It was an early start (on Thursday 13 April) but I decided to avoid a taxi to the airport. Why spend £60 and ruin the environment when I can get an electric train all the way to Heathrow? And do I really want to listen to a racist taxi driver telling me how much he despises the Mayor of London and going on about the ULEZ? No, I don't, so I found myself on the 0709 Victoria train followed by the Underground to Paddington (via Oxford Circus) and then a rather pleasant, albeit short, ride on the Heathrow Express to the airport.
Rovaneimi, 0725 Friday morning, minus 5 degrees... |
For some reason, past bitterness created by the hassles of travelling simply evaporated; annoyance and weariness had left the building for some reason. There was no animosity between me and the airline, I couldn't really be bothered with Guy Debord's Society of the Spectacle, in fact, I never even stopped to spray myself with the Eau Savage tester and even 'security' was a doddle. There were no queues to speak of and yes, I had to take my laptop out of my case and all the usual stuff, but nothing phased me. I was happy. I made my way to The Curator, a restaurant, where I ordered a cup of English Breakfast tea and a 'pan hash' with a fried egg on top. It was pleasant and when I was finished I asked for the bill, paid up and made my way to Gate 3 and my awaiting Finnair flight to Helsinki. Dressed like the Milk Tray man I waited patiently for the flight to board and when I discovered that seat H was an aisle seat in the middle row of the plane, while slightly miffed, my anxiety – which was real – soon abandoned ship when I heard a voice on the intercom exclaim that boarding was complete and, guess what, there were rows of empty seats. Without wasting any time I jumped up and made myself comfortable in seat 38K and then set about checking out the music offering on the flight. While it goes without saying that there wasn't that much of what I would call 'good stuff' I did find Money for Nothing by Dire Straits, the only song of theirs that I like, and listening only to the opening bars of the track, which are something else, but the rest of the song (once it gets going) I can live without. I found Rock & Roll Star by Oasis, which somehow had lost its zing, and that was about it so I abandoned music for my book, The Big Midweek by Steve Hanley, a biography about 'life inside The Fall. At about this time I realised, once again, that I should have pulled out all the stops in my younger years and developed a career for myself as a rock star. Still, I guess I have the next best thing: flying all over the world and living (in a sense) the rock and roll lifestyle, even if I have made a conscious decision – that I've kept to for the last five years – to stop drinking and being an imbecile.
Yours truly about to board the night train... |
And here I am, sitting in my cabin, it's almost 2200hrs and its dark outside (just like it is in the UK at this time of night). We've just stopped at a place called Hameelinna and will hurtle on through the night until we reach Rovaneimi first thing in the morning. I can't say I really want to get off the train, but I have to because there's work to be done and, ultimately, that's why I'm here. Left to my own devices I'd stay on to the end of the line, which is miles inside the Arctic Circle, mooch around for a bit and then take the train home again.
Let me tell you about my sleeping quarters. There's a bunk bed and I've chosen to sleep on the bottom. I'm not sharing with anyone and that means I can sit here by the window, peeking out occasionally when the train passes civilization. Right now it's pitch black and there doesn't appear to be anything out there, just fields. There are no lights, nothing, no sign of a road marked out by street lights, nothing at all to reassure me that I'm not in outer space. As I write this, the train is slowing but it's still pitch black and there's nothing to see.
It is a bit cramped, however, but it's not a problem. The bathroom has a hinged wall that pulls back to reveal a shower, but I'm wondering if there will be any hot water. Something tells me there won't be, but who knows? I might be pleasantly surprised. I can see lights up ahead, but over in the distance, I see a road with a solitary car on it as we whoosh through a small and deserted station. In a flash we pass what I'm guessing is a small village and now, within seconds, everything is pitch black again.
The night train arrives in Rovaneimi... |
The temperature in Helsinki was around 10 degrees, but there was a bitter wind as we made our way to the central station, pulling our suitcases behind us; and I'm told that as we travel further north, it will get colder. As I flew into the Finnish capital earlier I noticed frozen lakes and snow dotted here and there and I'm told that the winter has kind of just ended and that, from now on, the days will get longer and longer until we reach the summer months of June and July when there will be 12 hours of daylight. Just imagine that. Likewise, in the winter there are 12 hours of darkness.
Inside my cabin on the train... |
We departed Helsinki at 1929 and are scheduled to arrive in Rovaneimi around 0725. After a brief visit to the train's crowded restaurant car (for a fruit tea and a pastry, not forgetting a bar of Karl Fazer chocolate) I returned to my cabin and set the alarm on my iphone for 0600 and 0630 just in case I oversleep on the first alarm, you never know. I might get such a relaxing night's sleep that I miss the alarm and end up God knows where, but I'm sure that won't happen.
Civilization has appeared again, bigger than past offerings: there are street lights and houses and stuff but it's soon gone, in the space of a few words, no, hold on, it's back again, and now it's gone. I wonder if there are any bears out – there are bears, wolves, moose and wolverines I am later told – and I feel pretty glad that I'm on the train and not out there in the cold and dark trying to find somewhere to pitch a tent. Streetlights resemble distant stars, but once again there are houses out there too, roads and snow here and there. We're passing through a fairly built up area with housing and light industrial buildings, but it's too dark to know for sure what else is out there. Now it's back to the odd street light, dark forests and open fields, none of which I can see too well because it's as good as pitch black.
Everywhere there is snow stacked up... |
It's pitch black out there again now, but no, hold on, we're slowing down and there are more deserted roads and patches of snow, streetlights and the odd house. I can see one solitary star in the sky, which appears to be guiding (or guarding) the train. I feel in safe hands, put it that way. The train is slowing, but that doesn't mean it's going to stop, let's see what happens. Civilization ain't far, put it that way and the train is still slowing down.
I've just had the fright of my life. My suitcase, which is on casters, has just rolled towards me and at speed, like a wild animal pouncing. It's now rolled back the other way and, no doubt, it'll roll back towards me at any moment. Before I hit the sack I'll have to upend my suitcase to stop it from moving around. The train is still slowing down but it's pitch black outside and there's no sign of an approaching station. But now the big town is back, a huge town to be fair, industrial buildings, car parks, office buildings with stuff written on them, like 'pixact', another with the word 'Koja' written in illuminated letters on the walls. Surely, a station must be coming up soon. AutoRentti, Scandia Rent, a garage, a Skoda building, Renault, this must be a city of some sort. Metso Outotec, now I know them! Tevo Lokomo, a car park with two cars in it, a building with the word Nokia on the side of it, Integrio; I've noticed that a lot of Finnish buildings are peppered with illuminated brand names. Wherever we are it looks interesting and it's certainly a big city. I can see a Scandic hotel, we're in Tammerfors or Tampere Tammerfors. The station is not deserted. There are passengers waiting to board the train. We've stopped and we're right opposite a Holiday Inn. I'm guessing there are people asleep inside and it makes me feel tired. I can see men wearing high viz clothing, clearly a night shift of sorts. Three of them, chatting, make that four. We're on platform 3. This must be a pretty big city as there's a Stockmann store across from the station. Stockmann is an upmarket department store, Finland's answer to Harrods or Peter Jones. The workmen are moving up the platform and below me a I see a man with a rucksack board the train followed by a young couple. Remember, this is a long train, a very long train, and this could even be the stop where they add a number of carriages carrying motor vehicles. People often put their cars on the train and then travel north on holiday in the summer months when, I am told, the sea and the lakes are warm enough for swimming. Not now, though. The lakes are still frozen solid.
We've been here at Tampere Tammerfors for some time now. A smaller local train arrives on platform two, it's short and green and brightly lit but in a flash it's gone. Somebody else has just boarded the train and I think they were carrying skis. Presumably there's still a lot of snow up north, which is not hard to imagine. We are heading towards the Arctic Circle after all.
A Holiday Inn at Tampere Tammerfors railway station... |
I can't work out what the workmen on platform 1 are doing, but it has something to do with a goods train of sorts that has just departed from a siding. Whatever they were up to, it's finished and they are gone. Perhaps now is the time to clean my teeth and hit the sack. But hold on, a locomotive is shunting a huge train and has just come to a halt on platform 1, it might have something to do with the three workmen, but I haven't a clue if I'm right or wrong, probably the latter.
The cabin comes equipped with a free bottle of mineral water and some very small and flimsy towels. I'm guessing they're not expecting people to take a shower. As I'm the only one in the cabin I get two bottles of water for my consumption and two sets of towels, but listen to me, I'm rambling. I need to go to bed and I think our stop at Tampere Tammerfors is a good reason to make my excuses and hit the sack.
I start to have a conversation with myself. Not out loud, but in my head.
"Go to bed!"
"Alright, then."
I was lying in bed and looking forward to the night ahead. At 2306 the train departed Tampere Tammerfors station and from then onwards I enjoyed the luxury of being gently cajoled into slumber by the motion of the train. I enjoyed a lovely sleep, punctuated by moments of semi-consciousness when I was aware of the speed of the train. I could feel it when the train pitched to port or starboard and was aware of the speed at which we were travelling, which, at times, seemed very fast.
Downtown Rovaneimi on Friday night...nobody around |
I awoke early and could see that it was light outside the window. It was 0507 and like a child at Christmas time I wanted to get up and see what presents awaited me. Outside the window were pine forests and snow as the train travelled through what could be described as a winter wonderland. There was nothing out there but pines and snow, deeper than I've ever seen it in the UK. Here and there a small house like something out of a children's storybook, small collections of cottages with Christmas lights, frozen rivers – and I mean frozen rivers, solid enough to walk on.
The sky above me was blue – or becoming blue. Not a cloud in the sky, but let's not deceive ourselves, it's not warm out there, far from it. There were Christmas trees everywhere and then huge expanses of frozen water, lakes and rivers, it didn't matter, followed by more Christmas trees. In addition to the festive pines there were silver birches, thin stalks of trees with no leaves. It would have been surreal had somebody decorated just one of the trees with flashing lights and baubles (or bobbles as we call them in my house). The forests were thick and dark and, of course, I imagined what it might have been like camping out there in the cold, which made it all the more cosy in my cabin with its under-floor heating. Again, I thought of the wild animals, who were keeping themselves well-hidden. I could stare at such scenery forever and a day: the white snow, the contrasting deep green of the pines, the emptiness, the beauty and in a strange way, the 'warmth' of it all. Up here there was no need to think about governments and politics and normal living, even if we weren't a million miles from the Russian border. Knowing that Finland now enjoys NATO membership was comforting, but all that rubbish and the thought of what the Sleaford Mods describe as 'UK Grim' are far behind me. Looking out on what is basically a living, breathing Christmas card there's no need to think about anything bad. The snow is like icing from one of my mum's Christmas cakes. Occasionally I spotted prints in the snow and wondered if they belonged to humans or animals. It's hard to believe that the snow would ever disappear, but in the summer months it thaws and all that remains are the pines in all their glory. I'm travelling through a snow dome that nobody has picked up or given a good shake. It would be wrong to describe the scene as monotonous because while it is nothing but pines and snow, it's beautiful. A motorway and a few houses appear, dotted here and there, and then we're plunged back into the forests with its pines and silver birches. And then I spot wind power, three white towers rising high above the pines, no, more than three, but the others are too far away to count for sure.
Perpetual Christmas in Rovaneimi, Finland |
It's almost 0600hrs, 0552 to be precise, it's brighter now and somewhere there's a winter sun casting its beam on the pines, turning them a fiery, burnt orange. No wonder the Finnish people are the happiest in the world, I think to myself. It's a shame to have to consider leaving my seat by the window, but I need to check out the facilities, see if there's any hot water, check out whether the shower actually works. A small village appears, a road sign that I can't read and in the distance two large buildings bathed in sunlight. We go under a road bridge, there's a gas station, Teboil and now we're somewhere fairly big, I spot a man standing by a building, there are more sun-tinged buildings, we're at Kemi, a mining town, platform 2, and people are boarding, I hear the doors sliding open and then closing. Oh to get out and wander about, find a hotel, mooch around, drink some tea and do nothing. I see flats and question the need for balconies, although I suppose they're fine in the summer. The train is on the move again, it's slowly edging out of the station, which isn't really a station at all, there's no platform on my side, just piles of snow and yet there are still signs for platform 2 as we gently pick up the pace and leave Kemi behind us. I'm guessing that soon enough the pine forests will return. For now, though, another gas station, a block of flats, houses, a sign for Kivviko and for Marrtala, a grey and winding road, a lorry carrying logs, a bunch of small wooden houses and slowly the return of the forests.
Still light at 21.30 on Friday night... |
There's 25 minutes until we arrive in Rovaneimi. Outside the scenery remains the same but the sky is blue and the sun is out. My journey is nearing its end and soon I will reluctantly leave the train and continue my trip by car. I'm heading for a place called Tornio, which is some two hours away, but I am sure there will be more forests and more snow.
It's now Friday evening, 2243hrs to be precise and I'm staying at the Santa Claus hotel in Rovaneimi having spent most of the day in Tornio and it's a very pleasant hotel. The room is perfect and I'm looking forward to an early night. Just had dinner in Rosso, you can see it in one of the photographs above; it was a nice restaurant with a friendly waitress, I ordered pesto chicken and a decent no-alcohol beer, well, two of them, and rounded it off with a cappuccino, which was probably ill-advised, but I won't know about that until I try to get to sleep*. I'd imagine that I won't sleep as well as I did last night on the train from Helsinki – will I ever sleep as well again? – but right now I might watch some television, I've got a book to read and I'm feeling good and it's all to do with everything: the smooth flight, the amazing train journey and now the fact that I can chill, my work is done. The original plan had been to fly home tomorrow (Saturday 15 April) but because the only way I could return tomorrow was by flying business class for around £1,100 for a one-way trip with British Airways, it worked out cheaper to stay another night in Helsinki and fly back on Sunday evening. I won't get home until around 1700. It's annoying but there's not much I can do about it. I plan to mooch around Helsinki, drink coffee, read my book and generally take life easy. Right now, I'm signing off.
* It's 0428 and I'm awake and on the laptop, I've been lying there looking at the ceiling since 0324.
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Map of Finland |
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