N° 30

Tourists get weirder and weirder every year. The ferry ticket operator in Jerktvika was no longer surprised by naked tourists on a pedal bike or German footform tourists with seaweed-filled bubble jackets of braided fists. The smell of five-day bodily seaweed, on the other hand… The Germans don’t exactly smell 4711 anymore, he thought.

The strangest thing last year was a group of Finnish forest trolls who had shaved their entire bodies and travelled around in a drone-controlled electric hot tub. The pale upper bodies were so bright that lighting was unnecessary. Under the waterline, they recalled a month-old water. It was troll tourism that had saved the settlement out here on the coast, but shaved forest trolls are and become anything but beautiful. Especially the Finnish. “Pieru, pieru, pieru! See kupli jalkojeni välillä” had one of the trolls shouted at him from the stamp.

“Hän ei ymmärrä mitä me sanomme,” laughed the second. He looked like a sham-shaped pine twig massaged with coagulated mould. They should have known, he thought. My mother was Finnish. Vitun metsäpeikko, he thought, and cut one hole too much in the ticket. Then it became leven in the stamp. The Pieru troll spat out a bad protest in Finnish, but when the Overferje beetle door barked back at the Suomi-satanlainsk, the troll goat passed the water line at great speed. One troll spontaneously got rid of a hot dog snab in the hot tub. The third troll made out until the scaly pine twig saw the last bark remnants slid beyond the ferry dock. “Ajaa!” it shouted, and the stamp rolled as the chlorine water swelled in all directions.

But it wasn’t Finnish forest trolls that were the variety of the day. Two Spaniards had just driven into the ferry dock with a strange vehicle. What in the malibari do we have here, he muttered as he clicked with the pliers and chewed lightly on his tongue. It was easy to hear that they were Spaniards. None of the passengers read like the coffee pot he bought at IKEA in 1992. Rolling hot tub?, he thought and went straight towards them.

The Spaniards, who spoke perfect English, albeit with the aforementioned Spanish, whistling speech errors, could tell that their car had broken down in Nikasjärväääyliënjiëjänkä, just inside the Finnish border. To all luck, they found a local plumber who had just started making roller stamps. For the uninformed reader, we can inform that rolling hot tubs are the great hit of all time in Finland. Nokia, Rubber Boots, Pearl, Mumitroll and Vodka: Go to St. Petersburg, Surabaya or hell if you want! In Finland, there are roller strips that apply. In every other garage, microfilters, waterproof swimming trunks, hydrostatic warning triangles, pool bands, lining, polystoryopolen seats, pure flytolon life jackets, cup holders with Q-tip dispensers and rotational nostrils are produced. Whoever walks through a normal housing estate can hear the punching machines; Dunk, dunk, dunk, dunk. Elsewhere you will hear compressed air sounds and high frequency vibrator cranks from mounting machines from Tronrud Engineering itself at Hønefoss. Not from everyone, but from one of them. Now it is the case that Tronrud Engineering comes in sixpack, and if you are really lucky you can hit two of them at once. That’s the way it is at Hønefoss, but let’s return to Nikasjärväääyliënjiëjänkä eight days ago.

The Spaniards swapped the crashed car, a red 1954 model Jaguar XK120, for the plumber’s literally wet dream: A three-wheeled Sauna rollata Pukkalainen Aqua 6000 with remote control and imported oyster roofs from far America. The roller stem has spontaneous heating of water in both pools (0-100 (‘C) in 4.2 seconds), holder for garnish (straw, flowers or twigs can also work), massage plates for musculus gluteus maximus and drainage plug in clean brass.

The hardest thing, the Spaniards could tell, was to get specification in place. We’re talking about vehicles from the very top shelf, so there was a lot to take a stand on. In order for the Spanish mansion to accommodate the luggage, the Finnish plumber offered to send the enhancement with tuk tuk directly home for them. Coincidentally, there was a Thai who had been brutally mistaken at a roundabout in Bangkok and who was now in the north of Finland in Nikasjärväääyliënjiëjänkä. He could swerve into Spain on his way home to a fistful of Finnish fields. Mr and Mrs Espana were looking forward to returning home to cavia-coated dipsticks, underwater cigarette lighter, waterproof conversion table from Kelvin to Celsius, rear-mounted kitchen garden and support wheel with drop-in box for library books.

The ferry controller was unable to control his enthusiasm. Mr. Espana liked the uncompromising admiration of the man of the coast. As he rolled past Helgelendingen, he reached out his hand and donated a bathing duck to the controller on the pier.

“El que tiene un pato para bañarse nunca está solo” he said as he swelled aboard his saltwater-filled roll-up Sauna rollata Pukkalainen Aqua 6000. The checker realized that this meant something to la: whoever has a bathing duck is never alone.

Additional info for those who do not speak forest trolls Finnish:

Pieru, pieru, pieru! See kupli jalkojeni välillä: Promp, promp, promp! There’s bubbles between my legs.

Hän ei ymmärrä mitä me sanomme: He does not understand what we are saying.

Vitun metsäpeikko: Fucking forest trolls

Ajaa!: Drive!