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From the dense forests of Lapland to the wide Bothnian Bay, travel in Finland is a study in contrasts.
By Elizabeth Heath
“Reindeer!” Several of us shout in unison at our first sighting of these boreal deer in the wild, an antlered duo blithely munching on dewy grass. We’re at Pohjolan Pirtti & Kievari, a historic lakeside farm that feels a long way from anywhere. In reality, we are a long way away—from airports, major cities, or urban conveniences, and we’re closer to the Russian border than we are to the nearest highway.
We warm our bones with hot blueberry juice drank from wooden Kuksa cups, rub hands over a wood stove, and bake traditional Lappish flatbread, which we’ll later eat with moose casserole. It’s a microcosm of Finnish Lapland in a few hours—vast, remote, dazzlingly wild, far removed, both in geography and attitude, and absolutely filled with reindeer.
Reindeer Wranglers
©Elizabeth Heath
©Elizabeth Heath
©Visit Finland
The two deer we sighted early in the day were just the tip of the reindeer iceberg. By the time we arrive at Kujalan Porotila, a sixth-generation reindeer farm with a recent sustainable tourism bent, our driver has already slowed several times to let these denizens do their slow trot across the road. At the farm, herder Juha Kujala and his son walk down to greet us, each leading a reindeer on a leash. The animals are as docile as well-behaved dogs, and we each get a chance to walk one, rub their furry antlers, and sink our hands into their dense coats.
A short time later, with reindeer furs in place of gym mats, we’re in an outdoor reindeer yoga class—trying hard to focus on our asanas as adult and baby reindeer graze all around us. They’re indifferent to our oohing, aahing and attempts to pet them, showing interest only when we offer them a freshly plucked mushroom, which, along with moss and dozens of types of foliage that sprout on the spongy forest floor, make for tasty reindeer food.
Turns out that reindeer themselves are tasty food, as we’ll learn at the farm and during countless other meals across the region. Reindeer meat is stewed, sauteed, dried into jerky and salted and cured like prosciutto. Reindeer fur and leather are used for clothing, rugs, and housewares, and reindeer antlers, which they shed and regrow every year, are used for handicrafts and jewelry. And while it’s easy to anthropomorphize these gentle, cow-eyed animals—after all, this is Santa Claus and Rudolph country—Kujala describes a circle of life that’s both sustainable and sensible in a place where winter food supplies once spelled life or death for Laplander families.
Every single one of Lapland’s more than 200,000 reindeer—and yes, that’s more than the human population of the region—are owned by herder-farmers. Every one of them is collared and earmarked with the individual herder’s notch, and some are equipped with GPS trackers. In the summertime, they wander freely across the territory, often roaming more than 100 kilometres from “home.”
When winter comes, and heavy snow makes it harder to graze, the herds arrive on their own to the farms where they know they’ll be fed and protected from predators. Individuals who stray from their herd are rounded up with snowmobiles. To control overpopulation and provide one of Lapland’s staple foods, a set number is culled each year, and then the cycle begins again.
Next Stop for Our Travel in Finland—Russia
©Visit Finland
©Elizabeth Heath
©Elizabeth Heath
By the time we’re paddling canoes along the Oulangan River, the reindeer we pass as they lounge on sandy beaches seem old hat. It’s a challenging 16 km of rowing on a windy day, but on calmer stretches of the winding river, we can rest our paddles long enough to marvel in this broad expanse of undisturbed wilderness and wonder if we’re still really in modern Europe.
At lunchtime, we’re led to a lean-to shelter and firepit, one of dozens of free-to-use refuges in the park. Tommi Kallberg, the owner of Oulangan Taika wilderness activities, offers thermoses of his homemade reindeer stew as guide Mikael chops wood for the fire. Soon, we’re drinking campfire coffee, the grounds settling in the bottom of our Kuksa mugs, and eating grilled juustoa, which is aptly known as “Finnish squeaky cheese,” served with cloudberry jam. We pack out every single thing we pack in—there are no waste bins at these refuges, and no one would think to leave behind any garbage.
©Elizabeth Heath
©Elizabeth Heath
©Visit Finland
Back on the water, we conclude our paddle just a few kilometres shy of the Russian border—a concept that’s both frightening and fascinating. Finns have always lived with this proximity, and while relations might never have been described as warm, there’s certainly a newfound sense of ominousness given the recent geopolitical landscape.
We feel it again at Isokenkäisten Klubi, a gloriously rustic, remote wilderness lodge where signs warn errant hikers and dog walkers not to wander into the border zone—the 3 km buffer between the two countries. We’ve got little reason to stray though, given the hearty wild foods dinner that awaits us—more reindeer on the menu!—inside the cozy lodge, which is run by sisters Katja and Sirpa Kämäräinen.
The original saunas, cottages and main lodge are mighty log-cabin affairs built by the Kämäräinen’s father, Aimo. They were once frequented by heads of state who meted out diplomacy in the Finnish tradition of naked sauna sessions —apparently a great equalizer of men, regardless of stature.
Saunas and Northern Lights
We didn’t get to try the saunas at Isokenkäisten Klubi, but we didn’t have to look far to find our löyly—the hot steam that rises when water is ladled over the hot rocks of a Finnish sauna. Marjo Määttä, one of the “sauna elves” at Pyhäpiilo Sauna World, guides us through the traditional smoke sauna rituals, which include gently batting each other with bundles of birch and juniper, as well as asking permission to pour more water to stoke the löyly. Tip to sauna newbies: If you can’t stand the löyly, it’s time to take a break from the sauna.
Sauna Images ©Visit Finland
From the roughly 80°C sauna, we dip into the bracing water of the nearby lake, then to the waiting hot tub, then back to the sauna. It’s an invigorating ritual that I could get used to, and one we’ll repeat at several stops along the way.
On two occasions, our late nights of saunas, swims and hot tub dips were rewarded with the most fortunate of treats—early-season appearances of the Northern Lights. For me and others in our group, our first time seeing the Aurora Borealis was every bit as magical as we might have hoped.
Even with the “minor” shows we saw, it’s easy to understand the mythology surrounding the lights, which the Indigenous Sami people regard as the souls of the dead or the spirits of animals. As the lights undulated in green, purple and magenta, they seemed every bit alive—powerful, mysterious, and simultaneously comforting and disconcerting.
Image Gallery ©Visit Oulu
As we travel southwest to the city of Oulu, on Finland’s Bothnian Bay, the landscape changes from primordial woods to farmland, managed forests and soon, the mostly modern architecture of Finland’s fifth largest city.
The settlement dates to at least the 1300s, though few historic wooden buildings survive, due to a series of fires over the centuries. Today, Oulu—a European Capital of Culture in 2026 and the home of the Air Guitar World Championships—is a centre for high tech and innovation, a university city that feels clean, young, brainy, and efficient.
Our last sauna is one for the bucket list, and tops among the only-in-Finland experiences of a busy week. The Koivurannan is a sauna boat, a floating cottage of sorts that chugs along Oulu’s broad Oulujoki River, the winding body of water that defines the city. On a twilight cruise, we ladle on the löyly, pour a few drinks, and jump into the cold river, its water clean enough to drink yet dark enough to disappear into.
©Vyara Semkova
Sauna, river, sauna. Hot, cold, hot. Comfort, discomfort, comfort. Were we jumping into an abyss, or into nature’s loving arms? When you take the leap in Finland, the answer, it seems, is yes.
The writer’s journey was organized by Adventure Apes, a woman-owned adventure tour operator that provides authentic outdoor and cultural travel experiences across Finland.
Elizabeth is a widely published travel writer living in Umbria, Italy, where she also runs Villaggio Tours, a small-group tour company offering authentic local experiences from the base of a medieval hilltop village.
