On Boxing Day Henrik’s parents took us on a Viking Line cruise from Stockholm to Helsinki, the capital of Finland. I had never been to Finland before, and was so excited and appreciative when I heard that they had booked boat tickets for the whole family – including me. Usually these crossover boats (such as the Oslo-Copenhagen line) merely consist of young passengers in their early 20s only in it for the cheap tax-free beer and the vomit that comes along with it, and being a very moderate drinker, I feel severely out of place in such situations. I was hence pleasantly surprised when I discovered that the passenger community consisted of people of all ages, nationalities and sub-cultures who were actually interested in being sober enough to get off the boat to enjoy a day in Helsinki, rather than just the insides of a toilet bowl.
My favourite part of being on the boat was the live-band and dancing in the evenings. Sadly, my boyfriend and I are not compatible when it comes to our notions of what is enjoyable. Jealously I watched all the couples on the dancefloor, asking Henrik over and over again to stand up with me. He hates dancing and blatanly refused, and so I ended up sitting on the sofa pathetically devouring lots of banana daiquiris and strawberry margaritas to quench my sorrows, while listening to the incoherent talk of my increasingly tipsy boyfriend. In the end I ditched the poor guy and went up to the dancefloor with his parents instead.