Sunday, August 11

We tested out the sauna in the house. It was fine as these things go. Toasty. The whole set-up was pretty good with the sauna room beside the shower room and a little view from the tiny window of the sauna to the trees outside. I felt like a Finn getting back in touch with nature except that I had to leave once the temperature hit 80 degrees. The rest of the family pronounced the sauna experience tolerable also and we did do it a couple of times but maybe you have to be born to it to really appreciate the sauna experience.

Mr. Waffle and I took a stroll down to the Baltic where we met a mother and son who were swimming away. “Is it cold?” I asked. “Not if you swim every day,” said the mother. “Do you even swim in winter?” I asked. “No, not when it’s frozen,” she said. Fine, right, ok, good point. Apparently there was no snow last winter and it meant that the surface of the ice on the water was so smooth that you could skate from the inlet right out to the open sea and play ice hockey all winter long.

We went and had a look at the local church which reminded me a bit of some of the churches we saw in Denmark last year. A nice woman inside told us that the village where we were staying (Rymättylä – very rural) used to be a stop on the route from Stockholm to St. Petersburg and monied travellers paid for the church. Very nice too with an appealing graveyard as well.

We went into Turku for mass that evening. It was in English. The catholic population of Finland is small and mostly migrant although, I noticed that the celebrant seemed to be Finnish. Apparently all of Finland is one diocese so catholicism is a bit of a minority sport. This led to a long mass which always seems to be the way when catholics are a minority.

We had wandered around Turku before mass and been a bit underwhelmed. It was drizzly and cold and everything was closed. We decided to go for pizza after mass and found a pizzeria which closed at 7 – it was then 6.55. Why, why would you close your pizzeria at 7? A nice random Finnish man took pity on us and directed us towards a local pizza chain. It was the most depressing experience. The place was horrible and the pizza was dear and bad. I ordered the pizza Berlusconi with reindeer meat. It was developed in response to Berlusconi’s comments about Finnish food. If you ask me, it’s not exactly a riposte.

We shook the dust of Turku from our feet and went home. We had the comfort of beautiful views as we made our way back to our island home.

Monday August 12

Inspired by the hardy Finns, we went swimming in the Baltic. Poor Michael found it just too cold and Daniel slid in very slowly from rocks on the edge of the water but it was quite enjoyable and we got to have a sauna afterwards like real Finns.

Scarred by our trip to Turku we decided to have a mild outing to Naantali about 20 minutes away. It’s a seaside town where the Finnish president has his holiday home. And seriously, why wouldn’t he? It was the most charming little place and I was utterly entranced. Sadly, herself was feeling a bit tired and stayed back at the house and although Mr. Waffle and the boys tried to enter into my enthusiasm, I could tell that their hearts weren’t in it. I loved every aspect of it, from the marina to the cute wooden house lined streets, the adorable shops sellling (holy mother of God expensive) tourist tat and the lovely church.

After the wild excitements of Naantali we had a quiet evening at home playing some of the many board games Michael had brought along with a steely determination to spend time with his family playing them.

Tuesday, August 13

We all took a morning dip in the Baltic. I can recommend this.

We had considered going to Turku that afternoon but I was still a bit scarred after our Sunday experience so we went back to Naantali instead. It was still charming but, I have to concede, it is small and I am not sure that its charms really warranted a second day. Herself was charmed though and we did get inside the church and the local museum.

Some of the churches had little miniature ships hanging from the ceiling. On inquiry as to why, I was told that there is a lot of fishing in Finland. I don’t know. I’m not entirely convinced.

I always have a soft spot for a local museum and this one was appealing in a mild way as it was an old house done up as it would have been 100 years ago. The exhibition of wallpaper through the ages was hard going though, even for me.

For dinner that evening, Mr. Waffle succeeded in making Yorkshire pudding and it would be fair to say that this was something of a highlight for the boys.

Wednesday, August 14

We had a quiet day at home as I put some serious effort in trying to get through a mountain of back issues of the London Review of Books which had been piling up in the hall for a good six months due to pressure of other business. I took them all on holidays and swore they would not come home. I’m not sure that they are designed to be read in quite this way but never mind.

We had a swim in the Baltic and later herself and myself went to look at a local junk shop. It was surrounded by houses getting rid of things (Kirppis – in case you need to know). The kind of stuff that sits in attics for years. But the cost! When I saw the IKEA festive biscuit tin on sale for €7, I knew that there would be absolutely nothing I would consider buying. Herself invested heavily in copy of Jaana 1975 which featured a story on the new Miss World who was previously Miss Finland at ludicrous expense. The vendor was able to tell us about Miss Finland’s grandchildren so she’s clearly still a big figure locally.

I said to herself that we might as well have a look at the church since it was nearby and she observed, “Oh I see, it’s like the trains at the station, one train can conceal another.” Anyhow, she was spared as the church was closed.

Myself and Mr. Waffle went for a walk leaving the children to their own devices which was quite pleasant for all parties.

Thursday, August 15

I couldn’t help pointing out to the children that in Italy this is Ferragosto, the height of the summer holidays but in Finland the children were back to school and the countryside felt quite autumnal. This insight was greeted with indifference and we went for a last swim before packing up and heading for Helsinki.

On our way to Helsinki, we stopped in Turku for a couple of hours. Oh regret. Although Turku on Sunday night had been utterly miserable, we had sadly misjudged it. It was lovely; we walked along the riverbank. We had a really good lunch in the centre and there was loads to see. I wished fervently we had gone back earlier.

We all went on a compulsory trip to the cathedral.

There was a thing signed by Mannerheim. I cannot believe I had never heard of Mannerheim before visiting Finland. I feel very ignorant. He’s big in Finland.

After this, we split forces. Herself was really keen to go to the modern art museum and the rest of us wanted to go to the castle (ok, the boys didn’t want to but they definitely wanted to more than they wanted to go to the modern art museum). I felt a bit daring setting her off to find the museum using Google maps on my phone but Mr. Waffle pointed out that she had been around Paris on her own and she was probably alright in a small university city in Finland. Fine. She was fine. We went to the castle of which I have no pictures (did it even happen then?) as herself had my phone. Mr. Waffle took a couple but it’s just not the same. We galloped around the castle a bit as Mr. Waffle began to worry that we would be late for my friend in Helsinki. “She’s known me all my life,” I reassured him, “she will expect me to be late.” He was not comforted.

We collected herself from the museum where she had a great time after some initial difficulties gaining entry due to not fitting readily into any of their categories of visitors (too old for a child; no card for a student; too young for an adult and unaccompanied by a family). Herself announced that she lay awake in bed last night wondering who was in charge in Algeria and that this is the kind of thing she had been suffering from since the loss of her phone. What to say. We sped on to Helsinki. I texted my friend that we might be late. She was delightfully unconcerned. I noticed that St Petersburg was signposted which was a bit weird but not for the Finns, I suppose.

We arrived safely in Helsinki and our hosts were ready for us with dinner and lots of beds which were both very welcome. One of them gave up a bed for us which was particularly virtuous but he and his father were leaving for Dublin in the morning so they assured us their sacrifice would be short-lived. It was noble all the same.

Part 3 detailing our Helsinki stay is coming. Stay tuned for further Finnish excitement.

Wednesday, August 7

We booked flights on a Wednesday because they were cheaper. I was a bit displeased as I would have liked to be away slightly longer but on balance, we decided it was worth it.

We entered into complex arrangements with our neighbours in relation to feeding their hens and our cat. I always feel slightly upstaged by their ambitious holidays However, after the year when they climbed Kilimanjaro, I felt that they could hardly do better. “Where are you going this year?” I asked. “The Galapagos and Easter Island.”

I digress, our flight was at 9.25 in the morning which wasn’t too bad. We were a small bit late leaving home due to a fruitless search for the Brett Easton Ellis book herself was reading which was nowhere to be found. Then we missed the turn off for the long term car park – another 10 minutes gone; then the bus to the airport took ages to come. The upshot of it was 9.50 before we got to the airport and check-in was closed. I had a look at the hard-hearted Ryanair woman behind the desk and decided that resorting to tears would be utterly useless. In fairness, we’d probably not have made it to the gate in time at that stage. Alas and indeed alack. Mr. Waffle was heroic. Though grumpy when made to be late by his family now that the hour had actually come and our combined indifference to his punctuality concerns had made us miss the wretched flight, he was pretty zen and booked and paid for another flight that evening with unimpaired amiability (so much for economical Wednesday flights). I was filled with guilt. My friend in Helsinki sent me this and I could not but concede that it was apt:

Herself in correspondence with her friend told her about the missed flight and her friend said, “I didn’t know that happened to real people.” Fair. Although I am forced to point out that subsequently her friend’s father fell while refilling the car with petrol when they were on holidays in Norway and broke his hip. That doesn’t happen much to real people either, I can tell you. Friend was round yesterday and she says he is up and hobbling about and keen to spread a story that his injury was sustained climbing dramatic Norwegian mountains. After this exchange, the Princess’s phone died. I was pleased and quite surprised to see how well she managed without it for the next fortnight.

Our re-booked flight was for that evening so we took ourselves off to Malahide castle for a consolatory breakfast and the kids re-acquainted themselves with the playground where they had not been for several years. I bought a new anorak. It was actually surprisingly pleasant given the context.

Then we went home. Our cleaner had been hard at work on the house all morning and, cravenly, we hid in the car when we saw her leaving on her bike, too mortified to explain our idiocy to her. She already has a pretty low opinion of us already. We found that she had, as instructed, completely cleaned out the fridge. Alas.

We got in some food. We found Brett Easton Ellis misfiled with the school books and mid-afternoon we turned around and went back out to the airport allowing ample time to check in.

Of course, then, instead of arriving in Tallinn at lunch time, it was nearly 1 in the morning and we were all a bit tired and sorry for ourselves but we got there. It was some comfort that a taxi from the airport – for the five of us – only cost €13.40.

Thursday, 8 August

We woke up in Tallinn as planned. We stayed in a lovely Airbnb in the old city with the mandatory sauna – big feature in the Baltic, lads. The old town is very touristy and there weren’t really any shops other than ones selling souvenirs – amber, trolls, linen and knitwear are all big. And I imagine that, if you are from Tallinn you might not love the way that your old city centre has become essentially a tourist zone but we were tourists and we absolutely loved it. There were no cars in the city centre and it was small, clean (remarkably clean) and seemed very safe. We were able to let the children wander on their own which we all enjoyed.

My friend who lives in Helsinki and with whom we were to stay later in the holiday was actually in Tallinn with her family for a couple of days. They were familiar with the lie of the land and we met them for lunch which was very nice. Their accommodation featured a rat trap in the entrance hall with smelly corpses and, though my friend was stoic, I was quite glad that this was not a feature of our place as it might have tipped me over the edge.

We did mildly touristy things as we were in the city centre and it wasn’t very effortful.

Some of our number felt that the climb up to the Orthodox church wasn’t worth the effort but I liked it.

Definite highlight was having an afternoon snack of dumplings in a cafe in the square. Not your traditional afternoon snack but welcome all the same. Mr. Waffle has recreated them at home. Huge success.

I did not expect this at all but the food in Tallinn is excellent. Really good and cheap too. It was a Hanseatic league town (in the course of our visit, I frequently wished I had paid a bit more attention to a podcast on the Hanseatic league which I listened to earlier this year) and a cross-roads for trade and spices and even in Soviet times it was very popular for food with Russians and eastern Europeans. Who knew?

After dinner we sat up on our rooftop terrace and admired the view. Pretty good all round.

Friday, August 9

I gave herself my phone to investigate possible breakfast locations. Her own phone had broken and I was surprised and pleased by how well she managed for the next fortnight without a phone; although she was forced to read every book we’d brought with us and even finish “Catch 22” which she has been reading for months with no apparent enjoyment.

She came good and we went to a lovely place leaving her brothers behind in bed. The lure of a good cinnamon bun was insufficient to tempt them out. Their mistake. While herself went off for a wander in the market and her brothers stayed in bed, Mr. Waffle and I went on a tour of Reval (did you know that Tallinn was always Reval and only changed its name to Tallinn 100 years ago? There’s a whole world out there). The tour was pretty good – a bit gimmicky but interesting all the same. I wish I had prodded the boys out of bed as there was tons of audience participation which, Michael at least, would have loved.

After lunch at home we went to a hotel which apparently does a very good tour involving KGB spying equipment. I say apparently as we had failed to book and there were no tours we could get on until the following day when, alas, we were leaving. We went for a restorative cup of tea in a nice cafe which herself had unearthed in her internet researches and then decided to go to the museum of occupation instead. It was a half hour trek away under the merciless Estonian sun and we arrived red faced and exhausted. The museum was interesting enough in its own way. A lot of interactive stuff, including a mock up of a soviet era flat where you could look in all the cupboards and a VR headset which allowed you to furnish your flat from a relatively limited range of options.

Then back home to play board games with Michael who had brought several and was determined to get value for his efforts.

We went out for dinner in a lovely Italian restaurant by the city walls recommended by our friends. There was an Italian waiter and it was a relief to both of us to speak in Italian. He said his Estonian was only middling. I sympathise.

Saturday, August 10

We said goodbye to Tallinn with some regret. We would not at all have minded another couple of days there. As we were leaving I saw that the former KGB interrogation cells – now a museum – were across the road from our Airbnb. Possibly for the best to have missed that.

We took the ferry across to Helsinki. The ferry ride was pleasant and only took about 3 hours. The ferry was enormous and very similar to the ferry we used to get to France; the fact that the latter was a Baltic ferry before being purchased by Irish Ferries may explain that. Aside from the explosion of the open jar of jam which one of us had packed in our bags in Tallinn, the journey was uneventful.

We presented ourselves at Helsinki railway station to pick up our hired car. We weren’t in any rush but we should have been. We turned up at 4.29 and the woman behind the desk said, “We close at 4. We gave you until 4.30, if you hadn’t turned up we were going to lock up.” The Finns, telling it like it is. In fairness, we were very pleased to get into our car and herself opined for the first but not the last time on the holiday that the Finns had been unfairly maligned as being on the surly side.

We got a sat nav after our immensely positive experience with last year’s built in sat nav which Mr. Waffle absolutely loved and we had christened Sybil because, you know, it was good at prophecy, it sounded a bit like a Sybil and we’re notiony. The new sat nav was not good particularly on the way out of Helsinki. “Maybe we should christen it, to make it feel better, what might we call it?” “Unsybil,” said herself from the back.

We got safely to our island Airbnb south of Turku which itself is in the South of Finland. This part of Finland is very island rich. We have friends who live on the Ã…land islands which we thought were nearby and thought we might visit them. Spoiler alert, we did not, it’s a five hour ferry ride and ferries are irregular.

The house was across a small rural road from a lake but access was not easy as all access to the lake was via neighbours’ gardens and they didn’t seem to take to tourists tripping through.

The house was lovely with most of the bedrooms downstairs and a big room upstairs so that it felt like living in a tree house.

More soon. Hold on to your hats etc.