***  FINLAND  2015   -  WEEKS 13~14  ***

CAMPING IN NORTHERN NORWAY and FINLAND 2015 - Kirkenes, Øvre Pasvik Valley, Varanger Fjord and Vestre Jakobselv, Berlevåg, Utsjoki, Karigasniemi, Kautokeino, Karesuando in Northern Sweden, Kilpisjärvi and Treriksröset, Enontekiö, Pyhäjoki, Kittilä:

Into Finnmark (Arctic Norway) at Näätämö border-crossing:  we crossed into Finnmark at the Näätämö open border-crossing, with the miserably wet weather no better in Norway, and followed the river down to the Skoltefossen waterfalls at Neiden (click on Map 1 right). Here we turned east onto the main E6 towards Kirkenes, crossing the headland to drive along the length of Neidenfjord with the misty rain cloud so low and visibility so poor that we could make out little detail along the distant coast. The E6 turned inland over high ground past the military garrison and airfield, dropping down past Langfjord to Hesseng and on to Kirkenes, Norway's most north-easterly town.

Click on 5 highlighted areas of map for details of Arctic Norway and Finland

Kirkenes:  the rain had eased but the air was still gloomy, and as we drove into the town, large numbers of parked cars and closed streets barred our way. We were diverted down to the harbour road where we managed to find the last of the parking, and walked up into the centre; streets were filled with stalls and clearly the whole of Kirkenes was en fête despite the wretched weather; it all seemed totally surrealistic! (see log of our 2014 visit to Kirkenes) Threading our way through the stalls to the little square with the War Mothers monument, we found an ATM for Norwegian cash and the Tourist Information Centre (TIC) to discover what was happening: our arrival had coincided with the 3 day long Kirkenes Summer Festival - some summer! The Library's free wi-fi showed that this dreary, grey weather was forecast for the next few days. Along the harbour road to Kirkenes' Rema 1000 supermarket, we stocked with provisions, and as the pouring rain started again we debated the wisdom of sticking with our plans to drive 90 kms along the narrow, bumpy road into the Øvre Pasvik Valley in such fearful weather with little prospect for improvement. After some consideration, we decided to chance it and extricating ourselves from the town traffic, we set sat-nav coordinates for Vaggatem and set off.

Into the Øvre Pasvik Valley:  back at Hesseng we turned off onto Route 885, the road which leads down into the Øvre Pasvik Valley, that remote and curiously anomalous southward projecting salient of Norwegian territory wedged between the Russian Oblast of Murmansk on the Petsamo peninsula and the remote NE area of Finland around Lake Inarijärvi (see log of our 2014 visit to the Pasvik Valley). At least on a Saturday afternoon there were no convoys of trucks from the re-opened iron mines at Bjørnevatn, and the scoured road had been resurfaced in the last 12 months. But beyond the turning to the mine spoil heaps, the road surface was in a dreadful state with entire sections of tarmac totally stripped of asphalt by constant pounding from mine trucks, and quite justifiably the Norway's worst road sign was still there (see above left). With the weather gloomily dull, the forests obscured by pouring misty rain, and the disgraceful road surface to contend with, it was going to be a wearying 90 km drive into the valley.

Alongside Langfjord we dropped down around the Bjørnevatn lakes and the border zone by the Pasvik River. Through the forests, we made slow progress on the bumpy and poorly maintained road surface, eventually reaching Svanvik. There was little point today turning off to Høyde 96, the Cold War former military lookout tower; in this poor visibility the mist would obscure even the river let alone the town of Nikel which is normally shrouded with smoky emissions from the smelting works which dominate the town (see left). Today we continued ahead, bumping our way along the narrow road through endless forest lands passing occasional farmsteads, sometimes closely alongside the river-border, sometimes further inland. When we could see the river, the misty Russian territory on the far bank looked even more gloomily uninviting than ever. On and on the road wound, shoulder-achingly rutted, with just the occasional local passing car as we bumped along past the wider water where the Pasvik River swelled out into Vaggatem Lake. Hay drying racks stretched along the lake shore as we approached the village of Vaggatem, just a handful of farmsteads, the descendents of the original settlers sponsored by the Norwegian government to populate this isolated valley.

Pasvik Café-Camping:  we turned into the driveway of Pasvik Café-Camping, and settled into a pitch opposite the reception hut, stowing our food shopping. At least the rain had stopped, but the river-lake was scarcely visible through the trees in the misty rain-cloud. It had been a long, bumpy and wearying drive along the valley, but we were here at last at Vaggatem, finally able to relax with a beer and ease aching shoulders (Photo 1 - Pasvik Café-Camping). The campsite owner and her family arrived back from shopping all the way from Kirkenes; the thought of a 3 hour round trip of almost 200 kms for weekly shopping made the drive to our local supermarket seem humblingly banal. When they had unloaded their supplies, we booked in; prices for a stay here at Vaggatem were expensive at 250 NOK/night plus extra for showers and internet and limited facilities, but even so it was good to be back at this charactersome and remote spot (see right). Tonight Sevettijärvi seemed another world away, but the map showed it only a little distance westwards across the uninhabited Vätsäri wilderness of Northern Finland, and in fact here at Vaggatem we were now well south of last night's stay at Sevettijärvi (click on Map 1 at top right of page).

A gloomy day in Øvre Pasvik Valley:  the following morning the rain had stopped but the sky was still gloomily overcast; we could even see the river-lake now and greeted the Pasvikelva/Paatsjoki River which we had last seen a week ago from the Paatsjoki bridge near Nellim as the river flowed from Lake Inarijärvi. Today after a leisurely morning in camp, we should drive up to the head of the valley or at least the road's end at Nyrud border-police post. The campsite owner asked if we were going to venture out to the Treriksrøysa, the monument at the remote and inaccessible meeting-point of the borders of Finland, Norway and Russia; the 20kms unsurfaced and bouldery forestry road had apparently been levelled over the last 12 months. We should like to reach the monument, but a 40km overall drive on rough surface involved significant risk for the camper's tyres and suspension with still a 10km there and back trek along the border fence; we should take an investigative look. Click here for detailed map of Øvre Pasvik Valley

Beyond Vaggatem village with its 5 farmsteads, the now even more bumpy lane curved around the enclosed bays of Lake Vaggatem and, along the final section of forested road, reached the now-closed Gløkåsen police-post and the turning to the Treriksrøysa forest road. We parked here to investigate the current state of the road (see above left). While the rough and bouldery surface had been levelled to some extent, this was still not worth the risk of attempting to force a passage for 20kms along here without a 4WD vehicle, and we continued around the final section of Route 885 to the Nyrud border-guard station set right on the river border. With little view through the forest, we returned around to the bird-watching hide (fugelbu in Norwegian) which overlooks the river-border. An information panel detailed a surviving brown bear hibernation den used 2004~06 by a female bear to give birth to cubs. The bear lacked the natural wariness about human presence; when this happens, the cubs pick up the trait and have to be culled. We followed the marked path through the forest and found the long-deserted bear den dug into the sandy earth (see right).

Back to the parking area and beyond the reindeer fence, we took the track to the bird-watching hide for some 300m through the pine and birch forest with its dense ground-cover of Lingonberry; this year there was no trace of Lingonberry flowers. The hide was set on a hillock overlooking the forested river valley; we opened up the viewing ports but the distant view through the trees was mistily murky with no sign of any bird-life. In gloomy light we took our photos of the river-border and distant forests across in Russian territory (see left) (Photo 2 - Russian forests) and returned to the road. Back along to Vaggatem, we pitched again at Pasvik Camping; at least this afternoon the overcast conditions had been a little brighter and there had been no rain. As we sat tonight after supper (see right), by 10-00pm Norwegian time there was a visible sense of duskiness; last week around Inarijärvi we had already noticed the first golden birch leaves of autumn, what the Finns call Ruska. Tonight, despite it still being only early August, there was a real feeling of the year moving on towards Arctic autumn; summer simply had not happened this year, but the mosquitoes were still very much present.

Return along the bumpy Pasvik Valley road:  the following morning was still as gloomy as ever, now with drizzly rain. Before leaving we talked more with the campsite owner about life in the valley: winters were bitterly cold with typical temperatures of -40°C, but less snow than might be expected. She offered to transport us out to the Treriksrøysa in her vehicle, for the princely sum of 2,000 NOK (around £200!); the Three Countries Monument will have to remain one of those ever inaccessible aspirations! We said our farewells to Pasvik Camping, and before leaving Vaggatem, paused for photos in the Øvre Pasvik forests (see left) (Photo 3 - Pasvik Valley forests on a wet morning). After a brief and again disappointingly gloomy stay in the valley, we finally began the return along Route 885; it was going to be another long and bumpy drive 90 kms from our start point almost at the head of the Pasvik Valley. There was more traffic about this morning as locals from along the valley passed to and fro. With gloomy rain cloud and drizzle continuing, it took a wearying hour to reach Svanvik where we paused at the Co-op mini-market for a few items of provisions. Beyond the final Pasvik lakes, we said our farewells to the river which continued its wider course to flow into the Barents Sea east of Kirkenes at Jakobsnes where in early 20th century, sawmills had cut up timber floated downriver from around Inarijärvi. Route 885 rose over higher ground forming the watershed which divides the Pasvik from waters which drain into Langfjord to flow into Varanger Fjord west of Kirkenes. The road passed high above Langfjord, finally reaching the ugly scar of the Bjørnevatn iron mines spoil heaps where a mine truck was poised on the sky line to tip yet more waste rock, adding to this area of dereliction. We bumped along the scarred road relieved finally to reach the junction with E6's smoother tarmac at Hesseng, almost 2 hours after leaving the bottom end of the Øvre Pasvik Valley.

Around Varanger Fjord to Vestre Jakobselv:  setting the satnav for Vestre Jakobselv, we turned westwards on E6 (click on Map 2 at top right of page). The rain of earlier had eased and the sky a little brighter although still heavily overcast. Over the high ground past the airfield, the road descended to Neidenfjord and we kept up a steady pace around its shoreline to the Neiden river crossing at the E6/Route 893 junction. Here we paused for passing photos of the Skoltefossen waterfalls which looked totally monochrome in today's grey light (Photo 4 - Skoltefossen waterfalls) (see right). Traffic on E6 was surprisingly light as we continued westwards across the high fell-scape with its open vistas of distant higher fells across wilderness terrain. The E6 passed over areas of craggy hills enclosing elongated lakes, the birch trees here showing extensive blackening damage from defoliation by the destructive Autumnal Moth caterpillars.

The road descended to the southern shore of Varanger Fjord which from a distance, despite the grey gloomy sky, glowed a curious turquoise colour, as we had seen last year in Norway on lakes and fjords fed by waters rich in glacially-scoured sediment (see left). Along the shore-line of Varanger Fjord, passing through the occasional settlement, the road finally swung northwards around the head of the fjord to reach the road junction a Varangerbotn. Here we turned eastwards on E75 along the northern shore, the sky leaden-grey with heavy rain-cloud covering the southern shore-line, and the fjord's waters still glowing the opalescent turquoise colour, never before noticed here before. We passed through Nessby with its distant landmark church down by the fjord, and over higher ground by the Mortensnes nature reserve, finally reaching the scattered settlement of Vestre Jakobselv with its fish-drying racks and little harbour, around the mouth of the Jakobselva river. We turned up to Vestre Jakobselv Camping, now the only remaining campsite on the entire northern shore of Varanger Fjord, part of a Youth Mission Centre. As always we received a warm welcome and our details were still on their computer from our several past stays at what is without doubt one of Norway's most hospitable campsites; its good value price includes showers, wi-fi and use of the washing/drying machines.

Ekkerøy kittiwake nesting cliffs:  we reserved our pitch close to the facilities hut, and drove on the 15 kms to Vadsø, the main town and service centre along the Varanger Fjord northern shore. Reaching the little town, the number of dark-skinned immigrants, Somali or Ethiopian, was immediately apparent; from the heat of the Horn of Africa to the Arctic chill of Vadsø, they looked not a happy bunch. We continued ahead past the airfield up on the hill-top plateau and passed through the small fishing-farming villages with grazing sheep lining the road and dual warning-signs for sheep and reindeer. Some 12 kms further around the coast, we turned off onto the small peninsula of Ekkerøy with its fishing hamlet curving around the bay. As the ending -øy suggests, this was once a tiny off-shore island, now connected to the mainland by a sandy isthmus. The former fish and shrimp packing factory now houses a small museum devoted to the fishing industry which grew up in Eastern Finnmark and 19th century Finnish/Kven colonisation of the Kola/Petsamo Peninsula; this admirable little museum at Ekkerøy, welcoming and free-entry, gives an insightful history of this obscure and little known region of Petsamo and is well worth a visit. But the reason for our return today was to visit Ekkerøy's Nature Reserve on the cliffs which face south towards Varanger Fjord; during the March~August breeding season, colonies of some 30,000 pairs of Kittiwakes nest on the cliff ledges. Following the turf track around from the village, as we approached the line of cliffs, the sound of Kittiwake calls became louder, with snowy squalls of the flocking birds swirling around. Reaching the rocky beach, the entire cliff-face was covered with nesting birds (see above right), this year's young now grown to juvenile size still standing by the remains of filthy nests (see above left) (Photo 5 - Kittiwake colonies on Ekkerøy cliffs). Adult birds swooped in bringing back fish to feed the greedy youngsters (see right) (Photo 6 - Adult Kittiwakes returning with food). Kittiwakes spend the winter months out on the open sea, only returning in March to nest on the cliffs of Ekkerøy and rear their young, leaving again in August when the young are grown. We were just in time this year to see them on the cliffs; another week or so and they would have returned to sea for winter feeding. The air was filled with the shrieking Kittiwake cries, as adult birds swooped and dived to the nests and out again. Almost mesmerised, we stood photographing this thronging, shrieking mass of birds as they fed their young (Photo 7 - Juvenile Kittiwakes).

Back along to Vadsø we re-stocked with provisions at the Rema 1000 supermarket and returned to Vestre Jakobselv Camping (see left) where Sheila put on our next load of laundry in the campsite washing machine. It had been a satisfying wearying day with a long drive from what now seemed far-away Pasvik Valley, and with the still heavily overcast sky, the late evening was again dusky.

North to Berlevåg in wretched weather and poor visibility:  it seems repetitious to say it rained heavily during the night, but such was the frustratingly poor summer of 2015 that this morning George was sat in a 2 inch mini-lake of rainwater, and the sky as heavily overcast as ever. Vestre Jakobselv's showers had been upgraded since our last visit and on a chill morning the heating was most welcome. With murkily low rain-cloud shrouding the distant fells and soaking drizzle filling the air, we returned along the fjord-side E75 to Varangerbotn on a thoroughly miserable morning. In poor visibility we set off over the fells towards Skiippagurra. The birches along this stretch were totally devastated by Autumnal Moth caterpillar defoliation; all the dead and blackened trees presented a sorry sight. Dropping down to the road junction by the dreary-looking campsite at Skiippagurra, we turned north and pulled into the picnic area opposite the Tana Bru suspension bridge for our sandwich lunch; this lovely spot was a dreary, sodden place on such a wet and cheerless day. Beyond the bridge we continued north on Route 890, running alongside the wide, sandy estuary of the Tana River (click on Map 2 at top right of page), passing the farms along this lower stretch. The high fells on the far side of the river were almost totally hidden in rain cloud, and the high, craggy cliffs rising above this side of the river seemed even more menacing than ever in the dark, misty conditions. Beyond the turning to Høyholmen, the road rounded towards the village of Leirpollen, with low cloud covering the featuresome cliffs on the northern side of the fjord.

Beyond the Leirpollen farms, we passed the vegbom and began the long climb into the Kongsfjord fells, the weather now even gloomier with the rain-cloud almost down to road level. George tackled the steadily rising gradient resolutely as we gained height in the ever increasing misty conditions across the broad, treeless stony fells, empty of any sign of life and menacingly gloomy in the poor visibility. It seemed further than ever across the fell top plateau (see above right) before we finally reached the road junction at Gednje and turned westwards towards Berlevåg with 50 kms still to drive around the northern coast. As the road began the long descent into the rocky defile of Kongsfjorddalen, the all-enveloping mist became even denser, obscuring the mountainous surroundings. Dropping down towards the coast at Vesterbotn, visibility was even further reduced so that the houses of Kongsfjord were lost in the mist as we passed through. Never before had we driven around this magnificent coastline in such horrendous conditions. Along the far side of Risfjord, we rounded the point and cautiously edged through the tunnel (see above left), the road ahead totally obscured in the mist. Around Sandfjord bay and under the landward cliffs on the far side, we moved slowly along the Barents Sea northern coast (see right), fearful about the fragments of sea-urchin shells cracked by gulls for the soft flesh and now littering the road, each one a potential puncture trap. In such poor visibility (see left), it was impossible to see the lighthouse as we drove slowly towards Berlevåg passing a few bedraggled reindeer in the mist (Photo 8 - Bedraggled reindeer). We were relieved when at last we passed the far vegbom and the side-lane to the Hurtigrute quay; ahead the tetrapod memorial loomed out of the mist and we turned along to the familiar blue and white painted wooden building of Berlevåg Pensjonat og Camping.

Berlevåg Pension and Camping:  the rain of the last 48 hours had caused water-logging in the already limited camping area; the grass is inevitably always a little careworn, but this far north with snow covering the ground from November to May and Polar darkness for 2 months, it is a wonder the campsite has any turf at all. Weary after a long drive in such appalling conditions, we went inside the familiar pension, to be greeted hospitably and like old friends by the owner Dieter Salathe, of Swiss origin and quietly reserved but ever helpful and warmly welcoming. He brought us up to date with events of the last 12 months since we were last here in Berlevåg: the inner harbour was being extended for the still prospering fishing fleet, and new breakwaters were under construction. We again discussed the vagaries of the Hurtigrute's calling at the port and the financial impact on the commune of loss of harbour dues if the coastal steamer failed to call. With his customary hospitality, Dieter helped us to pitch, suggesting a flat and dryish spot by the pension building and organising a power connection, and we quickly settled to get out of the chill and soaking sea mist. We had never been at Berlevåg in what seemed to us such inclement weather, but compared with the conditions here of Arctic winter, in which men still went to sea for the fishing, a bit of sea mist really was nothing to complain about. That is one of Berlevåg's most endearing and humbling features: the conditions of living and working here on this barren and isolated Barents Sea coast 100 kms from the nearest inland settlement make Berlevåg an admirably self-sufficient and tight-knit community. With the sea still providing Berlevåg's major source of livelihood, fishing and fishing-support industries are the economic mainstay and major employers in this remote community. The little town with its boat repair yards and fish-processing factories is clustered around its inner harbour, a reinforced natural inlet of the Barents Sea, where the fishing fleets is moored. The outer harbour is enclosed and protected from savage Barents Sea storms by the 2 long arms of the harbour mole. From where we were camped, we could just about make out in the mist the distant gap in the outer harbour mole and the tetrapods from which the mole wall was constructed. Berlevåg's church stands up on the hill overlooking the town and harbour, with houses spread up the hill-side from the water-front. See right for an aerial view of Berlevåg fishing harbour, and click here for detailed map of Berlevåg.

The campsite's strong wi-fi signal covered the whole camping area, and after a fortnight of being without internet access, there was much to catch up with. Occasionally we peered out into the obscure misty surroundings from the snug warmth and comfort of the camper. That evening after supper, we sat listening to the wonderfully nostalgic music of the Berlevåg Men's Choir (Berlevåg Mannsangforening) singing their familiar songs from Knut Erik Jensen's 2001 film Heftig og Begeistret (Cool and Crazy), as the misty evening grew gloomily dusky. At 10-15pm we watched out for the arrival of the north-bound Hurtigrute coastal steamer which suddenly loomed out of the mist at the gap in the outer harbour mole like some mysterious sea creature, its lights twinkling in the gloom. We could not distinguish the ship's name but the 2 words suggested it was M/S Richard With, named after the originating founder of the Hurtigrute Line. The coastal steamer swung around in the outer harbour to dock at the Hurtigrute quay. Half hour later the south-bound boat appeared out of the mist as its north-bound sister departed, the 2 ships passing at the mole gap with the usual reciprocal fanfare of horns. Tonight in the chill, misty gloom, we watched this nightly passing of the north- and south-bound Hurtigrute from the snug comfort of the camper.

A sunny day (at last) around Berlevåg:  the following morning the cloudy sky was just breaking and the forecast warming, welcome sun beginning to shine through, the first time seemingly in weeks! Facilities at Berlevåg Pension-Camping were first class and the homely showers so welcome after so many primitive campsite showers recently. The fully equipped kitchen must be one of best campsite kitchens in the whole of Scandinavia. Although expensive at 260 NOK, Berlevåg Pension-Camping is certainly a well-run, hospitable and good value campsite, one of the best in Norway (Photo 9 - Berlevåg Pension-Camping) (see above left).

In remarkably warm sunshine we set off for our day around Berlevåg, firstly walking over to the headland both to see for ourselves what was happening with the harbour extension and to photograph the Arctic Poppies and Grass of Parnassus wild flora growing among the slatey rocks (see above right). The harbour-side workshops area was a mess with diggers loading heaps of excavated rubble lining the waterside into lorries. From a rig-like assembly out in the centre of the inner harbour, another digger was scooping rubble from the sea bed, presumably to deepen and widen the inner harbour and extend the moles to allow larger fishing vessels to dock here, hopefully good news for Berlevåg's fishing fleet and the town's economy (Photo 10 - Harbour excavations). In the bright sunshine, we took our photos looking across the fishing boats moored around the inner harbour set against the backdrop of Berlevåg's white-painted church up on the far hill-side (Photo 11 - Berlevåg inner harbour) (see left). We walked around past the fish-processing factories to Storgata on the far side of the harbour; the work of unloading, sorting and packing today's catch was completed, refrigerated trucks were moving off, and the empty boats stood moored at the harbour-side (Photo 12 - Berlevåg's fishing fleet) (see right). As we stood looking down over the harbour extensions excavations, the alert sounded for imminent blasting; the earth literally moved and the bang sent a flurry of gulls into the air in panic. We tried again to get haircuts at Berlevåg's frisørbua (hairdressers) but this year they were closed for holidays. Instead we went next door to sit in sunshine on the terrace of the Neptun pub to eat our lunch sandwiches with glasses of Macks beer, glancing at the elderly locals on the next table to see if any looked like stars from Heftig og Begeistret.

Up on the hill we stood at the church's front terrace looking down over the town's wooden houses towards the harbour mole and distant lighthouse, and the Barents Sea beyond, unusually a still calm in today's sunshine (see left) (Photo 13 - View over town and harbour mole). Back down into the town, we paid our respects at the memorial to men from Berlevåg who had died at German hands in the Kirkenes slave-labour camp during the WW2 occupation. Past the Sangernes Hus, headquarters of the Berlevåg Men's Choir, we cut through towards the harbour and the trackway leading around to the northern mole (see right). Out along to the end of the mole, built of the interlocking tetrapods, we could look out over the outer harbour as a tug towed a barge full of excavated debris from the harbour extension works to dump out at sea (Photo 14 - Berlevåg harbour mole). Back around Sjøgata (Sea Street) into the town, we shopped for provisions at the Spa mini-market and returned to camp around the inner harbour (Photo 15 - Berlevåg fishing harbour). With the sun still warm, we were able quite unprecedentedly this year to sit outside with mugs of tea, before cooking an exotic supper of whale meat stroganoff in the campsite kitchen.

Hurtigrute coastal steamers passing at Berlevåg:  later in the evening, the throb of a ship's diesel engines could be heard. It was only 10-00pm but we walked over, surprised to discover that tonight's north-bound Hurtigrute had already slipped into the outer harbour without our realising it and was already docked at the quay; it was early and there would be no passing of ships tonight at the harbour entrance. The sun had declined at a shallow angle and was now setting above the silhouetted outline of houses along the Berlevåg sky-line (see left) (Photo 16 - Setting sun over Berlevåg sky-line). As the north-bound M/S Nord Norge swung around from the quay and turned onto its departing course through the mole gap, we managed to get photos of the setting sun's golden light reflected along the coastal steamer's side, and of her heading away to sea en route to Båtsfjord (Photo 17 - Hurtigrute leaving Berlevåg ). In the distance, the misty shape of the approaching south-bound Hurtigrute could just be made out, as the 2 ships passed way out at sea tonight. M/S Richard With returning south from Kirkenes and seen last night on its north-bound passage, appeared at the far side of the mole gap to enter the outer harbour (see right), swinging around to its quay-side mooring and briefly caching the sun's now after-setting golden glow along its side. Both ships were early tonight. The liner backed from the quay and turned onto her departing course through the mole gap, to pick up speed away southwards, with the sun now fully set and the sky dusky dark.

The following morning was overcast but bright for our day in camp, to the constant background noise of harbour excavations. After supper we hurried over to the headland just in time as the north-bound M/S Trollfjord approached the mole gap to pass into the harbour with the setting sun's glow catching her side as she swung round to the Hurtigrute quay (Photo 18 - M/S Trollfjord catching glow of setting sun) (see left). 10 minutes later as she backed from her mooring, the south-bound M/S Nord Norge appeared in the distance well out to sea; again there would be no passing of ships at the mole gap tonight. Trollfjord swung around and Nord Norge made good progress, so that the 2 ships crossed just outside the harbour with the usual fanfare of horns. As Nord Norge prepared to depart, 2 of Berlevåg's larger fishing boats were approaching the mole gap. One just got through as the south-bound Hurtigrute swung around through the harbour entrance; the other paused to allow the coastal steamer through before entering the outer harbour, to form our final photographic shot in the gathering dusk tonight (Photo 19 - Hurtigrute and fishing boat passing at harbour entrance) (see right). We returned to the campsite in the dusky gloom of late evening, after our 3 day refreshing stay here at Berlevåg; tomorrow we should return south crossing back into Northern Finland at Nuorgam to camp at Utsjoki (click on Map 2 at top right of page).

Another gift of cod from Berlevåg:  after rain during the night, we awoke to a dull, grey morning again for our drive south. When we went into the pension to settle up our 3 days' rent, Dieter's wife Daniela gave us a copy of the Berlevåg community magazine with all its local news and announcements, and an aerial photo of the harbour showing details of the enlargement works: the harbour was being deepened to 7m with additional mooring to accommodate Berlevåg's increasing number of larger fishing vessels, and a 5m deep anchorage created for smaller boats. The inner moles were being strengthened and extended for extra protection against winter storms. The work had received government financial support and would bring much needed help to the community. Before leaving the town, we returned to the harbour to say hello to the Breton owner of Berle Fisk, the fish packing warehouse down at the harbour side, whom we had met on our last visit. He was not there today, but his staff promised to pass on our good wishes; they also presented us with a huge cod from last night's catch, for our supper tonight they said, refusing to take any payment. We finally - and sadly - departed Berlevåg or this year, having felt so very much at home in this hard-working community; when should we return?

Return drive to Tana Bru:  although overcast this morning, at least visibility was better for our return drive; we could actually see around the coast to the lighthouse. We wound our way around the sweeping bays among the jagged slatey rocks and over-towering cliffs, through the tunnel cut through the headland, and around the coast to Kongsfjord (see above left), to begin the long haul up onto Kongsfjordfjell. As we passed Vesterbotn to begin the climb of Kongsfjorddalen, a sea eagle soared overhead, its white tail clearly visible. A parked snow-mobile at the fell-top Sámi settlement served as a reminder of winter conditions up here (see right). We continued across the broad plateau to the road junction at Gednje and turned south, the narrow road stretching endlessly across the open fell-scape into the distance and loosing height gradually down to reach the first birches of the tree-line and the farms of the lower valley. The road passed around the Tana estuary finally coming within sight of Tana Bru.

Across the Finnish border at Nuorgam and along the Tana/Teno River to Utsjoki:  at Skiippagurra, we turned off onto Route 895 around to the national border just beyond Polmak, still following the River Tana (Norwegian)/Teno (Finnish) which forms the border between the 2 countries. On a minor road such as this, it felt as if we were slipping back into Finland by the back door! Just across the border at Nuorgam (see left), we paused to photograph the monument to Finland/EU's most northerly point (Photo 20 - Finland/EU's most northerly point at Nuorgam) and to advance our watches by an hour for the Finnish time zone. Beyond Nuorgam, we continued in now gloomy light on the Finnish Route 970 alongside the border River Tana/Teno renowned for its Alaköngäs salmon fishing rapids, eventually coming within sight of Utsjoki bridge just beyond where the Utsjoki River flowing in from the southern fells merges into the Teno. Reaching Utsjoki cross-roads by the bridge, we turned into the village and parked at the supermarket-cum-filling station. After a week in Northern Norway, with all the comfortable familiarity of the Norwegian language, it came as a momentary culture shock facing non Indo-European Finnish again. The Utsjoki supermarket is a veritable treasure-house Aladdin's cave, open 0900~2100 7 days/week, with every conceivable item on its shelves in addition to a good range of foodstuffs. Such cross-border shopping enabled us to stock up with our favourite provisions from both Norway and Finland. Having secured details for tomorrow's planned nature trail walk up into the Utsjoki fells from the Metsähallitus information hut across the road, we drove along to Utsjoki Lapinkylä Camping.

Utsjoki Lapinkylä Camping:  we had recollections from our last stay in 2012 of over-expensive prices, no wi-fi and ill-mannered reception staff at Utsjoki Lapinkylä Camping. But things had changed very much for the better: we were greeted by a smilingly helpful and welcoming young lady at reception, wi-fi now covered the site, and the charge was €22.50 including SCC discount. We pitched on the grassy area opposite the facilities huts with an open view to the surrounding fells (see right). Paul found every pretext for putting off the moment of tackling the enormous cod lurking in the bottom of its Berle Fisk plastic bag. Fortunately the campsite kitchen was well-equipped, and taking a selection of knives, he set about the job of butchering the monster fish (Photo 21 - Cod from Berleväg). Less than expertly (it has to be admitted), he severed the fish from its king-sized backbone and cut it into portion sized fillets, bagged up to provide us with 3 suppers, a tasty souvenir of our stay in Berlevåg and the generosity of Berle Fisk (see left). At last we could relax after an eventful day before cooking supper of cod freshly caught early this morning from the Barents Sea. And we raised our glasses in thanks, wishing continued success to the enterprising Ludovic Besnard at Berle Fisk. Tonight back in Northern Finland, Berlevåg seemed a different universe, but with ever-fond recollections; we hoped the harbour extension would be completed before winter sets in and would serve the town well.

The Utsjoki Nature Trail:  today we planned to walk the Utsjoki Nature Trail up into the fells above the village on the western side of the valley (Click here for map of Utsjoki Nature Trail). Just along the road from the campsite, a signpost marked the start of several trails leading up from Utsjoki into the fells including the 3.5 km nature trail (luonto-polku in Finnish). The map shows clearly that the route involved a significantly steep height gain up the wooded fell-side onto the high plateau, and an equally steep descent down Annagurra gulley back into the village. The path was well way-marked, rising steeply up the fell-side which, being located north of the taiga coniferous forest zone circling the northern hemisphere, is covered with low mountain-birch. The midges and blackfly soon became bothersome each time we stopped, forcing us to don midge-nets and cover exposed arms, neck and face with DEET. The path wound ever steeply up the wooded fell-side, gaining height quickly in a steady climb (see right). This was a real Lapland paradise of wild flora with Twinflowers, Mountain Heath, Lingonberry, Crowberry, Bilberry and Dwarf Cornel which were just beginning to form embryonic berries at the base of their florets (see left). Information panels, with English translation given in Metsähallitus leaflets, explained the post-glacial geological features of the fell-land landscape, resulting from the retreat of the 2 kms thick continental ice-sheet at the close of the last Ice Age 11,000 years ago. The abrasive power of retreating glaciation eroded mineral materials from the bed-rock such as gravel, sand, and clay particles; these mineral sediments mixed with older soils were deposited on the bed-rock as a crushed mass of lodgement till. The fell-side above Utsjoki was made up of this till soil laid down under or at the leading edge of the ice-sheet. The path passed through a gate in a reindeer fence which extended across the length of the fell-side. Alongside the fence were classic example of huge erratic boulders, gouged from the bed-rock by the powerful action of the continental ice-sheet and transported from their point of origin further south, either within or under the ice as the glaciers retreated; when the ice melted, the boulders were deposited on the basal till. The start point from which they were removed from their parent rock, and the distance transported is unknown. In the Utsjoki valley, glacial rivers flowing under the ice transported sand, gravel and other moraine materials, and deposited them to form esker ridges in the bottom of melt-water tunnels. These expanded and accumulated into sandy moraine deltas, later eroded to form river valleys such as the Utsjoki and Teno valleys.

Our path continued up the steep slope among mountain-birches, and gradually emerged onto a more open, treeless fell-top plateau. Rising now above the tree-line, we could look down and see in the misty distance the Utsjoki bridge and line of the Teno River valley (Photo 22 - Utsjoki bridge). As the almost tree-less fell-side opened up, the ground was covered with patches of Alpine Bearberry with ripening fruits (Photo 23 - Alpine Bearberry) just turning from green to red and some almost black-maroon fully ripe (see right). The way-marked path continued through birch scrub still gaining a little height; this was an eerily lonely place with little view of the terrain ahead, and we were thankful for trail markers and an accurate, detailed map (see left). The path emerged eventually at the Metsähallitus kota-hut by the small upland lake of Kalgujokilampi which filled a fell-side hollow at a meeting of paths. Here we began the descent which steepened into the Annagurra gulley whose enclosed sides were covered with Dwarf Cornel and Twin Flowers among the overhanging birches (Photo 24 - Annagurra gulley) (see below right). The path dropped in a series of steep steps down the length of the gulley, a sheer delightful route for decent, to emerge just above Utsjoki village school, from where a sandy track lined with shiny black ripe Crowberries led back along the road to the campsite.

It's the time of year in the Arctic north when the berries are ripening almost ready for berry-picking, and we have included a picture gallery of Wild Berries of The Arctic.

By the time we were back at camp, a warm sun was shining. The forecast for severe rain tonight scarcely seemed credible, but by 5-30pm the sky progressively darkened and by 6-00pm the rain started. And did it rain! The forecast given by the ever-reliable Norwegian Meteorological Institute was again impressively precise, with over 5mm of rain falling in the first hour. The campsite ground and roadways were soon waterlogged, with the rain driven by a chill Arctic wind. We cooked a warming supper of another portion of Berlevåg cod as the rain poured all evening - thoroughly miserable weather.

Utsjoki church huts:  the overnight rain had more or less left off this morning and the rain water drained away on the gravelly ground. Breakfast was accompanied by irritatingly persistent noise from nearby camping-cars; this increasingly regular nuisance factor on campsites, with uncontrolled barking dogs, undue volume from TVs, and inconsiderately over-loud conversation from people showing complete indifference to the feeling of fellow campers is becoming an all too frequent problem, reflecting the general absence of good manners and consideration for others which bedevils contemporary society. Are we the only ones to feel so offended by loutish behaviour?

Before moving on this morning, we drove 5 kms south from the village to revisit the Utsjoki preserved church huts set alongside Lake Mantojärvi opposite the 19th century Lutheran church up on the fell-side. The present church built in 1850 replaced the former wooden church of St Ulrika which was founded in 1700 to serve the far-flung parishioners of Utsjoki both indigenous Sámi and Finnish settlers. People travelled vast distances by boat, reindeer and sledge to attend church, market festivals and tax collection, and would often arrive the previous day needing overnight lodging. From the 18th century, a collection of wooden or turf huts grew up around the church to provide accommodation for those families travelling from remote parts of the parish. 13 of these huts have been preserved on the lakeside opposite the church (Photo 25- Utsjoki church huts). Just down the road the parsonage designed in 1843 by Engel is still the official residence of the Utsjoki pastor. Over in the lakeside meadow the wild flora was of as much interest as the huts: masses of juicy, ripe Crowberries, ripening Lingonberries, and plants of Alpine Gentian its blue flowers now long past. We walked around the church huts, and the natural beauty of the lakeside setting combined with the sense of social history that the preserved huts represent made this a memorable visit.

Back along to Utsjoki bridge, we pulled in opposite the border post, where the customs officer (Tulli in Finnish) came over thinking we were a cargo van ripe for inspection; he soon decided that not only were we simple-minded tourists, but also ones that drove on the wrong-side of the road! He made friendly conversation but with an edge of duty: were we from England? how long had we been in Finland? only 4 months; oh, so we lived here? no just travellers; we did not fit his preconceived categories, but he allowed us to park in his customs bay to photograph his border bridge (Photo 26- Teno Bridge at Utsjoki) (see right).

Route 970 along the Teno River to Karigasniemi:  we turned off onto Route 970 which ran high above the Teno River for the 100 kms drive down to Karigasniemi (click on Map 3 at top right of page). By now the cloud was thinning and sun beginning to break through, the hazy sunlight brightening the birch-covered fells on both sides of the river. Passing just the occasional fishing shack, Route 970 gave glorious views along the length of the Teno. The high, rolling birch-covered fells stretched away to the horizon, broken only by narrow ribbon of the road's tarmac and the wide river flowing past sandy banks (see left). Mile after endless mile we drove, following the border-river with sunlight brightening the vista of empty fells. As we advanced upstream, the river became wider and shallower, running amid sand-banks. Towards Karigasniemi, the road dropped down to pass river-side farm lands through a series of Sámi settlements: Nuvvos, Dálvados, Aittijoki, Nuorpiniemi, Outakoski, Akukoski, Piesjoki, Rovisuvanto, finally reaching the forested approach to Karigasniemi. It was 4-00pm by the time we finally turned down to Tenorinne Camping after this afternoon's long drive. We settled onto the grassy terrace overlooking the river used several times previously, and up at reception were greeted as always with welcoming hospitality by the son of the Lehtosalo family who had established Tenorinne Camping here back in 1966. After a walk along to the K-Market in the village, we settled in and brewed tea, looking out to the distant hill of Norway across the river. We were looking forward to our day in camp here at Teno-rinne (meaning appropriately Teno Banks) tomorrow.

A day in camp at Tenorinne Camping:  thinning cloud promised a fine day at last for our day in camp here at Tenorinne (Photo 27 - Tenorinne Camping), always considered by us as one of Finland's finest campsites (see above right). The sun broke through for a truly relaxing day, before tomorrow's long drive. With the mosquitoes now almost gone for this year, we celebrated by cleaning all the smears from weeks of killing mossies from the inner sides of George's windows and giving his windscreen a thorough cleaning. That evening we enjoyed a barbecue supper (see left), and as the sun declined along the river at 9-30pm we walked down to the banks of the Teno for sunset photos with the silhouette of a lone fisherman standing in the river lit by the golden trail of the setting sun (see right) (Photo 28 - Teno fisherman at sunset)

A long cross-border drive through Karasjok, across the Finnmarksvidda to Kautokeino:  we were up and away early, and although only August, the morning air had a chillness with signs of approaching autumn. For today's long cross-border drive beginning at Karigasniemi in Finland, we should cross back into Norway to Karasjok for the 120 kms drive over the high Finnmarksvidda fells down to Kautokeino, cross back into Finland at Enontekiö, and finally camp tonight at Karesuando, Sweden's northernmost village (click on Maps 3 and 4 at top right of page). Leaving Karigasniemi we crossed the border bridge over the Teno to drive along the lower stretches of the Karasjoki as it meandered through valley farm fields mown for winter silage to reach Karasjok. Beyond the Old Church and across the river, we turned off onto Route 92 past the Sámi Parliament to head out into wilderness terrain along the pine-wooded middle Karasjoki river valley (see left). The sun was bright this morning, lighting the distant wild fell-scape. The road followed the upper valley of the tributary Lesjoki and, beyond the Sámi settlement of Jergol, began the long climb into the empty wilderness of birch-scrub covered fells stretching away to distant horizons. The river's vast catchment area of marshes and lakes covered this open vista of fell-land, over-arched by a dramatic cloud-scape (see right). The road gained further height through the Sámi settlement of Suosjärvi, but so endless was the fell-land that the expected watershed simply failed to arrive. The waters of this empty wilderness plateau seemed to drain nowhere, but the map showed that this vast catchment area of lakes and marshes was all still draining eastwards into the Lesjoki and Karasjoki, eventually into the Teno/Tana and ultimately into the Barents Sea.

More height gain brought us to another Sámi settlement, but only from the map could we distinguish the change to westward draining water: the final lake of Lahpojärvi at last marked the watershed with the lake-system now draining westwards into the Altaelva river, eventually to flow out into Alta Fjord and the Norwegian Sea. Beyond the lake, the road descended steeply to cross the valley river to the road junction with Route 93. Right was north to Alta and we turned south along the valley towards Kautokeino. Passing the elongated river-lakes with their equally elongated Sámi name of Gnovdageaineatnu, we reached Kautokeino and pulled into the Rema 1000 supermarket for our final Norwegian provisions shop this year. An elderly lady in her traditional Sámi costume, bonnet and boots was just leaving the shop to clamber into her pick-up to drive home to her lavvu (see left and below right). Leaving Kautokeino, we began the 78 km drive to the Norwegian border and back into Finland. By now the bright sun of earlier had given way to gloomy cloud cover, giving the birch-covered fell-land a dull, grey, lifeless appearance, with nothing to distinguish Norwegian from Finnish fell and stone-fields after we had crossed the border.

Back into Finland at Enontekiö and into Northern Sweden at Karesuando :  passing through forests of elegant pines and candle-spruces, we finally reached the road junction at Enontekiö and turned along through the village, past the modern church with its slender spire, for our Finnish food shopping at the K-Market. Leaving Enontekiö we began the 62 km final stage of today's long journey along to Karesuando and our third Nordic country of the day. The sky was still dully overcast giving the forests a gloomy air. At the junction with Route 21/E8 we turned NW towards Kilpisjärvi. The road followed the winding Muonijoki river which forms the border with Northern Sweden and which eventually merges into the Toreälven to flow into the head of the Bothnian Gulf. Today we had followed 3 different river systems each flowing into 3 different seas. Along past Sámi settlements, we finally approached Kaaresuvanto on the Finnish side of the river, and turned across the border-bridge into Karesuando, Sweden's northernmost village at the top of the E45 Inlandsvägen.

Sandlövs Camping at Karesuando:  although having travelled through Northern Norway today, we were planning to return to Finland tomorrow for Kilpisjärvi, and despite all the changes of time zones today and tonight, we kept our watches on Finnish time for our overnight camp in Sweden tonight. Having checked the weather forecast using Karesuando TIC's wi-fi, we drove over to Sandlövs Camping on the corner opposite the church and pitched at the end nearest the TIC in the hope that their wi-fi would reach across the road. Although straightforward with rustic facilities, Sandlövs Camping is a lovely site set right opposite Laestradius' church by the Karesuando bridge, and always makes an enjoyable stay (see left); we booked in with the gentle elderly owner (Photo 29 - Sandlövs Camping). Just one other camper arrived tonight and after today's 260 km drive, we had this lovely spot almost to ourselves.

Finland's remote NW corner out at Kilpisjärvi:  having checked the forecast again this morning, our planned visit to the Treriksröset Three Borders Cairn was rescheduled to fit in with better weather tomorrow. We re-crossed the Muoniojoki bridge into Finland to resume our drive out to Kilpisjärvi, at the tip of Finland's remote NW salient. We had 2 planned stops on the long drive both of which we had learnt of from the ever-useful Crossbill Guide to Finnish Lapland. The first of these was the Markkina bird-watching tower 5 kms along E8 north of Kaaresuvanto. A board-walk led for some 300m along the banks of the Muoniojoki, where the marshy ground supported flourishing patches of Marsh Cinquefoil with its garishly dusky maroon star-shaped flowers (see right) and banks of Dwarf Cornel the berries now fully formed. The wooden tower overlooked the wide river on one side and a broad area of aapa marshes beyond the road. In May the area teems with waders and cranes, but in mid-August there was no bird-life to be seen. Resuming our drive, we crossed the broad tributary River Lätäseno which drains the desolate fell-land wilderness of NW Finland. The lonely E8 road followed the course of the Muoniojoki stretching endlessly across fell-scape, empty and uninhabited save for the occasional Sámi reindeer-herding settlement. This desolate landscape and distant higher fells was lit by today's sun to relieve the gloom.

Palsa mires:  some 50 kms further, just before the Sámi hamlet of Iitto, we reached today's second nature stop at an example of Palsa mires, large hummocky hillocks of peat overlying a permanently frozen peaty core within the permafrost, rising up within the surrounding wet peatland marshes. These are formed during bitterly cold, dry winters when the frozen core expands pushing the surface peat upwards and raising the mounds to a height of over 5m. The unfrozen surface layer of peat acts as an insulating blanket preserving the frozen core. A board-walk circled around the edge of the mire giving clear views of a number of Palsa mire mounds (Photo 30 - Palsa mires) in different stages of evolution: embryonic mounds just developing, those where the core was melting, and Palsas which had collapsed leaving just a flooded pit. At the far end of the board-walk we could examine the Palsas at close range where the surface of surrounding peat was dry and crunchy. Cloudberries flourished on the marshy peat alongside the board-walk and it was the time of year when the fruit should be ripening; either it was a poor summer for Cloudberries or they had all been picked.

Kilpisjärvi Retkeilykeskus (Trekking Centre):  from a high point overlooking Kilpisjärvi, the road descended steeply giving an extensive panorama along the length of the lake with the distant backdrop fells (see right). The Metsähallitus Information Centre at Kilpisjärvi confirmed times of the boat across the lake for the trek out to the Treriksröset tomorrow; we topped up our provisions at the K-Market (well-stocked for Norwegian cross-border shoppers), and continued along to Kilpisjärvi Retkeilykeskus (Trekking Centre), slowing for reindeer to trot across the main road (Photo 31 - Reindeer at Kilpisjärvi). The campsite tiered up the steep slopes of Saana Fell is geared to the ski trade, with wooden 'sheds' to which caravans are attached in winter; in summer these are all deserted and the grassless terraces rather austere. But the staff are welcoming and helpful and the outlook across the lake is glorious (Photo 32- Kilpisjärvi Retkeilykeskus) (see left). The higher terraces of the camping area, where we had previously camped, had plenty of space among the now deserted winter caravan sheds and we camped up here; the afternoon sunshine was bright and warm, lighting the magnificent view across Kilpisjärvi with the snow-covered Swedish and Norwegian mountains rising beyond and the nearer peak of Malla Fjell at the lake's northern end. Behind us the craggy cliffs of the 1,000m high Saana Fell rose sheer (see right). During the afternoon the sound of a reindeer bell announced the arrival of the reindeers that graze the site, and a large buck trotted past sprouting a regal set of antlers. That evening the sun declined across the lake with dramatically promising flare towards Malla Fjell, but at the last minute set into a dense bank of cloud.

A trek to the Treriksröset Three Borders Cairn:  after a very cold night camped on this exposed mountain side, we woke to a heavily overcast sky with the temperature inside the camper down to 11°C. The boat across Kilpisjärvi for the trek to the Treriksröset monument was not until 2-00pm so we had a morning in camp. Facilities at Kilpisjärvi Retkeilykeskus were mixed: being geared to winter trade, the campsite's WC/showers were modern, clean and heated, most welcome in this chill weather, but the kitchen/wash-up in a dilapidated hut was antiquated. A final check on the forecast showed the weather continuing overcast but with no rain and even a hint of sun mid afternoon just when we needed it. The same antiquated boat M/S Malla was waiting down at the landing stage just opposite the campsite (Photo 33 - M/S Malla), and was already quite full of fell-walkers. We boarded to wait for the same grumpy old boatman to come round and collect the €25 return fares. The cloud was heavier than ever with a brisk wind blowing from across the lake, raising spray as the boat chugged across to the inlet on the far NW corner of Kilpisjärvi lake.

The boat docked at 2-30pm on a headland just into Swedish territory where the stream marking the Swedish~Finnish border enters the lake, and we now had 2 hours for the 6 km round-trip trek out and back on the fell-land path before the boat returned across Kilpisjärvi at 4-30pm (Click here for map of trek to the Treriksröset). Recalling timings from our last visit in 2012, this meant 45 minutes for the outward walk, 30 minutes exploring around the Treriksröset monument, leaving 45 minutes for the 3 km return walk. The well-trodden track, muddy in places after recent rains with some board-walks, followed the line of the border reindeer fence, and the water course flowing down into Kilpisjärvi Lake which marked the actual line of the Finnish~Swedish border. The path therefore passed along the Swedish side of the frontier. There was no time to pause to admire the flora, and we kept up a brisk pace with one eye on the map and the other on watches, covering the first kilometre in 15 minutes and reaching the area of the 3 borders meeting point by 3-15pm.

The original monument had been erected in 1897 when a border commission between Imperial Russia and the Kingdom of Sweden had defined the exact border line between Sweden and the Grand Duchy of Finland and Norway which the two Great Powers controlled. Norway gained its independent statehood in 1905 and put up its own smaller monument; Finland finally secured its independence from Russia after the Bolshevik revolution in 1917 and the current Three Countries Cairn was erected in 1926, 9 years after Finland's independence. The border lines in this remote NW corner were consolidated between the 3 now independent states.

We clambered through the reindeer fence and out onto the board-walk towards the Treriksröset cairn set on an islet in Lake Goldajärvi. Given its significance, it really is an ungainly, inelegant monster of a monument: an enormous yellow-painted concrete conical object with the board-walk extending around it. The monument's setting however more than makes up for its unattractive appearance: looking across the board-walk, the conical stone was backed by a magnificent panorama of snow-capped peaks on the distant Norwegian sky-line (Photo 34 - Treriksröset monument). The sky was heavily overcast with a dramatically grey cloud-scape and a brisk north-westerly wind ruffling the lake surface and driving spray onto our camera lens. In this wind, it was also a precarious walk around the yellow cone to circle the board-walk through the 3 countries' coincidence of borders; and as we withdrew along the board-walk, this moment marked the beginning of our long southward journey home.

We kept up a brisk pace for the return walk, crossing the final peaty mound at 4-25pm, and as we descended to the lake shore, only at the last moment did the boat landing appear tucked away in a hollow. Thankfully and rather out of breath, we clambered aboard and the boatman steered M/S Malla away from the landing-stage to re-cross the lake with the sky brighter and the brisk NW wind now behind us. We had been fortunate with weather this afternoon: although gloomily overcast, there had been no rain, and despite the NW wind, not as chill as feared. Back at the Kilpisjärvi landing-stage, we plodded wearily back up to the campsite and stowed our kit, and a late afternoon sun managed to break through to brighten the dreary hill-side (see left) (Photo 35 - Late afternoon sun). That evening however the chill Arctic wind increased buffeting the camper on this exposed hill-side where we were camped.

Return to Sandlövs Camping at Karesuando:  after another cold and windy night, we woke to a gloomily overcast morning. But the chill NW wind kept the clouds moving with the sky-scape ever-changing from threatening dark to silver-grey with shafts of sunlight streaking though (Photo 36 - Dramatic sky at Kilpisjärvi) (see right). Setting off for the return drive along the Kökämajoki valley, the wide, open vista of dreary grey-green fells and stonefields was over-topped by a silver-grey sky, with the narrow tarmac ribbon of Route 21/E8 undulating its straight course into the far distance (see below left). Passing only the occasional truck, Norwegian caravan and ambling reindeer (see below left), we made our way back across this empty wilderness following the river border until, eventually crossing the Lätäseno River, we reached the area of birch-scrub on the approach to Kaaresuvanto. Crossing the border-bridge into Ruotsi (as the Finns call Sweden), we pulled into Sandlövs Camping, paid the 150 SEK for our second night's stay and settled in with the chill wind still blowing down the valley. By 6-30 that evening the Norwegian convoys began rolling in, and before long we were hemmed in between the metallic canyon walls of monster camping-cars on both sides, obliterating our light and view across to Karesuando church. At such close quarters, the exaggerated size of these ludicrous pantechnicons simply left us aghast with contempt that couples should choose to travel in such ostentatious, materialistic intemperance.

Over-expensive Hetan Lomakylä-Camping at Enontekiö:  the weather forecast for the coming week promised the beginning of a Ruska Indian Summer, but it had not arrived yet; we woke to another grey and overcast morning. Or perhaps the outside world was in fact enjoying sunshine which we were unable to see being confined between the overshadowing walls of monster camping-cars. By the time we had completed our washing-up and showers, the pantechnicons had departed back to Norway, restoring our daylight and view of Laestadius' church. Re-crossing the Muoniojoki bridge into Finland, we turned SE following the river-border. At a road-side Sámi food-stall, the smoked fish and tubs of freshly picked cloudberries all looked attractive, but the prices were geared to Norwegian cross-border affluence, certainly beyond our pocket! The sun was desperately trying but not succeeding to break through the cloud cover. Continuing through the forests to Palojuensuu, we turned off onto Route 93 back to Enontekiö. After a call at the ever-helpful Pallas-Yllästunturi National Park Information Centre and the village K-Market for provisions, we booked in Hetan Lomakylä-Camping near Ounasjärvi lake. The cost had risen from an already expensive €23/night in 2012 to €26 today for what was a mediocre campsite; our comment on an 8% increase in charges was met with a shrug of indifference, with prices matched more to Norwegian affluence, or was it just simply greed. We settled in to the upper camping area to be within reach of the wi-fi; by now the sky had fully cleared and bright sun shining, and at last the mossies had gone - almost! The evening remained clear as the sun set around 10-00pm.

Pyhäjoki Nature Trail in Pallas-Yllästunturi National Park: the clear sky produced a chill night, but this morning we were woken by the unfamiliar phenomenon of warming sun. Through Enontekiö, we continued ahead on Route 965 through delightful forested sandy heath-land (so archetypally Finnish Lapland) (click on Maps 4 and 5 at top right of page). Passing through the Sámi hamlet of Vuontisjärvi, the road swung SW through more open farming countryside with the distant Pallas-Yllästunturi high fells gracing the southern sky-line (see above left). At the next village of Peltovuoma, Route 957 swung SW through further forested terrain to cross the now wide and fast-flowing Ounasjoki river (see right). We paused here for photos but Paul's camera lens, which had been giving trouble for the past 2 weeks, now seized up totally. It was precisely this Sunday that we had passed this way 3 years ago in 2012, when we had seen the snow-pole setting lorry at work. This year however, despite such a disappointing summer, the birches were still fully green with not a trace of Ruska gold colours; the snow-poles would not be needed for a while yet. This morning's sunshine lit the surrounding forests, casting long shadows of the tall candle-spruces, making the drive along this deserted road a sheer delight (see above left). As we headed along the Ounasjoki valley, candle-spruces increasingly became the predominant trees with their elegant profiles silhouetted against the clear blue sky (see left) We also passed a number of reindeer trotting along the road (Photo 37 - Passing reindeer).

Reaching Pallasjärvi lake, we pulled into the parking area for the Pyhäjoki Nature Trail. Such navigational precision after an 80 km drive, accurately plotting a precise spot in the midst of featureless wilderness forests with the aid of sat-nav and GPS latitude/longitude coordinates, was so satisfying. We booted up and set off to walk the 3.5 km circuit through these lovely spruce forests of Pallas-Yllästunturi National Park (Click here for map of Pyhäjoki Nature Trail). The national park's emblem (see right) incorporates Snow Buntings which breed on the open fells of Northern Lapland. The path followed the lower course of the fast-running Pyhäjoki brook through herb-rich spruce forest, but at this time of year all the wild flora was well past. Across the first wooden foot-bridge, the path passed through a lush grove of Ostrich Fern, and beyond the second bridge began to gain height. So far the Bilberry ground-cover had few berries, all green and unripe. On this more open slope however, where sunlight filtered down through the trees, we reached banks of Bilberry with masses of ripe berries. Recalling our successful berry-picking here in 2012, we had brought plastic pots today and set to gathering Bilberries for breakfast (Photo 38 - Bilberry picking).

As we gained height up the forested slope, spruce were replaced by pines (see left) and the path contoured round the steep-sided hill to cross one of Pyhäjoki's side-steams. The route now dropped down the craggy slope to reach the point where the Pyhäjoki emerged from a dark pool within a mountain hollow, the waters sparkling in the afternoon sunshine as they descended from their gathering areas high on the Pallas-Yllästunturi fells (Photo 39 - Pyhäjoki brook). The Pyhäjoki brook tumbled from the pool, crashing down into a rocky gorge to flow down through the spruce forests we had passed through earlier. Our path mounted the craggy slope and continued ahead through the higher spruce forest, to emerge into more open marshy meadows which it crossed on a board-walk. It was here in 2012 that we had found ripening Cloudberries. There were still plenty of Cloudberry leaves alongside the board-walk, but with such a poor summer this year, we were not expecting to find any fruit. Part-way across however we began seeing reddish-orange berries, partially ripe but still not quite ripe enough for gathering. But then we found a few fruits that were fully ripe and soft, ready for eating (Photo 40 - Ripe Cloudberry fruit) (see ripe); Cloudberry fruit has a very distinctive taste, almost honey-like with a smooth texture and large, hard seeds. We continued across the hay meadows hoping to gather Juniper berries for our cooking stocks but, unlike 2012 the berries this year were all green and unripe showing not a hint of their blue ripening. Despite this disappointment, today's berry picking of Bilberry and Cloudberry had been profitable.

South to Kittilä and Kittilän Lomamökit-Camping:  down past Jerisjärvi, we joined the main Route 79 expecting in the bright sunlight to see the beginnings of Ruska golden colours on the birches as in 2012, but this year they still showed untainted summer green. Even so this was a good road, surprisingly quiet and passing through magnificent spruce forests which extended in an uninterrupted vista of trees over distant fells. The frequent elk warning signs did however cause us to be wary on the approach to Kittilä. This small town's buildings are all blandly modern after the total devastation left behind by retreating Germans in late 1944, and the evacuation of the town's civilian population to Sweden as we had seen at Gällivare museum in 2013. We turned off across the now wide Ounasjoki river to Kittilän Lomamökit-Camping, and settled into the gravelled camping area behind the flood levée on the banks of the Ounasjoki river where the supposed wi-fi signal was just about detectable. That evening the sun declined along the river and set at 10-00pm leaving the sky with a ruddy glow.

We woke to a gloriously sunny morning and virtually midge-free at last, and we celebrated with breakfast outside on the river bank with bilberries picked yesterday at Pyhäjoki (see above left). Apart from the distant sound of traffic on the Sodankylä road, it was a lovely peaceful morning for our day in camp here. Facilities at Kittilän Lomamökit-Camping had been improved since our last stay here in 2012 but not sufficiently to justify the undue increase in prices to €25. The weather remained gloriously sunny, and we ended the afternoon sat with a beer up on the levée looking out across the Ounasjoki.

We shall continue our southward journey firstly visiting Santa at his Office near to Rovaniemi, enjoy walking and a wild-camp in the Napapiiri Hiking Area, visit Kemijärvi and the Auttiköngäs and Hepoköngäs waterfalls, south to Oulu our favourite Finnish city, stay at a couple of our favourite Finnish campsite at Matkatupa and Ristijärvi, and enjoy a peaceful stay and make new friends at Vuokatinranta Camping near the ski-resorts of Sotkamo and Voukatti. But that is all for the next edition which will be published soon.

Next edition to be published shortly

Sheila and Paul

Published:  5 February 2016

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