Helsinki in Details - Part 5

Welcome, reader, to another installment of the Helsinki in details series. This time, we are exploring postal area 00150 that encompasses the contrasting areas of industrial Hernesaari and the wealthy Eira. It is hard to say which one I prefer. In Hernesaari, I have to walk for long stretches of time without seeing anything but grey buildings and rocks, while in Eira I have to pay 4 euros for a soda after being exhausted by the Hernesaari loop.

Maybe Hernesaari. At least there I am not constantly tripping over small white dogs.

We start by the docks close to Hietalahdentori.

Those who traverse to the end of Hietalahdenlaituri might be able to spot a secret mural at the Hietalahti shipyard that is not accessible to the public. Looking close, it reveals impressions of the dock area, along with an enormous sea gull seemingly gobbling down something. The sea gull's confronting gaze suggests that it is the viewer themselves.

My guess is that it simply illustrates what walking along the Helsinki seashore with an ice cream cone is like.

My efforts in walking all the way to the end of Hernesaari are rewarded when I encounter the curious sight of two painted seals. I remember seeing these seal statues posted around Helsinki as a part of a treasure hunt. Are these the last two that remain? What happened to the rest?

At least they have each other. That is sweet.

Though, it is odd that there are only two of them. And that they are behind these bars, isolated from the rest of society. As if incarcerated for atrocities on a mass scale. The implications are troubling

Marching away from the end of Hernesaari in a brisk space, you'll encounter a long wall of art that encompasses most of the Hernesaarenranta. It depicts a variety of people from all walks of life - even the ones that don't deserve life, such as the person in the left, using their phone while walking, slowly, not letting you pass, and then glaring at you when push past anyway, no matter how polite your "excuse me" is, making you want to snatch their phone and snap it in half, but you resist the temptation, not because it would get you in trouble, but because of the enlightened awareness that you will encounter rude and inconsiderate people daily, and finding gratification in not letting them push you into vice despite the whole ruthless world doing nothing but promoting vice, seeking inner virtue instead...

I better look away from this typing soon. I can just sense a small white dog near my feet again.

Further along the same street, you will find Löyly - the hub for tourists and those who don't own a sauna but have a ton of extra cash to burn (do those exist in Finland?)

You can climb on top of the building and admire the view. Free of charge. Though it could be because I am wearing Marimekko no one barred me entry. Always wear Marimekko if you don't want to deal with people trying to sell you the nearest bridge. You don't want that.

What you want is a premium bridge, not those shabby Kaivopuisto ones. Contact me for details.

Oh, and on top you can also see a chimney spewing white smoke much like when a pope is elected in the Vatican. This means that the sauna conclave downstairs has elected a leader. They are the one who gets to throw water on the stove and promptly earn their post by presenting the others an accurate impression of hellfire.

Many are distracted by the dazzling overall impression of Huvilakatu, but those with keen eyes may notice the repeating owl motifs. They go well with the ominous hooting around me as I walk along these rainy streets. It's nice being so connected to nature even in the middle of Helsinki. That's at least what I tell myself to ward off thoughts on why the historic residents of Huvilakatu felt the need to honor owls much like the ancient people of the bible smearing sacred blood over their dwellings before one of the ten plagues of Egypt.

On either side of a door in the corner of Huvilakatu and Pietarinkatu there are two reliefs of two resting dogs. The other is sleeping with one eye open. Probably because of the owls.

If you power-walk to the end of Huvilakatu and duck to Huvilakuja, you may find sanctuary in a charming imitation of the moomin house in the backyard of Eira hospital. Unfortunately, the house is not as vibrant as the original one from Tove Jansson's imagination for we are in Eira - the mecca of Finnish interior design. It is therefore beige.

The impressive looking house on the edge of Kaivopuisto, on Merikatu, is Villa Ensi. It used to be a women's hospital, and the statues posted around its entrance reflect that. First, there is one depicting an amorous encounter between a man and a woman. Swoon.

Then we have a woman and a baby, but the man is nowhere to be seen.

Next to the door we have the woman and her child, but look. Another baby. She clearly has her hands full with them, considering that the other one has resorted to floating around like the cosmic space baby in a Kubrick film. Where is the father to help with all this?!

If we round the corner, we get some answers. There is a sullen-looking man with his nose (amongst other parts) lopped off. There's definitely a story here.

This sculpture was crafted by Viktor Jansson, the father of the moomin-famous Tove Jansson. You can see his work scattered all along Helsinki, such as the sculpture of the boy and the mermaid in the Esplanadi park covered in an earlier installment.

The way the street numbers are denoted in this part of Helsinki, such as this example at the end of Engelinaukio, makes me think of medieval manuscripts and the sumptuous way the scribes introduce a new chapter. It also makes me think of doctors' handwriting in prescriptions. May this article be foreshadowing if I ever overdose on reflux pills.

The sloping Juhani Ahon tie reveals a gate decorated with two ice skates. Someone who really loved ice hockey must have lived here. That'd be most Finns. Not me, though. When it comes to winter sports, I prefer snowman building. It's the only one where I didn't have to wear a helmet.

We end our journey at the old dwelling of my favorite Finnish philosopher. It is a good place to stop and ponder - on life, death, the universe. And how Mr. Wright was ever able to afford a large, ornate house in Eira just by philosophizing.

Maybe that'll be me living there someday. Not because I will be able to buy it, no one is hiring me even as a window cleaner in this current economy. No, I will climb over the fence and squat there as any true groupie would.

I will see you in the next installment, dear reader, if they haven't arrested me for loving philosophy too much instead of our national sport. You stay safe and watch hockey. Heated Rivalry will probably suffice.