If you were to ask a child to tell you all about Christmas, what would they say? The first thing you’d hear blurt excitedly from their lips would undoubtably be “PRESENTS!” They would then probably tell you all about Father Christmas with his elves in the North Pole, that’s a given. I think they’d also tell you about Rudolph and his gang of reindeer friends. Snow is also on every kids wish list during the festive season, although we barely ever seem to get snow any more, let alone a white Christmas. So what’s the only way to guarantee all these things actually feature in your Yuletide celebrations – a trip to Lapland of course!
When we booked this trip almost a whole year ago, the travel times seemed sensible. It was a midday departure from Bristol, meaning we could get to the airport by 10am – easy. And yet the travel gods turned against us at some point during the last 11 months, and changed the departure time to 8:05am. This meant getting to Bristol airport by about 5:30 in the morning. Now I don’t mind an early morning, in fact I quite like making the most of a day. Setting the alarm clock for 2:30am however, now that is definitely out of my comfort zone!
“It’ll all be worth it when we get there” was our mantra as we tackled the two hour journey to the airport through a perfectly timed pea-souper of a foggy morning (just to make it that little bit more perilous!).
We were meeting my parents at Bristol airport – they had agreed to come with us when we booked it all the way back in January, although they’re probably regretting it at this point as we all blearily make our way, half asleep, through an airport breakfast. The flight to Kittila airport in Northern Finland is only around three and a half hours, so all being well we’d be tucked up in our alpine hotel mid afternoon somewhen. Or so we thought. Once again Lady Luck had other plans for us. We did indeed reach Kittila in just over three hours, and then immediately entered a holding pattern. This airport is no ordinary airport, we are way above the Arctic Circle here, and would you believe it, the runway had frozen solid in the -20 degree chill, preventing us from landing. The pilot let us know they were frantically attempting to de-ice the tarmac below us as we circled helplessly above, but alas we didn’t have enough fuel on board to hang around for more than 20 minutes. So we headed back to Rovaniemi airport, 100 miles to the south to “figure out a new plan” as the pilot put it! Obviously you can’t help the weather, but this on top of the lack of sleep did not make for a great start to the trip! To try and make everyone feel better about the delay, the pilot did let all the kids queue up for a look around the cockpit while we were stranded helplessly on the tarmac for the next two hours. This seemed to work quite well at distracting everyone from the situation at hand – I guess British people do love a good queue, and having something to moan about at the same time, perfect!
Eventually the news came down the wire that Kittila had finally been thawed out. Well, thawed out enough to allow us to attempt a landing at least. And before long we were in the air again, en route to our original destination. Thank god for that, I had secretly been worried that the alternative would have been to make the final part of the journey by road, meaning an extra 3 hours at least on a coach with a plane load of angry Bristolians in Christmas jumpers!
They had warned us that it was going to be cold in Lapland, and that they were going to provide us with snow suits and snow boots. What I hadn’t realised though, was that this happened immediately after collecting your baggage. We were ushered into a warehouse next to the terminal which I can only liken to some sort of festive boot camp. Each family was assigned a “sack” into which was deposited your correctly sized Arctic uniforms, all in a very military and efficient manner. The whole process was not dissimilar to the sort of chaos you encounter when trading your shoes for skates at an ice rink, almost like an uncomfortable game of musical chairs as everyone jostles for space.
The bus transfer to the hotel was a typically festive affair also, rife with the sort of camp camaraderie you would expect of a package tour transfer bus. Why in the name of all that’s holy they couldn’t just let the fifty passengers wallow in the collective misery of a hideously long day of travelling, I don’t know. Instead our Elf host, Snow Fairy insisted on engaging us all in a rousing round of Christmas songs and a bizarre game of “Pass the Mitten” (don’t even ask). Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s part of the Christmas package, and I love a bit of cheesy fun, but I’m not sure most people were still in the mood by this point.
After what seemed like the hundredth round of hilarity that is “Pass The Mitten”, we finally made it to our hotel just in time to check in and grab an evening meal and a well deserved drink. After an initial mix up of placing us in different hotel buildings (one of which was a 10 minute, sub-zero shuffle down an icy main road away!), a quick room change later and we all managed to make it to the restaurant just in time before they shut.
Blimey, what a day. It shouldn’t have been that hard really, but sometimes you’ve just gotta roll with the cards you’re dealt. Never mind, we’re here now, nestled snugly inside the arctic circle for a few days of proper Christmas fun. Off to bed we trotted, the next day we were booked in for our appointment with the big man himself and the kids needed their beauty sleep.
The following morning we all met bright and early at the breakfast buffet, snow gear in hand, ready for our first day of fun at the North Pole. It’s no mean feat getting togged up for a day out when it’s 18 below outside. I guess you’d get pretty used to it if you lived up this way, but it’s hard work when you’re not used to it. And the lack of daylight is slightly unsettling. We arrive at the Snow Village at around 10am, and it’s still a kind of hazy twilight outside. We had about an hour to explore the ice hotel and it’s amenities before our designated slot to see Santa himself, so we had a wander through the icy passageways to marvel at this frozen palace.
Here you can find an indoor ice slide, an outside sledging area, a traditional Sami ceremony tent and even an ice bar for a chilled shot of vodka served in a carved ice cup. You can also check out the bedrooms where the overnight guests will be brought in to spend the night after the daytime visitors leave. They build this hotel every year, and to get a head start on the season they’ve got a pretty cool method of producing the ice and snow. The water is pumped up from the local river and blasted through snow cannons to rain down as snow. It is then compacted into ice and formed in giant moulds ready for the ice artists to perform their magic on the impressive wall decorations. The end result is pretty stunning, although I think I’d rather be tucked up in our cosy hotel at the end of the day!
The time arrives to see Santa himself, and as we wait patiently we see someone handing out marshmallows to toast over the brazier. The kids excitedly ask for one and are already toasting before we realise that this isn’t part of the attraction – they’ve actually just cadged a few marshmallows off a well prepared family instead. I apologised and congratulated them on their foresight – perhaps they should be selling them instead I jokingly suggested (I would have paid as I’m sure most other parents would have!) . Soon we were whisked away through the snowy forest on a snowmobile before arriving at Santa’s cabin where we are greeted by an elf handing out hot berry juice and cookies to warm our cockles as we wait our turn. Santa was amazing, the picture-book perfect image we all know and love, and he was extremely engaging with the kids. The look of wonder and awe that crept over both their faces as they sat there talking to Santa Claus, two days before Christmas and in the North Pole no less, is precisely the reason we’ve made this trip to begin with. You can see the magic is still alive and well within them, and the timing couldn’t really be any better, who knows how much longer that will last, and when it’s gone then it’s gone forever.
Christmas gift in hand, and with a magical glow on all our faces (even the grandparents) we make our way back to the snow village for a chilled shot of vodka, another bout of sledging and one more go on the ice slide before our visit to see the huskies.
These hardy animals are an arctic staple and are still used throughout the region for transport. They are the perfect mix of strength and endurance allowing them to run for hours in the sub zero temperatures. There is a palpable frenzy among the dogs as we approach, these are not the sort of animals to simply lie down and relax between sled rides. Instead they are howling and panting while play fighting in eager anticipation of the next five minute ride around the track. You can embark on a full two hour safari if you like, which involves driving the dog team yourself while standing on the rear of the sled with a passenger in front of you. We opt instead for the five minute taster instead as we don’t have enough time today, but it’s enough to get an idea of these animals and their capabilities.
After a quick multi-generational snowball fight and a quick visit to the gift shop, it was back to the hotel for lunch and a few hours of downtime before our final activity for the day – visiting a working reindeer farm and taking part in a night time reindeer sleigh ride.
The bus arrived to pick us up, and we braced ourselves for another 30 minutes of festive I-spy while the driver braved the snowy roads. Luckily we managed to sit at the back this time and avoid direct eye contact! Driving on these roads doesn’t seem to pose any problems, which seems amazing as we are all used to complete gridlock at the slightest hint of snow in England. It doesn’t even seem very slippery, and doesn’t hinder the coach driver in the slightest as he thunders along the icy road.
When we arrived at the reindeer farm we were split into two groups, with our group being led off to do the sleigh ride first. We were snugly tucked into our sleighs under layers of reindeer skin before being whisked through the frozen night. It was a very serene experience, but I felt it would have been more enjoyable in daylight as it was a fairly cloudy night with not much natural light. Had it been clear I think we would have been treated to a more perfect view of the forest and frozen lake by the light of the moon and with a perfect starry sky. There is also the distinct possibility of seeing the northern lights, but alas not tonight. Instead we only really had a view of Comet’s butt as he pulled the sleigh in front of us!
After our sleigh ride we were invited into the farmers hut to sit around the open fire with a freshly brewed coffee and chat about the inner workings of the farm. The lady farmer explains how absolutely nothing goes to waste up here in the arctic (while she stood there in some awesome looking home-made reindeer skin shoes), with even the blood being used to make pancakes. There are skins for sale hanging on the walls, and of course I couldn’t resist – we now have a footstool rug named Rudolph!
Our final activity here is meeting the reindeers in the pen outside, and feeding them their favourite snack of dried moss, which seems like reindeer catnip as the hilariously cross-eyed animals make a beeline for anyone holding a fistful of this tasty plant. Apparently these are the friendly females, as the larger males can be a bit too aggressive. Probably a good idea with all these kids around.
That’s it for the first day, it’s back to the hotel for a buffet dinner and a good nights sleep after a pretty action packed day in the snow. Just time for Bam and I to try out our hotel room sauna, which proves to be a massive hit. She loves a good pampering this girl!
Day two is Christmas Eve, and a much more laid back affair after the various activities of the first day. We all get a good lie in and make it downstairs for the end of breakfast. On the agenda for day two was only one activity – skiing. Kate has been skiing before, albeit about a quarter of a century ago. But that trumps my experience of a few trips to the dry ski slopes in my youth, so she’s the expert among us! What I had under anticipated was the amount of effort it takes to just get ready for this activity. After being fitted out for the kit and bought our ski passes for the day, we made the slow walk over to the slopes. Walking anywhere in ski boots is a pain in the butt, but walking ten minutes in them while carrying your skis and your bag and the skis of your kids (because they’re too busy mucking about in every snowdrift they find) is positively hard work. Eventually we made it though, and what followed was the comedy of everyone learning how to attach their skis without falling over, and without immediately sliding straight down the slope. After 15 minutes of tuition on how to walk sideways, and importantly how to “snowplough” to a stop from our resident expert, we were ready to try slowly sliding down the first 10 metres or so. To be honest, the whole process of skiing, at least to a rudimentary level, is fairly intuitive, and within about an hour we were all able to ski down the nursery slope whilst under some form of controlled braking! Time for a quick hot chocolate break down at the pub where my parents were (sensibly) watching all the action around an open fire place, before coming back and actually using the ski lift to access the top of the training slope – eeek!
The first obstacle to overcome was the actual ski lift itself, which was a travelator you had to ski onto. Sounds easy, but it’s fairly unnerving the first time round, and god help you if you fall off and end up in a heap at the side as the people behind desperately try to avoid being impaled by your flailing skis. Having mastered the ski lift with only a few travelator calamities (not naming any names – ahem, Kate), by the end of the first day we were all easily skiing down the baby slopes, and even managing a slight slalom on the way! What amazed me the most was the kids were eager to keep going. Bam especially amazed me, as she is normally the first one to shirk out of an activity if too much hard work is involved, but she was up and down like a yo-yo. Now for the awkward walk back to the hotel wearing the hideously uncomfortable ski boots. That’s it for today, one more sleep until the big day. The kids are excited, but they’re not the sort of kids to be wetting themselves with anticipation on the night before Christmas. In fact I don’t think they’ve ever been the first ones up on Christmas Day. I remember as a child my brother would wake me up at about 4am, positively frenetic with excitement, to creep downstairs and poke tiny holes in the wrapping paper to work out what Santa had brought us. These two on the other hand need to be physically dragged out of bed, even on Christmas morning. Good job really, just time for a sauna after dinner and a good nights sleep.
Just before we headed to bed, I thought I’d step out onto the balcony to have a look if the Aurora Borealis had made an appearance. At first glance I was out of luck. However as I stood there, staring into the snow covered distance I could make out some faint shapes shimmering in the sky, as they slowly started to intensify I took out my phone to grab a picture and, lo and behold, the most beautiful streaks of green light were dancing all over the sky. It’s not quite what you expect, all the pictures you see make it look like some kind of heavenly disco, but it’s more subtle than that to the naked eye. But when you use a long exposure you can capture it in the same way we normally see it in the pictures. Luckily everyone was still awake and we were all able to witness the northern lights over the skies of Lapland on Christmas Eve. Perfect!
We woke up on Christmas morning to the sound of two snoring kids, just as predicted. I would normally leave them to have a lie in, but unfortunately I can’t as we have arranged an early morning snowmobile tour. We all met for an early breakfast with our snow gear to change into in the lobby. When our guide arrived, we set off to their office at the base of the ski slopes to kit ourselves up in balaclavas and helmets for the mornings adventure. Apparently the mercury was going to sink as low as minus 25 where we were heading. As the sky lightened, we were led to our convoy of snowmobiles to set off into the wilderness. The kids were sat in a sled towed behind the guide, while Kate and I had one snowmobile, and my parents brought up the rear in another. We initially rode for half an hour through the tracks surrounding the town. These machines are surprisingly agile and manoeuvrable, and it was an easy but fun experience. One of the other members of our party had been so eager to jump on the first snowmobile at the start to secure his place at the front of the convoy, evidently secure in his belief in his own abilities. I guess he didn’t find it quite so easy though, and as his ambition outstripped his talent he suddenly veered off the road and buried the front of his machine into a snowdrift. After he was helped out of his predicament and we carried on, his driving style had altered to a much more sedate and cautious one.
There was soon a chance for a quick toilet break in the most remote outhouse I have ever witnessed. Eventually we made it to a clearing for a quick rest and a phot opportunity before carrying on to the spectacular frozen lake. By this point the sky had turned the most fabulous shade of pink I have ever seen. All the surrounding hillsides including the towns imposing ski slope were all lit up by this natural phenomenon – what a fantastic view for a Christmas morning, slightly more impressive than a wet and windy Dorset.
The kids had played in the snow so much during the various pit stops that the snow had made its way into their gloves and they were starting to slowly freeze from the inside out, so after a quick glove change we hit the road again for the half hour ride back to base, just in time to witness the sun make an appearance over the horizon for the first time in several weeks.
What a morning. We headed back to the hotel for a quick break and to warm up. For our Christmas Day afternoon activity we were all going to head up to the top of the mountain on the gondola for a view from the almost 800m summit of the Yllas Fell. The slopes look impressive from the ground, but from up here it’s almost surreal, and incredibly beautiful. Obviously this is just a ski slope, and people do this all the time. But I have never been skiing before, and quite frankly it took my breath away. If you ignored all the people behind you and simply stared into the distance, it felt like you could be an intrepid explorer having just conquered a hitherto undiscovered mountain as the frozen wind stings your face. Until a six year old shoos you out the way as he zooms past on his snowboard and disappears over the top, just to shatter the illusion and make you feel really small!
We didn’t ski down, none of us felt confident enough for that yet! Instead we headed back to the bottom in the safety of the gondola and had a few more hours on the nursery slopes building up some more confidence so that maybe next time we might have developed bigger cojones! By the end of the day, Hunter is even tackling the small jumps and rails!
Christmas Day in the hotel was to end with the “Festive Finale”, as it had been billed by the holiday reps. This incredible finale actually consisted of a mediocre Christmas buffet followed by a brief kiddie disco and a rather lacklustre fireworks display. But to be fair, the kids loved it, and what could be better really. Christmas in Lapland, with your family, without having to cook or clean up, and after spending the whole day having fun in the snow. We had a few drinks together as a family, wished each other a merry Christmas, and retired to our rooms to marvel at the beautiful Aurora Borealis one more time from our balcony.
Boxing Day was home time. We were treated to one last buffet breakfast ( I need a break from those anyway!), before our transfer coach whisked us off to the airport amid a final flurry of the festive stalwart that is “Pass the Mitten”.
Lapland, you were amazing. Despite the rocky start I think I can safely say that was the best Christmas I’ve ever had.