It rained.
It rained hard.
It rained all day and all night.
We changed our plans.
Kuopio was the best till then camping site with every facility. A top quality Spa town with smokehouse sauna, and lake - very lovely - but expecting it to rain all week!
We left and drove west to the wilds of Lapland.
The previous night had been a different experience.
John wanted to visit Sibelius’s home at Järvenpää. Another lakeside site.
‘It’s a camping slum.’ I said as we drove up. John agreed.
It looked as if many caravans were derelict in long grass while kids made forays among the tyres around those that seemed occupied.
The reasonable washrooms were being trashed. Drains covers removed, cigarette smoke in the air, pink carpets in the clothes-only washing machine, tampon holders and toilet rolls flung across the floor. In the men’s washroom a toilet cassette rested on the dish-washing sinks. I felt decidedly trepidatious about using the washrooms as they had clearly been taken over.
A car with four young men in it circled our campervan slowly. After a while it drove off stopping first to collect a naked woman in a dressing gown.
‘Ah – off to the sauna.’ I said hopefully, but in half an hour it was back with the occupants and cans of drink from a local store.
‘Will we be safe asleep?’ I asked John.
‘We’ll be woken by men asking us to pay for the new asphalt roof on the van I expect.’ John reassured me.
In the morning there was a police car cruising the site but thankfully, no tar around the van.
Next the Finnish manager came to collect our dues.
‘You are also English?’ he asked insinuatingly.
‘We are not Irish.’ said John very firmly.
‘Yes’ said the owner, ‘They come every summer to work on the roads. I don’t know if they pay tax here, but they pay me.’ And he wrapped his gold-ringed fist around our money and went off without giving us a receipt.
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