Backpacking through Europe in 1994

Day 71 • November 16, 1994
Last day in Helsinki, traveling Back to Turku with Siru

Day 71 was heavy.

I had been following the news of the MS Estonia ferry disaster since it happened back in late September. At the time, I was still in Denmark, and I remember sitting in a café reading the headlines and feeling a deep sense of shock. Over a thousand people had been on board when the ship went down in the Baltic Sea. It was one of the worst maritime disasters in European history in peacetime.

Now, here I was in Finland — just a few miles from where the Estonia had sunk. The reality of how close I was to the site of that tragedy hit me hard. I kept thinking about all the people who had been on that ship, and how quickly something so ordinary (a ferry ride between two countries) could turn into something so devastating.

It put things into perspective in a way that was difficult to shake. The trip had already been full of ups and downs, but this was different. This wasn’t about me or my journey anymore. It was a stark reminder of how fragile everything really is.

Turku, Finland, on the coast of the Baltic Sea. Exactly seven weeks earlier, less than 25 miles from this spot, just after midnight on September 28, the MS Estonia ferry sank in rough waters and 852 people perished.

My Photographs from today
in Helsinki and Turku, FInland

Saying Goodbye to Annele

This was taken at the train station in Helsinki as we were about to board the overnight train to Turku. Siru had invited me to stay with her, and Annele had come to see us off.

Saying Farewell to my Friend

Annele and I stood there hugging and smiling for one last photo before the trip. It was a nice, warm way to end my time in Helsinki before heading to Siru’s place.

Siru’s Back Yard in Turku

This was the view looking out from Siru’s house. The water led directly out to the open sea. It was incredibly peaceful, with tall birch and pine trees framing the view and their own small private boat dock right at the edge of the property. It felt like a perfect, quiet Finnish setting — very different from anything I was used to back home.

View from Siru’s Home

This was the peaceful view from Siru’s house in Turku. Just a few weeks earlier, the MS Estonia had sunk only about 25 miles away. Siru told me that rescue helicopters had flown directly over her home during the operation. The whole country was still in shock from the tragedy. Standing there looking out at the water, it was hard for me to believe something so devastating could have happened in a place that looked so calm and beautiful — especially with my own fear of open water.

Thoughts by the Water

Looking out over the calm sea from Siru’s home, I found myself thinking about how fragile life really is. Just weeks earlier, a normal ferry ride — something people here did without a second thought — had ended in tragedy.

Standing there, I felt a deep sense of guilt about my own suicide attempt. I had been so selfish with the gift of life, and it hit me hard that any one of us could be living our last day. It was a quiet but powerful moment that stayed with me.

Prayers by the Water

I sat there quietly with my thoughts, looking out over the calm water. I found myself praying — for the souls of those lost on the Estonia, for their families and loved ones still grieving, and for the strength to turn what could have been my last day into a lifetime of gratitude. It was a deeply personal moment that stayed with me long after I left that spot.

A Traditional Finnish Sauna

This was my first real Finnish sauna experience. Siru’s family had a amazing one right in their backyard. They invited me to do it the traditional way — completely nude — which definitely pushed me outside my comfort zone. After sitting in the intense 120-degree heat, I stepped back out into the cold November night air, and it felt incredible. The contrast was shocking in the best way, and I left feeling completely cleansed and energized.

DAY 71 / 11-16-94
Last day in Helsinki, traveling to back to Turku with Siru

I slept in until noon, then spent the next 2.5 hours packing, showering & writing. I left Annele’s apartment at 2:30 and met Siru downtown an hour later. We went to a café & had coffee & cinnamon rolls called Korvapuusti.

At 4:45 we walked to the train station, where Annele gave me a quick backrub. It was the hardest to so far to say bye to her, probably because I got to spend so little time with her – just 2 evenings. But I know we’ll meet again.

The train ride to Turku was uneventful save for the fact Siru was with me. It’s the first time I’ve had a traveling companion in, well, 71 days. A student from Brazil, Luiz, picked us up from the train station & took us home.

Siru’s family has a nice house right on the edge of the ocean. She said when the Estonia sank*, it was only about 40 kilometers [25 miles] south of her house and they could hear the rescue helicopters flying right overhead.

After eating and watching some pathetically terrible reject American TV show called “Dangerous Curves”, I got to experience a true SAUNA for the first time with Luiz and Siru. It was awesome, but hotter than an well-digger’s ass in July.

The temperature gauge said 80 degrees – Celsius. (Can’t do the math? It’s 176 degrees Fahrenheit). But it was extremely relaxing.

After Luiz & Siru went to bed, I stayed up & watched two movies on tape: “Dead Poet’s Society” and “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”. It made me anxious to get back to my movies! I finally went to bed at 5 am.

* Note from Todd in 2024:

Seeing the photos I took 30 years ago at the edge of the water where, less than 25 miles away, the Estonia tragedy took place, brings back all the feelings I felt that day. Exactly seven weeks earlier, just after midnight on September 28, the MS Estonia ferry sank in rough waters and 852 people perished.

However, just now, today, 30 years later, looking on the internet, I found several pictures of the Estonia and all the news stories about what happened that night.

Up until this moment I had never seen a photo of the MS Estonia before.

At this moment I am filled with overwhelming shock and grief and sadness and confusion and a feeling of “there but for the grace of God go I” when I see that the MS Estonia looks almost IDENTICAL to the Silja Scandinavia ship I was on 10 days earlier. This makes this tragedy even more real and terrifying to me today, even though it happened more than 30 years ago.

The MS Estonia in the Stockholm Archipelago on September 12, 1994, sixteen days before it sank. Photo by Par Henrik Sjostrom.

The bow of this style of ferry could raise so that cars could drive on. One of the theories I remember hearing is that this didn’t shut properly and although not a lot of water got in, enough did that in the heavy waves the water sloshed to one side and that weight led to the ship capsizing and sinking.

Dead Poets Society is a 1989 American coming-of-age drama film directed by Peter Weir and written by Tom Schulman. The film, starring Robin Williams, is set in 1959 at a fictional elite boarding school called Welton Academy, and tells the story of an English teacher who inspires his students through his teaching of poetry.

Looking Back

This was one of the heaviest days of the entire trip.

Being in Finland — so close to where the MS Estonia had sunk just seven weeks earlier — made the tragedy feel much more real. Over a thousand people had died in that disaster. I had followed the news from Denmark, but now, standing in the same country where so many lives had been lost, it hit differently. It was a stark reminder of how quickly life can change.

That night, Siru and I watched Dead Poets Society. I had seen the movie many times before — first in the theater as a senior in high school in 1989, and then over and over again with my Dome Brothers during college in our home theater in the basement. It had always been one of my favorite films. The themes of Carpe Diem, seizing the day, and truly living had played a big role in my decision to take this trip in the first place.

But watching it that night in Turku, just two weeks after my 23rd birthday and so soon after the Estonia disaster, the movie landed differently. The scene where one of the students takes his own life hit especially hard. It made me think about my own suicide attempt back in April, and how close I had come to ending everything. Sitting there in Siru’s living room, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude that I had survived. I was alive. I was in Europe. I was seizing the day and sucking the marrow out of life, just like the characters in the movie had talked about.

What makes this memory even more surreal is what happened twenty years later. In 2014, Robin Williams — the man who had delivered that powerful message about living fully — took his own life. The world was stunned. No one saw it coming. It was a painful reminder that even the people who inspire us the most can struggle in ways we’ll never fully understand.

That night in Finland, I didn’t know any of that was still ahead. I just knew I was grateful to be alive.

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