Four years ago my mum and I went to visit my sister in Zürich, Switzerland. She was doing an internship there and we had decided to take the night train from the Netherlands to Zürich, which would drop us off right in the middle of the city after about ten hours. I spent the visit mostly trotting after the other two and trying to figure out how my new camera worked.
Given that there’s only one month the Fins can properly call ‘summer’, it might be a bit of a stretch to call Suomenlinna, a former military bastion just off the coast of Helsinki, a little holiday paradise. Yet there was still plenty to see when I visited there in April earlier this year, though it was clear that its inhabitants, museums and shops were awaiting the warmer weather and the influx of tourists which then still seemed a long way off.
Some months ago, I was asked to contribute an article to TXT Magazine, an academic publication from the University of Leiden’s Book and Digital Media Studies department, which generally focuses on the creation, dissemination and adaptation of books and texts as objects. The theme of this issue was ‘navigating seas of text’. I knew I wanted to write about something World War II-related – naturally – and dove into my reading, finally settling on writing about the role of three American librarians during the war. I relished the opportunity to do research on and write about some cool ladies and about the importance of books during the conflict, and it’s very exciting to see it in print at last! I have scanned it in and it’s available to read under the cut.
As the temperatures are finally consistently running into the high twenties Celsius here, it’s funny to think that only about two months ago I was walking around in Riga in a snowstorm – granted, one that only lasted a day. We went out then, on Easter Sunday, thinking we might do some sightseeing, but ended up frantically hunting around for a coffee place to take shelter in. And as we sat sipping a cappuccino and nibbling on a poppy-seed doughnut at the foot of an imposing Russian orthodox church – the only proper ‘high rise’ in the centre of Riga, really – the sun came out and the snow stopped. Instantly the streets were filled with people, where only an hour before only a few arctic explorers like ourselves could be seen plodding along. Happily, the following days were filled with sunshine, and on the day we left, I carried my coat draped over my arm – it was that warm.
A while ago I had to write a one-page short story for my Modern English Lit class. It had to be “life writing”, so based on a real-life experience, preferably my own. In class we had to form groups and peer review each other’s stories, and select the best one. All nominated stories would be eligible for publication in a magazine called Anglophile. I’m proud to say that despite a lack of enthusiasm from my peers in class, my professor selected my story, along with five others, to be read by Anglophile! I’ve had no word on publication yet, but I wanted to share it here, as I’m a bit proud of it. I wrote one page on an experience I had while travelling in Cambodia three years ago.