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 drive home from a holiday, especially with forecasted rain, is rarely fun.
But when it is, it is a lot of fun.
A morning walk (with a breakfast that, according to Kiara, is worth moving to Haapsalu for), a submerged limestone quarry, an abandoned prison, and a real submarine – a few worthwhile stops. And Stuart drove faster than the wind, as the rainclouds never quite reached us.
And at the end is home.
For good and bad.
On the drive to Haapsalu, we drove past a gorgeous ruin – I forced Stuart to turn around (in traffic) and go back. If there are ghosts, they would definitely live here! But we didn’t meet any. And we looked.
The girls, on the other hand, found their sense of whimsy in a museum/craft and playhouse based on illustrations by Ilon Wikland. I, especially, loved all the joyful images from Astrid Lindgren’s books. They took me straight back to my childhood. With rain pouring down, there was no-one else.
The magic uninterrupted.
Whenever you ask the girls what they liked the best, their standard answer is “everything”. Same today. After some considerable pressure, they concluded their favorite was climbing the lighthouse. And the weirdest playground they had ever visited.
Hiiumaa has great lighthouses. We only visited three – all seven would have felt like overkill. Climbing the Köpu one, with its incredibly steep stairs and windy platform, was, indeed, more adventurous than it sounds.
Stuart’s favourite was the series of abandoned WW2 and Cold War coastal bunkers and military posts in the middle of the forest. The underground bunkers and remaining structures, including a watchtower, were free to explore. One needed a flashlight, good shoes and a real spirit of adventure. They were creepy! And not just for the girls…
And the playground… The random collection of wooden structures, all built by one (sligtly obsessed) man, was quirky and the scale was impressive. Clearly it had been amazing – at some point. However, now they teetered between unkempt-but-charming and unkempt-and-not-safe. The girls had a blast, though, exploring every structure we allowed them into.
My favourite part was all the photos. And the coolest bus stop ever.
Ambling around Saaremaa gets you to some… interesting places.
Sörve Lighthouse and Peninsula were seriously majestic, albeit in a windy, rough and rustic way. But Sõrve Museum, with its three little “military, seafaring and natural history” buildings, was weird – in a good way. The themes were interpreted rather loosely, and included eg., material of Hitler and Occultism, and a wide selection of preserved bird feet.
And then there was the park with more than 300 stone sheep statues with strong political opinions. And the Viking playground. And the stone tree.
Kuressaare castle was cool, but quite ordinary castle… if you ignore the nun, the sceleton and the lions.
Washing rugs on the summer cottage pier was fun as a child. Mum would throw buckets of water on my feet as I scrubbed as hard as I could. I still love the smell of Mäntysuopa (pine soap).
As we cleaned the wendy house today, the girls tried the traditional method of cleaning a rug.
Their comment was a dry, “Clearly kids in the old days had a different way of having fun”. Apparently, it was hard work.
Alanna and Kiara both love stories about how people used to live in the old days. The concept of “the old days” is still quite fluid – anything from the 12th century to the year before they were born. Anything earlier than that is simply ‘a very, very long time ago’.
We have never explicitly tried to teach them history, although we do enjoy a good museum. But if they grow up understanding that ‘right’ ideas and ‘proper’ behavior change over time, maybe they will be less likely to dismiss new ideas and different ways of doing things.
But mostly they just find old toilets funny.
.
All images from Urajärvi Manor and its beautiful gardens.
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.
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.
I came across a strech of shore today with dozens of old rowing boats in various stages of disrepair.
I am have a hard time fathoming how places like this come into being. Who decides that this is the perfect spot to bring an old boat and let it rest for all eternity?
Sure, after the fifth boat, the place is probably known, at least locally. The first one may be pure coincidence.
But the second boat.
Where did that come from?
Finland has fantastic museums for kids. In fact, almost all museums here have something specifically for children to do.
Helsinki City Museum is a good example with a whole section of historical play areas. And the theater section has a puppet stage.
Great stories were born this day!
Blue Moment 