For as long as I can remember, I have had a soft spot for Finland. It’s the country where my love for the Scandinavian countries began, one could say it is where I started to become my true self. Maybe it’s the never ending stories of the endless pine trees, reaching up to the ever so mysterious skies. Maybe it’s the fascinating collection of the thousands of lakes, fed by the falls and stretched by the rivers. Maybe it’s the peace of the people, that never seem to be in a rush or stress about a single thing. Maybe it’s the quiet, pure air that’s like a winter breeze on a hot day, flowing all the way to the stomach. I have always loved this humble country that somehow is mainly known for its winter trips, whereas the summer is just as amazing. In Inari, the Sami town of the north, we could basically cross of the Finland bucketlist; hike under the never ending golden globe in the sky, turning the days endless and the possibilities along with it. We strolled by the lake, to hear the tiny waves bump against the soggy grass or touch the gravel beaches, leaving a sound as if tiny glass splinters were being crushed under massive force. We watched beautiful skies, forever coloured by the sun, and never got tired of the endless parade of reindeer majestically walking trough the town, as if they owned it. And as drivers patiently waited for them to cross or smiled at them joyfully, it actually did feel as if they owned this, very fitting, Sami Town. and as if our hike to a wilderness church, hidden in a far away forest, or our hike over a mysterious river with a violent past of gold robbery, weren’t enough; we got to spend an entire week in an electricity-free, anti wifi, no floating water cabin in the middle of the woods, whereas we helped taking care of a bunch of beautiful huskies that I had met before during a winter job.
That obviously was an experience I had been longing for, for a while now. Spending some time with 101 huskies, focussing on nothing but taking care of them, is physically intense, but mentally, liberating. The most beautiful part is probably when it’s warm but not that warm and we can train them, meaning they get to pull a troll cart instead of a sled, and I hopped on the quad to join which allowed me to watch the beautiful wolves run, with a look of pure joy in their eyes and their tongues waving around excitedly. At the same time I could enjoy the intense green of the forest, the carpet of mushes and tiny blueberry plants, the yellow sneakpeeks into the forest as swamps appeared, the always creative shapes of the pine trees, and the quite rare openings in the forest where rolling green fields appeared, old wooden shags barely still standing on their tops. After a week where the focus was aimed at nothing but taking care of the dogs and ourselves, we returned to the world of the living. Inari, with its 1 bar, 1 lunch place, 2 supermarkets, 3 overnights and massive lake, really was considered a bigger town in Lapland, yet still with a population of 500 residents only. I would miss the warm hugs of the dogs as they threw their big paws on my shoulder and their warm breaths heated up my cold hands. I would honestly miss the poo digging and the carrying of heavy buckets for watering, I would miss their excitement when feeding or hiking time arrived. All of it could be challenging, but I genuinely enjoyed the mushing lifestyle and I was so grateful I had a chance to grab a week of it on this holiday, which was totally unplanned for. But now, it was time to head for a new experience one discovering Finland cannot miss; a roadtrip.
We had been trying so hard to create the perfect roadtrip, but lurking on the Northern edges of Finland it was extremely tempting, convenient even, to grab Norway along on the road. And we would have, if not for the fact that very last minute the Covid rules no longer allowed us into Norway. So instead, we simply focussed on some interesting corners of Finland. We both formed a loyal fan club of the Sami culture and by asking the extremely nice locals at the extremely nice Hopea café (with exxxtremely nice fresh waffles) we managed to create an interesting list of authentic towns, allowing us to travel trough Lapland in a circle within 4 days. And that was a perfect timing, as we were nearing half August there was a fair chance that by the time we finished, the darkness would start to set again. First, we would head to Näätamö, a Sami town forming the border with Neiden, Norway, in the North-East. The road, was endless. A never ending asphalt road curved its way to an oasis of pines and yellow green fields. There was nothing here, except a deafening silence, rudely interrupted by our car. Every now and then, very little only, red wooden cabins would appear, and I truly couldn’t believe people would live this far away from the world without feeling intimidated by the loneliness and the overwhelming quiet. I told myself they were summer cabins to keep the good vibe up and I kept following the road further up North, only deeper into forests, closing in on me more and more. Every now and then the trees spread to make room for more lakes, dark, but clear. Or rivers, wild, but peaceful, feeding another lake.
It was enchanting to follow the road, it made you feel as if you were about to fall of the earth sometimes. But finally, we did arrive in Näätamö, and I really cannot imagine some far away town in Alaska being any different, as I couldn’t get more remote than this. A gas station and 2 supermarkets, that’s what Näätamo was. They existed of simple wooden buildings and stood by the completely abandoned road, whom again hided in between hills one wouldn’t expect from Finland (calling Finland flat is like calling Amsterdam quiet) and the shocking thing is that the entire community it lies within, Sevittijärvi, only has 350 residents, of which probably 10 in Naatamo as I saw only 1, big yellow wooden house by the river that flowed to Norway. This is where we attempted, pointlessly, to enter Norway still, but sadly had to drive back trough the little no-mans land between Finland and Norway. Having been entertained amazingly by a supermarket with about 100 sorts of pickles, unknown kinds of sweets and an impressive collection of stickers, we now had to head back on the same endless road that made me feel sleepy and the most happy girl on the planet, all at once. After this, the road via Kaamanen to Utsjoki, the northernmost village of Lapland, started. This road was absolutely stunning, as it was basically a constant freefall of steep hills climbing up and falling down, therefore always hiding a new viewpoint. But the road climbed so high compared to the low-laying area around, that it was possible to see the entire world, so it felt.
As far as the human eye could reach, we saw forest. It reached so far that it coloured blue at the edges, vague silhouettes of what should be trees. You know you see the world when that shade of blue is being pulled over the world as if you literally see its edges. And it only gets more intimidating if you do not meet anyone on the road, and even the reindeer seemed to have disappeared from Lapland. This is how it feels to be alone on the planet, yet feeling so united with life. After this pretty emotional road, we now curved and cornered trough hilly forests with a river by our side, to reach Utsjoki, a town that’s also inhabited by Sami. They have their own culture and language, and even go to their own schools. It’s fascinating to see the life they built up here in the abandoned corner of Scandi, with again only 1 bar, one kiosk, but again, 2 supermarkets. It truly was an enchanting experience to see that this is how life can be too, and I finally learned to appreciate certain city habits I thought I hated. Reindeer crossed the road now and then, this squad was guided by a beautiful albino reindeer, white as a snowflake with pink antlers and shiny bat eyes. It almost seemed to be stepping out of a fairytale, and when a rainbow started to draw from the mountain to the river, I truly felt like I must have ended up in an amazing story, about a far away world one could only enter by entering trough a porch, and it was called Lapland.
- It's an amazing life
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