Pass the mining town Kalgoori, through the emptiness of Nullarbor plain and weird atmosphere of Broken Hill, atmosphere full of silver tears the train took me to Queensland. And on the last stop there was my friend waiting for me. A Old friend of mine from the wild streets of The Eastern Finland.
Half asleep, half awake I sat on a kitchen table of Layne's family, and happily I took a sip of Finnish coffee.
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A travel diary of a storyteller's journey from Helsinki to Uluru and back
2 comments:
Yeay! What do you mean, Finnish coffee? Is there such stuff?? :p
Yeah. It's a kind of weird plant witch grows like blueberry bush, but it grows in a winter through the snow.
One common brand is roasted in Aleksis Kivi street with open fire from reindeer bones and birch branches and it's called Juhla Mokka
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