June 17 - frozen, wet birthday celebration north of the Arctic Circle
Cousin Lise-Lotte and daughter Maria in Kristinestad
FINLAND
June 14, 1992
193 km to a rest stop near Raanujarri, Finland (above the Arctic Circle).
I had no intention of riding such high mileage today, but the warm, sunny conditions combined with a very strong tail wind made it possible. I had a real problem sleeping due to constant daylight and the buzzing of mosquitos on my front netting, so I decided to head into Kalix about 4:30 a.m. I arrived in Kalix about 6:30 and, since nothing was open, I sat on a bench and read until the stores opened.
About 10:00 a strong (30 mph) south wind came up. Since the next 130 km were straight north on a flat road I literally flew over the stretch in my highest gear. It was fantastic--like riding in a vacuum--no resistance to slow me down. I wished I had higher gears as I could easily have averaged 30 mph if I could have spun the crank fast enough. This is the penultimate wind I have ever encountered--the only better wind was that which I had when I cycled from Chico to Davis, California in 1980.
The stretch consisted of farm land and surprisingly lush forests, and is the most densely populated area I have encountered in the north. There were several villages and towns along the Torealven (the river dividing Sweden and Finland). But I flew along this stretch so quickly that it was like driving by in a car.
I had been eagerly looking forward to my arrival at the Arctic Circle, expecting a small roadside sign in the midst of a stark and desolate wilderness. Instead I found a 10 meter high sign in a populated area (there was a house right behind the sign near which a woman was tending her garden!). Not only was this incongruous, but the temperature was at least 80 degrees! Hardly what I had anticipated.
I continued north, after crossing the Arctic Circle, to a border crossing at Pollo, about 50 km distant. When I crossed the border I was grilled for several minutes by the border guard. Since I was the only person who was stopped, this experience did not help my long-time paranoia about border crossings. I simply do not like the arbitrary powers of border guards. On the other hand, I need to get over this feeling that I am still a suspicious 20 year old hippie (I guess I'm a suspicious 42 year old bum now).
Once I got through the border crossing I decided to go as far as I could, and then have a short day into Rovaniemi. Since I was now turning southeast, the tailwind had become a headwind. Oddly, I actually appreciated it as it cooled me down and kept the mosquitos at bay. I managed to ride 34 km without stopping. When I finally did I was immediately attacked by hordes of gnats, so I jumped back on my bike and rode a couple of more kilometers before finding the rest stop I am staying at tonight. I set up my tent in a mad rush, and had to kill at least 50 gnats that had gotten into my tent during the 30 seconds that the door was open.
Finland has a much different feel to it than Sweden--more wide open and more foreboding (the Swedish forests had a very open and accessible feel to them). The roads, unlike in most European countries, are marked like American roads with white and yellow stripes. Also, the drivers do not give as much room as the Swedish drivers (who generally pull over into the next lane). It was disconcerting to have several cars pass by within a meter.
Just took the quickest bath in history in an icy arctic lake. I did not have the guts to wash my hair as the waves were pounding in.
65 kilometers to Rovaniemi, at the Arctic Circle.
Was awakened by rain at 1:00 a.m. and had to scramble to put the fly on my tent. The gnats of the previous evening had been replaced by swarms of mosquitos and, since I was naked, I received numerous bites. I was feeling very trapped since I could not get out of my tent without literally being eaten alive. Fortunately, the rain let up by 5:30 and I geared up for the short jaunt into Rovaniemi, my first Finnish town.
Rovaniemi is located right on the Arctic Circle and has about 30,000 people. It is the administrative and cultural center for Lappland and is very fast paced and modern in appearance. The city was leveled during the Second World War and this fact was emphasized when I visited the cemetery. There I found a plot of 627 graves of Rovaniemi soldiers killed in the war against the Soviet Union. What a devastating impact that loss must have been on such a small city!
I almost got hit by a couple of cars when I biked into town, which reinforced my impression that these are among the worst drivers I've encountered so far. They pay little attention to cyclists and they drive by, even when there is no opposing traffic, within a few feet. This is a radical change from Swedish drivers. In the short time I've been here I can see that Finland will be a major culture shock. The language is totally incomprehensible with no relationship to any language I have knowledge of. Oddly, the Finns do not seem to have adopted any of the universal words that allow you to get by in other European countries. The prices are much higher than even Sweden, plus the food available in stores is much different than I am accustomed to. Had a lunch of dense dark bread which I topped with an unknown meat, similar to Spam.
After spending a few hours at the library (which is superb--more than 500,000 volumes), I decided to treat myself and stay at the local youth hostel. There I met, and had a long talk with Michael, a Scot from Aberdeen. He is a computer programmer who has taken a 6 month break to travel by train around Europe. The conversation was notable for the radically different perceptions that he and I had (i.e. he thought there were lots of poor people in Sweden, that prices were lower in Finland etc.). It was funny to hear an amicable, logical rebuttal to almost everything I commented on. I dubbed him Michael Contrary. I also spoke to an American college student (who Michael was trying to put the make on) who swore she saw me a Grateful Dead concert in Cleveland.
Very strong southerly winds kicked up this p.m. Hope it clears up by tomorrow.
110 kilometers to a forest monument called Jaapakampa.
Woke from an erotic dream about Geni at 5:00. This was unusual for a couple of reasons; first, because even though I love Geni I've had no conscious sexual feelings toward her, and second, all the dreams I can remember so far have been reality centered, dealing with survival on my trip. After drifting back to sleep I was reawakened by thunderclaps and now, at 6:30 I am out in the hallway looking out the window at the cold rain. I am reminded of a John Updike essay entitled "Finland". A couple of months ago I had checked out a book of essays specifically to read that one, and I was surprised to find it to be one of the most thoroughly depressing essays I have ever read. It describes Updike's coming to Finland, finding endless rain and contemplating his old age, physical deterioration and despair. How appropriate for this setting!
There has been really a startling contrast between Finland and Sweden so far. In Sweden everything was positive; great weather, good roads, courteous drivers, friendly towns and people. In Finland there have been headwinds, rain and cold, dangerous drivers and a town with a very rough frontier edge to it.
It looks like an all day soaking rain, in which case I am fortunate to be here and I may spend another night. I have been getting by with very little sleep throughout Scandinavia. I think I am only averaging 3 or 4 hours sleep per night. It is hard to tell because I would rarely sleep more than a few hours at a stretch and would be up 3 or 4 times each night. But I have not been tired generally and have had a great deal of energy for cycling. I've found that singing is a tremendous benefit and allows me to deal with the solitude experienced by all solo cyclists.
Up again at 9:00 and had breakfast with Michael. Very cold, windy and threatening weather, but decided to try my luck at about 10:00. Set out then on flat, lightly trafficked roads through the endless mosquito infested forests of Lappland. The weather held out until early afternoon when it began to rain steadily. As it was impossible to seek refuge in the woods (too many mosquitos) I continued until thoroughly soaked and frozen and then sought refuge in a series of abandoned barns. I wanted to stop for shelter and supplies in the towns noted on my map, but it turned out that those "towns" were no more than signposts on the roads. There was no sign of human habitation for this entire 110 kilometer stretch, with the exception of a few scattered farm houses.
Thoroughly soaked and miserable by late afternoon, I saw a sign for a "point of interest" called Jaapakampa. Having no idea what it was, I cycled the two kilometers of gravel road which led to it. I found a cabin in the woods, surrounded by, what appeared to be, a series of graves and a monument. Everything was written in Finnish so I am not certain, but I believe that a World War I, or Russian Civil War battle was fought at this site.
I was very excited when I saw the cabin, as I thought this would be a good place to sleep for the night. I was utterly frozen and exhausted as well as being out of food and water. Unfortunately, when I entered the cabin I was immediately assaulted by a legion of mosquitos who had beaten me to it.
So, back into the freezing rain, with hands frozen (my right thumb was completely numb) I managed to set up my tent, throw my sleeping bag in and jump in. But all was not fine and cozy this evening. I was soaked and all of my equipment was wet (including the inside of the tent and the sleeping bag). Soon puddles began forming around me in the tent. There was no way to get comfortable tonight; I only wanted to survive until morning.
At some points during the night I managed to dose off and I had some marvelous dreams. How resilient is the human spirit!
But mostly I waited, in utter misery, for the rain to stop. The winds were calm for several hours and I was cheered when the winds came back around 5:00 a.m. At least this meant the rain might blow over--the worst nightmare for the cyclist is an all day rain with no chance of letup.
My 42nd birthday. 140 km to a spot near Liminka.
The rain finally stopped about 7:00 a.m. and I ventured a look outside. The sun was shining! It was still freezing cold and though the mosquitos were swarming (this Arctic variety is awfully resilient) they were not biting. I dismantled my tent and hung it and my sleeping bag on the door of the cabin to dry before finally setting out about 8:00. The weather was cold, windy and threatening, but it never did rain.
Later that morning I met Marcus and Beatrice, two Swiss cyclists on a three month tour to the Nordkapp (the farthest point north in Europe). Marcus worked for an organization trying to put a bike path across Switzerland, and was a wealth of information regarding touring in Europe. He showed me his postcards from Finland--20 mosquitos taped to the side that you write on--great idea! They had handmade bikes (by Steve Potts) and were testing tires for Schwabbe, a German manufacture. Marcus told me that the tires cost about $70 apiece and were guaranteed for 8,000 km.
The riding was good during the first half of the day despite two long gravel stretches and the constant threat of rain. But when I turned west toward Oulo and the coast I encountered a 20 mph headwind which made riding difficult. Fortunately, there was a 20 km bike path from the outskirts into the center of the city. When I arrived in town I soon became completely lost. The signs made no sense and the people I stopped to ask directions did not speak English or Swedish. In addition, the town had the horrible smell of a pulp mill. It was also a military town and the people were very unfriendly. All I wanted to do was find food and get back on the road.
After searching for more than an hour in the city center I still had not found a grocery store, so I headed south and somehow ended up on the freeway (cycling not permitted). I went ahead and rode 7 km to a reststop where I ran into more hostility from the shopkeepers. Fortunately, there was a tourist information booth and the woman there steered me to the right road and to a grocery store (in an ultra-modern American style mall) where I was finally able to get some food. Because I was worried about my bike, I ended up eating my supper by the garbage bins in the back of the mall.
My biggest problem with Finland, besides the mosquitos, the weather and the hostile people, is the lack of places of sanctuary. It has been almost impossible to be comfortable anywhere. If there are no mosquitos there are unfriendly people, and if there are no people there are hordes of mosquitos. This place is starting to wear on me.
After eating, I decided to take the main coastal road south. This was a big mistake. The traffic was extremely heavy and the shoulder narrow or non-existent. So, I took the first available secondary road and will take back roads to Kristinestad. Later in the evening I stopped at a mosquito infested campground and was informed the charge was 50 FM ($12), so I said sayonara and walked Burton across the road the set up my tent in the woods. I've given no thought to cleaning myself tonight--it's much too cold. At least it's not raining.
174 km to a farmer's field 14 km south of Sievi.
Awoke at 4:00 a.m. to more rain, so put the tent fly on. By 4:30 I was feeling claustrophobic (there is nothing worse than sitting in a tent in the middle of nowhere waiting for rain to stop). At 5:00 I couldn't take it anymore so I assembled my bike and set off with the intention of riding as far as possible, rain be damned.
It was cold with light rain all morning and then the rain stopped only to be replaced by a powerful headwind. I went through a series of weather systems all day--calm with light rain, windy with beautiful cumulus clouds, and now at 6:00 (I am at a rest stop on the side of the road) it is windy but the clouds seem stationary with light rain falling. To the north it is clear, while the west and south are a solid, dark gray mass. I also got caught in a brief hailstorm which I tried to outrun but was unsuccessful.
Had a big problem with food today and had to use my emergency food (mushroom and mustard sandwiches) until I found an open store at Haapevesi (100 km into the ride!). It's a royal pain not knowing where services are. I've yet to meet anyone who speaks any English or Swedish. Actually, I feel like an animal in a zoo here. People stare shamelessly and it does not seem a curious stare, but a hostile one. Maybe I am misreading this but I doubt it. I find the towns to be uncomfortable. The people are not approachable, and there are no places of sanctuary. I have certainly not experienced ecstasy here yet. In fact, I've been pretty miserable, what with the mosquitos, cold, rain, headwinds, unfriendly people, flat and unchanging terrain, no places of sanctuary, high prices and incomprehensible language. About the only positive thing I can say is that the roads are smooth and with good conditions I could probably do 250 km per day. When I am in the towns I try to find a public building with a wall hidden from open view. These are one of the few places I feel comfortable.
Saw a great misprint on a t-shirt in a store window today. It was one of the ubiquitous football shirts, except it said "American Bowel Winner". It seems half the population wears t-shirts and sweats with American sports insignia on them. As in Sweden, the grocery stores have machines for returning bottles (deposit is 2 FM). You just stick the bottle on a conveyer belt and the machine spits out a receipt which you cash at the cashier's station. I tried to cash a traveler's check in Haapavesi today and I think it was the first Amex check they had ever seen. After several minutes of examining it, I discovered that the charge was $5, so I used the Visa cash machine instead. I ate supper at the Nivala Track Stadium--which was a really beautiful track and field facility, especially for such a small town. It is obvious that the Finns are very big on track.
The rain stopped so I set out for Sieva. There I turned off on a "secondary road" and found the traffic to be three times as heavy as on the main road (holiday weekend coming?). Got my first flat tire (after 4300 km!) which I managed to repair and then ride the final 5 km to the hay field I am now in. I'm visible from the road, but too exhausted to care.
200 km to a tree farm just west of Ålarus.
Finally, a nice cycling day! Warm and calm with beautiful, majestic cumulus clouds to admire all day long. I slept through the night for the first time since southern Sweden. I had a tough time getting going however, since my tire was flat again this morning, and after I repaired it I had another flat a few kilometers down the road. I had suspected that my tire irons had caused the second flat, but it turned out (after a lengthy inspection) that there was a microscopic sliver of metal which was responsible for all 3 flats. During both repairs I was swarmed upon by a new insect enemy--flies. I got so frustrated I started throwing blocks of wood in anger. Flies are surely a curse from hell. At least mosquitos bite you to survive; flies, on the other hand, have no real justification for driving you nuts--presumably they do it for the sheer joy of it.
After making the repairs I biked the few kilometers into Toholompi and had a leisurely breakfast in the (mosquito and fly free!) school yard there. It felt almost ecstatic simply to lie in the sun undisturbed by either man or beast. I also stocked up on food in Toholompi, which turned out to be a fortuitous decision as I did not run into any open markets for the rest of the day.
The cycling conditions were excellent all day long, and I decided to ride as far as I could. The Midsummer holiday traffic was heavy in places, which made for some uncomfortable riding, but otherwise the cycling was near perfect. The terrain was also starting to change; more low grade hills and lush forest (similar to the Swedish forests)--which was a pleasant change from the scrawny, mosquito infested forests of northern Finland. I also noticed that signs were in both Swedish and Finnish, so I knew I was nearing the Swedish speaking section of Finland.
As I started to enter the Swedish section I also noticed a change in the attitudes of the people; less staring and a more pleasant attitude in general--I actually saw someone smile! However, just as I was starting to feel better about this I stopped at a gas station in Lappajarvi to buy a Coke (I had been buying bottles of Pirrku Cola and putting it in a plastic bottle which I carried with me). Anyway, in a scene which was typical of my Finnish experience, I walked in and all conversation stopped, with all eyes riveted on the bizarre freako bicyclist. The clerk got up from her table and went behind the counter, but when I hesitated a moment in making my decision, she walked back to the table and continued her conversation. I then made my decision and waited for her to come back, but she never did. After several minutes I said "to hell with it" and left.
I bicycled until 11:30 p.m. and, although it was still light enough to continue, fatigue and cold were getting to me so I decided to stop for the night. Tomorrow I will be in Kristinestad and I'm nervous about the reception I will be getting from my never before met, or communicated with, relatives.
142 km to Tjöck through Karijoki and Lappfjärd.
A clear warm day with a strong headwind after 10:00. Rode the 25 km to Persunojoki and almost collapsed due to lack of food. As anticipated, nothing was open because of the holiday. Finally, just outside of town I found a campground, and after a comical series of exchange with non-English (and non-Swedish) speaking campers, I managed to find someone who knew some English, and was directed to an open kiosk. The clerk there did not speak English, but was very friendly, and she undercharged me for everything I bought (intentionally, I believe!).
Having food in my belly (how basic the needs often are on a bike trip!) I was able to continue on to the coast. However, it was very tough cycling due to the headwind, and also because I felt pressed to get to Lappfjärd before my relatives went out for the Midsummer festivities. The towns I went through had more and more Swedish signs and this made me feel comfortable.
I was thoroughly exhausted when I rolled into Lappfjärd at 4:30. At the same time I was excited about seeing the area where my ancestors came from, and nervous about my relatives. I went to the church where my great-grandparents had married and was astonished by its grandeur. Despite the fact that Lappfjärd is an agricultural village with a population of about 500, its church had a seating capacity of over 2,000! I looked through its cemetery, but could not find my grandparents graves. I then called Anne-Charlotte Berg (the only phone number I had) and she gave me Lise-Lotte's number (Lise-Lotte is the daughter of one of my father's cousins). When I called her, she sounded extremely kind and offered me a place to stay for the next few days. This was exactly the kind of reception I was hoping for!
I rode the 5 km to Tjöck where Lise-Lotte and her 17 year old daughter Maria met me with big smiles and hugs--like I was a long lost brother. It was wonderful. We walked to their home, a hundred year old farmhouse on several acres of land, located about a hundred meters off the coastal highway. There I met Lise-Lotte's boyfriend of 12 years, Håkon.
After getting my gear unpacked and putting it in Maria's room (she had generously offered it to me), we went over to Lise-Lotte's ex-husband's place where I showered (Håkon was working on the plumbing and there was no running water at their place). Then Lise-Lotte, Håkon and I went out for dinner at a local restaurant--hot food! The first I'd had in Finland. I savored every morsel of it. Then back home, where we have been talking non-stop and are now sitting in the living room watching "Long Day's Journey into Night" with Finnish subtitles. I am feeling comfortable and at ease, for the first time since I arrived in Finland.
Lise-Lotte is 42 and has short blonde hair, expressive eyes and a very kind face. She has been a nurse at the Kristinestad hospital for the past 21 years. One senses an enormous capacity for compassion in her. She loves her work and she seems to take great joy in all of the little things of life. I could tell immediately that she has a very loving relationship with Håkon. She writes poetry in her spare time--in three languages, English, Swedish and Finnish. She asked me many subtle questions about my trip and seemed very impressed by what I am doing.
Håkon is in his 40's and has dark bushy sideburns which give him a rugged appearance that masks a gentle nature. He is a self-employed electrician and is re-modeling the old farmhouse that is their home. He speaks excellent English and is extremely bright. I asked him innumerable question about Finnish culture, society, history and political structure and he provided me with thoughtful responses.
I had been interested ever since I had seen the film "Pathfinders" of a possible Lapp element in my ancestry (the Lapp actors in that film had similar facial features to me). My interest had been further piqued when I discovered that my ancestors had come from a town called Lappfjärd. However, Håkon told me that it had been almost 500 years since the Lapps had inhabited this area, and that the Swedish settlers who settled this region had come over in the 17th century. Furthermore, there had been little inter-marriage between the Swedish settlers and the native Finns. The Swedes had settled primarily on the west coast and retained their culture and language. They currently constitute about 5% of the Finnish population, and are being subjected to Finnish cultural hegemony (i.e. the state requires that Finnish be the language of education). There is considerable animosity between the Finns and the Swede-Finns and both Lise-Lotte and Håkon expressed some dislike of the Finns, whom they see unfriendly and prone to drunkenness. I saw a bit of this animosity at the restaurant when we were served by a Finnish waitress. Neither Håkon nor Lise-Lotte are fluent in Finnish, a complex multi-syllabic language, which has a staccato sound to it. Kristinestad (Kriistinepaaunti in Finnish) is approximately 60% Swedish and 40% Finnish.
Kristinestad itself is a pretty little town (with a Swedish feel to it) with a bay bisecting it. It was from this bay that my grandparents had departed when they immigrated to the United States.
June 21, 1992
A cold, rainy and windy day. A perfect day to be indoors and in a place where I feel comfortable and at home. Lise-Lotte and Håkon have been wonderful, insisting that I make myself at home. It is a pleasant surprise to find that I have such caring relatives.
In the morning I cleaned up my gear and worked on my bike (the crank needed another adjustment--more tape) before having a breakfast of various breads, cheeses, cucumbers and tomatoes. Then Lise-Lotte and Håkon took me on a tour of Lappfjärd, showing me the houses where my grandmother and her siblings lived. We toured the impressive church, which is built in the round with a pulpit 20 feet above the ground. We also visited the old cemetery where I saw the graves of my great grandparents. Lappfjärd itself has a small commercial district surrounded by semi-rural area--mostly potato and tomato growing (tomatoes are grown in large greenhouses which dot the area). We then went back to the house and had a huge lunch of pork, potatoes, vegetable, ice cream and raspberry shortcake. I had about 7 helpings (making up for the food deficit I had been experiencing) and was completely stuffed.
That evening we went out to meet some of my father's cousins. We first met Edith (daughter of grandmother's brother, Otto) and her husband Jarl. Neither spoke English and their Swedish dialect was virtually impossible to understand. We were there about 2 uncomfortable hours that were punctuated by long periods of silence (with Jarl looking down while drumming his fingers on the table). With the clock ticking loudly in the background, I felt like I was in an Ingmar Bergman movie--it was almost comical. The five of us then set out to visit Verna (daughter of grandmother's sister Hilma). I was not particularly looking forward to this as I knew that Verna's husband was a policeman, and I rarely get along with the policeman mentality. When we got to their cozy bay-side cabin I was warmly hugged and greeted by Verna. She was extremely friendly and she enunciated her Swedish clearly so that I would be able to understand it. Both she and Lise-Lotte did this for me, but the others spoke in the Swede-Finn dialect which was incomprehensible to me.
Edith showed me a book of pictures she had, and I was shocked to see two pictures of my father in it. She cut one of these pictures out and gave it to me. Some facts I learned: Edith has 3 daughters, Nina, Birgitte and Gunbrid who are a professor, a farmer and a nurse respectively. Edith is the sister of Alfred, the man who helped me when I was in Sweden in 1971. She told me that he had committed suicide several years ago. She also told me that his son Kjell (who had been my translator and companion when I first arrived in Sweden) had also committed suicide--by slashing his throat with a piece of glass. Edith complained bitterly that she was never informed of Alfred's death by the family, but I could never figure out why this was so.
Verna and Sigrud have two daughters, Sonja and Gunilla who are a university professor in Helsinki and a doctor in Stockholm (Solletuna Sjukhuset) respectively. Neither Sonja nor Gunilla are married, but they both have long-time lovers and Gunilla has a 15 year old son.
Verna and Sigrud had a wonderful sauna/guesthouse on their property. Almost every home has a sauna (including Lise-Lotte's) and it has traditionally served many functions--i.e. bathing, washing, smokehouse, place to give birth.
After all the visiting we went back home to more conversation and just relaxing in the living room. I got to play Håkon’s guitar and I listened as Lise-Lotte read some of her poetry for me. I am happy.
June 22, 1992
Cycled into Kristinestad this morning and nearly froze. It is about 4 degrees centigrade. and there is a strong north wind. Heard on the news that it snowed 25 centimeters in Lappland (hope Marcus and Beatrice did not get caught in it). Telephoned Lynn but got only a non-committal response, so it doesn't look like she will be riding with me--c'est la vie. Also tried to copy my journal but the charges were outrageous (2FM, or 50 cents, a page). Then rode back to Lise-Lotte and spent the day in conversation.
Some of the things I learned today: Great-grandfather Karl Forsberg was a stevedore in the summer months and a cabinet maker in the winter. As part of his job he made coffins. His wife Sofia prepared bodies for funerals--I saw a picture of her standing next to an open casket. Second cousin Gunilla Engman (44) is a geriatric physician at Solletuna hospital near Stockholm. Her sister Sonja is a professor of physics at a technical university in Helsinki. Lise-Lotte (born 9/11/49) is an only child and her father, age 91, is living in a local nursing home. Lise-Lotte says that her father fought in three wars, the first being on the side of the Whites in the Russian Civil War. During that war he had become separated from his unit and had come across a house in which a group of Reds were preparing to execute a local landowner. When he saw that, he fired his rifle in the air several times and frightened away the Reds. After the war, the man whose life had been saved bought her father a bicycle as a reward. Lise-Lotte said that this bicycle was her father's proudest possession, and that he used it for over 50 years. Her father was also a prison guard in the Second World War and had killed a Russian prisoner with his rifle butt. Lise-Lotte said that he has regretted this incident his entire life.
Lise-Lotte treated me today to some Karelska Pirog (bread with rice and egg in it) which is the traditional food of the area taken by Russia in the war. She also served another traditional Swedish food, sill (pickled herring), but I passed.
Wrote down one of Lise-Lotte's Swedish language poems:
Att bo på landet
i en räd gammal bondgärd
är som att sticka fötterna
i warma ullsöckor
Att sova i manljus
är som att drick
ett rent klart vatten
att känna doften av blomnande klover
är som att äta jordgrubbar med vispgrädde
att bara in ved till kvällsbrasan
och locka pa katten
är som att lägga handen in vännens hand
Att tassa bärfota på trasmattor
over knärrande golvtiljor
är som att lyssna på en visa
till gitarr
146 km to a field 10 km south of Kiikoinen.
Met Håkon's daughter Maria, brother Bengt and mother this a.m. before departure. Bengt's son had been in a car accident (broken neck) and they were very distraught. They had come to talk to Lise-Lotte about his transfer to a hospital in Tamefors. After they left, Lise-Lotte prepared a huge breakfast for me and then gave me enough food to last the day. She also gave me a pair of wool socks (ullsocker) she had knitted for me.
At 10:00 we said goodbye, and I set off. It was cold (high 40's) and windy, but it was a northwest wind and so was at my back. That was exactly what I needed since I had grown a bit soft with Lise-Lotte's mothering during the three days I was in Tjöck (I am sure that I ate more than $100 worth of food while I was there--immense quantities of bread, cheese, ice cream, eggs, salami and assorted cakes and biscuits). I felt a real sense of kinship with Lise-Lotte. She said that I was like a brother to her and the feeling was mutual.
The ride today seemed blessed by Lise-Lotte. A tailwind with no rain, and most amazingly of all, no mosquitos. Also the terrain was varied and interesting, the kind of mature forest that I found in Sweden. Late in the afternoon I had some ecstatic cycling that I enjoyed despite a nagging pain in my right achilles.
I have come half way to Turku (my ferry departure point), so I can take my time tomorrow regardless of the weather. My ferry does not leave until the following evening.
Went to sleep early and am now awake at 4:00 a.m. It is clear, calm and cold. I feel cozy and completely at peace. For the first time in weeks I can open the netting of my tent, breathe in the fresh air and listen to the birds sing. Everything is beautiful and fresh, and all is enhanced by the Bach that I am listening to on my radio.
Last night I listened to Radio Finland in English. They discussed the high prices, which they attributed to the government's policy of keeping a strong currency, and the lack of competition in the country. Hakon had also told me about the Finnish monopolies which kept prices up. Everywhere in Finland you see signs "S", "T", and "K". These are the three major super-companies from which almost all small businesses in Finland contract with to buy their inventory. I thought of this because yesterday when I shopped at a small town market (without the monopoly insignia) I found prices to almost half the normal price on many items. It looks like someone is making a killing.
117 km to a moose trail 5 km south of Mietoinen. I hope the moose doesn't show up.
A partly cloudy day with another north (tail) wind. Today I took my time and stopped for long periods in Kokemaki and Sakylo. I had a few nice empty roads (especially Ylane to Myramaki) and a couple of very busy ones. The stretch now, into Turku, is very busy, but does have a one meter shoulder. It was a nice easy ride today, as I just want to get close to Turku so I can go in early tomorrow morning.
Right now I am finishing off a pound of vanilla cookies. I cannot control my appetite--no matter how much food I bring to the campsite, I eat it all. Also, since prices in southern Finland are a lot more reasonable, I've been inclined to buy a lot more. The mosquitos are not bad at all--the southern variety, besides being less numerous, is far less ravenous than their northern cousins.
The oddest thing about Finland for me is that it is both very familiar and completely alien. It reminds me of Kafka's Metamorphosis. The familiarity lies in the roads and the cities (laid out in grids with shopping on the outskirts; the architecture is modern, similar to the US). The alien begins with the language, which is utterly incomprehensible and the Finns make no effort to assist those unfamiliar with it. The language is not pleasant to listen to--staccato and machine gun like due to its multisyllabic nature. Here are a few of the Finnish words I have learned:
Keskust = city center
Yliopiston = university
Kitos = thanks
vapaaratas-hammastrattardenyndistlema = freewheel
40 km to Turku (or Åbo, in Swedish).
Made the short ride into Turku in clear, sunny weather and arrived by 9:00. Turku is a majestic older city, more like those on the continent which were not destroyed in the war, than like its Scandinavian counterparts. It dates from the 13th century and has a cathedral from that period as well as two universities (Åbo Academy, a Swedish speaking school, and Turku Ypsilantio, a Finnish speaking school). My first priority was getting copies of my journal made and sending it off, so I went to the campus of Turku Ypsilantio and found some xerox machines charging only 40 pfennings. I then went to the post office but they said they could only send it via airmail, so I will need to wait until Sweden for that.
I spent several hours on the large Turku campus and felt the kind of comfort I usually feel on American campuses. It feels like an urban American campus, although it does not have the greenery and park-like atmosphere often found on American campuses. There was little "commons" area so I spent most of my time in the library and the cafeteria. I then walked along the canal which bisects the city and visited the cathedral. Along the way I tried the fast food grills (grilli), the first I'd seen in Finland. I had not one, but two hamburgers (hampurainans) and was impressed by their quality--lots of interesting sauces on them and reasonably priced at 10FM. I found a used book store and the clerk was quite helpful--I bought the book "Guns of August" by Barbara Tuchman. At 18FM it was a real bargain.
Later in the day I went down to the Viking Terminal and purchased my ticket to Stockholm. The 55FM price I'd been quoted was, as I expected, too good to be true. It turns out there is a 60FM tax on any ticket purchase made in Finland. So, the tax exceeded the cost of the ticket.
I am now on board the Amorella, waiting to set sail on an all night cruise to Stockholm. The ferry is unusual because it does not have the cabins or bunks you would expect on an overnight ride. However it does have comfortable seats that recline and so I should be able to sleep tonight.
We have been zigzagging our way for two and a half hours through the spectacular archipelago which lies between Sweden and Finland. There are thousands of island, many no more than a few feet across. The shipping channel itself is very narrow, a hundred meters or less in places. It is stunningly beautiful, and made more so by the lingering, far north sunset. Already some of the Finns are displaying their famous intolerance of alcohol. I must admit I do not particularly care for the Finns. Many have a chiseled, sharply defined facial appearance (especially the men) which evokes images of aggressive machismo. Although I never did run into any blatant hostility in Finland, I consistently felt uncomfortable among the Finns.
There is a large group of deaf teenagers on board--I wonder if Marlene could communicate with them. As far as I can tell, the passengers consist exclusively of Finns, Swedes and Germans. I did not see any other license plates and I have not heard any other languages.
CONTINUE ON TO FINLAND