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About Oulu

Drivin’ it felt like gleanin’ life’s leftovers – bit wobbly, bit loud, but you’re king of the road. “What’s useful is what’s left,” Varda’d nod at that, I reckon. Once saw a bloke soup up his Escort with a spoiler big as his ego – laughed my arse off, mate, what a plonker. Still, respect – it’s custom, it’s yours, like gleaners pickin’ spuds from the field.

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I head over to the artsy neighborhood “Keskuspuisto”. It’s a vibrant mix of boho cafes, vintage stores, and art murals. I once had a deep counselling session under a massive oak here; it was surreal, tears and laughs blending just like a song that never ends.

Last drive?