Finland is probably the Nordic country I’ve visited most. I’ve seen it in summer and winter, and somehow it still surprises me.
In summer, the days stretch so long that the sun seems unwilling to leave. Farther north, it doesn’t set at all for a while. Winter turns that feeling around: the daylight shrinks, snow covers everything, and the darkness seems to last forever. I love both versions.
I’ve gone back more than once hoping to see the Northern Lights. That search has taken me out into temperatures I would normally avoid at all costs. One night, I rode a snowmobile through the forest at around −25°C. Adventurous is the word I use now. At the time, I was mainly thinking about how cold my face was.
I have a photograph in front of a plane wearing a half-sleeve T-shirt. The temperature was −18°C. I can’t offer a sensible explanation for the T-shirt, but I do have photographic evidence.
Travelling by road through Lapland brings another surprise. On a highway in India, I’m used to seeing cows by the roadside. In Finland, I saw reindeer. From the bus, watching one cross a snowy road when the temperature was heading towards −28°C made the whole place feel wonderfully strange. Everyone waited for it to pass. It belonged there.
And then there’s Santa Claus Village. I’ve met Santa twice, which feels like more than most adults can claim. I think children would love it, but I did too. At Christmas, with the snow and lights around you, it is very easy to forget your age for a moment.
I don’t ski, though I enjoyed seeing the ski resorts. The lifts, the snowy slopes, the space around them—it all looked inviting, even to someone who planned to keep both feet on level ground.
Finland is beautiful without demanding your attention. It gives you forests, snow, quiet roads and a sky that changes completely with the season. You can go for a family Christmas trip, a summer of long days, or a cold night spent looking up for the aurora.
I’ve been more than once. I would still go back.