Lapland

For years (and long before it was a permanent fixture on any social media bucket-list) I've wanted to visit Finnish Lapland. And so on the 18th of December (after nearly a year of scheming and planning), just three days shy of the shortest day of the year, we found ourselves disembarking at Ivalo Airport. At 11am the sky had a few streaks of the light (the sun would not come above the horizon for another month at least). It was -22 degrees and we were 150 miles north of the Arctic Circle.

After a beautiful drive through snow-covered forest we arrived and checked into our glass igloo for the night. It was toasty and warm and being completely horizontal for the first time in over 24 hours felt pretty amazing. Even in the afternoon gloaming with a few snow-drenched pines leaning just into our field of vision the view was stunning.

After a few adult beverages, snug in our igloo we focused on the sky above us and did see some pale flickering. Jet-lag in full swing, we (predictably) fell asleep and apparently slept through a rather stunning display of the northern lights. 

Never mind. We had  plenty more planned over the next few days of our stay. 

We kicked off our Arctic adventure with a reindeer safari led by a Sami (Lappish) reindeer herder from a nearby village. 

We bundled into a 2-person sleigh, lined with reindeer skins and set off through the forest towed by our trusty reindeer. It was a clear day, so the sky was fairly bright despite the fact that the sun had never fully risen. Every inch of every tree, bush, plant, shrub, was perfectly and completely coated and groaning under the weight of ice and snow. Even for someone who grew up with snowy winters, it was positively magical.

We all associate reindeer with the Arctic, but I had never really seen one properly up close or paused to think about how important they are to the people of the far north. 

At first glance, they don't look like hearty enough creatures for the climate. Their spindly legs look quite exposed and their fur completely lacks the length and lushness that you expect from an animal that survives in such a harsh environment. But try and run your fingers through reindeer fur and it is virtually impossible. It is so dense that you can't get your fingers through it and each individual hair is hollow and filled with air, essentially rendering reindeer completely waterproof. They are quite literally made of nature's own Goretex. 

They survive almost entirely on lichen, a sort of dry moss that hangs from the trees. Again, an unlikely food source that looks like a painfully meagre in the face of such an unforgiving environment. 

After our safari as we warmed up over hot-chocolate, in a smoke-filled lavvu (the Lappish equivalent of tepees used by Native Americans) our Sami guide told us about life north of the Arctic Circle.

Reindeer are essential to the Sami people - and to this day, the Sami are predominately reindeer herders. Collectively his village manages a herd of about 8000 - and they lose about 500 a year to bears, wolves and lynx. And while he now tracks the herd with his snowmobile - his father used to do so by cross-country skis - very little has changed.

 He still herds in his traditional Sami-reindeer skin boots that his mother made for him in the 80's. They are made of 3 layers of reindeer skin - and having experienced the warmth of reindeer hide gloves myself, I am fairly certain that his 30-year-old hide boots are as good as the best Goretex winter boots money can buy.

The Sami people are spread across the Arctic regions of Finland, Sweden and Norway - and would consider themselves Sami first, and Finnish, Swedish, Norwegian a distant second. Until the 1960's many Sami herders still lived in lavvus and the high north of Finland didn't have electricity until the 1980's.

It was a genuinely remarkable experience. It felt exotic, which for all the idyllic villages, crumbling castles, and towering cathedrals that dot the continent, exotic is not a term I often use to describe a European holiday, but this felt exactly that.

PS I began this post not long after we returned to Australia in January, it's only taken me five months to complete. 

Six month check-up

It's been almost six months exactly since we left Malaysia and moved to Australia. Before we left I did a blog post on the things that I would miss and the things that I would not. Turns out, that list was pretty much spot on. But here are a few things I overlooked:

Winter isn't so bad 

 

So I've done (more than) my fair share of complaining about the mild Australian winter, but I did overlook an upside. Winter cooking. A nice steak and ale pie just doesn't taste as good when it is hot outside. Fact.

I can haz warms 

 

On another wintry note, the cat loves us so much more when it's cold outside. Yes, we know she is just using us for our warms, we don't care. Back in the tropics, she her meows could roughly be translated as 'oi, geroff me.'

Clean and cold tap water is a real luxury. 

Just because the tap water in Kuala Lumpur won't kill you, that doesn't mean you want to drink it. After a big storm our taps would often run brown sludge. We even had to put a filter on our washing machine so our clothes didn't come out dirtier than they went in. Sydney water is awesome.

These boots were made for walkin'

 

Walking places. In KL to walk anywhere was to take your life into your hands, whether it was the open six-foot deep storm drains, broken and dilapidated sidewalks, piles of mystery rubble and garbage, drivers using pedestrians for target practice or all of the above. Sydney is a pedestrian dream. Well maintained bike and walking paths, functioning intersections, and drivers that give pedestrians the right-of-way. In Sydney, the biggest hazard is show-off fitness-buffs mowing down packs of tourists and small children jogging in Circular Quay.

Learning the lingo

Just because they officially speak English in Australia does not mean I understand everything that is said. Some Aussie accents are more impenetrable than a soused Scotsman at Hogmanay.  Throw in some of their bonkers slang to boot and I am at a complete, utter loss.  In Malaysia, as long as you understood 'can' and 'cannot' you could go far.

 Parking

We went to IKEA last weekend. IKEA is exactly the same every where in the world, a full-fledged, bonafide, three-ring circus. As we circled the parking garage like vultures I did fleetingly think, 'if we were in Malaysia, we could just abandon the car anywhere and get away with it.' Then I came to my senses.

Getting the same answer every time. 

 

When I was working through the final details of getting the cat admitted into Australia, I had to ring up the Department of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries as well as the Quarantine Centre a few times. When I did, something magical happened: if I asked both departments the same question, I received the same answer. Every. Single. Time. The answer didn't change depending upon who picked up the phone, or what day of the week it was or if there was a full moon. There was a single, correct answer - not four conflicting ones, each with kernel of truth.

Brace yourselves, winter is coming!

As someone who has lived through 22 Illinois winters, I really didn't think I'd even hardly notice what passes for winter in Sydney.  I was wrong and this is why:

• 3.5 years in the tropics completely ruined me.
• There is no indoor heating in Sydney (for real).
• It's May! So to my 'northcentric' mind things should really just be warming up. I cannot process that it is actually November here.
• In Malaysia we were only about 200 miles from the equator and sunrise/sunset never really shifted by more than about 30 minute, it's completely dark at 5:30 here and that is confusing.

Now admittedly, there will be no snow, no freezing temperatures, probably not even a frost. But let me put it this way, 50F/10C is a long, hard fall when you've lived in near constant 90F/32C conditions and you are completely unprepared for the change. Even Catface is struggling, and she is completely covered in fur. She is spending her days camped out directly in front of  the fan heater.

My mom rescued me last month by bringing over all my sweaters that have been in storage in Chicago these last few years, so that was a help - but then I got caught out on shoes. In Malaysia, aside from a mandatory pair of black heels and hiking boots I owned only a pile of sandals and flip flops. I can hardly wear my hiking boots daily, I need some shoes. Like real shoes that cover your feet and require socks. Speaking of which, I also need some socks.

You may think I sound like a total sissy (and I kind of do), but by Sydney standards I'm still one of the tough ones. People here are already walking around in puffer jackets and wool coats. I can't imagine what it is going to look like in July, Gore-tex gloves and balaclavas?

So my northern friends, you may be feeling smug now, but just wait until it's January and we'll be drinking white wine in the sun while you trudge through the snow.