Enjoy a bit of winter magic at the Lapland resort of Ruka . . .
WORDS: ALEX CORLETT
For most Brits, a temperature of -22°C is unfamiliar. For Finns – especially those living in Lapland – it’s a daily reality.
The country has a magical look. The air sparkles with diamond dust, a phenomenon where all water vapour freezes and tiny floating crystals catch the sun.
Finland’s low-key ski resorts are a great place for a winter break. The small hills attract families and tourists rather than daredevils, and tour operators like Crystal Ski offer packages with a full tasting menu of activities, as well as meals and transport.
It was just such a trip that we signed up for. Each day we took the short walk up to town, marvelling at the pines drooping under snow and commuters on snowmobiles.
Ruka is a resort on a tiny scale. A scenic roundabout sits in a square of cafés, restaurants, tour operators and ski hire companies. The holiday we were on was full board, which meant breakfast at one café and then tea every day at the Ravintola Piste.
From the window at dinner, we could see the resort’s black-graded run, floodlit until seven pm; 11pm on Fridays. So those of us who were exhausted and enjoying tea by half past five had a ringside seat for the Finnish ski squad in training. We saw more than a few high-speed crashes over a bowl of chicken and chips!
Each morning, the tour company’s wee office in the centre of Ruka was a relative hubbub of activity as guests arrived for day trips. The Finns’ English is arguably better than ours. Many fellow travellers were Brits, too.
Arriving in chunky ski gear, we’d be given a huge quilted boiler suit to put on top,
plus insulated wellies. It’s
-22°C standing still – flying along on a husky sled, wind chill takes it even lower.
On our first day, the bus took us deep into the forest to a husky centre. After a briefing and introduction to the gorgeous dogs, we each took a turn to stand on the back rails of a sled as they did a lap of the nearby woods.
Next day saw us sledging down a wooded trail to a lake. The ice sheet was a good foot thick. Drilling holes into it was warming work, before dipping in toy-sized fishing rods and waiting for a bite.
Cross-country skiing is the winter equivalent of jogging – hugely popular, with miles upon miles of grooved tracks cut into forests and alongside roads. Following set lines, it’s far easier to pick up than downhill skiing.
Sudd
