Rememberment, Chapter XXXI: On the Road

Mom's youngest sister Raija and her husband Reijo had a tradition of visiting Lapland every summer. They usually traveled by themselves while another of my aunts looked after us, but that summer they took their son Jukka and me with them. I guess we were now old enough to endure the long hours of sitting in the car.

Jukka was a year younger than me, but seemed more mature. He was a pretty serious boy who had inherited his father's composure; always acting very calm and collected and though he also sometimes teased me a bit, we mostly got along just fine. Our cats were also siblings: Miru and Miiru were their names (Miiru was ours) so other than being cousins, we had that going for us as well to bind us together.

The travel plan was pretty ambitious - we wouldn't just visit Lapland, but drive all the way north to Norway along the western border of Finland, and then all the way south along the eastern border before finally heading back home.

It seems a bit crazy to think about it now: They traveled with two kids, and instead of Google Maps, the only means of navigation were a road map and some tourist guides. Online booking was also something nobody had even dreamed of, so Reijo just drove on and looked for road signs that would point us towards a cabin village, hoping they had accommodation available for us.

He had a '70s car with no air conditioning. Jukka and I sat in the back, playing checkers on a magnetic board until there was an attraction to be seen, a gas station to have a break at or a cabin to stay the night in.

Kalajoki was our first stop to see its famous beach, have a swim and stay the night. For entertainment in the evening, all four of us played cards (our favourite game was Koira, or Napoleon's Dog as it's known in English) until it was time to go to sleep (it was the same thing every night for the whole trip, unless there was a TV in the cabin and something good was on. But those were rare exceptions).

In Kemi, we visited an old church called St. Michael's. The church was famous for the mummified body of its former vicar, Nikolaus Rungius. The legend is that he had told people that if his words were true, his body wouldn't rot after his death. And indeed it didn't.

This had some personal impact on me. Was this proof of an actual God's miracle? (Spoiler: No. The conditions under the floor of the church, where his coffin was placed originally, were just ideal for natural mummification).

After that we started heading further north. Soon the landscape started to showcase the trademarks of Lapland; trees became smaller, twisted and sparse, with the wavy sihouettes of the smoothed-out fells looming on the horizon. The magic that brought Raija and Reijo here every summer was all around us, but I wasn't impressed. I thought it was all pretty boring (and for the record, my opinion of Lapland hasn't changed a lot from that in 40 years).

But onwards we drove. Another cabin, another few rounds of Napoleon's Dog. Hours upon hours of sitting in the car. And finally we arrived in Norway. It was something else. I had never witnessed actual mountains before, and they certainly were a lot more impressive than the not-actual mountains of Lapland. It was summer, but somehow we were able to have a snowball fight at a peak near Tromso.

After our stay, we started our trip back to the Finnish side of the border, but not before dipping ourselves in an icy fjord. That was on my list of "things to do in Norway" even before we left.

For the rest of the trip, my memories have faded. I can still remember us visiting a place with the borders of Norway, Finland and the Soviet Union all met, but most of the time I was barely paying attention anymore. I was just bored out of my mind from sitting in a car.

Sodankylä, Kuusamo and Suomussalmi must have all been places we visited on the way back, but the only location I can still remember from the rest of our return trip was how cool it was to explore the Olavinlinna Castle. From there we headed to Tampere, and finally back home after that.

I was overjoyed to return home. Before that trip, I didn't even know how homesick one can get. I had also been missing Miiru the cat.

There was no one else home when I came back though. Mom was still at work, and Dad was probably at one of his church meetings. Miiru wasn't anywhere to be seen either.

After a while, Mom called from work to check if I had already returned. I was feeling happy to hear her voice, still feeling relieved and joyful to be home, and she was happy too that I had returned after such a long trip. And then she asked whether I had heard that Miiru had been hit by a car and killed.

Just like that, all the joy was gone. "No," I said, and then I started to cry. Mom tried to make me feel better, but failed. "I heard there will be new kittens soon in our neighbour, so we can have a new cat".

But we never got another one. Whenever the subject came up, I just said that I fail to see the point, since they'll always just end up dead by the side of the road. And that's where the discussion ended.