Cafés buzz with conversation. Streets swarm with cyclists on fluorescent green bikes along with strollers enjoying the last hours of daylight.

Picnickers lay out their blankets and bottles of wine against the backdrop of a setting sun. A sunset usually marks an ending, but in Oulu, Finland, it is only the

beginning of a brief and dusky intermission. In less than two hours, the sun will rise again—another dawn at 2 am...

While, for much of the year, Finland endures potentially sub-arctic temperatures and winters of continuous darkness from mid-May to late July, it is darkness that eludes the Finns and near perfect temperatures that keep them out all hours of the "night."
The eternal daylight, aside from being what ultimately drew us to this offbeat spot, may mean bouts of insomnia for the native and traveler alike. We often found ourselves wide-awake at 3, 4, 5 a.m., unable to shield our eyes from the light creeping in. But with a wealth of gorgeous settings in which to frolic the days away, taking advantage of the longer days became effortless.

Helsinki: An Invitation to Finland
Our own trip began in the capital city. With a population of only 532,000, Helsinki is hardly the kind of overcrowded, cosmopolitan capital city you might expect. More like a large village, Helsinki invites you to explore it by foot.
In fact, the walk from the Hotel Marski—located in the heart of downtown Helsinki—to Helsinki’s harbor, Etelasatama, takes only minutes and leads us along the occasional cobblestone street and past 19th century architecture and sculpture.
We take more notice, however, of how summer drinking and café life abound in Finland. Enjoying a beer at 9 a.m. is as common as enjoying a latté. The taste of dark ale with breakfast was less than appealing, but the charm of these ubiquitous open-air cafés and bars lived up to the American image of a more romantic Europe.

At Etelasatama, we meander through busy fish and flea markets, where the locals purchase dinner and the tourists ogle trinkets. The harbor’s real draw, though, is the ferry to Suomenlinna—a tight cluster of islands on which Finland once defended itself against Russian invasion.
The walking tour of the island is more than mildly interesting and leads visitors through worn-torn buildings, past old bunkers and canons, and across dirt paths overlooking the ship-filled sea. A variety of museums on the island, from historic to temporary, also keep visitors coming in groves. But most pass the time in Suomenlinna picnicking on grassy lawns or frequenting the island’s quaint cafés and restaurants.

The Lakeland
Because much of the country is lakeland (Finland can boast 187,888 lakes), island hopping is actually a common weekend jaunt. Our journey through Finland, which started in Helsinki, progressed up to Tampere, and then further north and west to Oulu, was certainly enriched by these island excursions.

Off the shores of Tampere—a city famous among tourists and one of Finland’s larger cities in the Lakeland region— is only a 20-minute and 10-euro ride to Viikinsaari—a lush, forest-like island open from June to mid-August. As soon as you step off the ferry, you find yourself in untouched woodland, where a variety of plants and shrubs overtake dirt paths and busy bugs outnumber visitors.

Perhaps the flora and fauna at Viikinsaari is a bit much for those accustomed to sidewalks, though; we spent most of our time on the island at Kaidessaari, the island’s popular restaurant, which reportedly burned down once, was rebuilt, and burned down again. Despite its poor luck, Kaidessaari reportedly gets crowded, but we enjoyed a quiet and elegant meal of salmon salad and lobster bisque. Only the large species of flies and other insects that joined our meal humbled the experience.
Tampere was also on our itinerary because it was hosting the Pispalan Sottiisi, a biannual international folk dance festival. Showcasing both traditional and modern folk music, young performers, dressed in outfits right out of Heidi, dance on stage, while cheered on by a singing, clapping, stomping crowd that spans generations and nationalities. In between sets, spectators enjoy a large selection of Finnish fast food—chopped up blood sausage, fried sardines (eyes included), and hot dog bits with fries.

Just a mile away from the hullabaloo of the Pispalan is the quirky little Lenin Museum. The museum consists of two small but well-kept rooms that display a wealth of original documents, detailed descriptions of Lenin’s support of Finnish independence, and even the couch he slept on in the Helsinki library. The museum shop’s eclectic collection, including Marx t-shirts, Che Guevara mugs, and a Yeltsin matrioshka doll, is itself worth a visit.

By Train, By Bicycle
Two nights in most Finnish cities, even a relatively large one like Tampere, can turn into a very long time, but late that night or early that morning (one couldn’t tell anymore), we boarded the intercity overnight train to Oulo, a university town on Finland’s west coast.

Unlike anything we’ve experienced on Amtrak, the Finland trains were on time to the minute, their rooms more comfortable, and the conductors pleasant and prompt. Above that, at only 20 euros per person, the three-bunked sleeper must be one of the cheapest accommodations in Finland (though you’ll have to pay more for a single or private sleeper).
A few tourists we met at Suomenlinna planned even more adventurous routes by train. It is only a seven-hour trip from Helsinki to St. Petersburg, Russia, while a train to Moscow may begin a journey across Russia into Asia (connections include China, Japan, and Korea).

Riding on the train does have its drawbacks, though. What has made our temporary insomnia bearable so far is the lavish brunch spread provided by the Scandic Hotels—a company recently bought by Hilton. We might have expected eggs and oatmeal, but seeing the generous platters of sliced salmon and lox, cheeses of all lactose levels, and a surplus of rich desserts was enthralling, especially since a "complimentary breakfast" usually means a danish and some fruit.

Finland was constantly surprising and impressing us with pleasantness and beauty. Its cities gleam, landscapes are seemingly unaffected by civilization, while gracious locals—blond, and tan—enjoy a seemingly high quality of life. The country also has a reputation for being the safest city in Europe (even with relatively few police). Not having to skip the jewelry and hide your money on vacation is a plus.

Still, Finland lacks a vital element we may take for granted in the States: diversity. Coming from one of the most diverse cities in the world, New York, to a country whose population is 93% Finn (the remainder being mostly Swede) is a shock to the system. Finland offers little to complain about, though, and nowhere did we find this truer than in Oulu.

Like most of the locals, we decide to take in Oulu’s splendor by bicycle. For 12 euros, we make off with two rickety bikes from the train station that transported us into what seemed like paradise.

The sky is clear, the temperature…perfect. The long stretches of Oulu’s cycling routes cross over bridges that look over crystallized lakes and out at wide meadows. Cycling in Oulu that day all the while eating handfuls of plump cherries we picked up at the kauppatori, or local market, still feels like a dream we only imagined.
The dream ends, or at least gets more bizarre, with our visit to Turkansaari, an open-air museum in the river of Oulujoki. After asking several misinformed strangers and finding one wrong bus stop after another, we are finally on the right hour-long ride to the island. What meets us at the end is a half-mile walk in dust to an even dustier farmyard complex.

Turkansaari is preserved with all that was typical of this area in the age of tar burning and log floating. Demonstrations of these and other old forms of livelihood capture a historic Finland, but the musty old buildings—cellars, barns, and cowsheds—and the lack of indoor plumbing anywhere seemed to me efficient sufficient reminders. We did stumble upon a small performance which, despite it being unintelligible, amused us for some time. A large woman with no teeth keeps the show alive while the skit ends with a chorus of blond children in rags and an old man drinking too much.

Visitors to Turkansaari may leave the island by tar boat, a viable alternative since the bus appears infrequently. But we’ve already missed the last ride and the bus isn’t due to come for three hours, so instead we splurge and get a taxi back into town.

We might have been disappointed; it was almost 8 p.m. And then we realized: we had the whole day ahead of us.

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