THE HAIRY GIRAFFE… IN FINNISH LAPLAND
After one week in Finnish Lapland, it’s time to reflect. How did we experience this journey? What were our joys, disappointments, questions, doubts, and discoveries? This is not merely an assessment of a country but rather of a trip—how we perceived it individually and subjectively.
 We are François and Benjamin, Canadian and French giraffe hairstylists and travel enthusiasts. On this blog, discover our travels, tips, moods, and everything you need to become a giraffe hairstylist and embark on travelling the world. An honest blog with photos guaranteed 100% unfiltered and untouched. |
Benjamin’s Travel Reflections
There are names that evoke dreams, containing within them myths, stories, and legends. When one considers a trip to Finnish Lapland, images arise of snow-covered forests traversed by reindeer and huskies, of the northern lights dancing in the starry night, and in the distance, Santa’s workshop preparing our gifts… In northern Finland, reality closely resembles those iconic images.
From the very first moments, the contrast was evident: in Finnish Lapland, everything is white. White everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. And yet, I had lived in Montreal for four years; it wasn’t my first time seeing snowy landscapes! But here, the snow was omnipresent, covering every square centimeter of the scenery. This abundance of snow had transformed forests of trees into forests of ghosts, often bent under the weight of the snow. Unlike all the snowy landscapes I had seen before (and those I’ve seen since), Lapland’s landscapes unmistakably evoke the archetype of what one imagines when thinking of the Far North. If I had been younger, I would have certainly sung ‘Let it Go!’ throughout the entire stay…
This thick layer of snow covers and enhances nature. It creates a protective cocoon: sounds are muffled, the pace of steps slows down, one feels sheltered in these landscapes frozen by the cold. Even the rhythm of the reindeer pulling tourists on their sleds is more about contemplation than sporting competition (compared to dog sledding, which feels like Fast & Furious…). And the Arctic animals at Ranua Zoo, the northernmost zoo in Finland, are as active as a lion exhausted by the heat of the savanna.
In winter, days are short but struggle to give way to the nights: twilight seems to linger in a splendid play of lights and colors. The white then gives way to sublime variations of pink that fill the sky before yielding to the black of the night and, if one is lucky, to the greens of the northern lights.
The auroras we saw during our week in Finnish Lapland were quite timid but still visible to the naked eye. Despite our desire to witness this exceptional spectacle, the freezing nights (hovering around -30°C) dampened our motivation to stay outside for hours without moving (it’s better to wear multiple layers of clothing and several pairs of socks to avoid freezing on the spot…).
If we had chosen Finland, it was also because winter there is synonymous with Christmas. And despite François swearing that Santa Claus lives north of Canada, I believe only what I see, and I know that it was indeed the real Santa Claus I met in his village in Rovaniemi. We arrived more than a month after the 25th of December, but the scents, the colors, the decorations (and, let’s admit it, the desire to still believe) inevitably brought us back to Christmas. I felt so small, like a kid, in front of that big, jolly man with a white beard. The photograph we took with him proudly sits in our living room every Christmas, as proof that we had the privilege of spending a short moment with the authentic character.
Of course, our adult eyes perceive the capitalist machinery behind the shop and the items stamped ‘Official Village’, but if there’s one place where the child within us must take over, it’s in Rovaniemi. The cold, the snow, the endless forests: everything is there to allow us to believe, no matter our age. Once again, by covering the landscapes, the white seems to offer a protective cover, a coat that prevents us from being cynical and allows us to enjoy these timeless moments in complete innocence.
But snow reveals as much as it conceals: a stay in Finnish Lapland is also an opportunity to discover the culture of the Sámi, an indigenous people, through activities (sleigh rides or reindeer feeding), museums (such as the Arktikum in Rovaniemi), or restaurants (featuring traditional Sámi meals: berry juice, reindeer stew and lingonberry jam, salmon soup, cloudberry or lingonberry jam, and coffee with leipäjuusto cheese).
When you return home, back to France, you experience a second shock. After all that immaculate white, after the tranquility of the Lapland forests and the smiles of the Sámi people, you perceive what you’ve always known quite differently. You can’t help but come to the realization that yes, our winters are indeed sad, bland, and dull compared to the brilliance of Lapland winters. You have to come to terms with it; it’s time to turn the page. You’ll have to wait until next December and the return of Mariah Carey to think again about the magic of Christmas…
Check out François’ Travel Reflections:
And find all our other articles about Finnish Lapland (detailed itinerary, focus on Finnish food, and Sámi culture…) here:
