Swapping the Med for a lake in Finland? It’s a real splash hit
MY SON Edward has learned how to row and it’s his favourite thing already. This time, he has his favourite aunt for company. One minute, he’s wielding his oar with a flourish, and the next he’s standing up and waving at me on the shoreline.
What happens next is like a scene out of Kenneth Grahame’s children’s classic The Wind In The Willows. The boat goes wibble wobble before capsizing with an exuberant splash.
‘It’s OK, mummy,’ Edward says, emerging from the lake with sodden clothes and squelching shoes. ‘It was an accident.’
Sadly, Auntie Letty’s phone is a write-off but Edward is only disappointed that we can’t hang it on the washing line to dry.
We had swapped the Mediterranean for a summer trip to Lake Saimaa in southeastern Finland – a three-hour drive from Helsinki.
The appeal of Finland lies in the vastness of the landscape. Confetti-blue skies wrap around us while the flat countryside stretches out for miles.
Dirt tracks lead to red farmhouses nestled among fields of potato, barley and yellow rapeseed.
Further ahead, fields turn into woods, and woods into forests, while road signs caution against moose straying into our path.
We’re staying in a lakeside log cabin (mokki) in Anttolanhovi, with its own private wood-fired sauna, jetty and rowing boat. Here, Alvar Aalto furniture reigns among reindeer-skin rugs, Iittala glassware and Marimekko flowery linens. It’s a contemporary twist on the traditional summer cottage.
Traditional mokki come with a sauna but no running water and no electricity, and they have outdoor toilets, where soil is dispensed by the scoopful instead of water. Hot saunas, followed by skinny-dipping in a moonlit lake, underpin the Finnish way of life.
The surrounding walking trails are enchanting. Buckets in hand, we set off in our wellies to pick mustikka – wild bilberries – to bake a pie. In our family, mustikkapiirakka is all the rage.
‘Where are you going?’ asks mummo, Edward’s Finnish grandmother. ‘We’re going on a bear hunt,’ Edward declares.
Silver-barked birch, pine and spruce trees grow like the woods in a fairytale illustration. This is where my husband Toby spent his childhood summers but he has yet to meet a bear, so Edward may be disappointed.
The boat excursion from Anttolanhovi to see rock paintings makes for a delightful afternoon. Edward is excited about the prospect of catching a glimpse of the endangered Saimaa ringed seal, native only to this lake, until the lull of the boat’s engine puts him to sleep.
The prehistoric rock paintings may require a little imagination but their remote lakeside location make the scenic journey worthwhile.
‘Cave Baby!’ exclaims Edward, referring to Julia Donaldson’s picture book of an artistic baby doodling on cave walls in prehistoric times.
‘Mummy, enough writing,’ shouts Edward. ‘Come on, I’ll take you rowing!’
I’m tempted to say I’m too busy, but then The Wind In The Willows springs to mind again.
After all, as Rat would say: ‘There’s nothing – absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.’