Going Home
If I seem a little glum at times today, please know that I am not frowning over this convention.
Tampere 2024 has been an event to hold close to the heart and pull out on those days in the future when I need a little extra push to get on.
I see the organisers and they are not drudging through the event while everyone else enjoys; they are upbeat and smiling, radiating cheer and confidence. So often the organising team must feel they are slaves and why on earth did they take on such a task?
Not this time. I know there will be other threads, other voices but let me say personally that this convention has been run well, efficiently, delightfully and elegantly. I have loved every moment.
Like Finland itself, a land that ranks high on my list of places that I love. I saw a notice in Helsinki’s main library — a place of uplifting beauty — that told everyone this building was theirs and if they just wanted to hang out and not open a book, that was fine.
So, thank you, organisers. You have done a splendid job. You have put our happiness and comfort foremost and that caring thought is a beam of sunlight.
As are the attendees. Many of you I have known for twenty years and more. And others who are new and fresh to my old eyes. People of the bookshelf. People who are well-read, clever, funny, and above all, generous.
Thank you, BookCrossers and BookCrossing.com — it is amazing that these events have always been arranged and organised and run by ordinary BookCrossers in a spirit rising from the members and not through some corporate dogma — as if I could accuse the people who have been so very generous with their own time and resources in keeping BookCrossing.com running of being faceless corporate moguls.
If I seem sad today, it is not because I am tired and full of pain from slipping on ice or the inevitable little gifts that age brings to the body.
It is because soon I will say goodbye to all these people who have pieces of my heart and I will be in the hands of people who do not — yet — as they guide me through the warm and caring environment of security checks and queues and alloy smiles that is travel nowadays.
How can I not feel down at leaving my tribe?
I will be back, one day, but I think of BookCrossers I have known and loved — Ghanescha and Whyteraven and Miketroll and many others — who are held in our hearts and not our arms and I know that each parting brings a little pang that in these uncertain days I may not look into these smiling eyes again.
I know I should live for the present — make each day into a birthday — and not cling so hard to the past and the passing, nor fear for the future but I look out through eyes that are merely human.
So, if I seem a little down, it is all my own doing. Your smiles, your greetings, your generous books, everything lifts me up so high that there is no help but to feel it as I walk alone down the hill to the check-in counter.
BookCrossers, you have my heart.
And my books.
I write from the heart sometimes, and this is how I made Megan cry. Her heart beats harder than mine, you see.
Sunday was the final day of the convention. People from around the world find that they are pulling out plane or train tickets, packing their cases, checking out of their accommodation and their thoughts inevitably turn toward onward travels and a return to everyday life.
As it was for me. I needed to be back home on Tuesday to help look after the grandchildren and so instead of having the Sunday night to wind down, attend the inevitable late-stayers meal, and make a more leisurely insertion into the world of international travel on Monday, I chose to pack up my own clutter on Sunday morning, drag my bags along to the convention venue to stash them until my own departure later that afternoon and feel emotional about leaving the company of my friends.
Often the late-stayers invite any members of the committee still in one piece to a thank-you dinner where they don’t have to do any organising or reach into their own pockets. Maybe that happened this time but I was already gone.
The enhanced selection in the AirBnB
I browsed through the books on the “Book Buffet” that is an inescapable part of any BookCrossing gathering and selected a few to take back to the AirBnB’s bookshelf.
I let myself into the apartment one last time, deposited the books on the shelf, wished them luck, left the key on the hook and fondly remembered an enjoyable stay in a comfortable flat.
This apartment was conveniently located close to everything I needed. Shops, convention venue, great restaurants, scenic walks. It was scrupulously clean and tidy and neat. Milk and tea/coffee provided — a real lifesaver. Warm, bright, comfortable.
Tero was excellent with communications and went to special efforts to accommodate my needs.
Loved my stay in Tampere. Heartily recommend Tero, Tampere, and this accommodation. Thank you so much for making this lovely home from home available.
Those books can be tracked, for those interested in this BookCrossing thing, which I must say goes admirably well with international travel and stays in random houses, hotels, and hostels.
Bury Your Dead
Family Baggage
The Descent of Man
Pride and Prejudice
I also left my host a packet of Tim Tams.
Release walk
A tradition at BookCrossing convention is to gather all the books left on the “Table of Temptation” and head off for a brief walking tour of the town, distributing books — usually wrapped up in ziploc “release bags” — on park benches, in the hands of statues, given to interested passers-by etc.
BookCrossers uncharacteristically passing a brewery restaurant
Other books with my stamp inside:
An Heir Fit for a King — Melbourne to Canberra to Finland to Belgium
Going Postal — Melbourne to New Zealand to Canberra to Finland to Germany
The Star’s Tennis Balls — Brisbane to Sydney to Canberra to Finland to Germany, a twenty-year journey!
Lolita — Ohio to England to Scotland to Canberra to Tampere to Switzerland
Bluish — Florida to Scotland to Tampere to Latvia
Dead Man’s Chest: A Phryne Fisher Mystery — Oxford to Germany to Tampere
The Language of Flowers — Canberra to Finland to Estonia
The Last Overland — France to Finland to London
Yes, there’s a book in a bag on the back of that sheep
Saying goodbye
I handed over a pack of Tim Tams and the few last skerricks of my Illy coffee to the head organiser. She and her team had been remarkably generous with their time, their food, and their books. It had been a great convention.
The thing wound down. Some didn’t return from the release walk, some had already gone, and through the afternoon attendees gradually left the building until there were just a few of us left and then I put on my jacket and gloves, hefted my bags, gave a few last hugs, and was gone.
I walked down Tampere’s main street, passing by any number of books on window ledges, sidewalk tables, street installations and so on, to the railway station, taking it slow as my bag had lost its soft rubber coating on both wheels now and was roaring along like a lion.
I had an hour until my 1700 train, and what better place to spend it than the station cafe, where Gizmopuddy from Ireland and Olagorie from Germany were contemplating the departures board for their train to Helsinki.
We only had a few minutes together before they left. We embraced, looked forward to the next time, and I was left alone in the travel jungle.
Onwards!
I had a window seat, and I looked out at Finland passing by from time to time but I had pulled out my laptop, set it on the tray table, plugged it into the onboard power outlet and was busy writing up notes and processing images.
Screenshots for Vinnish Railways
Not all the way into Helsinki this time. I had to change at a suburban station, standing around on a chilly platform with a whole bunch of strangers also headed to the airport.
Back up through that huge void — this time in the lift — find a gents where I could change into my travel clobber and organise my carry-on bag, and head for the Business section of Finnair check-in.
My big bag was under 20 kilos this time. I hadn’t had to fight to close the zip and I could have added a few books from the table. Oh well. Coming home with fewer books than I brought is always a win.
One last thing before I headed for the lounge. There was a book swap shelf at the far end of the Schengen zone. I had about five hours before my plane departed after midnight, so plenty of time to hustle down and have a look. Only a couple of BookCrossing books on the shelf — later travellers would add a few more — but I made a journal entry in each.
En häst för Monika
Kuifje in Congo
And with that, I turned, traversed the length of the terminal, and found the Finnair flagship lounge. Or at least the part available to oneWorld Sapphire passengers. The premium lounge has a sauna.
