We are back in Tampere. Is this my alma mater? Where I got my PhD. Or does the alma mater remains the university where one get his or her first degree? (in my case Parma). Do not know and in truth do not care much. It is just nice to be back here.
It is 21:56. Outside is almost dark. A wind coming from the west makes the scattered clouds fly fast over the town. A bright full moon appears and disappears behind the moving clouds. We can watch this from the corner room at the seventh floor of the Grand Hotel Tammer.Below us the canal and dam that controls the water flow between the two huge lakes which are at different levels and define the shape of two sides of the town. This difference in the height above the sea level of these tow lake has made the fortune of the town and as often in these cases a Scots was first to spot the opportunity. Finlayson built on the little straits that separates these two lakes a factory and became known for the quality of its cotton fabric. This may have happened 100 years ago and the fabric is still sold today. Today as yesterday the water flow provides power.
Olga and Venla are enjoying the town. The Pikku Kakkonen play ground right in front of the hotel of course help and they have spent at least three hours today on the red wooden train, playing with sand, taking care of their dolls. Olga has memory of our time here when she was two and a half and that is quite amazing. The memories are coming back to her as we walked this evening across the main road to go for sauna to the Hotel Ilves where we stayed for my thesis defence. It is nice to see that she has some connection to Tampere. For Venla, although she was borne here, all is new.
Both are doing very well in this short trip in Southern Finland. They stand the hours in the car (though they require good supply of pulla or karialian pirakka and fruit juice).
Tonight I was watching at the town from our window.Quiet end-of-summer-beginning-of-autumn. Cold wind. Few cars and people in the streets as is is Wednesday. Streets lights providing lights for empty streets. Apartments with lights on. Life flowing in those apartments. the fire brigade station new the hotel with its strange tower which is a copy of a mosque minaret in funki style (as they called here in Finland). It reminds of some Klimt painting frames or the Glaswegian McIntosh. The raw of widows of the firemen on duity. Some light on. few off. Fire men at home. Quiet feeling while the clouds reflects the bright light of the full moon and fly fats over this town.