Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat: for those who have yachts to spare, or those who wish to take a lovely harborside stroll. The trick is to find parking, and most likely you won’t, so consider taking a bus here. While Nice and Monaco and the rest of the Riviera is becoming almost too developed, Cap Ferrat is still lush, with extravagant mansions hiding from view under much greenery and at cul-de-sacs. Because here one can pretend to be just anybody, many royalties and aristocracy have preferred this place. But who was (saint) Jean?
(Cap Ferrat, France; April 2018)
Villefranche-sur-Mer
No need for a gym pass for those who live in Villefranche-sur-Mer. Their gym has either a sea view or a view of sunlight old houses nestled close to each other. Those who work at the city hall have the pleasure of a light cardio exercise as they walk through the citadel and enter the sunny courtyards on top of the hill. 
Villefranche-sur-Mer’s little alleyways have always been so narrow. The town just grew organically around the little fishing harbor. Rumor is Jean Cocteau used the back streets for a haunting scene in a film. What is known for sure is that he loved the place so much he painted the insides of the fishermen’s chapel in a lovely Picassoesque style. 
Many other movies have been partially filmed here: a James Bond, a Hitchcock movie, and others. Somerset Maugham had an apartment here as he much preferred the quiet waterfront to the busy Nice boardwalk.
I can quite understand why. If I were to concentrate on writing a book, this is the atmosphere I’d prefer, too.
(Villefranche-sur-Mer, France; April 2018)
Tea by the quay
Faint smell of fish nets
Instead of emails and calls
I will have some tea
Work? Who needs it on a Thursday when one can have tea on the French Riviera?
(Villefranche-sur-Mer, France; April 2018)
Bird’s eye view
Lovely ones, apologies for the radio silence. Wow, nearly three months have gone by: an entire summer. And what a summer. One where it has been an everyday challenge to climb high enough to see the bird’s eye view. Instead I have spent most of the time either buried in the trenches or with my head spinning. It is an act of mindfulness to gently pull on that string that we all have attached on top of our heads. You know the one that, if we just keep pulling, lifts us up higher and higher, so that when we are alongside the clouds we actually see the big picture of our lives.
I am writing this from Singapore, where I arrived just a few hours ago. It is late and I have slept about 9 hours in total during the past two nights. The apartment in Helsinki is now emptied, boxed up, and wrapped in plastic. Tomorrow hell breaks loose and the replumbing team begins to tear up the bathroom and the pipes in the entire building. And I grabbed my backpack and shut the door behind me. For a long while. Quite probably for good.
There are so many cliché ways one could describe starting a new chapter. I will not attempt any of them. Instead I will focus on sleep – and starting tomorrow, on noodle soup. I am hoping that this combination will slowly pull me up so I can see the big picture again.
(Singapore; July 2018)
My Stockholm crib
My favorite crib in Stockholm is Stallmästaregården, an old gasthaus with creaky old wooden floors, the feeling of staying at someone’s private mansion (not a hotel), and the loveliest staff there ever was. I used to stay here every week, and returning after a year felt like taking a warm bath (the food in the excellent -reviewed restaurant helps, too).
(Stockholm, Sweden; April 2018)
In Lund, one morning
Lund, one of those lovely university towns that faintly smell of cow barn in the morning.
(Lund, Sweden; April 2018)
Thought of the day
”Instead of focusing on developing beauty, society focuses on chaos because it is more profitable” said Irene Kostas at Helsinki PechaKucha Night.
Nothing more to add to that today.
(Helsinki, Finland; April 2018)
Grayness at Heathrow
Another gray day, this time at London Heathrow terminal five. Summer sun, when will you arrive?
(London, United Kingdom; April 2018)
Easter lilies
In my mind, daffodils are flowers of old houses inhabited by sweet old ladies. In Finland they are mostly bright yellow wild daffodils. But oh, those special moments, when walking past a garden I would spot the smaller, white poet’s daffodil, with a little red crown. I could look at the intricate and symmetric architecture of a poet’s daffodil for a very long time.
In the winter garden in Helsinki, Easter was celebrated with daffodils. Perhaps partly because daffodils are also called Easter lilies in Finnish and Swedish? And what is more joyful than a sea of yellow and orange after a long, cold, dark winter?
(Winter gardens, Helsinki, Finland; April 2018)
On the top of London
On my first ever visit to London, in 2000, the London Eye was brand spanking new. The lines for a spin were days if not weeks long, even if each pod takes 25 people, allowing for plenty of space to move around. Originally I remember it was called the Millennium Wheel, and the rumor was that it was going to be dismantled after a while. 
I am glad that the London Eye is still up, 19 years later. I suppose Brits had to have an iconic, modern landmark, as the French have the Eiffel Tower.
And 18 years after my first visit to London, I finally got to ride the thing. I excused myself from work early, took the tube down, navigated through the throngs of visitors and found myself in a nearly empty VIP lounge with a glass of champagne and the sun pouring in through the windows. Because if you wait for something for nearly two decades, you must go through it with style.
And rain or shine, London from the top is quite a sight.
(London, United Kingdom; March 2018)
This blue marble 