GruffyddA Journal Entry
Helsinki was one of those trips that came and went in a blur, early March, freezing cold, the kind of air that wakes you up before the coffee does. I don’t remember every detail, but I remember the feeling: quiet streets, snow that never quite melted, and a city that felt calm in a way I didn’t know cities could be.
It was still part of my 2023 run of European getaways, another quick, cheap flight and a few nights in a hostel. I didn’t go with anyone, but like all these trips, you never really stay alone for long.
First Impressions
The first thing that hit me stepping out of the airport was silence. No horns, no shouting, no rush, just cold air and an orderly calm that felt strange after places like Budapest or Kraków. The streets were spotless, the trams glided by quietly, and even the snow seemed to fall politely.
Helsinki doesn’t shout for your attention. It’s understated, beautiful in a minimalist, “less is more” kind of way.
The Markets & The Sea
One of my favourite memories was wandering through the Old Market Hall (Vanha Kauppahalli) by the harbour, the smell of freshly baked cinnamon buns, grilled salmon, and strong Finnish coffee filling the air. Locals moved slowly, chatting softly with vendors. I tried lohikeitto (salmon soup), steaming hot, served with rye bread, the perfect antidote to the cold.
Outside, the Market Square (Kauppatori) buzzed with people despite the temperature, seagulls hovering above the food stalls. Everything felt crisp and real, simple pleasures made special by the weather and the friendliness of the people running the stands.
From the harbour, we caught a ferry across the frozen water to Suomenlinna, a UNESCO World Heritage sea fortress spread across a handful of islands. The wind was brutal, but the views made up for it, icy waves, snow-covered cannons, and pastel houses with smoke curling from their chimneys. The kind of place that makes you understand why Finns love their saunas, you need something warm after that kind of cold.
Days That Moved Slowly
The rest of Helsinki moved at its own rhythm. We wandered through Senate Square, watched locals skate on frozen ponds, and ducked into cafés every hour just to warm up. Helsinki is full of them, cosy, minimalist spaces serving rich, dark coffee and pastries that look too good to eat.
There’s something comforting about how Finns treat coffee: not as a luxury, but as a daily ritual. You’ll see people sitting alone, quietly reading, content in the silence. It’s not awkward here, it’s peaceful.
Evenings & Nordic Calm
Evenings were calm, bars that felt like living rooms, friendly locals who didn’t try to sell you anything, just happy to chat. We tried a few Finnish beers, listened to some live acoustic music, and talked about how strange it was to be somewhere where nobody seemed in a hurry.
If you’ve ever been to a Nordic city in winter, you know the vibe, dark streets glowing softly under warm light, snow muffling every sound, people wrapped in scarves and kindness.
Final Thoughts
Helsinki might not have the wild nights or loud crowds of other European cities, but that’s what makes it special. It’s calm, grounded, and quietly confident, a city that doesn’t need to prove anything.
The markets, the sea, the ferries, the food, everything felt intentional, designed for people who value simplicity and warmth.
I left feeling lighter, more rested, and a little bit jealous of how peacefully the Finns seem to live. It’s not a city that overwhelms you, it just wraps you up, gives you good coffee, and lets you breathe for a while.
