Helsinki and the North Pole, Finland
- chebelladonna
- Dec 25, 2024
- 5 min read
Updated: Mar 1
In another lifetime, when my children were little, we had the opportunity to travel to Finland over Christmas to visit family. Truth be told, I don't like to travel at Christmastime. It's expensive, crowded and people tend to be a in bad mood. My stance is that, for the most part, little kids want to wake up in their own beds on Christmas Day. But this was travelling to the mothership of Christmas. I was in.
We would be staying in downtown Helsinki for the majority of the trip with the exception of a side trip to Rovaniemi, north of the Arctic Circle. We were journeying to see the Big Guy himself.
We arrived to Helsinki just ahead of the winter solstice. It was calm and muted, cloaked in darkness, compared to the bright, hot, raucous summer we left behind in Buenos Aires. The kids voices were excited, and loud, reverberating through the quiet airport. They suddenly seemed a bit over the top after a long travel day. It was time for bed.
After a restful night's sleep to shake off the travel we woke up ready to explore this pilgrimage to Christmas. The park across from the hotel hosted a huge Christmas fair, full of gingerbread, licorice, traditional felt Christmas decorations, wool socks and underwear. I bought myself the most vibrant pair of red long john’s I could find. They are Santa worthy.
My favourite stand was, far and away, the licorice. I bought kilos of licorice, in at least a dozen flavours from mint to strawberry, to chocolate and coffee. They were delicious with the exception of the local salmiakki, a salty licorice that tastes like ammonia. It’s an acquired taste, and one that I haven't acquired.
The kid’s cheeks glowed rosily as they were dusted with a postcard perfect light fluffy snowfall. They proceeded to lie down in the middle of the city sidewalk, as soon as the ground turned white, to make snow angels, much to passerby's amusement. They had never seen the snow and couldn't help themselves. Downtown Helsinki looked like a dream with its cheerful shops full of sweets and pastries, its decorations and the thousands of Christmas lights that glowed in the dark days of winter.
Our highlight of the trip was still to come. We boarded an overnight train, from Helsinki to Rovaniemi. My youngest, who was three, was deeply in love with Thomas The Tank Engine and The Polar Express, looked like he might actually explode. We were off to meet Santa, and only days before Christmas. Is there anything better than being rocked to sleep on an overnight train? Tucked into a cozy berth, while being rocked back and forth, is as close as it comes to returning to the womb.
The kids frolicked in snow, played on ice slides and drank hot chocolate by the gallon. They wrote (or drew pictures on) postcards to friends back home and skated for the first time, on an outdoor pond. I realized how much we take for granted learning to skate in Canada. It's not an easy skill to master.
We travelled by reindeer pulled sleighs in utterly serene Finnish forests. The only sound was the rhythmic squeaking of the snow under hooves. We visited a husky farm and went out at ripping speeds with a dogsled team. And we did all of this with only a few hours of daylight. I have never slept better, or longer. It was so dark that the kids had to wear reflective vests over their snowsuits in order to be seen outside.
The highlight was a visit to Santa. And let me tell you this was no garden variety Santa. He was larger than life. In addition to his red suit I remember that he wore the biggest pair of woolen socks I’ve ever seen. I swear the kids could have used them as sleeping bags. He also sported the world’s best beard. It must have been three feet long. It was full, curly, white and natural. I’m not into facial hair, but this was a beautiful beard. Santa sat with us for an extended time like he had nothing else in the world to do. He spoke an endless number of languages. At the kids request we left him with our forwarding address in Helsinki, which he graciously took note of.
On Boxing Day, we travelled by ferry across the Baltic Sea to the capital of Estonia, Tallinn. What a cool spot. The old town of Tallinn, a UNESCO world heritage site, is one of the best-preserved cities in all of Europe; with a history that dates back a thousand years. Walking through the gates of this walled city takes visitors to another time. The streets are cobbled, the buildings medieval, the market charming and the smell fresh nuts roasting in the street, irresistible. I bought some beautiful leather goods and the most amazing felt hats. Hats made in fantastical shapes and colours . . . elves, fairies and woodland creatures. How could I say no?
Then there was the gingerbread. Early in the day we stumbled across a bakery. What ensued was a culinary moment. An intense, spicy gingerbread that was sandwiched with the darkest, richest chocolate ganache I’ve ever tasted. We went back three times - the initial find, the midday top up and cookies for the road ahead.
There were other smaller adventures. We went on walks and to parks. Finland is known for encouraging children to spend a lot of time outdoors. We also visited some local museums when we needed to head indoors - the science museum was fantastic and a day well spent with small children. The kids learned about the Moomin's - beloved Finnish cartoon characters.
Another, very cold and windy day trip was to the Suomenlinna Sea Fortress, initially built by the Swedes in the 1700s, on an Island just off the coast of Helsinki. Despite wearing multiple layers, including snow pants, it was deeply unpleasant - that wind was violent. I would imagine it's much better toured in the summer months. I needed to steam us in hot showers and wrap us in blankets at the end of the day.
One of the benefits of visiting family was that we didn’t have to give up our regular traditions. I was still able to cook Christmas dinner and made sugar cookies since we had access to a kitchen. Over New Year’s Eve we hired a babysitter, to pass the New Year in a swanky hotel bar. Auld Lang Syne!
As the trip neared its end I found myself out buying coffee one night and started chatting with the barista. She asked where I was from. I hesitated but replied, “Canadian . . . but I live in Argentina.” Her eyes lit up and she spurted, “Do you love it? I’m saving up to travel for a year in South America. I dream about it every night.”
Meanwhile I was in the midst of my 'end of trip' blues, something I've learned to embrace. They hit when I've been smitten by a new place, a new culture and realize it's almost time to go home. It's a fleeting melancholy, which passes quickly, but it's swift and decisive. I paused for a second and said, “It’s pretty great. You’ll have an amazing time." Wanderlust ... the struggle is real.
I apologize for the quality of the photos. I seem to have lost the vast majority in the sands of time. Another trip that lives on in the catalogue of my mind.
