Get out and ride - The Subtle Knife

Don’t go to Finland for the food, says Anton Scholz, but for solitude and space it can’t be beaten

My father gave me a fin-knife when I was a boy. It once belonged to my grandfather, a POW in Finland at the end of WWII, who brought it home with him. It was a beautiful thing, handmade, and I remember considering it my greatest treasure, until I lost it while playing in the woods. My father was furious.

Twenty years later, as the BMW single thumps away between my knees and the endless forests, crystal clear lakes and typical red-white houses of Finland rush by, the memories return. Maybe it is time for me to search for my fin-knife again.

A Finnish friend invited me here to escape the crowded cities of Germany and find some serenity, something Finland has in abundance. For hours, we ride through a maze of dirt and tarmac roads criss-crossing the country, seeing just a lone truck every half hour or so. The silence and solitude here has driven some people mad. That doesn’t bother me, but the never- ending daylight does. As we ride north, the nights get brighter, and it’s harder for me to sleep.

Henrik is slowing down, pointing his BMW GS Adventure towards the roadside and a group of blockhouses. I’m surprised we’re stopping so soon, then look at my watch and realize that it is past 9pm already – we’ve done nearly 400 miles since morning. The eternal light and the forests, lakes, more forests and more lakes really make you lose any feeling for time and space…

Shortly afterwards, I’m relaxing in a hot sauna. I could get used to this at the end of a long day’s ride. The pleasant heat drives away the fatigue and gives relief to aching shoulders and back. The mandatory jump into the ice-cold lake right outside brings you back to life!

Body Clocked
Two days ago we had left Henrik’s summerhouse near Hamina, an historical harbour city, some 90 miles east of Helsinki. Our destination was the Konti Rally, one of the largest bike rallies in Scandinavia, where up to 3000 bikers gather every year. When you think that the entire Finnish population is only around two-thirds that of London, that’s pretty impressive. Especially as the organisers always try hard to find a location far removed from civilisation. This year they choose a place deep in the woods of Lapland, close to the Russian border. Well, Lapland is famous for its beautiful fin-knifes, which the Finns call Buukko. Maybe this would be the place to find my knife?

Sauna over, it’s time for dinner. That fact that there are few Finnish restaurants outside of Finland is no coincidence. Finnish cuisine is rather simple and rough, a little like the country itself. You get lots of stews, dark brown bread and plenty of potatoes. Often the meals are flushed down with coffee, which is as bad as it is popular.

In almost 2500 miles of travelling in Finland I could not get hold of a single decent coffee. But hey, I didn’t come here for the hot drinks, right? Anyway, smoked salmon – the great highlight of Finnish cuisine – is excellent.

I wake up to what looks like a bright new morning. It’s 2.30am! Damn it! I grab the eye cover I stole from the airline and turn around in my bed one more time. After a few more I finally awake around seven to the drumming sound of rain on my window. Great! Can’t get any better than this, but as I open the door I see a police patrolman standing right outside the blockhouse. Just when you think it can’t get worse…. I begin to wonder if it was such a good idea to come to Finland after all. I tell Henrik, who after last night’s beer consumption wants to make sure that he is not getting into any trouble. He puts on his boots and walks out to the policeman in the pouring rain, in little more than his underwear. A few moments later he comes back: “Let’s go!” is all he says.

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