Beautiful sunrise

Okay I didn't see all of the sunrise. I was coma-like most of the night, until Christian texted at 1am. Are you feeling guilty reading this Christian? The phone, which has been coming to bed with me as I can't find my mag light, had by this stage reached it's way right under my head so the soft Nokia beep beep was horrid. About as bad as when the alarm went off at six and I didn't know where I was or what I was doing but caught soft gorgeous Finnish light creeping across the Maunula pines.

The Angels were all on line for a brief moment and Nina provided what is likely to be an ongoing soundtrack for the day.

Sami arrived just as I was getting dressed (we did text first to confirm this) and made some remark about where all my luggage was; which Steve also repeated... Do guys travel with more nowadays? The bag by the way is 16.3 kgs which is 6.3 over how I want it to be at the beginning of the trip. Of course I don't need to travel with 2 pairs of high heels, a slinky black dress, a hot pink number that I fall out off and enough underwear to dress a mardi gras float... but I am short of cash and a girl has to be careful to attract free dinner invitations if she wants to survive.

The farewell was surprisingly restrained. Nina got me more choked than expected. I think Kati and I had endured enough poignant farewells in the past few days. The girls bounced on the pier until the boat faded from view and I realised I was waving at freight containers the same colour as their clothes. I love that Nina got lost on the way to the ferry terminal; there's something admirable in someone so tenacious also being ditzy. I tried to seduce the men smoking on the boat with my newfound wiggle but I wasn't as enticing as Malboro. Understandable.

The Irishman called and talked me into deep waters. Is that symbolic?!. Funny how time apart can give you a fresh take on things.

The boat played INXS's Never Tear Us Apart when I re-entered; don't you love how life often has a soundtrack? Even if it is sung by a man who died with his pants around his neck...

The girls thoughtlessly went to Fazer cafe for buffet. Okay it was my suggestion but I didn't need blow by blow details of the food they were devouring whilst I counted my 5 cent coins and came out 7 short of a hot dog. Plastic sandwich-satisfied, I did what any young woman wanting to appear stylish would do; laid out on several chairs and dribbled and snored myself to sleep, waking up with the imprint of my watch on my forehead and my hair plastered to my nose...

So now I am in Tallinn airport, using the cleaners' vacuum electricity port and enjoying the luxury of 10EEK 24 hour wireless access (Helsinki - get your act together!). I now have a personal driver (so essential for a jet setter dahlings) who charges real rates and not Russian / Moldovan / Ossetian inflated mafia tax included rates.

Next stop... London. I promise I might get more interesting but for now I am sad and lonely and feel it's only right you know what I eat for breakfast. And lunch. Maybe dinner.