An Unexpected Finnish: From Kazan to London, via Saint Petersburg and Helsinki

Sitting at Saint Petersburg Bus Station, the situation we found ourselves in still hadn’t fully sunk in. An eclectic mix of people and nationalities had poured in as the station opened its doors: families, students, tourists, or in our case, people working in Russia. Wherever in the world they came from, the destinations they were hoping to get to were largely the same: Finland, Estonia and Latvia - which share the three closest land borders with Russia. Saint Petersburg has always been seen as Russia’s most Westernised city - a window onto Europe - and this had never been more true.

This came just eight days after Russia had begun its full-scale invasion of Ukraine - sparking fury and economic sanctions from all over the world. For the first few days, the atmosphere remained largely unchanged, despite an increased police presence in the centre of Kazan. Whilst protests in Saint Petersburg and Moscow attracted thousands, those found in Kazan were a much more low-key affair. Any anti-war gatherings were swiftly dispersed by the authorities. That being said, it wasn’t until the early hours of Monday morning that the situation began to look more worrisome. Looking through the now-blocked BBC News website, I saw that both the American and French governments were advising all citizens to return home immediately. Assuming that the British government would swiftly follow suit, I scrambled to my laptop and spent the next couple of hours trying to find the quickest route out of the country. With airspace bans to virtually every European country, a land route to Helsinki via St Petersburg looked to be the best option. Having booked two tickets on the next available coach, we at least now had a route out of the country.

The next day, I informed my employers and landlady of my decision to leave, which they were very understanding of. The next two days were spent bidding farewell to friends, before flying to Saint Petersburg on Wednesday evening. There we had arranged to stay with a friend until Friday, which gave me the whole of Thursday to revisit the city in which I had spent six months during my year abroad two years ago. I earlier mentioned Saint Petersburg’s status as a European city, and there was a palpable sense of rebellion just from walking around the city. On almost every street, anti-war graffiti and stickers could be found on walls, lampposts and street signs. This was a far cry from Kazan, where such blatant acts of dissent towards the establishment were few and far between. When we met a Russian friend that evening, she told us that she attended one of the protests the previous week - avoiding arrest - and was worried for the future, which Russia becoming a pariah state, cut off from the rest of the world.

And then, at 6:30am on a typically cold and windy Petersburg morning, began the seven and a half hour coach journey to Helsinki. The first couple of hours flew by, aided by the beauty of the Northern Russian countryside, until it was time to cross the border. We had to leave the coach on two occasions to go through passport control: once on the Russian side, and once on the Finnish. Funnily enough, the attitudes of the officials on either side fit their national stereotypes perfectly. The Russian officer looked at me suspiciously and didn’t say so much as a word, whilst on the Finnish side, they were chatty and perfectly pleasant. Despite always finding Russian people to generally be warm and kind - as they are in most places - they always seem to be let down by their border officers. Perhaps this is why the stereotype of Russian people being cold or rude exists. It would appear that first impressions count when you first enter a country. 

Countryside on the Russian
 side of the border

The second half of the coach ride passed without event, and we arrived in Helsinki on time. After locating some lockers to leave our bags, we were able to look around the city for a few hours. Despite the Finnish capital’s relative proximity to Saint Petersburg, they differ hugely in terms of atmosphere. The most evident thing to me was how much more easygoing it felt in Finland. I then realised that I am always subconsciously more cautious when in Russia, due to the police presence and generally less liberal political system. It was a strange feeling to pass from Russia- a country that chooses to isolate itself from the rest of the world and suppresses its people’s voices - to Finland - a liberal, open democracy in just a few hours. 

Having spent enough time sightseeing around Helsinki, we headed to the airport via the (predictably efficient) transit system from the city centre. It was at this point that the biggest hitch of the journey presented itself, in the form of a two-hour delay courtesy of Ryanair. But, we got home in the end, landing at Stansted at around midnight, and arriving back in Acle at around 3am on Saturday morning, making the journey 24 hours from door-to-door.

Now, having a chance to reflect on the events of the last few days, of course I feel a sense of relief at having been able to leave whilst it’s still (relatively) easily done. With rumours of declarations of martial law and border closures to follow, it still feels like we made the right decision. That being said, I can’t help feeling worried about the future.

Of course, primarily for the future of the people of Ukraine, who are suffering unimaginably at the hands of Putin’s reprehensible invasion. But also for the ordinary people of Russia, who have been dragged into this against their will by a tyrannical leader. All of my Russian friends are vehemently opposed to this action, but in a country with such draconian laws against the right to peaceful protest, they feel helpless to bring about change. Most opposition leaders have already been imprisoned or at least silenced, making organisation of any form of meaningful protest a near-impossible task. My landlady wrote to me a heart-wrenching message before I left, which reads as follows: “So many people are fleeing the country. Everyone that’s able to is leaving. I have nowhere to go here and I can’t flee abroad, as I have my elderly mother here. I’m just worried for my children.”

Having arrived home at such short notice and with no real plan, I have put myself forward to work as a volunteer translator and English teacher for prospective refugees leaving Ukraine and heading to English-speaking countries.