Third Time Lucky?

By Elizabeth Johnstone

I have been to Rovaniemi, Finland, twice already in pursuit of the elusive ‘foxfires’ or northern lights – and, of course, to catch up with Arctic Mensan friends.  Despite optimal conditions in January 2014, that fox stubbornly refused to swish its tail across the sky and I never saw the sparks. So I had an excuse, as if I needed one, to return in January 2015.
It was difficult to create an ATOL-bonded weekend trip through a normal travel company, so I booked flights through BA and accommodation direct with the Rantasipi Pohjanhovi Hotel. Through code-sharing, three out of my four flights were with Finnair. Things got off to a bad start with lengthy delays on the Piccadilly Line en route to Heathrow. I dropped my bag off on time but the flight to Helsinki was delayed. We made up time thanks to a fearsome tailwind that buffeted us all the way. Next came a nerve-shredding half hour transfer window. I tip my hat to the baggage handlers at Helsinki Airport who got my bag to its final destination.

The Pohjanhovi (‘Northern Court’) Hotel is a venerable institution, constructed in 1936. It has been updated over the years, and I had no complaints about my clean and cosy room. I did, however, overhear another guest asking to be moved out of the annexe into the main building with its superb view over the Ounas River. Breakfast was perhaps not quite as lavish as some of the other local hotels, but suitably fortifying for the rapidly decreasing temperatures.

I sent postcards as soon as I arrived, joking that I would return with a suntan because it was ‘only’ -5C. Over the weekend, the temperature plummeted to -30C. Almost all of me was covered but ice crystals formed on my eyelashes and in my nostrils. I have pretty much mastered the art of cold-weather dressing. Last year’s vintage fur gloves with silk liners were replaced with reindeer mitts over merino wool gloves (fewer seams to let in the cold). Disposable surgical masks raised no eyebrows in a town full of Japanese tourists. Next time, though, I might add a hat to my earwarmers. 

Rovaniemi is not a huge place and I had seen most of the sights before, so I concentrated on meeting friends and setting the world to rights over excellent coffee. I was invited to friends’ houses. One created a lavish three-course feast with local produce. Typically Finns grow, trap, fish or otherwise source their food for themselves when possible: useful people with whom to be stranded in the wilderness. Another friend apologised for whipping up something at short notice, having been out of town all day. She proceeded to bake a couple of trays of bread rolls from scratch. Not what I could have done ‘at short notice’!
My hotel had a prime location beside the river. I never tired of walking along the path, admiring the brief periods of light and the magnificent sunrises/sunsets which occurred within a few hours of each other. I had been lightheartedly warned, however, not to greet any other walkers (as I might have done at home) as this would be perceived as an invasion of the other person’s privacy!

I should have brought a Russian phrasebook. Numerous Russian families took advantage of the school holiday period to drive to Finland (possibly to enjoy non-potholed roads, as one Finnish friend suggested). Any comments about a ‘Russian invasion’ are a bit two-edged in this part of the world. Russian ladies are not keen on the baggy cold-weather suits hired out by the safari companies. With a glamour bordering on flamboyance, they either wore fur coats or their own designer ski-suits.

My main outing was to the Santa Village a few miles out of town on the line of the Arctic Circle. At this visitor attraction, Santa is to be found deep in his underground lair. You can visit him and chat with him for free (as we have done in the past), but the elves charge you handsomely for any photos. The souvenir shops are relatively tasteful, featuring real arts and crafts, and there are outlet shops for famous Finnish lifestyle brands like Marimekko and Iittala. I was thrilled to buy the latest Iittala mug from the new range Tanssi by Klaus Haapaniemi, based on the opera The Cunning Little Vixen. 

Wildly out of character, I visited Huskypark, signing up impulsively for a sledge ride pulled by huskies. Absolutely thrilling! The husky is the nearest thing to a wolf. Before the park came into view, I could hear the huskies not just barking but howling. It was their first run of the day, and they set off as though fired from a gun. I was instructed to keep everything firmly attached to myself, and to hold on tightly. Wise advice. I am not particularly an animal lover, but these handsome animals were most impressive – and cute.

After a busy morning of hurtling round on a sledge followed by souvenir shopping, it was time for refreshment. It is fatally easy to ingest too much caffeine in the Nordic countries, so I made for a tepee offering various hot drinks and salmon grilled over an open fire. It was too early for lunch (although I was sorely tempted), but the hot berry juice and gingerbread biscuits went down a treat. I got into conversation with the Belarusian proprietor and he enthused about how safe it was to live in Lapland. Suitably revitalised, I went back out into the village. There was at least one new attraction since my last visit. Snowman World offers an ice bar, hotel and restaurant plus fun activities. I was charmed by the snowman out at the front who was a Finnish ice hockey player. From his jovial expression, the Finnish snowmen’s team had just beaten the Swedish snowmen’s team.

Russian families queued up to see multilingual Santa, go on reindeer sleigh trips and toboggan down the purpose-built slopes. I spoke my first word of Russian, thanking the nice lady who took my photo for me. 

Back in town, I trawled through the supermarket, admiring the local products. I do not share my countrymen’s aversion to eating ‘Rudolph’. An all-round useful animal, the reindeer. I stocked up on lingonberry preserve, xylitol chewing gum (xylitol being one of the many by-products of the mighty forest) and the darkest rye bread known to man.

All too soon, it was time to head back. And no, I did not see the northern lights. Three out of the four nights were cloudy and snowy, fair enough, but the last night was clear and bitterly cold. There is no accounting for a natural phenomenon, although I must confess that I was disappointed. I’ll just have to go back. That fox will swish its tail across the sky for me, I know it!•

First published in VISA 120 (April 2015)