by a basketball hoop. a half-collapsed tent stands on greenery, directly beside the sidewalk, some plastic bags are sticking out it, it may still be inhabited. the whole sequence made me think, ostersund might not be a great town!, it may not even exist at all, a mirage.

i had a thirty euro hostel bed about two kilometers away, close to a store, i went to the store first, bought what i needed, being a meal salad, a pear, and some coffee, real coffee. at the hostel door, the code i was given did not work, reception was already closed. i tried many combinations, and eventually called up the provided number, where, through some communication, i learned i had received an outdated code for the door, somehow, i got the other code after confirming my identity, and the door opened, i got my keycard from a lockbox, all was well. room seven, there are two people in attendance, i pick a random bed, it looked uninhabited, asked the room to confirm it was free, they affirmed, it was free, i was very hungry at this point, nearly feral feeling, i had to eat, and so i left to the kitchen area. this is a large hostel, multiple large hallways, and over twenty rooms, though only a few of those are dorm rooms. a young woman sits in the eating area, i asked where the kitchen is, over there and right, thanks. she had an accent, i could not immediately place it. i constructed my salad, complete with a can of tuna added, classic dinner for me, and made a cup of coffee to go with it, with my new french press device. i have missed a real cup of home-made coffee. in the meantime, the woman had been joined, and sparked up conversation, with an american-sounding woman. i joined them, learned the american-sounding woman, somewhere in her 30s or early 40s, is from alberta, canada, the younger girl, from the netherlands, near groningen. now i could tell, it was a dutch accent. i had not mentioned it until now, but i believe the dutch goal was completed some time ago. finland did not house many dutch! visit finland, if you also wish to avoid overhearing dutch. i came to learn, this girl, she was also coming from sundsvall, not with the train, but by walking, it had taken her close to two weeks, this was one stop on the way to the city of trondheim, the west coast of norway. envyable affair, i wished her the best of luck. she was studying dutch studies, literature, essentially, on a gap year between a bachelors and a masters. maybe i should get into hiking. before me was a true hiker, taking on a month plus route. she had asked me 'are you interrailing', after i described my reason for being in the town of ostersund, yes, a month or so, i am tired, i am only taking trains, she is walking the whole of it, funny to think about. maybe i should not feel as tired as i do, but then again, i do. they both went off to shower, i finished my dinner, and began writing. the whole hostel is quite nice, large seating areas, and what i can only describe as an industrial fridge, the size of a small hostel room, if you recall the tampere coffin-hostel, it was about the size of that room. wonder where they picked that up. there are large terraces, lined by many chairs and tables, i think i will have breakfast there tommorow, weather allowing. i will not oversleep tommorow, the train further is at twelve, and i have no idea when check-out is here. maybe i will be the guy who sets a phone alarm in the hostel dorm room and wakes everybody up at nine, why not! probably not.

05/06/2026 @ uppsala (se)

today would not be an interesting day, i would get up, eat, and leave for the station, to sit on the train all day, to end up at uppsala, half seven. and so it occured. the hiker girl was already packing her bags as i awoke, the american woman was in bed scrolling phone, from the moment i woke, until i left. while having breakfast, a wave in the door from the hiker, good luck, no words exchanged. nobody at the reception by the time i went to leave, being one before eleven, i simply left my keycard there. i made two cups of coffee with my french press, to place in my thermos-thing, a good choice, i enjoyed it on the train later. i will make this a daily ritual, perhaps. it was raining when i left, heavily at that point, so i quickly make my way through crowds, gatherings, and blocked streets, some parade cars, i recall this now, one part of the swedish graduation ceremony is a whole procession involving parade cars. it is a whole thing. a friend from sweden once told me about this, back when i was probably 15 or 14. i have not spoken to him in over five years, i think. wonder where he ended up. i probably will not find out.

i waited at the station for another forty minutes, a crowd slowly gathering. it is a large train, going a long distance, so this makes sense. on boarding, i allowed all passengers to go first, they were waiting in the rain, i was waiting under a cover, the last person boarded with two bags, leaving a mountain-sized suitcase on the platform. i heard the call, i will help ye bring it upward, taking it, discovering it to have the weight as if carrying a dead body. normal sized baggage for a weekender at stockholm, i am sure. we managed it up, 'tack mycket', a new phrase, a variation on the regular 'thank you', probably of a higher order of thanks. the train was very quiet, really, i sat down in my reserved seat, i did reserve one, five euros or so was worth the mental assurance, i was traumatized by learning of the fully booked sundsvall-stockholm line, ending up in an otherwise empty four-seater for most of my six hour journey, very comfortable seating, i will add, overall, a good train of choice for journeys of up to seven hours. many old people on the carriage, one young man over to my right, he got off one stop before me, i witnessed him using Phone the whole way, hopefully something fun. i read some more, listened some more, enjoyed some more, viewed the window some more, witnessing the before mentioned sights again, including an empty log-wagon riding on a rail track, up a hill from us, on its way for more Log, hungry it was, operated by HECTORRAIL, which is a funny name for a rail company. overall, it was peaceful, i had my brewed coffee sip-by-sip, some nuts toward two or three, i did not look at the time exactly, eventually, we arrived to uppsala, where myself and a handful of others disembarked, the majority on their way to stockholm. regarding the book we are reading, pandaemonium, i had mentioned it previously, please enjoy this excerpt, image attached, i hope it will inspire the readers to open up this time sometime.

i entered my abode, a cheap hostel of the Massive Complex kind, sterile, more people living there than people passing through, it felt, nearly no common areas. a man lays in bed, his phone charging in the sockets on the other side of the room, a full strung line, a kind of booby-trap, in front of the door, which i stepped over four times, eventually he disconnected the charger. i left as soon as i came, having visited the kitchen to look at the facilities quickly, headed for dinner, a walk about the town of uppsala, a store nearby sold me a salad and some granola for the morning. in uppsala, i sat by the big church, it is a big church, and observed people walking up, gazing at it, taking pictures, from all sides, the ones i could view anyway. near where i sat was a set of garbage bins, toward these walked a man, opening them up one by one, searching for cans, bottles, and so on, for several minutes, eventually leaving, i do not think he found anything. not even forty five seconds after he left my line of sight, another entered the frame, i might have confused them for the same person, were it not for a different colour shopping bag they carried. at the back of the church are situated some standing stones with runic inscriptions, probably replicas. one of these will be pictured. close to the church, somebody has spilled a container of snus all over the ground near a bar. devastating.

a bit further along, a graveyard, several graveyards. one grave had a similar replica runestone, a massive one, for a gravestone, with half-translitered text and numbers. the person pictured died somewhere in the 1900s, which day exactly, is very much illegible. having a Novelty gravestone is a funny concept, i wonder if this was the deceased their own wish, or something imposed on them, when they were no longer around to object. i would like to be cremated when i die, is my own opinion, burial seems vaguely distasteful. no runestones, in any case. i wonder if one could sue a family member, somebody could get buried in life-changing legal debts, in case the burial procedures are not followed as set forth in the will, a very american affair. i am sure there is at least one case of this, mental damages would be easy to prove, at least, if the gravestone is offensive enough. some more nice parks, one housing ancient looking trees, nice buildings, the castle, on a hill, i will visit it tommorow, probably, walk around the grounds atleast. today is the last day of the graduation week, a friday, which makes it time for festivities. on a hill, on a bench, i wrote most of this post while observing the passing by, it was in front of a road, many young people drive by in all kinds of vehicles, waving flags, yelling, honking, many wearing their captain-hat. most of the young men are now wearing suits, most of the young women dresses, i suppose there may be a kind of formal involved, others are sat in more civilian clothes at bars, and so on, but donning the hat, it is the least they could do. it had been a few hours, close to ten now, eventually, i make my way back to the hostel-thing, intending to finish this post and go to sleep early, my room has no windows, it is a coffin, and the entire atmosphere of the place makes me want to leave whenever possible.

06/06/2026 @ stockholm (se)

i got up this day at about eight thirty. one of my room-mates had gotten up at about four thirtyz switched on the lights, and loudly readied himself. bottle collecting, possibly. i reckoned four-thirty, four forty-five more like, if you leave fast, could be a good time to go bottle collecting. i did not think too much more of it, and went back to sleep. his bags were all gone, but the bed still had sheets, meaning he would be back at some point, or had neglected to deposit his bedsheets as instructed by the lobby attendant. my breakfast, granola, today, where a man offered me various items, he was leaving that day, you can have them if you like, he had left them in the fridge, where they would be removed if unlabeled, common practice in hostels, one part of the tour if one is given, often repeated, very often, they do not know if i know this, and i have no intention to stop them from telling me. i did not charge my phone in the night, but i got up to about sixty percent while eating, this would prove annoying later in the evening. i made up my backpack to leave, passing in and out of the room, my other roommate was still in bed, towards ten thirty when i was leaving, still so, on the phone now, after looking at it, i decided the offered luggage storage was too unattended for such large a place to make use of, the first time i have even considered it, much to the annoyance of council, i ignore their advice, and my body continues to ache for it. an update on this, nothing really hurts that bad anymore, not when walking, anyway, sometimes in the morning my right foot will feel off for a bit, while walking without shoes. im sure this will pass. everything else has. i was going to the church after passing some more random streets, many people are outside, it is open now, a man informs me, there is a concert starting soon, you must wait to walk about. i inquired to the concert, free entry, sit anywhere you like, choir singing. an event it would be then, i sat down in the pews, in view of the make-do stage-area, and the ornate preaching platform, which i must say, is notably gold-laden, these things are always Ornate, this one was borderline indulgant, a gold-dipped sculpture adorns the top, though, the stairs themselves, leading up to the platform, are clearly plain, perhaps the originals collapsed at some point. perhaps.

more people entered, mostly old people in groups of two or three, one person of coloured hair, with a parent, it looked like. close to the start, a woman entered through the right side of the room, to stand in front of the seating, looking at the door, looking for somebody, eventually, waving somebody over, and then joining them by the door, before returning to her seat, bringing into view the Oldest Woman Of All Time. they sit down and converse for a bit, before the woman stands again, and performs the same procedure, this time not finding what she was looking for, before an announcer began speaking into a microphone. he made some announcements, in swedish, interspersed with the occasional english statement, specifically mentioned the 'xyz Illnois Choir xyz', completely switching his tone for the two words. in the middle of this, the woman is has stood up again, waves somebody over, who gets there of his own volition, a man of about the same age. i thought this a funny arrangement, the two are clearly a couple, surely married, with the womans mother, all arriving at random intervals of each other, clearly having agreed to visit the church this morning for the choir singing. our first singing-group entered the stage, and began singing under the conduction of another man. i have a note to make, i do not know if this was simply low-tier choir singing, which i did not specifically know included a conductor, but they seemed completely out of sync, the man in front waving his arms, the singing somewhat(?) following, but not quite, not exactly. it was fine, a decent way to spend some time, i figured, but nothing i would Seek Out. when the first group exited, some more announcements are made, and the next group enters. it is worth mentioning, no applause was given on exit, nobody started it, i did not think about it at first, but after one song of the second group, which i reckoned to be the Illnois group mentioned earlier, they were all dressed particularly for the occasion, a child sitting close to me started clapping, was stopped by his father, and began again afterwards, which then, in my experience, started an applause in the whole room, after which the group performed another song, followed by more applause. i am fully convinced the child started the applause, and people simply followed along both then, and afterwards. a bit rude to the first group. overall, worth experiencing, afterwards, i viewed the church as intended, deciding it was a good church, i especially enjoyed the floor-tombstones, and regular ornate coffins for kings and the like, big fan of those. some of the floor stones contained rings to pull them up, which you would occasionally hear somebody bumping their foot in to.

i continued on to the castle seen yesterday, it housed the local art museum, free entry. from a hill you can get a view of the city, a side-eye of the church, mainly, it houses a bell-stand aswell, with an undersized bell, in my opinion, along with some cannons, on which people were sitting, being a group of seven spanish speakers, an extended family situation it seemed. the museum itself was not that interesting, it was alright, but nothing specifically good, the rooms themselves were a bit boring, for being housed in a castle. one funny thing i did notice was the electronic passcode-based locks on the museum lockers, made by none other than abloy! abloy mentioned. i love the abloy company ever since my encounter in finland. almost every lock i used in finland had abloy disc-detainer locks. i did not visit the other museum on sight, choosing instead to descent for lunch, which would be hummus and bread, from one of the small ICA stores nearby, which i enjoyed by the water. about halfway through, a man offers me something, he is standing in the sun, i cannot well see what for a second. it was a water-ice-cream, no clue how you would call it in english, an 'ice lolly', the man had called it in english. i declined, i did not feel like having one, asking them if they are just handing them out for advertising, or from pure good-will. they pointed to the thing around their body, a green sash(?), i am unsure of the word, in green, with some words i could not make out, explaining themselves to be campaigning for the green party. i wonder if they would have just handed me the water-ice-cream and walked along without specifically pointing it out, or if they would have asked me whom i was voting for. i engaged them in conversation for a bit, they asked how long i have been living here, i said i was only passing through, pointing to the backpack, long travels, the younger man had done the inter-rail thing once, he said, he was from germany, studied here in sweden, and decided to stay. they moved on eventually, they had to get on with their 'ice-lollies', i joked not to let them melt, which got a laugh out of the older man, and off they were. a family passed by, americans, i think, a small child announces to his father, 'i want to race now', the father obliged it, the child and the sibling line up, kind of, one had a significant head start, the father gives the '321go', very non-chalantly, neither of them took notice of it, 'go' is heard again, and they zip off. the child who called the race had no chance, absolutely zero, left in the dust entirely. i finished my meal, and would be taking a train at three to stockholm, the station is nearby, i did not know what else to do in uppsala that day. i felt vaguely tired the whole day, lethargic, unsure by what causing.

the train ride included a man in a four-seater, in front of me, being part of a group of four in the four-seater, doing tech-deck tricks on the provided table, a sight i have never seen on a train before, i think. they were discussing various things in swedish, i could not make out what, except that at one point, a wikipedia page was pulled up and read aloud to the group, in english, it sounded to be about a manufacturer of steel drinking-flasks. curious. we arrive at stockholm, we depart the train, we are in a large and busy city again, and it shows, you cannot walk in the station without somebody getting in your way, exiting, you are on a large street, which runs over another large street, both very busy, though you will remember, today is the national holiday. i seem to just be catching these, i think that is three national holidays witnessed in total on the trip, or important holidays in different countries, anyway. i made my way to the lower streets, the hostel is nearby. now let me tell you about this hostel. the generator stockholm, which has sixteen thousand good reviews, it was not the cheapest, nor the best, but it was the only one with flexible check-in times, the others available for booking one day before a national holiday went as low as a 4.X rating, out of ten, on booking-dot-com, or required one to check-in between times such as two to five in the mid-day, which i just cannot commit to. the generator stockholm it would be then, highly rated, and seemingly very popular, i assumed it would be another affair like i stayed in uppsala, a massive block of generally clean, sterile, living arrangements, with nothing much else to note, a pure profit-making venture. what i found instead, is a hostel where the only common room available is a bar, no kitchens, i repeat, no kitchens, you cannot even boil water in this place, and one shared bathroom per room, with the strangest drainage system i have seen so far; the shower area is lightly recessed into the ground, but does not contain a drain, the bathroom floor contains a drain, at ground level, elevated above the actual room floor. genuinely mesmerizing room design. i can not imagine who would construct this thing. i will post a picture of it tommorow, i forgot to take one. i have not been able to put this thing out of my mind so far, i am almost assured that these carpeted rooms must routinely be flooded over. there was nobody in the room when i arrived, and i had to do laundry, there is a laundromat right across the street, and so i visited it.

this was another automated laundromat, the only type i would personally use. a conversation is on-going, an elderly british couple, and a relatively speaking, younger, man, sounding american. laundromats attract people from all over, but in a slightly more natural manner than the hostel might. i did not join in the conversation, i had no idea what had been discussed or what was being discussed, but it seemed to be about what the american did for work, it involved travelling, he was a kind of trainer, or something like that, to some type of athlete-group. it was not clear to me. they were discussing the washery aswell, they considered it very modern, very good washing machines, 'high-end' was used. eventually, two younger lads entered, and made the same conclusion, this seems good, modern machines. the two lads left after putting in their washing, and eventually, so did the older couple, after some more conversing, related to the dryness of their clothes, 'this will do, yes', noted the older woman, which gives you a taste of what her general speech sounded like, very old-guard, high-class. the conversation was caused, i learned, by some advice the other man must have given them on the operation of the machines in this specific laundromat, i supposed he must use them often, or have been in this establishment quite a few times at least, as he explained to me, while in the process of leaving, the dryer only has a program for one hour, but your clothes will probably be dry in thirty minutes, along with this, he passed the knowledge that you cannot open the dryer to observe the dryness of your clothes, it will cancel the running program. good to know, as opening the dryer to check the general moisture isa studied technique i employ every time. this left me alone for a second, where i observed the surroundings a bit. eventually, the two lads from earlier returned, and without even saying a word, they both had earbuds in, put their things into a dryer, and sit down to use the phone for the remainder of their visit, one holding it vertical, viewing Things, the other horizontal, tapping away at something. another group of two entered, which also made the conclusion, 'oh yeah, this is good, it is modern'. maybe i was the person most accustomed to the self-service-laundromat in the room by this point, but, my conclusion was different, this was a sub-par self-service-laundromat. there is only one size of washer and dryer, one cannot open the dryer, the dryer lacks options for temperature, and it has a strange mix of fifty-fifty washing machines and dryers, instead of a more natural sixty-five-thirty-five, perhaps. the interior uses those custom-made fake neon led-lights as decoration, people love those, one of them noted 'this was not the place for dirty habits', the latter two words being in a bright pink, the whole of it nearly illegible by it, it is a colour that does not work in natural light. in addition to this, the whole building is completely not up to code, there is a white, 'minimally' branded, fire extinguisher near the entrance. a fire department inspector would have a field day with this. maybe he would not, perhaps there is no law in sweden that fire extinguishers have to be red, marked by a red sign, like in most countries. i will not look it up. i opened the dryer after about thirty minutes, and my clothes were still quite wet, though not terribly so. whatever, good enough, it is probably for the best, they will be dry by the evening, probably.

i returned to the hostel, there were now two people in my room, i gave them a nod, and hung up the clothes that still needed drying, no further interaction given, it is a rude thing to do, but what am i supposed to do, the clearly listed rules do not mention hang-drying clothes specifically, some others specifically mentioned it as being not allowed, i leave for dinner and a look about stockholm. i would have maybe wanted to attend a film, they were screening an old swedish film with english subtitles at 6:15, but i would not make it in time. various sights were seen, some nice buildings, it is a pretty city, for what it is. in front of one such building, a woman of a group stops to take a picture, i walk past a bit more, and note a sign in front of this historic building, marked XYZ ASSET MANAGEMENT / TEN CHAMBERS, which seemed an advertisement to rent space in this building. very funny. i had a salad and some fruits from a seven-eleven, they have them in sweden, i guess, it might just be stockholm, pretty expensive, but, as i sat down to eat in the park area by the observatory, it was quite good as-well. while doing so, i saw a massive rat, like, titanic, scuttling along my feet, along with many groups of Tourist, all kinds. travelling in a troupe of eight just cannot be all that fun. i walked some more, nothing specific was noted, and i found my way back to the hostel, mostly on account of my phone battery nearing fifteen percent. i mentioned previously, there is no seating area. you can sit in the bar, which tonight was hosting karaoke, i learned, or in the room, which by this point contained four different people i had not spoken a word to, somehow less comfortable than a karaoke bar for writing in. a group of about fourteen french women is in attendance, having constructed a make-shift fort out of a booth and two tables, they are sitting behind me. that is all for today.

07/06/2026 @ stockholm (se)

this morning, i overheard a group of room-mates speaking american sports, while still half asleep. from this, and their soft accents, i guessed them american, though they left before i got up. i waited for them to leave really, i did not want to emerge from my top bunk mostly naked while they sat there speaking. i quickly readied myself, recall, there is no kitchen here, i would just be leaving for breakfast, et-cet-era, though they did make a decent espresso in the bar-cafe-social-room downstairs. some lads, british accent, were already knocking down pints. it was about ten-fifteen by leaving, my target, a green area on the east of this stretch of land, stockholm is spread over a few islands and mainland parts, this is the part of the city with the central station. i walked to a metro station, passing the azerbaijan embassy, we love seeing random embassies, visited a store by the metro station, a coop store, one of the good ones, and bought both breakfast and lunch, before boarding the metro towards east, exiting at karlaplan. here, i had another espresso at one location of the chain Espresso House, they actually make good coffee, by my limited standards. i walked further east, passing a funny sign left by the roadside, it would become relevant later, into the green plains, and encountered a view of some nice statues, a large tower rising out of the trees, and an ongoing Event of some kind. on a hill, i could spy some portable toilets, a mass of people. it was still a-way-aways, so i walked there along this cleared plain in the quite hot sun, witnessing an ongoing football game, complete with whistling. next to the hill is one part of a gravel track, with red liner and high-vis people present. i was a bit scared i would not be able to get all the way east, perhaps the whole thing was put off for some kind of rally. i navigated the hill, giving me now a view of various cars, mostly novelty items, old ones, food stands, more people, though i could see the crowd thinned out further along, people walking dogs or jogging in the distance, probably, i could find my way. i passed further along, asking a high-vis man at a crossroad about how large the block-off area would be, he told me, if you go a bit south, you can go around, and i did. i did not have to go far south, this was no race, i guess they were just slowly driving their old cars around a small gravel track, for whatever reason, people observing the procession.

i passed some horse fields, many horse fields, and horse-riding-roads, it made me imagine the person carrying that sign from earlier was protesting this very area, some small settled area, then back to more nature, eventually ending up at a pet cemetary, two people were sitting on a bench there. a bit further along, we were at the coast, made up here of a thin rock beach, which i followed until i stumbled upon some wooden plates set down to create a seating area, with a table. i sat on the table, it was the most stable, and began eating my bread and hummus. enjoy video, it was a nice view. a man on a kayak passed, i waved, he hey-hey-ed me back. i relaxed for a time before continuing on, following the coast south, past some large marinas, they had a whole rail line set up to move boats up and down from there, eventually, i took a bus back to the city, making my way a bit south afterwards, towards an island housing the nationalmuseum, being the main art museum in stockholm, not before stopping for another espresso, this one was over five euros. whatever. it was not even good. the museum was good. i cannot sum up everything they have, but it is the usual serving, continental art ranging from the fifteen hundreds to the modern age, the earlier rooms were better than the latter, and i wish they had more sculptures, objects, than paintings, but that is my opinion. in a section regarding modern design, a cabinet houses what i know to be a teenage engineering op-1 synthesizer, which is a funny object to have there. a different temporary exhibition, the holy grail itself, an eames lounge chair. many people who know me will know the significance to seeing an eames lounge chair in real life. the associated plate marked that our exhibition subject regretted buying it for a long time, on account of its price, which is understandable. you could travel around europe for probably three or four months or buy an eames lounge chair new. it is hard to say which would bring more joy. i think it would be an eames lounge chair. at one of the exhibitions, a i caught a man staring at me, i looked back at him, but he doubled down, quite literally gazing up and down, and back again, at me with a Horrified look in his eyes. i gave him a head signal, so as to ask, whats up, to which he looked away. good encounter. it may have been due to the sweater hanging from my hips, or something else. i moved on to the contemporary museum, on the next island over, which was alright, i have little to say, i am a bit tired. one piece was about somebody who pretended to be commiting suicide on a bridge, the whole thing caught on film from a distant window, now playing here, including about five minutes of struggle as she taken into Custody and unwillingly dragged into an unmarked police van. a sign outside denoted that the piece contained ideas and imagery related to suicide, which was true. one piece had an accurate representation of what the azerty keyboard layout looks like, which is rare to see! view image, another, a funny story about an advertising mast, a model of it anyway, displayed at a fair of some kind, causing one man to completely avoid the whole thing, saying that 'it must cause nightmares'. he is right, i have had them. this one is presented without comment. they were pre-blurred, i am not that bad at taking photographs

a bit further south, on another island, these are all small islands, a castle, some benches, where i ate what was very late lunch, a meal-salad, they have good meal-salads here. i figured out what to do next, it was about six now, it would be the old town, close by, i walked it. the old town of stockholm is very impressive, the main castle mainly, the rest is the lowest of the low, bordering on a prague-tier tourist-enclave. i have no words on it. simple, unmarked signs advertise CAFE and RESTAURANT, no specific name given, filled with people knocking down twenty euro glasses of wine, very cultured. i sum it up with this attached image, taken by one car-laden entranceway. on the way in, some lads are fishing from a bridge into the river below. i wanted to ask what they catch around here, but found no way to word it. i walked about there for an hour or so, deciding afterwards, i was hungry, still, another island west had more greenery, i could take a metro through one of the south areas of the city, have a gander whats going on there, and go sit in the green for dinner proper. the metro runs about every nine minutes on that line, i got off at one stop, exited, there was a store nearby, before re-boarding the next, arriving just as it did, for one more station. this was a quiet living area, very quiet compared to the part i am staying in, very nice to walk about in, this is the soderhalm island, western side. down a hill, over a bridge, enter Boat Town. there are buildings on the island, but also rows of boat houses, which are cool, completely unpractical, i do not trust people who genuinely live on a boat house. the area was nice, there was a small beach, but too many people occupying it, not relaxed enough, i sat on a hill, on a bench, a couple behind me joined shortly after, swinging on a large basket-swing, you know the type, a large ring with a net where multiple people can fit on. i had bought another meal salad and two croissants, a pear, dinner-dinner. after this, i navigated toward the metro back, being passed by a man whistling along, downhill, he slowed down a bit, turned his head, and gave me a long, deep, nod, making sure i saw him. a peaceful life, he must lead. a group of teenage girls, four of them, were behind me on entering the metro. three entered, one stayed, they made signs at each other for about forty seconds, the girl in the window, as the metro leaves, miming the act of chasing after it, noo, no, i had to be on that metro, no, it read. it was a good performance. the metro in stockholm seems good, there are multiple lines going different places, it works, for what i needed from it. i do like riding the metro.

back at the hostel, one of the presumed americans was present, whom i engaged in conversation. tavin from michigan, welder, he makes parts for boats, fishing boats, recreational fishing boats, not industrial fishing boats. tavin, he was not sure how his parents came to the name, gavin, with a t, he explained it, they made it up. we spoke about his travels, he was in europe for the second time, also having purchased an interrail thing with his cousin and one other unknown, it did not come up in conversation, having been to hamburg, berlin, wroclaw, copenhagen, prague, and vienna. a good list. they would be making their way back to america in a day or two, i understood it, he was dreading the six hour drive home from the airport, an american ideal. we spoke on accents, american nature, being the national parks and forests, he recommended me to visit the forests, much less crowded, differences between the states, united, and europe, canada, the shape of some of the united states, the shape of the canadian provinces, fishing culture, he informed me of the fact that you can shoot and eat bull sharks, one per day, if he remembered, my own travels, i gave him the laundry list, telling him about narva, he had seen a video of the blocked up narva bridge, actually. tavin from michigan has finnish ancestry, he explained, finnish and swedish, they still have contact with some distant family from back home. i did not know about finnish immigration, old finnish-based villages, in america. i regret not mentioning the mormons, he could have gotten something funny about that, i will try to do so in the morning. he was performing an action before i spoke to him, which looked like journalling, he had a pen and a notebook with pen-written words. we are one and the same in that way, i left him to journal eventually, and sat in the bar area to do the same. tommorow, we will be leaving stockholm, and this awful, awful, hostel, has a ten am checkout time. awful. good night.

08/06/2026 @ karlstad (se)

i got up early today, i had to deposit my keycard by ten in the morning, which i do not really mind. i notice myself lounging about a bit when i have a late check out time, realistically, i could get out of the door faster, reducing my tth (time to hummus) in the morning. one girl in the room spent about fifteen minutes before i got out of bed and all the way until i left alternating between the two mirrors in the room making small make-up adjustments. the two mirrors were located to the right of my bed and on the door to the in-room bathroom, which i will add, was made up of a bright red plastic box, set to the right of the door into this square room. every time somebody passed in or out of bathroom, she would move to the other mirror for a bit, then back to the bathroom, until, inevitably, one of the other five people occupying the room, busy with getting out of the door in time, would motion to use the bathroom door again. it had better lighting, was the reason she preferred it, i supposed. i left the room at about 9:15, wishing tavin and his unnamed cousin farewell. i looked up tavin, and from the search results, it seems an exceedingly uncommon name, not entirely novel, but practically so. i had another overpriced espresso at the bar, while viewing the map some more, how could i spend my morning until my train, i decided on the haga park north-west, not before witnessing a man walk in, asking about a lost and found, he had left an ear-ring, a small ear-ring, in his room, two weeks ago. an extremely funny request, he asked it in a tone of distress, like this had just happened, he had left ten minutes ago and forgotten something, but no, two weeks ago, in an unnamed room, an ear-ring was left. they did not find something in the lost and found drawer, told him sorry, to which he dismissed it as, ah, it does not matter anyway, and left. sounded like cope. i like to imagine he was in stockholm again, but staying somewhere else, his last experience soured by forgetting his ear-ring. to the store, all the essentials, in the metro, on a bus, we are at the haga park by about ten fifteen, there are many people, large paved walkways, an oversized clearing houses what looks like a school gathering, the kind where you go to the local park and play Games during physical education class.

i walked for a bit, and came to a hill, a small trail leading up to it, i pushed up, it was not that high, a few half collapsed trees and branches in the path, signs that it is not often used, leading me to a nice rock face, facing the lake front, a paved path left, passing by one of the historical buildings in this park. i sat here for an hour, probably, including breakfast. some people were kayakking on the lake, somebody might have waved up at me from the path below, it was hard to tell. by these rocks, a large cage rises from the ground, a circular hole about three meters in diameter, directly into the rock, it seems to just end into a semi-flat bottom. it does not look drilled, its very uneven at the sides, but clearly a perfect circle in the big-picture. strange. down the hill, and a bit further, on the map it noted some ruins, up another uncommonly navigated hill, directly up from a paved track, some people looked at me for walking straight up this hill, clearly, they had not looked at the map and heard about these ruins. i liked the ruins, i learned, online, the king at the time wanted to build a big palace here, they got about done with the foundations, but he was killed, and they stopped working on it, so, now, there are foundations, consisting of a mostly even stone surface, starting on a hill, and ending far off the hill, making a large wall, good for me to walk around in, people to make fires in, and if i had to guess, by deduction, at least one person to have get seriously hurt falling off one of the circa ten meter straight drops at the far end. one part of the foundations consists of a circular hole with a few meters tall circular pillar, you could probably climb up, to sit there, Meditate, though i did not attempt it, i was alone. i spent another hour or more here relaxing and reading a bit, nobody passed me by. when i eventually left, there was a deer in the path. it seemed not very scared of me, it saw me approaching, and kept on eating the grass after i stopped, even taking a few steps toward me, after waiting to see how far it would come toward me, it seemed fruitless, as i approached more, it would keep its distance about equal, never fully running off, just taking a few steps along with me. we reached a bench, where it crossed over a hill, and was not seen again. i turned left to take a route out of the park now. i would not mind another coffee, and so on.

there was a train at three, it was about one. i walked about some more, but eventually sat down to just have coffee, read, cutting it pretty close to actually making my train in the end, i really had plenty of time, but one of the trams got cancelled because of a 'signalling fault', whatever that means. platform eleven at stockholm central, two large trains about to arrive, you simply could not enter the platform, people were lined all the way from the top of the staircase to where-ever. five minutes by the staircase, both trains arrive, i wait some more, and finally enter after the mass. on the train ride, i made some calculations, where will i be in a week or so, i am on a homeward journey now, i should make sure i get home in time, where else can i go in the time. i might circle back to berlin, it will probably line up well with a good weekend to visit. tommorow, we are going to oslo, afterwards, a friend a bit further along in norway. we get the authentic norway experience with a norwegian, fun. anyhow, today, karlstad, sooner than expected, we are in karlstad at six in the evening. tonight, we are sleeping in a bed and breakfast, i have plans to just leave early, go to oslo, there is nothing much interesting here. i went to the bed and breakfast, about two kilometers from the station, i took the scenic route through the town, it is another cool swedish town, they like their bronze statues over here, especially in these historic towns. i went to the store for dinner, a meal salad, sardines, some fruit, dinner. at the bed and breakfast, located next to a big road, a big red cottage looking building, completely detached from anything else, quite nice really, there is a desk, but nobody at the desk. i sit in a leather couch facing it for at least twenty minutes, nobody there, it is approaching the end of check-in time, i called the number. a phone is heard going off in three different directions, somebody picks up, ah, yes, i am coming, and a man speaking in a very funny nordic accent emerges to hand me my keys, a sub one minute affair. should have just called, but no worries, time to retire for the day, about seven thirty. when i exited the room to look for the shower, after eight, the end of the check-in time, the desk that was there before was just gone. they move the whole desk to a different room every night. great. in the hallway, a sign tells you to call the police if you 'suspect human trafficking or prostitution', a good sign, a reputable location.

09/06/2026 @ karlstad (se)

my bed and breakfast room did indeed come with breakfast, they had cucumbers, and so on, but i would have had to un-saran-wrap it and cut it up myself, which, somehow, felt as intrusive in my head, making yourself too much At Home, are you, cutting up vegetables, in this house? some crackers with jam, then, and a slice of chocolate cake, an odd addition to the breakfast line-up, but not unwelcome. i had two cups of coffee from my french press, there were filter coffee machines, but no coffee made, this was easier. it lined up so that, if i hurried a bit, i could take a train at ten thirty, and i did, walking not hurriedly, but maintaining a Pace, assured. it was good weather out, sunny, warm. i reach the train station, give it a few minutes, there is the train, it is sparsely populated, i sit near the door. on the front of my seat is an advertisement for some type of skiing competition, the varlds cup helgen, taking place on the fourteenth and fifteenth of march, 2026, i just missed it, unfortunate, visit worldcupare dot com to learn more. the other passengers in this cabin include one woman to my right, interspersing looking at the phone, which is itself looking out of the window, recording, more general phone use, also, looking out of the window, manually. another sits by a four seater, laying down on two seats for most of the ride. i listened to some music, enjoyed some sights, the like, more reading. everything passes without further incident. at some point, we enter a rain storm, just about after entering norway, bad omen. we reach oslo, where it is raining, at this point lightly, it would be raining most of the day.

my first encounter for the day would be one beggar, two beggars, one quoted as saying 'my children, food', to which i replied 'no way thats crazy', which she replied with 'one cigarette, please, one cigarette', amusing pivot, only in that order, the other way would not have been as amusing; three beggars, and so on, we are not even two streets off the station, four, five, intermission! a man asking if i live in oslo, no, 'ah', he wanted to give me a survey on emergency response ambulances, how they can improve 'the service'. i wanted to ask him if i could see the questions, but left him to it instead, he seemed to be on a timer, i did not want to spend his time argumentating my case that random street interviews cannot be the best way to gauge the consumer satisfaction of Riding Ambulance. i visit a store, bread, and somehow, i end up buying pea hummus to go with it. it was not very flowy, pretty solid, and not bad as i first expected, its different, probably slightly below regular hummus. i have never seen this product in my life, it may be a norwegian thing. i walked along a few parks, which had no sufficient tree cover on the benches, and ended up in the pride flag and graffiti neighbourhood, bikes on every sidewalk, and so on, there, a circular park, where i made my camp. it is raining pretty bad at this point, but, i must eat. two other people sit down, toss some part of whatever they are eating to a gull, what do you know, it begins cawing, and ten more show up, now eye-ing me up. if you just do not give in, and do not present fear, along with the food not being appealing enough, they will leave, and they did. many people passed by, hurriedly, wishing to leave the rain, i had no choice. one woman passed by, smiled at me, making absolutely sure i saw, i reciprocated. i wonder if she thought me homeless, doing a good deed by smiling at the homeless, or just saw that i was Enjoying Myself. i leave eventually, and enter the first coffee shop in the random street i walked down afterwards.

one double espresso, i had about twenty minutes to kill before i could go drop off my bags, which turned into two espressos, i read a bit in the shop, overhearing two different conversations between two different sets of british girls, far too loud for a coffee shop, the volume of both intermixed, you could not make out either one, so it served as white noise, instead of a distracting conversation. when i went to exit, i did exit, the rain was completely overpowering. i gave it another few minutes, it was not letting up, so we just walk through it, about a kilometer more, it did stop raining, almost entirely, after a few hundred meters. i always like when it is clearly not umbrella-weather anymore, but people have not realized yet, still donning the umbrella, makes you feel more in the know. the place we are staying in tonight, and the next, is a twenty-six bed dorm room for sixty euros. whatever. twenty-six, but, on arrival, the setup is really not bad. nobody is directly facing anybody else, except for four unlucky people in the middle, they really could just put a small wall up and make the whole thing airtight, though this is the kind of Nice hostel where you get Curtains. we will see how the sleep goes. i have a bed by the window, at the far end of the room, facing the window, where nobody is realistically walking, probably, the best place in the entire twenty-six bed-room. i store my bag and exit, generally heading for a big park on the west part of town i was told to visit. it is still raining, i first walk about random streets for a bit, leading me into more than one dead end inside a disgustingly idyllic neighbourhood nearby. you would imagine it the set of a 50s norwegian family sit-com. i took a tram toward the west, found a store for lunch, meal salad, two croissants, a Smoothie, i like the store smoothie, but they are expensive, the ones that are just fruit juice, but, sometimes, still, i will buy them. this store had a mesmerizing ui design on the self-checkout, please view image.

this park contains many sculptures, i think bronze, of human figures, and some animals, in all kinds of positions, interweaved, piled on, hands, arms, legs, twined together. smaller details below the sculptures continue the same themes in a relief. a woman saw me looking at the first statue i came upon, which i took a picture of, as i slow-walked down the stairs, she spoke to me, perfect english. she asked me, where from, what does the sweater say, are your parents from iran, asking the question just to ask, i clearly do not look iranian, do you have any opinions on what is going on there, we agreed, we cannot have real opinions, it depends, and, above all, it is Complicated. she was curious 'who pays for me', which is myself, wasting my own money, i said, 'not wasting, investing!', 'keep travelling', was her advice, and she walked along with her dog, which she had unleashed somewhere halfway through the conversation, though she noted there is a rule you must keep them leashed around this time, you will get fined for an unleashed dog, for the benefit of the small animals, and so on. the dog itself was also small, very, so she did not see a problem with it every now and again. i walked about the whole park, it is quite a sight from the top hill, all the way down the main path, though, not helped by the amount of tourists. it was serene in parts, nobody in sight, and positively impossible not to watch somebody in the act of taking a picture at others, which i did, while eating my lunch-dinner-whatever. i took another tram eventually, going to the docks, the woman i spoke to had told me to go to the docks. i went to the industrial rail yard, by the docks, finding some empty excercise and outdoor hang-out spots which would surely be filled with people, if not for the weather.

it was about approaching seven, and i gathered i may want to see a film. a 20:30 showing of a 2025 park chan-wook film! with english subtitles! yay. 'no other choice' it would be. i slowly made my way toward the location, using a public bathroom with a five crown fee in a park nearby, i exited, to which i overheard an english couple wondering how much 'the fee' might be. the girl had an insanely british accent, i could not resist, i spoke that it was five crowns, 'ooooh thannkkk yooouu!', i walked along for a second, before doubling back, an encounter, i will force it. the girl was from suffolk, the man, vaguely north english, you can tell by the accent, we were speaking on accents, where we came to the conclusion, it has hard to describe what makes an accent northern or southern english, but i know it when i hear it. i visit the cinema, it is another one of these very relaxed types, there is a bar with comfortable seating, few people, a good cinema. i waited for another ten minutes or so, before joining the eight or so other viewers for the film. it is a park chan-wook film, i like all the ones i ever saw, joint security area is one of my favorites of all time. there is a sequence in this film that contains extremely loud music, people yelling over it, and it goes on for such a long time that it becomes completely comical. the whole film is layered with humor, it works, the nine person audience was audibly giggling, alongside, many great shots. there is one of a meandering driveway, filmed from a meander, the left side, a car, three bright yellow trees, the right, the rest of the trail, brown-green nature, the middle, a treeline. i recommend the film, please view the film. i got home with one incident, i walk past two british women on a bridge, they pause their conversation for a second, then i overhear some six steps later, 'soooooo tall!!', 'riiight?', its not untrue. the whole city is pretty, a bit more grungy than stockholm, for sure, enjoyable, i like graffiti. tommorow, more oslo.

17/04/2026 @ aachen (de)

18/04/2026 @ dortmund (de)