Hello and welcome to the 26th issue of Place! As we at Place, along with countless more of you reading this, head into another lockdown, we’ve been inspired to start a new, particularly more visual series. Welcome to the first edition of “A Day In” where we take you on a walk through a part of the world thats perhaps inaccessible to you at this uncertain moment. This week’s destination? Helsinki. We invite you to put on some comfortable shoes and enjoy the stroll.
At Place, we believe that the experiences, sensations and conversations we have as we move about the world stay with us, stacking up as the years go by, forming who we are and the way we view the world. Do you have a letter to share? Send it to us at placeletter@protonmail.com. If you are interested in writing for Place you can find our inaugural pitch guide here. If you’re the social type, follow us on Twitter (@place_letter) where you can share your favourite pieces and Instagram (@placenewsletter) for a visual feast. Yours, The Place editorial team.
It’s second only to Reykjavík when it comes to the northernmost capital cities, and uniquely perched at the crossroads of Scandinavia, Eastern Europe, Russia and the Arctic. Helsinki is a city of contrasts. I had long been curious about the Nordic city, so I spent a weekend in the capital in 2019, just as the longer days of spring afforded more time to explore by daylight.
I was advised by a friend who had recently spent time in the city to seek out an Airbnb in Kallio, a trendy district filled with second-hand shops and well-reviewed eateries. But, with prices there proving to be beyond my budget I opted for a room a bit further north in Kumpula, a district full of green spaces, and home to a campus of the University of Helsinki.
Though Helsinki, at 631,000 people, is the most populous place in Finland, I never felt too far from nature and quiet streets. For breakfast one morning I ventured to Cafe Regatta, a suggestion from my Airbnb host) in Toolo, the collective name for three relaxed neighbourhoods that border the city's western peninsula. Cafe Regatta is a small red building with kitsch decor, perched on shield rocks that jut into the still ocean harbour. A man in a boat rowed past, casting sun-lit ripples across the still blue water, while I sat at a picnic table outside with a drip coffee and a piece of brilliant coloured smoked salmon on toast, a traditional choice. Fins are the highest consumers of coffee in the world, averaging eight cups per day, and fish is a cuisine staple, a fact I would find proved by my own eating habits while in the country’s capital.
Finland has a strong glassmaking tradition (it's the industrial home of luxury glasswares brand Iittala). Walking from Toolo towards the city center, I passed a variety of second hand shops selling glass candle holders, bowls, vases and other homewares, in all sorts of colours, but predominantly deep blues and greens.
After a kilometer or so I arrived at Kamppi Chapel, otherwise known as the Chapel of Silence, in Narinkkatori Square in the city center. In one of the busiest parts of the country, talking inside the multi-faith Chapel is strictly off limits. Instead, once inside the naturally lit womb-like domed space, visitors are invited to rest and reflect in silence – though in the chapel’s lobby, you can speak to a social worker free of charge.
After leaving Kamppi chapel, feeling remarkably rejuvenated, I walked to the Allas Sea Pool, located on the city's main waterfront. Here, three pools are built out over the ocean into a floating dock – two which are completely enclosed and heated, and one that provides access to a dip straight into Baltic Sea. Inside the Allas wellness center are three different types of saunas, allowing you to go back and forth between working up a sweat and jumping into frigid waters. Finnish saunas have now spread all over the world into spas and wellness centers, and in the country they maintain their central place within Finnish culture – the word sauna, is indeed Finnish. There are more saunas in Finland than anywhere in the world, at a rate of about one per household, and numerous public saunas that you can try out in the capital.
Once I’d cycled my body through extreme temperatures for an hour or so, I took a lackadaisical walk through the nearby Helsinki central market. Fluffy caribou pelts were piled up under tents, and graced the edges of warm hats and mittens. In the food section of the market, massive skin-on salmon halves were being fried on open air grills, the smell of their fishy fat rising to fill my nose. Chunky filets were served on paper plates with potatoes, anchovies, lemon or other fried vegetables.
I resisted the temptation to order a plate myself, and walked over to Vanha Kauppahalli, the oldest indoor market hall in Finland. It was here that I had perhaps the greatest soup I’ve ever had: a salmon and dill chowder that was both savoury, sweet, and creamy. As I ate, I ogled the various cans of bear meat for sale at the next vendor over.
While the majority of young people in Finland profess no adherence to any one religion, it remains largely culturally Christian, with The Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland maintaining the position of the country’s national church. The Helsinki Cathedral, of the same denomination, is a commanding structure in the central Senate Square that was originally built as a tribute to Tsar Nicholas I of Russia in the mid 19th century, a reminder that the country was once a part of the Russian empire before it declared independence in 1917. Finland fiercely defended itself against Russia during WWII, and a recent study found that Fins were the most willing out of all Europeans to take up arms for their country.
The Ateneum Museum is the country’s best-known art museum and the home of Finnish art. I walked there in the afternoon and took in a visiting exhibition on magic realism, an artistic movement which emerged in Italy at the end of the first World War, simultaneously seeking to blend fact with fiction, layering realistic scenes with dreamlike qualities. Whether it was the physical exhaustion from the sauna or the smell of salmon chowder still beguiling my senses, I remember being entranced by the works of Felice Casorati, particularly the piece Le Signorine.
My dreamlike state dragging on, I stopped to buy a few bottles of beer and after a bit of searching found a spot on the crowded and sun-drenched shield rocks of Eläintarhanlahti bay, to watch the sun go down.
As the last warm rays of the setting sun disappeared behind the city’s skyline, my hands grew cold clutching my now empty glass beer bottle. I was near Kallio, so I headed out in search of a restaurant called Cella that a friend recommended, which served traditional Finnish fare. The interior of Cella was cozy and dark, lit up by candles dripping hot wax onto their brass holders. For an appetizer, I chose something I have never since seen on a supper menu, pickles with sour cream and honey. I followed it up with a reindeer stir fry, that was served on creamy mashed potatoes with a side of gooseberry sauce.
I still think of Helsinki as a somewhat otherworldly place, defined by its continuity with nature, somewhat bizarre food offerings and uniquely different culture as a European capital. It seems to me that Finns have found some secrets to a content life, and that given their distance from everyone, they are keeping it a secret. As I write this, I’m transported back to the sunny deck of the Allas Sea Pools, where I saw two older women sunning themselves in bikinis after a frigid swim in the Baltic Sea. They looked as if there was simply no where else they would rather be.
- Kylee Pedersen is a writer and editor based in London, UK. She writes about ideas, the natural world, travel, and food, among other things.
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Join us next week for another journey.