Cherbourg - early March.

I’m penning down thoughts after a while. We're still stationed in Bretteville, close to Cherbourg. Spring has sprung in France, painting the plum trees on the cliffs of Cotentin with delicate white blooms. The chirping birds in our courtyard create a delightful morning melody - a scene we'll surely miss.

Lately, my writing drive has taken a dip, partly due to increased work commitments. Moreover, the transient nature of our lifestyle influences what feels worth investing in. When you're aware your stay is temporary, anticipation for the next phase inevitably creeps in, even if the present is enjoyable. It's a widespread issue; the tendency to think "when then" deeply impacts our outlook on life and our approach to challenges. If only embracing the present moment were simpler!

I've been taking fewer photographs lately, which is unfortunate. It just hasn't felt as fulfilling. In fact, this frustration has been so persistent that I've coined an abbreviation for it: MNKT - "Mitä Näilläkin Kuvilla Tekee" (What do I do with these pictures anyway) - to succinctly express my sentiments.

We've had eight incredible months in France, exploring and immersing ourselves in everything it has to offer. However, it's time for us to bid adieu to France temporarily; our next stop is Helsinki, Finland. Our return isn't driven by homesickness, but rather by Kimmo's impending completion of his Master of Military Science degree, which requires his presence for the final on-campus study period. I'll be joining the workforce for a few weeks at Dialab, fineart print studio where I previously worked before our nomadic lifestyle began. The prospect of heading to Finland is exhilarating, especially considering I haven't set foot there since last July.

We're leaving for Helsinki in two weeks. We've allocated four days for this 3000 km journey and will stop at some interesting places along the way. Picture this: a sunken army of tin soldiers in an abandoned amusement park or a life-sized decorative elephant standing sentinel on the fringes of a deserted mining area. And that's not all; there are also tank graveyards, abandoned mansions, churches, and houses waiting to be explored. I'm eagerly anticipating these adventures and the chance to capture them through my lens.

Our stay in Helsinki will span three months, until July. Afterward, we'll make our way back to France, allowing ourselves a whole month for the transition. With several alternative routes at our disposal and a database full of intriguing destinations, we're in the midst of planning what promises to be an incredibly exciting journey. Our ultimate destination? Southern France, where we'll bask in the early autumn ambiance. While the exact location is yet to be determined, we're actively scouring Airbnb listings in anticipation.

Helsinki - late March.

Back in Helsinki, where the clocks have sprung forward to summer time. The latter leg of our journey was aboard a car ferry. With each step on deck during the one and a half-day voyage, the chill grew sharper until Sunday morning greeted us at Vuosaari harbor, navigating through icy floes.

Overall, the journey went smoothly, save for one unfortunate mishap. The tin soldier army I mentioned earlier proved fatal for our drone - just as we lifted off, an irate goose swooped in like a bomber, sending our drone plummeting into the pond. Undeterred, the goose continued its flight, shooing away park storks and other avian inhabitants from their territory. We swiftly retrieved the drone from the water and began the drying process. Wrapped in lightweight fabric and submerged in rice, it underwent a four-day drying period. Yet, despite our efforts, the drone refuses to power on. It's currently undergoing a free air-drying process, and I'll attempt to clean it with compressed air tomorrow. Though I remain hopeful, it's prudent to brace for the possibility of purchasing a new drone. I've already filed a claim with the insurance company, although our comprehensive home insurance may not cover drone damage as extensively as we'd hoped. In the Netherlands, somewhat exaggeratedly, there's only this one abandoned place, and then in that sole place, not to diminish it at all, there's this one insane goose that with a single peck of its beak causes damage worth a few thousand euros - it's a bit too much as much as I love animals!

Helsinki appears much the same - a canvas of gray hues. Our apartment remains a beacon of consistency. Typically used for Airbnb rentals while we're away, it now serves as our temporary abode. There's a comforting familiarity about it; it's clean, aesthetically pleasing, and impeccably organized. What's more, it adheres to my preference for neutral colors - vibrant, cluttered, or harshly lit spaces tend to overwhelm me. Yet amidst the simplicity, the essentials are well in place; warmth and dryness prevail indoors, clothing is neatly arranged, and I can maintain my daily gym routine - not particularly thrilling, but a welcomed change of pace nonetheless.

Beware of the Bomber Goose!

My current location: UGINE, France