Matkani ulkomaille

After years of longing, the narrator finally gathers enough savings to leave Helsinki for the fabled lands south of the Baltic. He quits his temporary post, pockets eight red hundred‑mark notes, and boards a third‑class carriage bound for St. Petersburg via the rail line that zigzags around the frozen sea. The journey quickly becomes a study in contrast: the iron‑clad train barrels through snow‑driven darkness, the scent of cheap beer mingles with stale provisions, and brief stops in Viipuri offer fleeting comforts before the endless night ahead.

In the cramped car, a fellow Finnish traveler shares hard‑won knowledge of the Russian capital, warning of impatient conductors and the nightly scramble for a warm berth. At the border the spoken language shifts from Finnish and Swedish to Russian, and the simple meals of home give way to vodka and tea. By the time the train pulls into the grand station, the narrator is both exhausted and exhilarated, confronting a bustling metropolis that promises the cultural riches he has read about in Schiller and Goethe.