Whichever the route a traveler takes for getting into the heart of Lapland, most likely he’ll go by Sodankylä, where all the roads meet for then forking again. Same those who go to the popular Nordkapp as those aiming unforgettable Inari, the ones driving towards lovely Vadso or the other ones heading hostile Murmansk, also he who just wants to get lost in the deep forests of the large natural parks, they all have to meet here, in Sodankylä, gate to the Great North.
Being the main crossroads in the Finnish arctic circle, all kind of travelers converge here before taking, each, their own particular course; therefore it’s no wonder that, with barely nine thousand inhabitants, this town abounds in bars, lodgings, kahvilas, shops and restaurants, goes without saying important services like petrol stations and workshops. Sodankylä is alive, lively and busy; but at the same time feels cozy and close, endearing, strangely warm.
By the Russian border when riding from Salla to Sodankylä
I’ve come here taking a long route from Salla, passing very close to the Russian border, then up towards Savukoski and west to the E63, which comes all the way from Jyväskylä, more than eight hundred kilometres to the south. It’s well known that I prefer quiet byroads. By the way, in Savukoski I stopped for a coffee in a kahvila where I’ve come across a German family, parents and a child, who were coming from their country riding a motorcycle with a huge convertible sidecar, quite original. Upon spotting them on their biker suits sitting at the terrace, I sat close for having some conversation. We chatted for a good while, the typical small talk; and they told me, in a matter-of-factish way, they were going to Nordkapp. Apparently every other biker around here is supposed to be going to Cape North. But I’m not so sure about that.
Before parting, I ask them where will they sleep tonight, and they vaguely talk about Sodankylä. Perhaps we’ll meet again there, then, or somewhere else further on to the north. The sun rays strike heavy while we put on our gear: jacket, gloves, helmet, sunglasses; that small routine that makes us, bikers, feel like riders. Despite the high latitude, the excessive hot–for this region–of the past few weeks has not slacken yet. We jump on our motorcycles and start the engines almost in unison; then we part with a farewell wave, each taking a different road.
Coincidence wants it so that, ninety kiometres later, we arrive to Sodankylä at the same time, too: right when I’m waiting at the stop sign in the main junction I see them crossing from my right. We nod to each other, but then I could’t find them anywhere.
Kitinen river by Sodankylä
Lodgings in Sodankylä are almost fully booked. I ask in several places but there are no vacancies. Only hotel Karhu (means bear in Finnish) has rooms, but it’s out of my budget, so I finally stay in the campsite, called Nilimella, at about one kilometre from the centre across the Kitinen river, where I’m lucky to have the last available hut. I like the place, very green and tidy, tha lawn closely mowed. My cabin lies by the boundary trees, but when I come in it feels like a sauna; it’s been hit by the sun all day long, and that’s a lot of hours, as arctic summer days are extremely long, the longer the upper. It’s basically furnished, but comfy and pleasant. As I tidy up myself in the common showers I leave the door opened for it to cool down a bit. I trust people here. Really, this country gives me a feeling of safety that I appreciate a lot; nothing to do with Central or Southern Europe.
Around the lawn I see people from all countries. There is a Spanish couple with a separatist sticker on their bike’s plate, but they’re not speaking in Catalan; probably thinking they’re not understood by anyone here, they don’t need to show off; there is also a group of Italian bikers and some Dutch motorhomes. By the rental cottages there is a car with French plates and another from Germany. Later on, while strolling on town, I overhear a young couple speaking English with a USAn accent, and I spot some bikers groups from different countries. Apparently many of these people aim Cape North, which seems to be a major tourist attraction; I’d have never told.
East shore of Kitinen river by Sodankyla
There is still some sunshine and my body feels like a refreshment, so I made up my mind for a plunge in the river, using a small beach on the eastern shore. Some kids are playing ball, some gals are suntanning, and a few boys enjoy themselves laughing loud on the small jetty; but you can hardly see anyone in the water. When I get in I find out why: it’s rather cold; much colder than the last time I tried to take an open bath, down there in Sahalahti, about two weeks ago that seem to me one month. That lake was like a soup; but this is a river and much more to the north; maybe that’s why, who knows?
Kitinen river walk
After the short dive I lay down on the towel and doze for a few minutes. The sun, having already lost its azumut, warms me up just enough for giving me back the energy I’ve lost in the water. But I wake up half cold, then I grab the towel and go back to my hut. When passing by the pub near the beach I read a sign advertising live music tonight. Good idea. But until then I still have time for scouting the town and find some place for dinner.
There are many businesses, all looking fine, and I made up my mind for Pälvin Kammari, a restaurant on Jäämerentie street whose sunny terrace calls me stronger than the others. And it’s maybe here where, for the first time this trip, I have the chance to properly dinner a good reindeer dish, served with cranberry jam and garnished with potatoes and vegetables. I’ve ordered the most expensive dish in the menu, sparing no expenses, and I’m glad I’ve done it. The meat is simply delicious, tasty and tender like no other. As a drink, of course Lapin Kulta, Lapland’s beer.
Garnished reindeer meat and a Lapin Kulta
It’s such a pleasant moment that I enjoy myself as much as possible. It feels so good here! Sitting at this table, relishing the delightful dish, drinking a good beer and warmed up just enough–not too much nor too little–by a sun that can’t make up its mind about setting. It feels so fine now, I don’t even know if I’m missing some company. I guess I do, but I’m not sure.
After supper I go back to the pub by the beach, the performance is about to begin. It’s neither crowded nor empty; about the right atmosphere. It’s two musicians–one guitar and vocal, other on the keyboard–playing popular songs with arrangements of their own that sound quite personal and fine. I like it here, the event is so Finnish, so familiar and close. They’ve set up the platform on the large terrace, but one hour later, after a break, they move inside beccause of the mosquitoes, which have kicked us out. This is the main problem in Finland during the summer: the mosquitoes. There are thousands and give us no truce. It’s been a mistake on the organizers not having them into account, because a quite a few customershave left, overwhelmed by the insects, and by the time the stage has been moved it was already too late. Still the show went on, with nice songs very well performed.
The cold waters of river Kitinen, infested by mosquitoes
It’s past eleven when the musicians hung the microphones and start packing; then I go back to the campsite. Despìte the hour, the sky is not yet dark–actually it won’t get dark during the whole night–and in the high clouds one can tell a coming change of weather; also in the temperature, of course, which is getting rather cool. Hopefully this stifling summer, too warm for this country, is finally coming to an end. The campground’s lawn is very still, and the grass is covered with dew. I’m glad to feel the warmth inside the hut, stored by the sun-hit wood during the day. I won’t need to leave the door ajar this time.
Dusk in Sodankylä
It’s about two or three in the morning when I wake up feeling like a pee, and when I walk to the toilets the cold makes me shiver. I look up at the sky: it’s already dawning.
!–:–
