HÄMEENLINNA,
which is easier to see than to say
Just an hour after you land in Helsinki, where your face is already familiar to all the locals, you will find yourself in a small town where no one will find you for sure.
Around is an idealistic version of central Russian nature, but a completely different way of life: here they love to bike along the medieval Häme Castle, once a women's prison with a lake view, lohikeitto – a creamy soup with the most tender salmon that has never seen sanctions, and the composer Sibelius, born in these parts.
In December, Jean Sibelius turns 150 years old, and Finland has started celebrating the anniversary seriously and in advance, so that everyone who sets foot on Finnish soil can listen to his austere waltzes and symphonic poems, read his equally stern letters to his wife: "Imagine, Aina, in two weeks we will be married and can kiss anywhere and any way we want, live together, make coffee, and share our money…" – and buy a magnet with a piano worthy of the most intelligent refrigerator.
Since winter is near, every couple of days in the city you can listen to all sorts of musicians, not indifferent to the legacy of the Finnish composer. The most adventurous music lovers can gallop for two hours into the autumn forest – no joke, on horseback – to the sounds of live music (60 euros), the hungriest can have dinner with Sibelius's favorite dishes (about 50 euros).
LAKE TUUSULA,
into which it is very pleasant to jump right after a Finnish sauna
In Tuusula too, of course, they love Sibelius, but in a surprisingly feminist way: at the Järvenpää Art Museum they have opened an exhibition dedicated to the composer's wife (runs until early October) – it is not so often that the homely, patient women behind the success of their famous men receive attention.
Aina, by the way, suffered from her gloomy husband: Jean (as he is called in Finnish) had never heard of the now fashionable family therapy that suggests openly expressing all your feelings to your partner, and preferred to smoke in an ashtray that expressed his mood. Sibelius had a whole collection: he would tap the ash into one, meaning one-two-three, a waltz is being written today; into another, it is not being written – bake some kalakukko, wife.
After dinner – besides salmon, elk and reindeer are good here, if, of course, that is not too barbaric a choice for you – the plan is: a walk along the lake, so quiet that you will be able to hear your true thoughts for the first time. A couple of photos (don't get carried away, in these places it is better to feel than to capture) of the evening forest slightly touched by September. And a Finnish sauna, so relaxing that you won't be able to remember a single work problem that filled your head all last week.
The forest will cost you completely free, and for souvenirs for a couple of euros it is better to choose thoughtfully: you can buy a troll figurine that you regularly bring from all Scandinavian countries, or a cardboard Sibelius in his underwear, which you need to dress in a drawn tailcoat. This is very much like the Finns – showing wit where no one expected to find it.
HELSINKI,
where it is never boring in the evenings
Having experienced Finnish fun, let's return to the capital. Since you have already seen Senate Square with the Cathedral, and you won't be surprised even by Temppeliaukio Church, built inside a rock (not to mention the Sibelius monument made of 600 steel pipes, against which tourists love to take selfies), head to the city market.
In good weather, on Helsinki's squares you can quickly have a snack with fried sausage (called makkara, costs about 3 euros), buy something unnecessary at the flea market (you can manage for 10-15 euros), and watch songs and dances that lack the official folk festival touch in this city.
Closer to evening, when over a glass of koskenkorva (38 degrees of merriment) you inevitably start telling your new friends about 'hot Finnish guys', you will surely be understood correctly – for some reason Finns, these formidable northern people with tattooed arms and braided beards, consider themselves extremely shy. They even have a saying: when a Finn is shy, he talks to his own shoes, and when he is not shy, he talks to yours.
Well, when your well-worn sneakers have finally heard all the local revelations, hurry to the embankment: walk along the restaurants and sit on a modest bench among the stones – the ships have been waiting for you in the sunset rays for a long time.