When the sun is setting, between dusk and darkness, there is a moment when the light turns blue. And the world stops for a heartbeat.
The main reason we moved to Finland four years ago – instead of choosing another ‘random’ country, as we had so many times before – was to let the girls grow up close to family. (One side of it, anyway)
It is paying off.
The next few weeks we’ll be at the summer cottage with ukki, mummi, Noora, Lassi and Masi.
The girls could not be happier.
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.
Start of the summer holiday.
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.
It has been the first summer that Alanna and Kiara haven’t spent in kindergarten. Despite a few camps and some time at the summer cottage, six weeks of holiday while Stuart and I are still working is a long time to kill.
The girls aren’t, strictly speaking, home alone. Stuart and I have both been working remotely. But they are in charge of their own snacks, lunch and – most importantly – their entertainment. And many of their frieds are out of town.
So whenever we can, we go somewhere. Even if it’s just a dinner and a short walk in Inkoo.
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.
“Go shopping by bike,” they said. “It’s so much more fun,” they said.
In all honesty, 94% of the time, it is.
Alanna started a week-long Animal Camp today so I got to spend a whole day with Kiara, just the two of us.
It is true that twins rarely get enough individual attention. We try, but…
Many parents of singletons admire how nice it is that the girls always have someone to play with – a home-bestie, as the girls call it. But it is also obvious how excited they are when they get äiti all to themselves. And I keep admiring how easy it is when you just have one wish to fulfill at any given time.
We had a good day: we sewed, did the groceries, read, and before picking Alanna from her museum farm camp, we popped into an old tavern (now a coffee shop) with a beautifully preserved courtyard and garden.
Just the two of us.
There is a fine line between creating a magical childhood and ensuring your children know what is real.
For example, how do you explain that dinosaurs were real, but dragons are not? That blue whales and giraffes exist, but unicorns are imaginary? That bats are real, but vampires are not.
We have spent time explaining that bears can sleep the whole winter, that caterpillars can dissolve into soup and emerge as butterflies, that geese can navigate across continents, and that some lizards can grow back their tails.
But humans can’t learn to fly.
Blue Moment 