The Football World Cup ended yesterday, with Spain beating Argentina – and with a clear difference in the quality of play if not in the score.
We followed the tournament more closely than we expected, considering it was held in North America. The time difference made many of the matches impractical to watch. Yet, we managed one almost daily.
After eight weeks invested in the Cup, we wanted to watch the final too. It kicked off at 10pm. When it went to extra time just after midnight, we started to get nervous. It ended at 1am.
The alarm went off at 4am.
The 5 am bus was the last one that took bicycles and still got us to Helsinki in time to pick up the girls from camp
The clouds were heavy today, but there was (almost) no rain. The occassional drizzle – so light that the wind dried us faster than the rain got us wet – doesn’t count.
A win in my books.
The route from Loviisa to Kotka was mostly on paved roads, rather than the forest tracks and gravel roads we usually look for. In fact, we occassionally end up in paths more suited to game tracks in our determination to avoid bigger roads. Only once have we been forced to backtrack for more than a kilometer or so.
We’ve been lost at least twice.
Still, there were several interesting stops: the Loviisa fortress ruins, Strömfors Iron Works, the Savukoski Museum Bridge and the Tsar’s Fishing Lodge. What supprised us the most was finding a quite large and lovingly nurtured English Garden in the middle of absolutely nowhere (Erja’s Garden).
Finally, a note to self: Sunday evening is not the right time to find great restaurants in Kotka.
A few days before the weekend, the forecast was still predicting massive rainfall – as much rain in two days as we normally get in the whole of July. With that in mind, partly cloudy Saturday felt like a win.
The cycle path from Porvoo to Loviisa meanderered through fields and forests. A few small villages and the occassional grand manor house dotted the route.
Stuart and I have developed a tradition of betting on which animal we see first on our cycling trips (cats, dogs and birds don’t count). I played it safe and put my money on a cow. Stuart guessed a horse. He won – although technically that was only the second one. The first animal we saw was a donkey. Maybe I should have known.
We did not see a single cow during the entire trip. Not one.
Loviisa is another lovely seaside town with a wooden old town and very popular harbor district with cafes and restaurants. Fortunately, the rain gave us a good excuse to call it a night early.
The girls, carrying their enormous rucksacks, hopped on a bus and headed to Väiski, a scout camp in Parainen forests with 1,800 kids. Stuart and I seized the opportunity, jumped on our bikes and headed for Porvoo. The plan is to cycle to Kotka over the weekend (about 130km in total).
We have cycled from Espoo to Porvoo before, and the route is not particularily interesting. So this time, we decided to take the J.L Runeberg, a museum ship that sails from Helsinki to Porvoo. Great weather, pleasant sailing, cool ship… but too many people.
Porvoo itself, is a picturesque little town with a cobbled old town, good restaurants, quaint shops and a few decent museums, including the old home of Finland’s national poet, Runeberg.
And luckily Porvoo is worth spending a little time in. Our hotel, approx 25 km away, was in the middle of nowhere, with not even a restaurant nearby. Therefore, timing dinner at the last restaurant on the way required a bit of a planning.
The last few kilometers, with the sun setting on our backs, were beautiful.
By the time we opened the last beers on the hotel garden, it felt like holiday.
Last summer Alanna and Kiara got excited about skateboards. Stuart and I, on the other hand, have absolutely no understanding of the fine art of skateboarding. We didn’t even know where to start.
The City of Espoo has been running a great initiative called Skateboard Containers, where more experienced skateboarders offer advice to younger or less experienced kids. The girls were bit young, but we took them to one of the containers in Matinkylä.
Rarely have I been as impressed by a city initiative. Two 14-year-old boys took the girls under their wing and patiently taught them for nearly two hours – held their hands coming down, gave advice and encouragement. The spark those boys lit in my girls lasted the whole summer.
This year we’ve had very little time to go practice and many of those skills have gotten rusty. But the excitement is still there.
Now I just need to find them a skateboarding course. As great as the container is, it can only take us so far.
Finland has an endless amount of small local museums – old farmsteads, workers’ quarters, historic homes, and museums devoted to wonderfully specific things like pharmacies, tar, logging or handicrafts.
Alanna’ animal camp was even held at one of them: Glims Farmstead Museum. And she was fascinated by its temporary exhibition on the importance of animal poo.
I often joke with Stuart about these little museums, as I have dragged him to probably fifty of them over the years. They may be somewhat “homespun,” but secretly (and maybe not that secretly) I really love them.
Every one of them exists because someone was passionate enough to preserve a small piece of history.
He passed away back in January, but we wanted to bury him at the summer cottage, the place he loved more than any other in the world.
Merlin came to our family a little over 10 years ago. He was an intelligent and curious little pup who simply could not fanthom that anyone would not love him as much as he loved them. There was nothing he loved more than being included in… everything.
He was especially certain that all hadedas (type of ibis) thoroughly enjoyed the one-sided game of tag he invented. (Except for the one that decided to chase him back).
Merlin was very obedient, calm and caring. Nowhere was it more evident than in the way he cared his two “sisters”, when they arrived. He kept bringing his favourite puppy toy to the babies, although he clearly found it rather strange that they did not play with it for months.
As they grew, he remained endlessly patient, no matter how loud, rough, or devious they became – even when they stole his food. For his entire life, he kept an eye on them. It caused him great concern whenever they disappeared from sight on walks (for example, to kindergarten or school).
The move from South Africa turned his life upside down, but in Finland Merlin discovered his inner husky. Rain or darkness no longer bothered him. And he absolutely loved snow. And forests. Most of all, though, he loved the summer cottage.
Merlin was a very special little dog. Six months after his passing, we still unconciously reach out for him every day. We miss him tremendously!
Alanna suggested that we light a candle to Merlin every year on his birthday. She said he was such a brave dog that his soul was half fire. So through the candle, he will hear us singing Happy Birthday to him.
There are many truths about how warm a lake needs to be before it is warm enough for a swim.
Stuart, being South African, thinks 28-30°C sounds about right. Or 25°C with a sauna. For a Finn, that is pure folly.
I am happy with 20°C and 18°C respectfully. But then again, I do not particularly like cold water (for a Finn).
Alanna prefers warmer water too, but anything above 10°C is fine as long as it only comes up to her knees and there is a sandy patch to play in. Swimming requires 18°C or a good reason. And whether something counts as a good enough reason depends entirely on her mood. This spring, she went gor a swim when the sea was barely 13°C.
Kiara doesn’t care. As long as there is no ice on it, it looks good. Above 15 °C, she will happily swim around until she turns blue (and mummi tells her to come out).
In case you were wondering, the lake was close to 20°C.
The nearest “beach” to us is just a quick hop away. It’s a secluded little strech of sand, and you can’t get there with a car. Consequently, it is often pretty quiet.
With the weather being great, we went for a picnic on a whim. We grabbed whatever we fancied from a store and cycled to the “beach” for a few hours of games, snacks and scenery. The girls even waded to the water, but it was still way too cold for a swim.
The last day of first grade: report cards received, flowers given to teachers. We all even survived singing Suvivirsi (you need to be a Finn to understand that).
Done.
Ten weeks of summer holiday deserve a celebratory pastry.
Blue Moment 