My first time in Helsinki

Helsinki street at night during a business trip, quiet city view for bleisure travel inspiration.

Last month, a business trip brought me briefly to Helsinki — so briefly that I’m still debating whether it even counts as bleisure. (A question I’ll save for another post!)

The trip began early on a Monday morning at Schiphol Airport. I met my client — a Dutch SaaS company — and we used the waiting time to fine-tune our presentation together. Airport tables, coffee, laptops open… that familiar pre-meeting focus that business travel surprisingly supports well.

We landed in Helsinki around 14:00 local time. After a quick check-in and a bit of work at the hotel, we headed out to meet their client. They were the local ones who welcomed us and guided the walk, while it was the turn of my Dutch client to pick up the dinner bill.

Choosing the Restaurant — and the Three Tempting Options

I’d been in charge of making the reservation, so weeks before the trip I asked the locals for recommendations. They suggested three restaurants, and all of them looked amazing:

Nokka
Located by the harbour in a beautifully restored warehouse, Nokka focuses on high-quality Finnish ingredients and traditional Nordic flavours. Game, fish, seasonal produce — elevated, yet rooted in local culinary heritage.

Kuurna
A small, cozy bistro in Kruununhaka, known for its intimate atmosphere and simple but refined Finnish dishes. The menu changes regularly, offering a fresh, local twist on classic flavours.

Shelter
Also near the harbour, Shelter blends modern Nordic cuisine with a relaxed, contemporary feel. Stylish without being pretentious — creative dishes, open-kitchen buzz, and a slightly more urban edge.

After investigating the three, I chose Shelter — and they did not disappoint.

What I ate for dinner on a business trip to Helsinki.

Dinner at Shelter — The 5-Step Surprise Menu

The walk from the train station to the restaurant was longer than I expected — and I was in high heels, which turned a simple stroll into a near-athletic challenge. It wasn’t very cold, but it was, of course, already dark. (Finland in late autumn and winter does not play around with daylight.)

Still, being guided by locals made the walk enjoyable. They pointed out buildings, shared bits about the city, and gave that insider perspective you never get on your own.

At Shelter, we opted for the 5-step surprise menu. Each course was beautifully crafted, thoughtful, and well balanced — the kind of dinner where you can tell the kitchen takes pride in every detail. It felt like the perfect blend of business hospitality and genuine enjoyment. Not stiff, not overly formal — just excellent food and good conversation.

After dinner, we walked back through quiet, dark streets. With only the streetlights, reflections on the pavement, and the harbour nearby, my entire impression of Helsinki is shaped by nighttime — atmospheric, calm, design-forward, and elegant in an understated way.

Too Short — And Now I Want More

Tuesday was fully dedicated to presentations and meetings: efficient, productive, tightly scheduled. And then it was time to head back home.

The whole experience made me reflect on something I want to explore in a separate post:

What exactly transforms a business trip into a “bleisure” trip?
Is it the food? The walk? The company? Free time? Exploration?

This short time in Helsinki gave me a hint of what could have been bleisure: good food, a nighttime walk, and conversations with locals. But it wasn’t enough to truly experience the city.

Now I’m determined to return — in daylight this time — to see Helsinki properly and enjoy a real bleisure stay.

Until then, this short trip remains a reminder that sometimes work takes us to places we want to return to — not for meetings, but for ourselves.

💬And now I want to hear from you…
Do you think a nighttime walk and a good dinner already count as bleisure? Or does it need something more? Tell me in the comments — I’m curious how you define it.


💻 About the Workation Diva
I’m Caro, an early pioneer of remote work, studying IT in the ’90s when “the Internet” still made dial-up noises. I’ve been blending work and travel since before it was fashionable, from spa weekends during business trips to half-vacations at my family’s place in Buenos Aires. These days, I live the part-time laptop lifestyle — balancing motherhood, projects, and plane tickets, proving that freedom can come in Wi-Fi and family-size portions.

Packing for Two Worlds

Digital nomad in chic travel outfit with minimalist carry-on suitcase, representing the art of packing for a workation and modern remote work life.

I used to pack shoes by outfit.
Now I pack around priorities — and the quiet hope that my mobile internet will hold.

Packing for a workation is not about clothes. It’s about identity management.
You’re not just deciding how many T-shirts to bring — you’re deciding who you plan to be.

Because the moment you combine “work” and “vacation,” you also combine selves.
One self is structured, spreadsheet fluent, and fond of ergonomic chairs.
The other one believes mornings are for coconut milk matcha, sea air, and staring at tiled rooftops.

They don’t always get along.

The working self wants strong signal, predictable hours, and maybe a power outlet that isn’t doing its best impression of a fire hazard.
The vacation self wants to wander, eat questionable street food, and pretend deadlines are a myth invented by management.

So when I pack, it’s not “laptop or no laptop.” It’s which self will win today?

The Mental Packing List

No one warns you that the heaviest item you’ll carry isn’t your gear — it’s your expectations.
Remote work promises freedom, but freedom comes with choices, and choices come with guilt.
If you’re working, you feel bad for not exploring.
If you’re exploring, you feel bad for not working.
It’s a suitcase of contradictions.

Then there’s the performative side: that inner voice that whispers, “If you’re not posting a photo of your workspace with a view, did you even work remotely?”
Meanwhile, you’re crouched next to an outlet in the hallway because your charger cable is 10 cm too short.

I sometimes think workations should come with disclaimers:
“Results may vary. Side effects include existential confusion, inconsistent tan lines, and long internal debates about whether ‘living the dream’ should feel this stressful.”

The Two Worlds Problem

Work-life balance sounds noble until you realize both sides have customs officers.
Work demands deliverables. Life demands experiences. Both stamp your passport and charge you emotional baggage fees.

The working world tells you to optimize.
The living world tells you to romanticize.
And somehow, you’re supposed to do both — ideally before checkout time.

I’ve learned to pack less — not because I’ve become minimalist, but because I’ve made peace with the fact that you can’t bring everything.
Some days, productivity makes it into the bag. Other days, presence does.

And when I inevitably forget something — a cable, a shirt, a sense of balance — I remind myself that travel isn’t about perfection. It’s about improvisation.

What Always Makes the Cut

Three things always earn their space:

  • My laptop, because pretending to be “off-grid” doesn’t pay the bills.
  • My phone with mobile data, because I trust my own signal more than any “free Wi-Fi” that comes with malware and regret.
  • My sense of humor, because without it, remote work would feel suspiciously like regular work, just with better scenery.

I’ll never truly travel light.
The mental load weighs more than any gadget.
But I’ve learned to carry it differently — like a seasoned traveler who knows the weight will always be there, but chooses what’s worth the lift.

At least my laptop and my hopes both still fit under 7 kg.

💬 Curious — what’s the one thing you can’t travel (or think) without? Drop it in the comments. Bonus points if it’s not an adapter.


💻 About the Workation Diva
I’m Caro, an early pioneer of remote work, studying IT in the ’90s when “the Internet” still made dial-up noises. I’ve been blending work and travel since before it was fashionable, from spa weekends during business trips to half-vacations at my family’s place in Buenos Aires. These days, I live the part-time laptop lifestyle — balancing motherhood, projects, and plane tickets, proving that freedom can come in Wi-Fi and family-size portions.