Airbnb has a nasty little habit of pulling a bait and switch. Not with listings but locations.
Booking within a major metropolis is fairly straightforward, but try to find accommodation outside the city limits and suddenly your results include every property in a 20 or 30-kilometer radius. If you’re not familiar with the area you’re visiting, it’s very possible to end up in an entirely different destination – a catch-all location that Airbnb casually describes as “places nearby.”
This is a long way of saying that last week, when I tried to visit Hanko, a coastal town that’s sometimes referred to as “the Finnish Riviera,” I made a rookie mistake and booked an apartment in a “place nearby” – a town called Tammisaari, which is 30 minutes away by a bus that only runs every two hours.
I realized this mistake only after arriving in Hanko and trying to walk to the Airbnb, which was supposed to be just a short distance from the station. It was—the station in Tammisaari, which I only remembered from my bus ride to Hanko because three men who were very eager to explore the town’s glass museum got off at the stop.
Just in case there’s any Tammisaari fans out there, I should say that the town has a lot more to offer than glass. For example, there is a special art exhibition in town about bathrooms. This is something we discovered quite by accident when we walked past a porcelain toilet set in a glass case beside a lake.
Several meters across the grass, we came across another exhibit, that being a metal dish full of water. A strategically placed speaker underneath the pan caused vibrations that made the water move and emit oddly pitched notes.
Valtteri, who has worked in the art world for more than a decade pretended to be impressed with this exhibit. He even tried to engage me in a conversation about how he could “make this work for an indoor exhibition.” I let him roll for a good few minutes before pointing out that every nail salon in New York has something similar by the front door. Perhaps they could give him some installation ideas.
But, look, that’s Tammisaari. It was my mistake to have booked an apartment in the wrong town, but that didn’t mean I had to spend my time standing around making fun of second-rate art. Hanko, I was certain, would be far more exciting. I was told that there would be bikes that could take us to beaches that would lead us to boats, which would be stocked with rosé.
That was my plan for Saturday, until we ran into two of Valtteri’s friends from work who were actually on holiday in Hanko. They immediately offered to take us to one of the town’s best-known locations—Hiidenkirnu, or Heathen’s churn. It’s a hole in a rock caused by another rock spinning around sometime after the ice age.
Here we are enjoying the view. Take that, toilet exhibition.
In fairness, Finland isn’t exactly a world-class tourist destination. Even in Helsinki, you’d be hard pressed to find an attraction that rivals what most other major cities in Europe have to offer. In fact, if you look up the page for our new neighborhood, Jätkäsaari, you’ll see that the fourth best thing to do is visit a place called Verkokauppa.com. It’s an electronics store.
Even though Hanko was shaping up to be more port city than Riviera, I wasn’t ready to give up on my vision of a posh weekend. I was working my way through my third glass of champagne on dry land when, on the way back from the rest room, I noticed a harbor office adjacent to the bar.
Too tipsy to know better, I waltzed in and immediately asked the man behind the counter where I might be able to rent a jet ski. He looked perplexed. “We don’t do that,” he answered.
I ran my hand along the edge of the counter, where a variety of brochures had been laid out. “Well do you have any wildlife tours?” I asked. Quite honestly, I didn’t have much interest in that activity, but since I still had one day left of my birthday weekend, I figured I would rather spend it looking at seals than rock craters.
“No,” he replied. He paused, considering his words. He sighed, then finally said, “Ma’am this is a harbor office.”
I shrugged and scowled back at him, as if to say And your point is? In hindsight, I probably should have stopped there, but instead I followed up with a question about day tours to Sweden.
“No, we don’t do that,” the man said. He seemed to be torn between losing his patience and being amused. “This is an office where people who have boats come if they need a place to dock.”
“So I need to have my own boat is what you’re saying?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “This is a harbor office. For boat owners.”
I stuck my nose in the air. “Well then what’s with the brochures?” I countered. “This looks like a visitor’s center.”
He nodded. Just for show, I pretended to look at some safety posters on the wall, then picked up a trail map before heading out the door. “Well I won’t be going back there,” I announced to Valtteri in a huff, upon returning to the table. Even if I do own a boat someday, I certainly won’t just wander into town looking for a place to park it. I’d arrange that in advance. Likely two counties over, where the rates are lower.
While we’re back on the subject of Tammisaari. let me tell you about breakfast, which could be purchased at one of two places that are open before noon. I pointed out the sandwich I wanted to Valtteri, who then relayed that information in Finnish to the barista, who spoke Swedish. Long story short, I ended up getting served the next sandwich over, which was salami and hardboiled egg.
“They call this sandwich the Tammisaari,” I quipped to Valtteri as I scraped egg off a slice of Edemal cheese.
“They do?” he asked.
“Yep,” I replied. “It’s right next to the one you wanted, but you’ll just have to make do.”
Anyone familiar with Finland is probably fighting the urge to leave me a comment about how Finnish destinations are about nature, not yachts. The Finns don’t pride themselves on weather or food or culture or wine, but they love their trees.
Rest assured, I tried to appreciate that as Valtteri and I set off on a nature walk in Tammisaari to find the park’s headline attraction, which was Finland’s tallest elm. We got all the way to the grove only to find that there were no additional markers for that particular tree. It’s hard to explain why I was disappointed by not getting to see this tree, specifically, but somehow I was—just the latest addition to a bouquet of letdowns.
Just a few seconds later, in rolled a pair of German tourists who came prepared with a pair of binoculars and a tape measure. They, too, were looking for the elm and seemed to be willing to go to great lengths to locate it. Exciting as that sounded, I opted to head back into town. There was a funeral procession at noon that I wanted to catch.
All jokes aside, we did have some nice times in Hanko and Tammisaari and the places nearby. The weekend was not yachts and rose or jetskis and cocktails or even fish and beer, but we made our way to a few charming little beaches and made the best of it.
As someone who tends to get hung up on signs and is especially superstitious about setting the tone for the year, I couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive about kicking off 39 on such a dour note. I mean, How could I hope to arrive happily at 40 if I didn’t even start in the right place? I know happiness is a choice, but sometimes I find it easier to choose happiness when riding a jetski.
I was trying my best to look past the lackluster start to the year when, on our bike ride back to town, I spotted two eagles flying directly overhead. They circled a few times then moved on, eventually disappearing in the general direction of Finland’s tallest elm. I took that as a good omen, despite the internet trying to suggest that such a sighting was, in fact, a bit more complicated.
Either way, that was a moment and they are a symbol. Of expansion, strength, victory, action, and manifestation. I was desperately in need of something positive, so I took it.
Here’s the spirit of the eagle, this year and the next, in places near and far.
“They call this sandwich the Tammisaari” had me in stitches.
I live my life in Tammisaari mode…. I have an ideal in my head but have to settle for something close. Hey, it works.
right??? you and me both. but hey. gotta eat that sandwich.
SAME, JUDY. Cheers to you finding a yacht stocked with rose at some point very soon for a part deux celebration, Nova!
“Dust of Snow” was the first poem I had all my children memorize when they were, you know, children. Pretty much grown-ups, now, but they still know that poem. Thanks for including it with such a beautiful photo.
yes, i love that poem. and the view aint bad either. xx
“a bouquet of letdowns”
The perfect words, haha. Happy 39!
ha. ok, so I have to admit i got that from a docuseries I was watching on netflix called Sophie something or other. it’s about a french woman who gets murdered in ireland. anyway, one of the interviews explains that unlike some countries justice systems which are based on the premise of “guilt beyond a reasonable doubt” the french base it on a concept that translates more or less to “a bouquet of evidence.” i should not be laughing during a crime show, but i tell you i HOWLED. because of course they do. of course.
“Just for show, I pretended to look at some safety posters on the wall” and “The Finns don’t pride themselves on weather or food or culture or wine, but they love their trees” – these lines really tickled me!
The harbor master story and the Germans with their tree measuring tools made me chuckle.
worst jet ski rental ever. (valtteri had to be me not to write that yelp review)