These trials of Cat, Dog and Mine.

I've now been in Finland for almost nine weeks. Though I'm still looking for work the immigration processes seem to be going quite well. Last week I got the thumbs up from the police so now I'm just waiting for the Registry Office to accept me as a permanent resident.

Welcome to Finland. I am your guide

Cat and Dog are also settling in well. Cat has discovered shrews and has been eager to present his new friends to me. Girlf. is not nearly as happy as Cat as he drops another (usually) dead gift at our feet. He looks so sweet, like a kid that's just made a rubbish breakfast for mother's day. Being a nature loving vegetarian I of course have to put aside any feelings of parental pride and get back to feeling guilty for having brought this little ecological disaster into Finland. We seem to have found a solution now though, I've pimped my cat with little bells and he's only allowed out during the day; so far, zero-kills.

Dog is more interested in the dozens of dopey rabbits all over the island although the only thing she's managed to catch are the ticks from the long grass where the disappearing rabbits hide. Is it possible that the rabbits and ticks are working together? Anyway, her jollies have meant more father-dog grooming time hauling the ticks off with my special tick lasso.

So there you are. In case you were wondering, having pets is mostly disgusting.

My own trials come in the form of mind-boggling Finnish lessons. I'm just about to finish (this is getting confusing) the level 1 course so I thought I'm just about ready to give some feedback.

Finnish is a bit of an oddity language wise. Most European languages have the same root, and therefore have a lot of similarities, but Finnish, Estonian and Hungarian and a bunch of minority languages spoken only in rural Russia have taken a separate path. This lovely picture demonstrates these connections.

The main complications seem to be twofold. Firstly, word endings. A basic word like house can have several forms depending on if you want to say more than one house, or to the house, or at the house or from the house. If you want to say the house has two bedrooms then that's yet another form. All these tricks, and the inevitable exceptions, have to be wrestled whilst trying to pronounce the crazy vowels. No doubt this diagram will help.

But perhaps the most difficult is the vocabulary. Because of Britain's long history of immigration our vocabulary isn't a million miles from that of the Spanish or French or German. The inconsiderate Finnish forefathers however didn't bother to visit back when it was all the rage and now, 1000 years later, I find myself with endless lists of completely alien vocabulary to memorise. The problem is that you can't just hit and hope like you can with Spanish; you either know the word or you don't and that means learning them. All of them. 

Some friends have a one-and-a-half year old child and my goal is to be able to always speak better Finnish than him. If that's still the case in two years time I think I'll have done well. 

Autumn month

Syyskuu, September, translates literally as Autumn moon. The Finnish months are great. January is Oak Moon, May is Planting Time Moon and October is Mud Moon.

Anyway. Autumn Moon has arrived and with it the rain, longer nights and today I could even see my breath in the air. Goodbye summer. I heard an expression the other day, In Finland the summer may be short but at least it doesn't rain so much.

To welcome the changing of the guard we went for a smoke sauna on Sunday. This alliterative delight sounds a bit Bob Marley but it's not. The idea is that before the sauna is prepared you light a big smoky fire in the hut and impregnate the walls with...smoke. Then you clean out the embers and prepare your normal sauna, lots of hot rocks* etc. Apparently its not carcinogenic; The only health warning I saw was a sign telling you not to jump off the jetty into the lake between sauna sessions (we did anyway - rebellious high five!). Anyway, it was lovely. In winter the lake freezes over and you can go to avanto where the swim is now via a hole in the ice. If you're in the area, here's the link. Also, go soon because smoke saunas are also known for burning down. Who'd have thought.

Jetty for jumping

As we were leaving the sauna a Lara Croft style security guard came and asked us if we'd seen the Russians. It seems they'd snuck in without paying (sauna addiction is a serious matter). We had seen them but they'd long scarpered (back in the USSR) and were now spending the roubles they'd saved on hooky vodka.

I think more surprising was not that people would take advantage but that advantage taking isn't more common. Finland seems to work almost entirely on a trust system. None of the houses where I live have fences around the gardens (as Dog and Cat have discovered to their gamboling delight), you don't see security guards in shops, bicycles are often left unlocked and I haven't heard a car alarm since I arrived. Yesterday they needed to fit a ventilation fan in my apartment and the builders just let themselves in with a key they got from God knows who.

It's a brave new world people. Perhaps there's hope for us all yet.

That'll do for now. Next time I'll tell you about Cat and Dog's latest adventures.

*I said not like Bob Marley.

It's been a month here now and things are settling down. I'm legal. I have a job. I pay taxes. This immigrant can begin to strut a little.

Tampere

I'm even beginning to get the hang of Helsinki; link places together, get around without a map and say please and thankyou (it's the same word-yes!). So on the weekend, ready to broaden my horizons (and visit the mother-in-law), I got the bus with Dog and Girlf. up to Tampere (above). One definite plus of Finland is that dogs are allowed on public transport here, you don't even have to pretend to be blind.

Dog claiming her right to ride the bus. 

Tampere is also known as the Manchester of Finland. It's the old industrial centre with big warehouses and giant chimneys. It's sat in-between two big lakes which you can swim in in summer and skate on in winter. Definitely worth a visit. A good friend of mine was playing an excellent selection of punk records at the Soho Bar and I got the chance to talk with some of the locals. I insist that talking to people in pubs is by far the best way to learn about a country and sure enough, within just a couple of pints, I had learned that bears don't attack women because they are scared of their pussies. University of life.

Summer has also begun to leave us. In Helsinki the change of the seasons is pretty drastic. I found this cool graph (I'm mostly nerd) which shows the crazy seasonal change in comparison to Madrid, Spain. Don't be too confused; Basically the light blue line shows the number of daylight hours throughout the year for Madrid. The Dark blue line the same for Helsinki.

Obviously to get from 19 hours of daylight to just 6 is going to take some pretty drastic change and that's what's happening now. Winter is coming a bit like The Day After Tomorrow.

Ridiculous movie

OK. Well not quite, but the leaves are turning yellow.

On the plus side this means that the mushroom season is go. Watch out Ray Mears,

God

Legalize it.

It turns out that arriving to and entering Finland was easy. Unfortunately, long gone the days of Victoria, my British Passport mighty as it has been doesn't allow me just to waltz into town and work/sign on/get sick as and when I want.

So, I've had to wander through the bureaucratic hoops to get into the system. Here's how to do it.

• ADVICE: First the City Hall on Esplanadi has an advice service (and free wifi and amazing toilets, also free). Make an appointment (they seem keen on appointments here) and Hamed will talk you through your options which basically boil down to, get someone to offer you a job.
• TAX: Once you have a job and more importantly a contract, and it doesn't seem to have to be a particularly concrete one, go and see Vero, the tax office. I love tax offices. Perhaps unsurprisingly they're always the most efficient and coherent government institution and Vero is no exception. The only problem is when the one employee attending the immigrants disappears off for lunch for an hour and you just have to wait for her to come back. Tip, get there early. However, once she sees your contract she'll give you an ID number (Henkilötunnus) and you're in. You can now pay taxes - Huzzah!
• FIVE-O: Then go to International Police where a big viking man will send you to the lovely lady who will explain in perfect English that you don't really need to sign in and you're free to work here as long as you leave the country every three months. 
• BANK: Another appointment will get you a meeting with a bank person. Mine's called Matilda. As long as you have the Henkilötunnus (above), a contract and you haven't previously stiffed any Finnish banks then they'll give you an account and you get to choose from a selection of 12 designs for your debit card. I went for cassette. Retro. 
• DOLE: I also registered at the cleanest job centre I've ever seen in my life but I'm yet to hear back from them.

English Job Centre

And that's it. You're good to go. Everyone was lovely, they all spoke good English and knew their job.

Not sure what'll happen if the idiots back home decide to take Britain out of the EU but I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

For now, all being well, I'll be working by the end of the month. Hello Finland.

Suomi

We made it.. After crossing almost all of the latitudes and six longitudes I stumbled into an almost deserted Helsinki airport, picked up my bags and found my shaken but very alive pets and walked into Finland. After all the worry and stress of the preparations it was all amazingly easy. A bit of an anti-climax really.

On the morning of the 23rd I drove to the airport with Santiago's finest Taxi-Service (not a corrupt policeman), checked in, watched Dog and Cat get wheeled away, got on plane, drank a few red wines, fell asleep, woke up and watched The Big Lebowski, changed plane, walked around Schipol airport for about an hour (it's huge), got on another plane, got off, no passport control, no pet check, welcome to Helsinki.

Now we just have to figure out how to live here. Can't wait.

THREE WEEKS to go - Goodbyes

All being well, three weeks from now I'll be sitting in a cramped seat high above the Atlantic trying to get drunk enough to stop worrying about the pets freaking out in the hold below. Three weeks to go!

Already the lasts have begun. I had my last class at a business to the north of the city and cycled home for the last time via the old road with it's magnificent views of Santiago to the west and The Andes to the east. I marked exams for the last time today and used the bathroom on the 3rd floor with the paper towel dispenser that doesn't work for the last time. I paid the bills for the last time and sent out invoices for the last time. What was so long quotidian has just become nostalgic.

And with the lasts come the goodbye parties. On Sunday I had my first with one of the families that has adopted me here in Chile. My mum died when I was 16 and ever since I seem to have carried around a lost puppy vibe which makes people want to look after me. Here in Chile I have two families that have treated me like a son so it was a bit emotional saying goodbye to them. But, with a cocimiento* and my special Irish Whiskeys (the secret is extra whiskey) we made the best of it.

Next I have my goodbye DJ set at my local pub and then the 'danceable' goodbye party with my friends (I'm trying to think how to anglicise it. I wonder if Aga-doo would go down well). Then I'll have my goodbye picnic in the Andes. That will almost certainly be emotional.

A few people are trying to string out the goodbyes for as long as possible by accompanying me to the airport. I'm not having it. Getting to the airport is stressful enough. I don't need to be worrying about the logistics of 30 or so wallies half of whom are still on their way and half of whom need the toilet. Nope. The final few days will be just for me to say goodbye the way I want to. Snif.

*Cocimiento is a traditional dish from the south of Chile. Get a huge pot, fry up chicken, pork, sausage and some veg, fill it full of white wine, bung in a few kilos of shell fish, eat, sleep.

Oh Arturo!

We're all a bit confused at the moment.

Chile's star player Rey Arturo Vidal (King Arthur) went to a casino, had a few drinks, crashed his Ferrari into another car and then with all the air of the Lord of the manor threatened a policeman who refused to let him off.

It seems that most people are dealing with this in the way that we deal with most issues that, though wrong, would be inconvenient for us to take a stand against. Better to say no more about it and carry on as we were. Principals are often the loser when they have to fight with personal interests.

Apart from the media, perhaps the most obviously guilty of such behviour is Chile's head coach Jorge Sampaoli. The tiny man has taken a big brush and swept everything under a now very lumpy carpet. It's hard to imagine his predecessor Marcelo Bielsa, a man he is often compared favourably to, doing the same. Bielsa is all about principles, so much so that he once refused to speak to President Piñera at an official reception for the team.

So on Friday we settled down to watch Chile, with Vidal, play Bolivia and it all seemed a bit different to me. Then Chile won 5-0 and everyone drove around the streets celebrating until the early hours beeping horns and dancing on statues.

Maybe it's just me that's a bit confused.

Happy Father's day.