A Sex in the Forest cocktail, made of gin, blueberries, thyme and cranberry black tea, devised at Helsinki’s A21 bar.
WATCH OPERA IN A CASTLE
SAVONLINNA, THE LAKELAND
Filing beneath the mighty towers that girdle Olavinlinna castle, a 2,000-strong crowd has gathered for the Savonlinna Opera Festival. The setting makes it seem less likely they’ve come to savour high-end Puccini than bear solemn witness to a medieval execution. For more than 100 years, the castle’s granite-flanked courtyard has hosted the festival, an unimprovably Gothic backdrop for tragedy and intrigue, set at the edge of a cobbled old town beside the mighty lake that dominates southeastern Finland. Larger than Cornwall, Lake Saimaa appears on maps as a mess of spindly inlets and speckled islands.
Bathing in Lake Saimaa after a sauna
Noise and drama are rare visitors to small-town Finland, and an hour of full-blown arias cannoning off ancient walls has almost overwhelmed the audience. Gathered on the castle ramparts during the interval, people gaze quietly out at what seems a twilit eternity of the lake’s calm, cold water. As they gird themselves for the second half, the loudest sound echoing through the arched corridors is that of fleece-lined waterproofs rustling over evening wear.
• The 2017 Savonlinna Opera Festival runs 7 July–4 August (from £22; operafestival.fi). A short walk from the castle, Original Sokos Hotel Seurahuone has waterside rooms from £100 (sokoshotels.fi).
A lakeside cabin near Sahanlahti. OPPOSITE A basket of freshly picked lingonberries
ESCAPE TO A LAKESIDE CABIN
SAHANLAHTI, THE LAKELAND
Beyond the sun-dappled porch of a cabin lies a realm of Moomin-esque serenity. A brook percolates gently through the foundations of an old sawmill into the gilded waters of Lake Saimaa, and a sigh of wind riffles the distant tops of spindly birch and aspen trees.
‘Any Finn who lives in the city needs a quiet place to escape to,’ says Marko Fabritius, piling his family’s weekend provisions on the lichen-blotted decking. The summerhouse in the woods is the defining native institution, a link with the rustic upbringings enjoyed and endured by the bulk of Finnish grandparents. With a sauna and a big flat-screen telly, the Fabritius family’s rented cottage is a far cry from the off-grid, ultra-spartan pine sheds that some Finns call their home from home – but it still ticks the vital sensory box.
‘Silence is deep in our nature,’ says Marko, with a look of contentment. The Finns even have a phrase for it: omissa oloissaan – alone with one’s thoughts.