Northern exposure - Christmas in the festively frozen Helsinki

There is nothing quite like the crisp stillness of a morning in Helsinki, or the sound of ice sheets clinking against each other in the harbour as we ran past, or the sight of Stockholm archipelago with shimmering water, boats everywhere and stately houses. There is nothing like the quiet reflectiveness of the north.

We arrived in Helsinki later than hoped, but a short taxi and there were Annabel and Jaakko waiting for us - they took us into our beautiful warm apartment, converted from a factory, all stylish lines and ikea furniture and gave us glögi, the warm drink of spirits/juice/spices and whole almonds and currants that you drink and scoop out the almonds and spices, festive and warming.

Finnish Glögi
1/2 litre black currant juice
1 bottle red wine
1 stick of cinnamon
6-12 cloves
1 dl vodka (or koskenkorva)
Raisins
Blanched almonds

Mix the red wine in with juice and the spices. Heat, but do not let boil. Turn off the heat and add the vodka. Put some raisins and almonds in each cup and pour in the still hot Glögi.

Christmas eve dawned bright and clear - we went for a lovely jog around the island that Annabel and Jaakko live on. In the afternoon, at dusk (about 3pm) we met up and walked to the cemetery, where hundreds of people converged - in the dusk candles glimmered everywhere on the graves, marking a loved one. It was beautiful and moving. We saw many graves of famous Finns, with many candles, and a monument to those killed in war with many candles on it. We walked up a short hill to where a massive cross was surrounded by people and prayers and hymns were sung, incomprehensible and solemn. Then we found Jaakko's grandmother's grave and he lit a candle and placed it there. It was one of the most beautiful and moving sights I have seen.

Christmas day and we woke in the dark, and piled on our warm clothes and went for a run past the bays and cemetery, all quiet in the still morning. Then we hauled presents and food over to Annabel and Jaakko's place and had a wonderful day talking to family, relaxing, eating delicious Finnish food, drinking Glögi and watching the Hollowmen, a lovely bit of Australia. 

Annabel and Jaakko had made us the most beautiful gingerbread house - very traditional apart from the kangaroo on the front lawn!! Best of all we got to sit in front of a roaring fire, on the TV! complete with a burning log scented candle. Christmas Day had all the usual necessities - great food, lovely drink, fantastic company, with the added scenic benefits that come with the winter christmas. We took a post lunch walk down to the bay and around some of the island.

 It was beautiful in its winter starkness. It felt still and quiet, even though the path was bubbling with joggers, walkers, strollers and dogs. When we eventually rolled back across to our little apartment we were brimming with full stomachs and good cheer and contentment.
The highlight of the trip for Sean came on Boxing day when he got a boys trip to the Sauna, followed by an obligatory post-sauna trip to the pub.

This authentic Finnish experience was followed by a less authentic but fun Aussie night. We all went to see Baz's Australia and then finished off the evening in the Aussie Bar (which likes to boast that we are all descended from convicted sheep theives). Despite my policy of generally avoiding Australian alcohol overseas (gotta try the local stuff you know) we were delighted to have our first Coopers Ale since leaving home. There's nothing quite like its bottle-brewed goodness.

The rest of our magnificent time in Helsinki was taking in the Finish vibe in galleries, beautiful streetscapes and sculpture, and a great Finnish restaurant, and frozen picnic lunches eaten outdoors with frozen fingers.

And then came the sad morning that we had to leave - Annabel and Jaakko took us off to the ferry terminal for a trip to the Estonian medieval city Tallin.

Tallin was fantastic. Beautiful, charming, and lively but without crushing crowds of tourists. Jaakko accompanied us, his last trip had been before the breakdown of the Soviet Union. We pottered around the gorgeous town, visiting ancient churches and buildings, including the incredible Russian Orthodox church that looms over the town and positively sparkles when the sunlight reflects off the gold mosaics and paints. A highlight was having lunch in a medieval restuarants, that serves only food and drink that was available in medieval times (including honey ale), on crockery that was available at the time, and decorated with medieval sheilds and tapestries and swords. It sounds so tacky, but it was actually great. The ale was fantastic and novel, mine was a cinnamon ale and Jaakko's a strange herby one that was very interesting. The vegetarian selection was surprisingly good too, and surprisingly varied. The menu even suggested we could pay in rabbit skins, but I didn't try this one as I had left my rabbit skins in left luggage. We went with the very medieval eftpos machine instead.

We said sad goodbyes to Jaakko, and then it was onto another ferry, this one much larger, and bound for Stockholm. We settled into our little berth as the ferry moved slowly out into the night ...

Where the streets have no name - Derry and Belfast - NI part 2

We stayed in a gorgeous B&B in Derry with the essentials - homely twee bed spreads, a slightly eccentric host and a lovely German couple. By night and in the morning we explored Derry - a walled city that still seems to hold on dearly to it's siege history - the walls ringed with cannon, tales of the locking out of Catholic troops. On the drive back to Belfast we took the inland route and snow lay on all the hills and fields. When we got to Belfast we decided to walk up Cavehill - a large outcrop that looms over the city. The walk was beautiful, passing Belfast castle, then neolithic caves which had been carved into the side of the hill (hence the name) and stood on the summit in the icy wind and watched as a whole troop of people came past us playing a sort of chaotic golf with mallets over the mountain along a path of flags - we were almost hit by the hard flying balls a few times and were not surprised when at the end of the host of players there were five first aiders along!!

We descended a different way and got lost, finding ourselves separated from where we wanted to be by a large chasm - it was just like a rogaine! We worked our way around and eventually back to the car. Then down to Belfast proper - we ate our lunch in the botanic gardens and

explored - we had hoped to go to the museum but it was all boarded up, no signs, just very closed. We made our way to our hotel, an od converted large house, with an odd old chap who

argued with us over the price that had been agreed but then seemed happy enough, the house was all musty rugs and creaking staircases. We dropped our bags and jumped into the black cab

waiting for us, this was one of the black cab tours of the murals. Our cabbie, Conor, was close about whether he was one side or the other, but told awful stories of violence on both sides, of

the celebration of murderers by both sides in their mural, and his view that Catholics had killed more of their own over the years than protestants, and vice versa. It was incredibly moving and stark to hear the tales, see the murals, have the bullet holes and still abandoned buildings pointed out to us. We saw the monstrous peace wall, and then, it being dark, had to find a gate still open in the wall. How surreal then to drive back into the centre of Belfast and find shoppers exploring all the big name stores, and a Christmas market and ferris wheel in full swing at the town hall - scenes of peaceful opulence that contrasted sharply with what we had just seen. We thanked our guide - it felt that perhaps it would open raw wounds to keep telling people these stories but what he told us, anyway, was that he felt telling people about it was a way to make sure it didn't keep happening - there were complexities that we didn't pick up on, or hear of, but the profound sense that all sides were caught in a perpetuating cycle (dating back hundreds of years to the 'red hand of Ulster') was intensely felt in his quiet talking.

We explored the market, drinking red wine and browsing, and then set off in search of dinner, not finding much as, a lesson we should have learned in Derry, the Irish eat early, really early. As Prita joked, Spanish and Irish meal times were a perfect match - as the Spanish sat down to lunch, the Irish could sit down to dinner ...

But we stumbled on a wonder instead, the Crown Liquor Saloon, which has the honour of being one of only two pubs owned by the National Trust - and you can see why - an ornate, stunning interior, each surface decorated, with pews and lecterns more fit for a high church, and on top of that fine Guiness and ales and other stouts by the pint - what could be finer!

We had a few and then headed for dinner, sleep and our early return to London.

More photos of the trip can be found here

Stansted to Giant's Causeway - NI part 1

Last weekend we flew from Stansted to Belfast. 

I love the anticipation of travel. We woke in the dark (actually that's not that surprising at the moment), piled on all our warm layers until we looked like bundled up paddington bears (mostly because it was freezing outside but also so we could fit everything else in our hand luggage) and made our way by tube and then overground train to the airport. Ryanair was a new experience for me - you have to queue up to get on the plan as there is no assigned seating. Actually I think Londoners really like to stand in queues - they queue for a bus, at sandwich shops, everywhere!

The flight was good, short and we could see sworls and valleys and peaks of cloud, with the Mourne mountains, the southern boundary of Northern Ireland, poking above them. We landed and jumped into our little Renault, after chatting with the kind car rental man with his sing song accent and finding about a thousand coloured brochures for what to do in NI, with the walks being top of our list. We motored past Belfast and to the coast, stopping to admire Norman castles and celtic crosses at

 Carrickfergus, and treat ourselves to tea and scones - served with butter instead of cream but oh the butter! And then on, past breakers, sea cliffs with the clouds pouring over the sides like waterfalls, sudden squalls and then to the glens. At Waterfoot we turned inland to explore them, where the glens all pile into each other in a mess of valleys and peaks which someone called 'switzerland in miniature'. We stopped at the deserted Glenariff forest park, stretched 

our legs and ate the last of our soda bread and strong Irish cheese with English mustard, and walked a short cicuit through the park. Sheep grazed and in the distance an impressive escarpment. We followed the path down into the glen, the sound of rushing water and then several beautiful waterfalls, the largest of them called the mane's tail, and everywhere dripping water from the ferns, cold and still apart from the rushing waters, we walked along the banks.

The trees were sparse but the undergrowth and ferns glowed with the mist and the afternoon sun. The hibernating woods were lovely, a sense of the green giant slumbering until spring.

We hopped back in the car, jealously going past the trail runners who had run circuits of the park, and got back onto the coast road. Unfortunately, as navigator, I had somewhat underestimated what time it gets dark over here in winter, and it was a close run thing to get to the Giant's Causeway - but we made it in the end - s

leeting and near dusk, we walked down off the cliffs to the mass of surf, waves breaking on a rocky coast, and then we were on the causeway itself, incredible hexagonal columns, marching towards the sea at differing heights, with islands out in the raging surf, a strange regular geometric world - it is easy to see how people thought this was built by the Giant Fionn mac Cumhaill. 

We explored until dark really had set in. On the way back to the visitors centre we cruched along the icy ground - we wanted the loos but discovered they were out of order - the pipes had frozen solid. We did find warmth and whiskey (Bushmills old) and toilets just down the road in the lovely friendly lit up Causeway Inn. We stayed for a few and then headed towards Derry.