It's Christmas every day in Rovaneimi...

I've been to Finland three times now. The first time was in February 2020, just before lockdown, the second time I flew there just for dinner in August 2022 and now I'm back again in April 2023. One thing has characterised all three trips: every hotel I have been booked in to has given me a room right at the very end of a corridor. Every hotel. Back in February 2020 at the Scandic Simonkentta, I think I was in room 602, I can't remember exactly, but it was right at the very end of a corridor on the right. It was the same with the second visit, when I stayed in the Scandic Paasi, and at the Santa Claus Hotel in Rovaneimi (room 560) AND yesterday (Saturday 15April) at the Indigo Hotel (room 411). Once again, I'm at the end of the corridor, this time on the left hand side. The only difference about the Indigo Hotel, from where I am writing this blog, is that the doors open inwards. Everywhere else, in fact, everywhere else, not just the hotels, doors open outwards to make it easier for people to escape their rooms if they need to kick the doors down to escape, say, a fire. Why the Indigo bucked the trend, I don't know.

Santa Claus Hotel, Rovaneimi

I flew from Rovaneimi at just gone 1400hrs. It was a very pleasant flight. The skies were clear and cloudless and below me I could see the barren landscape of Finland with it's frozen lakes and rivers and all I could think about was that I rode the night train to Rovaneimi and that all of that was below me; what took me all night will be over in an hour and all we got for free from Finnair was a small cup of blueberry juice. Not that I'm complaining. Finnair has been brilliant and it was only a one-hour, 10-minute flight. I was sitting in seat 1a with plenty of leg room. It was a small plane with two rows of two seats and it was packed.

On reaching Helsinki I took the train into the city and then trundled my suitcase along cobbled streets (not ideal) to the Indigo Hotel on Bulevardi. The pleasant nature of this hotel was revealed immediately with an efficient check-in, the room (411) was good and I decided to get a walk in before dinner. I paced it out for 2.14 miles, following a straightforward but random route in the shape of a square and then, when I got back to the room I phoned home and then started to wonder about where to have dinner. A trendy pasta restaurant was suggested, but in all honesty I couldn't be bothered with 'trendy' so I stayed at the hotel's Bröd restaurant where I enjoyed gravlax followed by steak with pollenta chips and rounded off with a lime posset, which I could have done without because it was tasteless. But let's not criticise the hotel, it was fantastic. I sat there reading The Big Midweek – Life Inside the Fall by Steve Hanley in between eating and drinking. I ordered a bottle of sparkling Pellegrino and, not really wanting a no-alcohol Heineken, I opted for a non-alcoholic cider, and let's face it, non-alcoholic cider is apple juice, why not simply offer me an apple juice? Either way, it was a pleasant drink, much pleasanter than a Heineken 00.

It's Christmas all year round in Rovaneimi

I had a long chat with the waitress, so long I almost let my green tea go cold, and then I paid up and headed back to room 411. I messed around with the room lights and then sat and read my book until I felt tired enough to sleep, but then I awoke around 0304 and here I am writing. It's now 0509.

Daybreak, 0444 in Rovaneimi. This the view from my hotel window...

In Rovaneimi yesterday I realised that Santa Claus works full-time throughout the year. There's a Santa Claus theme park full of souvenir shops and a decent buffet restaurant, the Three Elves, and after a pleasant lunch we headed for the airport and the short flight to Helsinki. But I found it hard to believe that Santa is working in April, meeting people from all over the world and agreeing to have his photograph taken. I felt that I was too old to sit on his knee and so only managed a brief glimpse of the great man - who I thought lived in the street next to mine in the UK (clearly I am mistaken) - but I found that it's Christmas all-year round up there in the Arctic Circle, even my hotel, the aptly named Santa Claus Hotel, had Christmas trees on top of the entrance canopy. Elsewhere there were Christmas lights too. First thing in the morning in Rovaneimi it was minus six degrees. As the day progressed it warmed up a little to around plus 2 degrees and there were patches of ice around that needed to be avoided.

Hearty breakfast in Rovaneimi

Snow is everywhere. It features prominently in family photographs on Finnish iphones and can be seen banked up on the roadsides and in car parks, huge piles of the stuff blended with black/grey grit giving it the appearance of a skunk, like the cartoon character Pepé Le Pew. From the air the snow makes the ground below look like a choppy sea full of white horses crashing hither and thither, and on the roofs of houses there are chunks of the stuff, unsullied by grit, waiting to slide off and hit the ground – and we're talking two to three feet thick slabs of it.

Rovaneimi airport is tiny and there are very little in the way of flights on the departures board, just the Helsinki flight that I'm on and another one. Security was, again, a doddle, and soon we were boarding the flight. I was told as we sat drinking our tea and coffee, that a famous Finnish actress had just walked past us, but such information was alien to me as I don't know any famous Finnish actresses.

While it's warmer in Helsinki than in Rovaneimi, it's still cold and there was a bitter wind that prompted me to do up the buttons on my coat before continuing my journey on foot from the central station to the Indigo hotel, but it's getting warmer here and the Finnish people are looking forward to having barbecues in their back gardens even if they will have to don coats. While the sun is shining and the sky is blue, it's still brass monkey weather. According to my pal Ilkka, the barbecue season has already started. In Tornio yesterday evidence of the beginning of barbecue season was there for all to see in a Motonet store where shop assistants were stocking up with gas cylinders. Inside the shop – which was a huge, cavernous space on the edge of town – there was plenty of different styles of barbecue equipment ranging from the disposable to some pretty impressive pieces of kit that wouldn't look out of place in a modern kitchen. As for Motonet, it was one of those places where you could buy anything: knives, camping equipment, weather-proof clothing, DIY equipment, sweets, outdoor games, stuff for your car, anything at all.

Yours truly at the Arctic Circle...

One of the best things about Finland is Karl Fazer chocolates. I was pleased to note as I walked along Bulevardi that there was a Karl Fazer coffee shop and it was just across the street from my hotel. I went in for a coffee and a pistachio cake and sat there reading before heading back to the hotel to decide upon my dining arrangements. It opens at 1000 this morning, which gives me a little time to chill although I'm not really sure if I'll do that, despite telling the people behind the counter that I'd be back. Instead I might mosey on up to the shops, but then again, perhaps not as I can't really afford to buy anything from Finland's expensive stores, like Stockmann, although it's nice to have a look. Or is it? Perhaps I'll just get resentful and I don't what that as this trip has been full of positivity in so many ways.

It's 0539. Is it even worth going back to bed? I should do because I've a long day ahead of me and then it's work on Monday

I was told the hotel had a swimming pool. It doesn't, although I might be confusing it with another hotel in Canada, across the river from Detroit. Annoying when you consider that I packed a pair of trunks. But all things considered I wonder whether I would have taken the plunge had there been one, probably not. There's simply too much to do, like getting to the station to catch a train to the airport and then all the hassles of security and sitting around waiting for the flight home.

Another virtually empty airport in Finland, this one is Rovaneimi

When I woke up this morning at the ungodly hour of just gone 0300, I checked in online and I'm so glad that I remembered. I had another aisle seat at the back of the plane but now, to my sheer amazement, I'm sitting in seat 3A, which is quite unbelievable. I'm so pleased that I remembered as the flight is full according to the BA website and they're asking for volunteers to take another flight. All well and good, I thought, but the only reason I'm here in Finland on a Sunday – giving up my entire weekend – is because BA was only offering a business class seat on Saturday and that would have cost £1,100 so there was no way I was going to give up seat 1A to possibly find myself spending another night here in Helsinki. Why Finland is so popular at the moment I'm not sure, but all the flights appear to be full. On that extortionate business class seat, it's simply not worth it. Later, sitting in seat 3A I was directly behind the two rows of business class seats, separated by a curtain, and that seems to me to be a piss poor incentive to fork out over £1,000. Alright, so I had to suffer small paper cups of water from the plane's supplies as opposed to a bottle of mineral water, but so what? In fact, one small gripe: I pressed the service button on the panel above the seat and when the cabin crew member arrived I asked if I could buy a bottle of mineral water. Moments earlier I had seen her walk past with a trolley full of bottles of mineral water. "I'm sorry, these are for business class," she said snootily and then offered me some sub-standard tiny cups of water from the plane's tap. I'm so glad I didn't pay that £1,100 for a business class ticket. None of those bottles were given to any of the eight people sitting in rows one and two, and that's what I hate about capitalism and the snobbery that goes with it.

Frozen rivers from the air...

Earlier, having woken up at an ungodly hour, I went back to bed having set the alarm to wake me at 0700 and when it did I pressed the snooze button. I repeated the process until it was 0730 (because I was tired and didn't want to get up) and then jumped in the shower, cutting my foot on the door as I jumped out to find a towel. I made a make-shift bandage with some tissues, which are still there now, wedged between my toes, but there's no pain and it's not that bad.

Breakfast at the Indigo was okay, but not mind-blowing and while I've always said that a hotel stands or falls on the quality of its breakfast, the Indigo is different: it's the friendly staff that hold it together. The fresh fruit looked dry and everything else had that insignificant look about it. I chose scrambled egg, mushrooms, vegetables and small sausages, a plate of the dry-looking pineapple chunks, two miniature apple pies, a tiny pain au chocolate and a small Danish pastry and then later a small bowl of yoghurt, I think it was strawberry-flavoured, but you can never tell with yoghurt. I also had three mini chocolate HobNob style biscuits - and I mean mini, they were tiny - a glass of cranberry juice and an English breakfast tea. I sat there reading and then I went back to the room. 

I planned to nip out for a brief walk, wary, of course, that blue skies and sunshine in Finland don't always mean it's warm out there, it's not. I had a late check-out so my plan was to mooch around, possibly have a coffee, but it's easy to get carried away, especially as I'm reading Steve Hanley's The Big Midweek so perhaps I'll leave the book behind, get a brief walk out of the way and then come back to check out. I didn't bother with the walk in the end, but decided to walk to the central station rather than order a cab. I never order a cab unless absolutely necessary.

View from room 411, Indigo Hotel, Helsinki

Apart from cutting one of my toes in the shower, I'm generally feeling fine, but there's no time to chill out with a book. Despite the fact that I've been forced to stay in Helsinki for another night thanks to BA's greed, apart from dinner in the hotel, that's about all I get. After breakfast, time started to run out and I quickly realised that my plan to sit in a cafe reading was out of the question as I'd needed to get moving towards the central station to catch a train to the airport. I had the full two hours once I'd reached the airport. I found somewhere to eat and ordered a foccacia bread filled with cheese and ham and followed by a caramel cheese cake, not forgetting a cappuccino. Once finished I checked the announcements board and noticed that I needed to make my way to passport control. I wish that I'd known about this earlier as once through passport control there were more cafés and I realised that I could have sat in a Starbuck's closer to gate 40. In fact I was lucky that there hadn't been queues because I was under the impression, having already gone through security, that there was nothing more to do other than go to the gate, and that the next step was boarding the plane. How wrong was I! But there were no queues, this was Finland after all, and there's nobody around so all was well and soon I was boarding the plane. It was a pleasant flight of roughly two hours and twenty five minutes and I read a lot of my book whilst occasionally glancing out of the window at the hazy blue skies.

No trains! It wouldn't happen in Finland...

UK Grim

As we approached the UK, of course, the clouds gathered, but there was no turbulence. We landed safely and then the shite started to happen. Travelling by train from Helsinki airport to the centre of town cost 4.30 Euros (around £3.50) but in the UK, a one-way trip on the Heathrow Express into London set me back £25. What a rip-off. Then, once on the train, I was faced with a shuffling beggar and a nutter in a bright yellow tracksuit and then, to top things off, when I reached the concourse of Victoria station I noticed a sign saying 'no Southern trains' due to engineering work. I went back on the tube, headed for Blackfriars and then got a Thameslink train to East Croydon before jumping in a taxi home. Oh to be back in Finland, I thought to myself. All the trains run on time – and are state-owned – and the people are happy even if it is a little cold.

Heathrow baggage reclaim...a very long wait

Night train to Rovaneimi...

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...

The flight was very smooth and I arrived in Helsinki at 1515hrs and took the train to the central station where I met my pal Ilkka for dinner in a rooftop restaurant. The plan was simple: we were booked on the night train to Rovaneimi and I'm not going to hide the fact that I love it! You simply can't beat a long train journey and if you throw in an on-board cabin, well, what's not to like? 

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...

I've never felt so excited about going to bed. Alright, I have, but let's not go there. Suffice it to say that sleeping on a train is, for me, an exciting thing to do and I'm looking forward to hunkering down: the gentle rocking of the train as it edges further north, the only light coming from a solitary window, the world passing by outside... I'm so looking forward to switching off the light and just lying there on the bed listening to the noise of the train as it heads for the Arctic Circle.

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...

I'm too excited to read, I think I'll clean my teeth and then hit the sack. I could wait here to see 'what happens', ie if we stop somewhere, if people board the train, who knows what is going to happen? Not me. All I know is that I wish I could take the train back to Helsinki, but I can't, we're booked on a flight from Rovaneimi on Saturday afternoon. There's another town outside and I must say that the housing here in Finland is very cosy. Modern places most of them...we've just rushed through another station but again too fast to note the name of the place. It's another developed area, a town as opposed to a village, and I can just about make out a frozen lake followed by streetlights and deserted roads. Now there is some kind of industrial site with cars and vans parked outside and I'm amazed at the way the Finnish people don't appear to like drawing their curtains at night. That said, it might be something to do with the fact that crime, while not non-existent, is very low here. For a start there's only 5.5 million people living in Finland and they have a land mass far bigger than the UK's where there are almost 70 million people (and counting).

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

The train appears to be slowing but the Christmas card scenery continues. Another frozen river but we're in a small village or town with industrial buildings, not many, but a few and then they are gone and the forests return along with the wind towers, their slowly rotating blades adding to the surrealism of the scene. I would love to be up front in the cab of the locomotive pulling this very long train behind me, but I'll settle for my current predicament marvelling at the passing pines, the occasional chocolate box houses, the ghostly silver birch, the Christmas trees and, of course, the snow. How cosy it must be to sleep in these little houses. Everything is so still and quiet and deserted. 

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...

The shower was what I expected: small, cramped, luke warm and just a trickle of water, but it did the job, although I worried after soaping myself that I'd be unable to wash it all off. I managed and probably stayed in there for longer than I originally anticipated. The heated floor made it all very cozy. I dried myself and now I'm sitting here again looking out on the passing pines and birch trees, we're back in the snow dome and the sun is out and lighting up the tree tops.

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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