a day in Finland

Oh, the weather! You try to make do with what comes your way (as the Danish people will tell you -- it's not the weather that's the problem, it's what clothes you choose to wear for it). You try to shrug it off and find beauty in what's thrown at you, but at the end of the day, it really can make or break your travels. I learned that early on when, newly married, I wanted to show my then husband my beloved Alps. We went to Switzerland for a week. it rained for 5 out of the 6 days we were there. We saw very little of the Alps. 

Since then I've been cautious. I try to meet the weather moment and have a plan B if the weather does not cooperate. Rain in Paris? It can be lovely! A cold spring in Nice? Pack a jacket! And so on. But sometimes it's all just out of your hands and you roll with the dice and your trip can be grand or it may completely fall apart, because of the weather. Take this year -- there is no way I can think of to enjoy a Paris where it is 106F/41C there. You can enjoy your air conditioned hotel and spend time wondering if the country will be investing in more air conditioning units elsewhere any time soon. 99% of apartments in Paris do not have central air. The architecture doesn't easily allow for it. All 4 and 5 star hotels are required to have AC, but 3 star ones are exempt from this, and budget options only provide fans. Open air cafes? Some spray mists on you. And here's the worst part: only half of the metro fleet provides some cooling. The rest? Open windows, which, during a heatwave provides no relief.

Conversely, great weather can absolutely make you fall in love with the world. And really, though it was cool and momentarily wet in Warsaw, overall, we have had great weather on this trip. I am in love with the world, or at least my place in it.

*     *     *

Breakfast at the hotel. Here's a reason to appreciate this place: there is one very special table in the restaurant. Surrounded by windows, it can accommodate several diners, but it is especially intimate for a couple. Yet they gave it to me at breakfast time. Because it was empty then. It's not often that a solo traveler gets directed to the prime table in a restaurant.

(sunshine pouring in from all sides)

 

 

*     *     *

I want to go to the Finnish countryside. I love the forests, the lakes -- all of it. (The lakes don't have algae, the forests aren't infested with mosquitoes.) But to get to a National Park (an obvious choice for a walk in the forest) using public transportation isn't easy, because you have to change buses and then carefully time your return. And more importantly, you have to know the park. The trails are numerous and I would have no idea which ones are good. So I did what I normally would avoid at all costs: I booked a trip to the Nuuksio National Park (a close one to Helsinki) with a small group. Just 8 of us, plus our guide who is supposed to be focusing on the environmental aspects of our hike. (It's with Wild Frame Adventures -- surely the name tells you something...) It's billed as requiring moderate stamina, with some ups and downs and a distance of just a handful of miles. I do wonder what "moderate" means, but I think I should qualify, no?

I hurry to the meetup point. We leave promptly at 10 (it's a 45 minute drive to the north of Helsinki).

Let me just tell you the bottom line first, and then I'll take you along for my hike.

The adventure had some of the downsides of hiking with people. Walking in a group, even a small group, in a forest, feels too confined. And you can't lag because our guide was prone to taking twists and turns along new paths, so you could easily get lost if you didn't stick with the rest.  

Another downside: when you live to be 73, and you love nature, you get to be pretty familiar with the basics. Add to it your plant identifying apps, and your bird apps, and there's nothing you can't learn on your own.

I was by far the oldest. Our guide was 25, the rest were sprinkled between 20s and 40s, with one outlier at 55. (Touchingly, a young man in his 20s extended a helping hand occasionally. Either he was unusually attentive to his elders or I looked really old in his eyes. I didn't need any of his help, but still, it was very sweet. I would say that compared to the walks all over Warsaw, the planting of my garden a few weeks back, the nonstop travel we've had -- this hike was small potatoes.  

 

And the upsides (for there were many!)?  The guide, Emma, was charming and she tried hard. I'm not sure I would quite call her a knowledgeable environmentalist, but she was an earnest nature lover and it showed. 

The route she took? Fabulous! Just absolutely wonderful. Stunning. The park fulfilled all my wild side yearnings. 

And the add-ons were also fun. In Finland, parks leave you with logs to use for campfires and an ax with which to chop them. (Can you even imagine an ax being left for your use at our National Parks? I'd be terrified someone would pick it up and come at me with it!) Emma, our guide, brought with us Finnish lunch foods for a campfire, and water bottles filled with water that was lightly touched by berry juice. 

In all, I was extremely happy to have done this. 

So, now for the photos, mostly of the lakes, because they just stood out for me on this gorgeous day!

(water lilies, but no algae)

Emma explains the rules: you can pick berries (blueberries which grow in abundance, and lingonberries which are also numerous, you can pick mushrooms, flowers for yourself, but you cannot touch lichen (a protected plant which reindeer love), you cannot litter, and you must respect the need for silence, because Finnish people apparently like to enjoy nature in serious silence. We didn't see many people at all. Shocking, given that it's a holiday weekend. They must all be in their cabins or in a sauna somewhere.

 

(Emma points out a not so small anthill; indeed, ants were crawling around everywhere in this area)

(lichen: a sign of a healthy forest and very pure air)

(dense berry bushes)

At a place where they bring logs should you need wood for a campfire, Emma asked who would like to split the logs for our fire. Several of the men volunteered. None of the women did. So this 73 year old granny took to the ax. (And then she promptly sent the photo to Ed. And the daughters. She can be a bit of a show-off!

 

 

We hiked with the wood and pieces of birch bark to a beautiful fire pit by the water. Some of us tested the lake while Emma prepared lunch.

What foods? Our guide reminded us that Finnish people like simple foods. We had meat (or veggie for me) buns, grilled, sausages (pork or veggie), and Leipaajusto -- a baked cheese that I actually see at our farmers market; Wisconsin has a sizeable Finnish population. Emma served the cheese with cloudberry jam.

 

 

(a climb to the highest summit in the park -- which isn't very high, but still, it has an impressive view)

 

 

On the walk back to the van, we pass a few cottages. Emma tells the park is young -- just 32 years old (a reminder -- Finland as a country is young. -- just 108 years old). People who had cottages here when the park opened were allowed to keep them.

 

 

And then we're in the van, heading back to Helsinki. Except that this one annoying passenger -- the 73 year old grandmother type, is too enchanted with the lupines blooming everywhere and asks for maybe a quick stop so that she can take just one photo?

 

 

 

Okay, just two photos...

 

 

Once in Helsinki, I hurry a]back to the hotel. I want to greet the arrivals from Estonia! 

*     *     *

Within a few minutes, the Estonia travelers arrive. It's so good to see them again!

 

 

 

We walk over to the Brasserie Lione. It has a few things going for it -- our hotel recommended it as a not too formal place that's open tonight with well liked food. And it had room for the 6 of us.

 

 

 

Half of our table had Arctic Char, which swims in the colder Scandinavian waters. But we didn't have dessert, thinking maybe we'll pick up some ice cream along the way. 

 

 

That didn't happen. Finnish people are early-to-sleep types. And it is a school night! All the ice cream stands were closed. As we turned back to the hotel, we passed the last of the Harbor fruit stands. They, too, were closing up and heading home. They had just a few pieces of fruit left. The sweet, sweet vendor handed them to me. Enjoy! -- he said. And we did enjoy! All of it -- the evening, the weather, the satisfying foods, and of course, reuniting in Finland now.

 

 

 

(the chocolates are a gift from Estonia) 

 

 

with so much love... 

June 21st

How do you celebrate the first day of summer, the longest day of the year (or the shortest, depending on where you are), the end of a magical trip with one young family, the anniversary of the parents, father's day, the last meal together with the two little girls, the warmth and sunshine flooding Copenhagen?

It's a tough one! 

My daughter invited me to breakfast with them at their Tivoli hotel. I come a bit early, just to sit on the terrace and take in the quiet, empty park.

The peace that comes to me is total. My travels with them are nearing the end and I am sending them home happy, into their environment of friends, familiar neighborhood haunts, a washing machine and a dryer (not to be made light of!), their lovely home nest. It's a great feeling to have your youngest child go home so content, ensconced  in a life of her own making.

They come down fairly quickly. I have a flight at 12:45, theirs is about two hours later. We have time for a leisurely meal.

And it is both beautiful and delicious. The omelet is superb, the berries -- yummy, the pastries -- awesome, the yogurts -- refreshing, the milky coffee -- begging for a refill, though I hold off on that. I had many cups of it yesterday, but today, I should slow down and maybe allow myself to doze in flight..

And the girls, delightful -- as they have been all along here, despite the fact that they, too, have been going to bed around midnight and getting up for breakfast on time each day.

(sneaking over to get a poppyseed almond cream croissant for mom)

 

What a trip! Oh, what a trip!

A final good bye then -- to them (happy, happy anniversary!), to Copenhagen, to our travels together, reminding me of way back when, but now with the new twist -- of being with their family, equally committed to making it a good trip, one for the ages, as all travel is actually, because it counts, it all counts. Every moment is special.

 (walking back to the hotel to pick up my suitcase...)

 

 

*     *     *

I'm at the airport waiting for my flight to Helsinki. Here's something you should know -- the city, no, actually the whole country of Finalnd closes down this weekend (through Monday) in celebration of solstice. Juhannus Eve, followed by Midsummer Day (Saturday this year). How does the celebration proceed? The emphasis is on nature, family, community.  If you have a cottage in the woods or by the lake -- that's where you want to be. With bonfires, maybe dancing, certainly feasting, it is, after Christmas, the most important holiday in Finland.

So it's a bit of a mystery to me how Helsinki will look on a day like this. Empty? With tourists only? The internet tells me that everything is closed. But how does it feel to be there, just 323 miles away from the Arctic Circle on the longest day of the year?

I walk to my gate. The airport is crowded with travelers. I surely do not need to shop. I'm carrying my nephew's artwork and a backpack. There is no need to spend more money. Except, I saw these little Maileg mice in Copenhagen. Baby ones, dressed in an old fashioned way. Wouldn't it be sweet to add them to the girls' collection? I pick up a couple. I continue with my rather long stroll to the gate. I pass a chocolate store. Such delicious looking chocolates with the flavors of summer! Wouldn't my friends like them? I pick up a box or two. I keep on walking, this time intent on not buying anything at all, and who in the crowded airport should I see but these lovely ones!

I have two mice for you! Now I don't have to mail them!

 

My flight is one of those that you just have to endure. the trip itself shouldn't be long, but the plane is hot and they wont start the engines until the very late large group of old people from some far away country have arrived. I dislike overheated planes, but at least the door is open. It's a tight and small aircraft so it doesn't connect to the jetway. And of course, I have this irritating cough which I always get after a cold because that is the way my bronchial tubes operate, and I feel like everyone around me wishes they were sitting somewhere else. I don't blame them. I wish I were sitting somewhere else too. 

The flight is operated by SAS, but I'm listening carefully and I note that the crew speaks Polish to each other. Poles in search of better paying jobs are everywhere.

Finally, we take off...

We land...

 

 

*     *     *

Helsinki. The older family of five is arriving here tomorrow, so this transitional day is mine only. I booked rooms at the Kamp Hotel, because of the location and the availability of connecting rooms for them. I cab over to it. The highway today reminds me of Covid times: empty of traffic. So people have left!

But the hotel is full. And lovely. With a wonderful, welcoming staff. And still, I run into a hiccup: they have upgraded me! You'd think that's a firm "yay!" but it is not. The new room is in a renovated wing of the hotel. It has a beautiful view onto the park, but to get to the room, you have to take the elevator to the 4th floor, and weave your way around snaky corridors until you come to an old stairwell and an old elevator which then takes you to the proper 6th floor. I dont mind, but Snowdrop, who'll be sharing a room with me, will mind, especially since I have to leave her alone in the room when I take off on Wednesday at dawn.

So here I am again, asking for a room change. The upgrade goes away, but that's okay, I'm fine with any of their rooms which are spacious and have a sitting area! 

And they fiddle things around and come up with a solution and it is so good! The room doesn't have the park view, but it's bright and airy and very very lovely. 

As for dinner -- I ask them what's nearby and open tonight and they list a handful of places! So much for relying on the internet. And one recommendation is just across the strip of park and it has tables outside because, did I tell you? It's a beautiful sunny day in Helsinki! 

 

 

I take a walk first. And I see that the market along the harbor is also open. It is berry season indeed and it's an effort for me to walk away without buying their strawberries and blueberries, grown in Suomi (Finalnd). 

I admire the fruits, I admire the waterway, because Helsinki, like Copenhagen, is all about the sea.

There are many walks you can take around town, but I long ago decided that on my solo day here (tomorrow), I will do as the Finnish people do on a holiday: leave the city. I have such fond memories of the countryside, the forests, the lakes -- from my summer here when I signed up (more than 50 years ago!)  to teach English to a Finnish farm family of 4 kids. Riitta, Raja -- I remember their faces. In the village of Hirvivuori. They must be in their 60s now! We were such babes as they taught me the sauna rituals, and taught me to ride a tractor! I wonder if they speak English well now... 

So tomorrow, I'll do a trip out to the forest. Today? Let me follow the recommendation of the desk clerk and go to Kappeli Restaurant/Bar.

Most people are sipping wines and beers and apperol spritz's. I'm back to N/A beers. 

 

 

And I order the traditional Finnish creamy salmon soup with potatoes. And a salad with goat cheese. 

And then I retreat to my hotel. No midnight walks for me tonight. Feet up, exhale, process everything -- the three necessities of life, following a crazy and very beautiful set of weeks.

Helsinki sunset today? 10:30 p.m. 

with so much love... 

a second day in Copenhagen

Slowly, thoughts of my return creep in. I still have four nights in Europe, which, on a typical trip, would be half my getaway. Nevertheless, the period after my travels is looming big and I'm starting to focus a little on it, not because I want to, but because I have to. A move is a move, and this is a big one -- a final settling into my home. 

But in the meantime, I am in Copenhagen, and the weather is remarkably un-Danish -- warm air. Europe is experiencing a heat wave in the coming days. The unimaginable temperature of over 105F/41C in Paris. The Nordic countries translate this to a pleasant warm spell, with temperatures reaching 78F/25C here, while Paris is sweltering.  You have to feel sorry for western Europe, where air conditioning is not common. And we surely do feel lucky with the lovely weather in Denmark.

*.    *.    *

My first breakfast is at the hotel and it comes in stages. Should I be satisfied with just yogurt, muesli and milky coffee?

Nope. Berries added.

That will do, right?

Nope. Cardamon roll added.

My second breakfast is with the young family: we walk to the Hart Bakery in the old meat packing district,

(a happy city, with lots of bicycles...)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's a bakery we love completely, for its cardamon croissants and buns and everything else they offer.

("should I get something else?")

 

 (The answer was -- yes)

(The walk home)

 

 

*.    *.    *

The girls want to go to Tivoli. And well they might. When you have a room that looks out onto the park, you are tempted! It's a good way to relax in Copenhagen. I join them there. And I fall in love with their flowers all over again!

It's positively inspirational! No marigold pelargonium combos here! You get the feel of meadow flowers without a meadow. And roses -- which of course, are my special interest this year.

 

 

  

 

 

 

As for the rides -- well, I find it interesting that Primrose and Juniper fell for the same two rides at Tivoli that were Snowdrop's favorites. And it's not that this is a universal preference. These are not ones where others are begging to repeat again and again.  

 

 

 

 

 

I leave them right around lunchtime. I had the idea that I would rest and pack. I did neither. So much to process, photos to edit, a quick snack to grab at the downstairs cafe... 

And a bit after 4 we set out toward the dock where you can get on a boat and tour the waterways of Copenhagen. This is a must, because you cannot feel the pulse of the city without giving your attention to the sea, the canals, the islands that seem to bubble up from water. And the people love it -- the shores, the plunge into the cold waters of the harbor. There are young people everywhere you look -- full of appreciation for this gift of warm sunshine.

 

 

 

 

 

After an hour on the water, we get off and walk to our restaurant for dinner.  

 

 

It's a special place: my daughter came here with her husband and one year old Primrose on their first trip to Copenhagen. They went back to it three years ago, while I babysat Primrose and one year old Juniper. And this year, we're all eating here together.

It's called  Barr and it is exquisite. 

 

 

Were I in Copenhagen alone, I would never go there. It's in the hub of a very lively place of open air eateries, of people everywhere, meeting up over a drink or two. You'd feel strange sitting alone at a table here. Too, it's about a 35 minute walk from the hotel -- not a distance I typically like to set for myself for a dinner alone. But with the four of them? It's just superb. I want to note especially all the green spring vegetables (asparagus, peas, baby potatoes) all smothered in green herbs. But also the schnitzels: I chose a mushroom one and it set me thinking -- maybe I should cook something like it at home...

 

 

 

(my plate of food... that's a red nasturtium!) 

 

 

The girls were angelic. A long dinner -- they worked on their art, they wrote postcards to their cousins.

 

 

 

 

 

Such an evening! 

Just three more  photos, because really, it's our last evening together, and it's been an incredibly grand week!

 

 

 

 

 

Enchanting. Simply enchanting!

 

 

Tomorrow, we leave Copenhagen. I head east, they go west.

with so much love!!!