Hyvästi Porvoo — morjens Kalkutta!

After five restless years in Porvoo, the narrator finally decides to leave, spurred by a late‑night phone call that feels like a lifeline. He visits the local police chief, who, despite a bad foot, hands him a freshly issued passport and wishes him a good journey. The process of acquiring the document is portrayed as a relic of a stricter past, contrasting sharply with the swift, almost bureaucratic efficiency of the modern passport office.

Armed with his new papers, he sets his sights on Paris, where the bustling stock exchange draws him in on his first morning. The clamor of traders and the flash of numbers become a vivid backdrop to his observations, yet an unexpected encounter with a police officer reminds him that even abroad, foreign visitors face strict rules. The narrative captures the mix of anticipation, small obstacles, and the quiet wonder of stepping into a new world.