You can never go back if you never leave.

I was having a Facebook chat conversation with my friend about some seemingly deep stuff and he asked me what I consider to be the best decision I have made in my life.

Now I don't know whether this usually is the kind of a question where a simple answer exists, but for me, it was so blatantly obvious it surprised even myself. The moment I decided to go and spend an exchange year abroad.

When thinking about that later on, I must have been barking mad. I was 16 years old, living with my parents when I filled out the application form. I didn't speak English properly, and I wasn't particularly good at making friends. My grandparents took me to London a year before I was supposed to leave in order to to convince me that I seriously wouldn't want to go to the UK for 11 months. They failed miserably. My dad was convinced I was never going to make it, and that I would be coming back before the year ended.

I was seventeen that summer I was taken to the airport of Helsinki-Vantaa. I stepped on the plane, knowing that I wouldn't be back in a year. And I was dead excited. Arriving to Edinburgh, they had a sign with my name on it. And on that rainy day in August 2007, my life as it is now, began.

If I said it was all easy I would be a liar. It definitely wasn't. I stayed with lovely people, but on my first day, I couldn't understand when they asked me if I wanted a cup of tea. My first day at school I got lost several times among the 1000 fellow students and had no idea where my lessons were supposed to be held. On my second day at school a bee stung me on my finger which swelled so that it was double the size. It's not a big thing, but when you are seventeen, unable to actually properly talk to anybody and located on an island a thousand miles away from home, it can feel like an end of the world. It hurt, and I cried.


After I couple of moths I started to understand what people were saying to me. I didn't get lost on the school corridors anymore and I had people I could talk to. What was remarkably weird in my mind was the fact that I didn't actually miss home. Not really. I was there, I had a new life and I knew I was going to go back eventually.

I managed to make friends. I even enjoyed most of my classes. I travelled to places and I bought things. I learned to love haggis. I learned to understand the Scottish accent aswell. Me, by myself. And it made me happy to be able to do all that. I was capable.

The worst crisis I faced was coming back to Finland. I had turned 18 and it was a sunny July. I didn't actually want to leave. I had started over a new life, build it all by myself on nothing. And it was like the plane ticket I held was tearing me away from who I had become. I didn't face a great cultural shock when coming to UK, but arriving back to Finland I just felt like a piece of puzzle that didn't fit in. I wasn't the same, but the surroundings were. I accidentally spoke some words of my native language with an accent, I missed baked beans and gosh, I longed to go back every single second I was awake.

Now almost five years later I have grown up a lot. I have understood how greatly it actually changed me to leave. And I seriously don't know who I would be if I never left as I see my life as pre-Edinburgh and post-Edinburgh phases. And still I don't think there's a better way to understand who you are and what matters to you than to start all over. You know, sometimes you have to go really far to see what's close to you.

I've gone back probably over ten times since. And it is what I always long to do. I'm Finnish, but the way I learned to live and see during the year will always keep me feeling a wee bit Scottish at heart. I am not torn apart anymore by being here and not being there. When I travel, I'm not torn apart by being away from Finland, not even on my month-long trips. I understood that my feeling of longing comes only from having something great out there - and that is not a shame, not something to cry over. I am just sincerely glad that I have two places I can call home.

So if you ever get the chance, go. Step out of the way and fall to the unknown. It was the best year of my life, and the best journey I ever chose to make.

An ode to chips on a deep fried pizza

When the subject of me having lived in Scotland comes up in Finland, usually the first things people want to know is wheter I do have a Scottish accent and is it always raining in the UK. Closely after that follows the food. Britain's known around the world for having terrible cuisine. I strongly disagree - but for some reason I have never managed to convince anyone. So let me try you.

I thought about giving this a soft start and tell about lovely Sunday roasts, but well, that's not interesting really, is it? Fish and chips is something they also offer here in Finland so that might not tell anyone anything new about my subject.

So I'll start with haggis.
As every Scot knows, a haggis is a small animal that runs up and doon the hills of the highlands. A general misunderstanding is that the dish is made of smashed sheep stuff that nobody else wants to eat, such as liver, stomach and heart. This belief did make my visiting relatives rather suspicious and nobody dared to try it. Talking about experiencing the country you're visiting...

Well, while I was happily enjoying my haggis-neeps-and-tatties, those so-called open-minded people promised me to try something local so I decided to take them where everybody tends to go for a simple but nice meal - the local chippy. For some reason the open-mindness didn't kick in. I got weird looks from them while I was trying to explain the joys putting all the best culinary items together - deep-frying, pizzas and chips. I had forgotten that the idea of chips on a deep fried pizza might sound peculiar to those funny tourists. After trying to persuade them for a while I managed to get them to order chips & curry - whoever decided to mix those things was a genius.


They survived their chippy experience just fine, and even admitted I was sort of right about the deliciousness of a proper chips & curry portion.

So inspired from that I tried explaining how you can actually put anything on a toast while in the UK. For some reason the idea of salt and vinegar flavoured crisps on a toast didn't sound too delicious to them. Neither did they get excited about beans on toast (seriously, who wouldn't love anything with tinned beans? Almost every meal missing them is a meal that is not complete - so why would you not put them on a toast aswell?)

Weird people those Finns, I thought and came to realisation that must have been gone for too long. The relatives thought the same about me.

I thought that fixation to this funny food would wear off after leaving the country (months later). But no. This blog post started from a huge cheesey pasta craving that got replaced by the craving for Farmfoods freezer stuff. Where else do they sell you frozen £2 pizzas weighting 30oz? And why they don't have curly fries or chicken pop-pops here in Finland?
Oh, and how can people actually survive without sausage rolls? This is just messed up.


I am not entirely sure if you have to be British to enjoy the food that you'll come across in there, but there's one thing I know for certain: it's been too long since I've had steak&kidney pie, sticky toffee pudding, home made trifle or coronation chicken sandwiches.

Neither am I sure if this post will work as I meant it to and convince a Finnish reader about the deliciousness of British food. But I gave my shot.