Helsinki Hunting

The alarm clock rings shortly past 8 and I struggle to my feet after less than 6 hours' sleep - emails, Wikipedia, Prison Break and the newest Harry Potter have kept me awake until late. A kiwi, newspaper, and a shower. It's about 15 degrees outside and it looks like rain again. My eighth day of apartment-hunting in Helsinki has begun.

After having my eye-sight checked (which seems to have actually improved slightly - something I never knew could happen), I return home and make the usual search through new flats which have appeared on the online search service overnight. One of them catches my attention, I make a call and find out it is scheduled to be viewed in an hour. I call my future flatmate J and, tummies filled with a second breakfast and our travel cards freshly loaded, we are soon on our way.

Pajamäki seen from space.
12:00 Flat 1 - space: 51 sq m - rent: 580€/month
The bus trip to the small residential area of Pajamäki takes about half an hour, but the very cheap price is worth seeing the place. We are greeted by a blunt realtor who eyes us suspiciously when we tell him we're looking for a shared flat. There are about seven other people interested in the place but the realtor doesn't seem too keen on answering questions and so we all shuffle around the empty rooms in a sort of embarrassed silence. The outline of the apartment is just what we're looking for: two separate rooms, a big enough kitchen, and a recently remade bathroom.

The entrance is dark and ominous but the rooms have enough light and views to the positively wildlifelike surroundings. There is a lot of space in the way of cupboards and even a spacious storage room. The leaflet advertises fantastic services in the area - we see a small grocery, a pharmacy and a shabby pub. The realtor hands out applications and rudely tells someone on the phone that the apartment is not available anymore. Halfway into filling in her details, an obese woman looks like she's going to cry when she hears no pets whatsoever are allowed in the flat, but the realtor doesn't look very interested in hearing the biographies of her cats. We fill in our application. The bus back downtown makes so many abrupt curves and stops I almost start feeling nauseous.

13:00
We set up camp at mBar. While J hooks up his laptop, I get our orders. The bartender splatters herself with yoghurt while making a blueberry smoothie and curses: "I just bought this in Beverly Hills!" (I can't make out whether she means the actual Los Angeles district or some new boutique I haven't yet heard of). We check out apartments which look interesting and make some calls. More often than not, we are forced to leave messages on answering machines or, in one case, leave a request for a return call for the third time to the same person. Where are all these realtors who advertise their services all over the net? Some apartments look very interesting (a spacious flat in Hakaniemi, a ridiculously cheap place in Herttoniemi) and we decide to follow their trail. Some give us goosepumps (a furnished dump in Itäkeskus) and we move on. Today has not been a very successful day in terms of getting new dates for viewings, but we are confident - it's only the beginning of August, after all. We are not desperate yet.

16:30 Flat 2 - space: 39 sq m - rent: 695€/month
A late lunch with Dad in Kamppi, and I head towards Eerikinkatu to view our next target. We are a small group standing at the entrance, waiting. We are pleasant with each other, but let's not forget we are also rivals in an ever-heating race to find a place in one of the most expensive capital cities in Europe. The neighbourhood is a bit seedy but extremely central, and I could well imagine living this close to everything. After waiting for a while, I call J and ask him what's taking him so long and he tells me he's already inside the apartment. I realise our group is standing at the wrong building and we all scramble towards the right one, jay-walking on our way (there is a sense of urgency now - every man for himself!!).

It's like in all of these central apartments: between thirty and forty people queuing at the entrance to get a peek, the realtor unenthusiastically handing out leaflets (she knows the apartment will be taken anyway so why put any effort into it) and everyone ecstatically filling out applications for dear life. The flat is not in extremely good condition. It is small, but not as claustrophobia-inducing as we had feared. One of the rooms is smaller than the other one, but the kitchen is fine. There are no cupboards whatsoever but the bathroom seems comfortable. The realtor receives our application and tells us she'll talk with the owner by Monday. We don't have too high hopes, seeing the pile of filled-out applications in her hand. We don't stay for too long - the next flat is waiting.

18:00 Flat 3 - space: 64 sq m - rent: 730€/month
The third apartment is located in the suburb of Pukinmäki (roughly translates into Goat's Hill) and we take a commuter train from the central railway station. During the fifteen-minute trip, a local is giving her Spanish guests a detailed description of the places we are passing. Her Spanish is absolutely flawless and I almost let out a laugh when she refers to Kallio, the quirky and bohème neighbourhood we are passing, as Las Rocas. Pukinmäki is no paradise. The tunnel under the tracks brings up scary images of after-midnight muggings and there's a meeting of local drunks at the station bar. However, we are determined to see this place: after all, it's bigger than the rest, the price is reasonable, and there are three rooms.

A five-minute walk brings us to the building. I check out the nearest bus stop's timetables. There are two lines to the centre and also a nightbus. Soon, the handful of people waiting outside are let in and we climb the stairs to the last floor. The first signs are not good - we look into the first room on the right and almost let out a scream. The floors are gray, with black zigzag stripes running through them. Looking left, we check out suspicious patches which look like the previous tenant's vomit. The realtor on this one doesn't look very confident but we plunge on.

Compared to the two tiny bedrooms, the sitting room seems too big and out of proportion. The kitchen is fine, so is the bathroom, but we return to the bedrooms to make a final verdict. The cupboards look very old and seem more like storage spaces for prison inmates. One of the rooms is shaped like a grand piano, making any reasonable placing of furniture impossible. A lady taps on one of the walls and it sounds like it's going to crash down. Behind us, a couple looking like they just escaped from a mental institution shoots blank looks at the air. We are prepared to move to the suburbs, but still feel like we've seen enough here and leave without filling in an application.

19:00
It is with a sense of relief that we arrive back at the Central railway station. Prospects are fine. Up to date, we have filled in four applications and one of them might even have chances of going through. We have only seen eight flats until now, and there surely are many more out there! And, after all, until something comes up, we both have roofs over our heads.