Ilomantsi: Views and dolls

Lake Ilomantsi sparkles in the late afternoon sun. I have to shade my eyes, the light is so bright. The lakeside footpath leads me close to a hotel and an asphalt road but I choose a grass covered path up the hill instead.

There are a couple of hares jumping on the hillside where the grass is longer. The pasture and the old drying barn again makes me imagine I've stepped back in time. This open space where the only sound you hear is pretty much just the wind. Wish I had a picnic basket with me! This would be a perfect spot for a lazy day out in the sun.

On the other side of the open hillside there is an orthodox cross with its typical Karelian decorations. The cross stands on the hill where Ilomantsi's first Orthodox churches were since the 15th century until 1794. However, there is another memorial right next to it: also the first Lutheran churches stood here. The first one was built in 1653 and the fourth and last one of them burned down in 1794.

I walk up the hill, my shoes getting moist in the grass. When I arrive at the first house, the path winds to the left and goes round the garden, taking me to Papintie (Vicar's road) which leads to an old water tower. Today the water tower is better known for another liquid: it is called Viinitorni (Wine Tower) because there is a wine bar / café at the top!

In the summer, the wine tower is open daily and there is a good selection of local produce available: for example wine. However, remember that local wine is not made of grapes (for which the climate isn't exactly ideal) but of local farmed and wild berries! While sipping your drink you can get a great view to every direction. Ilomantsi area is indeed full of forests, no matter which way you look.

I walk down the spiral steps and return to the ground. This late afternoon offers also some entertainment: there is a cultural event on Kauppatie street so I get to taste some more Ilomantsi. Like delicious fresh pancakes made of birch sap, served with homemade jam! Nukke- ja nalletalo (Doll and Teddy Bear House) displays thousands of dolls and teddy bears among which there are for example Karelian dolls that have been made without a needle or scissors.

In another museum / gallery at Kauppatie 30 there is also an amazing selection of hand-made dolls. When I enter the gallery, the only couples dancing to the live music are the carefully crafted unique dolls, but it wouldn't surprise me if someone else started dancing too.

However, on the other side of the room there is a scene from a church, with a sermon going on. I hear some other visitors spotting a familiar face or two among the churchgoers; there is at least one Finnish politician I recognize as well.

Finnish painter Helene Schjerfbeck's painting Tanssiaiskengät (Dancing Shoes, 1882) comes alive through Ippa Särkkä's wonderful doll and there are many other unique creations that are real masterpieces. Wow!

I spend the evening strolling on Kauppatie and nearby, hear about local bard Mateli Kuivalatar's life on a guided visit to her grave and memorial, have another great pancake. Last, I head for a final view of Lake Ilomantsi and the setting sun. Slow is good. And Ilomantsi... ilo means joy, so I'd say Ilomantsi is joy.

Ilomantsi: Kokonniemi cemetery walk

I push open the white wooden gate to Kokonniemi kalmisto, or cemetery, at Ilomantsi, Karelia. Which way to go? I choose the path turning to the left and step on the solitary path; there is nobody else walking here among the dead. Kokonniemi has served the local Orthodox community as a cemetery for centuries. However, these days there are rarely burials here anymore because the local parish has another cemetery nearby.

The traditional wooden Orthodox cross with  the simple yet beautiful carvings is the very first thing I notice. Someone has tied a linen cloth, tuulipaikka, on the horizontal crossbeam, for remembrance.  

On this cemetery you can see lots of variations of graves. Some families have reserved a very large area for there use...

...whereas most graves, especially the older ones, are usually marked with a simple cross or stone only. Mr Sallijeff, a local merchant has lain here for over 100 years.

Iivar Surakka (died in 1917) has had to do with a plain wooden cross which is half rotten already.

There are also some more regular looking granite gravestones that you can see on any graveyard in Finland. However, here even they look more at home with their surroundings than they do at the typical large graveyards which are managed... Well, more efficiently. Over here, the nature is closer in a more natural way, with fewer rules telling which way the grass or the trees can grow. 

As I walk on the path which meanders towards the end of the Kokonniemi cape, bordered by blueberry bushes, I feel this is the first time I am walking on a graveyard that seems a perfect final resting place.

 

At the tip of Kokonniemi there are more different looking grave stones.  Maria (born) Laadikain (1835-68) has only a very simple gravestone but the local bard Irinja Arhipoff (1864-1934) has been honoured with a newish granite monument.

The waves sing their own songs, the wind blows restful thoughts in the air. If you want to stop, sit down and look through the trees to lake Ilomantsinjärvi and listen to the world around you.

The treetops and branches stretch protectively above the path. I really don't miss the regular cemeteries with their neat and straight walkways and gardening made as easy as possible, with the (often) identical flowers that decorate the graves. Kokonniemi cemetery was established at a time when there were fewer rules and luckily it has stayed that way. Here you may find your way to the family grave by remembering the right turn of the path and that certain tall tree.

Oh well, there are of course some family graves that you can find even more easily: there is a wooden fence that you can't miss. This one looks a bit worn out but it is still erect, unlike another one which is partly fallen down on the ground. Nothing lasts forever.

The most traditional grave monument is very close to the gate of the cemetery. Grobu is a Karelian word for this log "house" that was not just a monument but also protected the body of the deceased. They have been known mostly in Karelia and northern parts of Russia. This one is dedicated to famous local bard Simana Sissonen (1786-1848) who contributed to Finnish national epic Kalevala with many ancient songs. Apparently Sissonen was originally buried in Kukonniemi cemetery, but this is not an original grobu from his time.

A walk in Kokonniemi is simply enchanting, and makes you feel that here life and death meet in peace. I don't think I've ever been to a more beautiful cemetery.

Ilomantsi: Church yards and Poetry Path

The morning sun is partly hiding behind the clouds at Ilomantsi. I walk up to the old Lutheran church on top of which a rooster is keeping an eye on the parish and telling which way the wind blows.

I boldly try the colourful church doors, but unfortunately they are locked and I can't get in to see the colourful pictures inside. Ilomantsi Lutheran Church will actually be open during the summer, as part of the Tiekirkko (Road Church) program so that travellers can visit churches more easily also outside the times of church services. However, that is on during the holiday season which starts towards the end of June, so not just yet.

The old Lutheran church dates to 1796 and it is surrounded by a lovely rocky fence, almost totally covered in moss. The dew still remains there...

I leave Henrikintie road and turn to Kirkkotie road and its combined foot and cycle path. Actually, the painted symbol on the asphalt reveals something about the local population: zimmer frames are quite common in the village. This is the first time I see it painted on the road.

I walk past the war memorial and the graves before arriving to another simple, yet beautiful church. The orthodox church is dedicated to prophet St Elias. The wooden church has five cupolas and it is the largest wooden orthodox church in Finland. Unfortunately the church doors are locked here as well.

Opposite the orthodox church, there are black and white signs that point to Iljala and Kalmisto. Kalmisto is an old Finnish word for cemetery so I decide to follow the road through Iljala yard. Although this is no valley, lilies of the valley abound. Can I feel the scent in the air?

The meadow is also in full bloom, with yellow dandelions spotting the pasture. I feel I am stepping back in time, looking at the scenery. The old traditional wooden fence, no nails used when building it, reminds me of times long gone. I can almost hear a cowbell although there are no animals in sight.

There are more and more lilies of the valley. I spot a sign with a medieval prayer dedicated to this flower, and soon I see another wooden sign, with yet another poem about lilies of the valley, this time by poet and writer Katri Vala who lived in Ilomantsi for a while. What a simple yet great idea!

 

As I walk a bit further, I discover there are more poems in sight and start to follow them. I'll visit the old cemetery a bit later... The path winds close to lake Ilomantsinjärvi shore and soon I arrive at a meadow spotted with lovely birches.

I walk under the birches, mostly young and straight, but there is an older one among them, still going strong. It feels great to fill your lungs with this fresh early summer air, the greenness, the dew.

A little shelter in the meadow indicates that the area is probably taken care of by a flock of sheep during the summer months. Why use lawnmowers when sheep can do a much better job? However, they are not "working" currently.

This morning walk in the poetic Karelian landscape feels like meditation, with the birds singing around me. You can simply label it peace.

I advance slowly, taking in every moment and enjoying every breath. Almost too soon the path arrives at a red and white outbuilding and the dirt road next to it. Simanantie is the end of the Poetry Path (Runopolku). Or actually, it is the beginning; I simply walked it in the opposite direction, having found it accidentally.

I'm glad I followed my instinct and the poems. Poetry Path fits this village of poems and bards perfectly! 

Ilomantsi: Susitaival, Day 4

I wake up early at the wilderness hut by Harkkojärvi lake. It is still raining, perhaps a bit more than yesterday. The positive side of it is that at least there should be no mosquitoes (well, there haven't been too many so far either). I pack my backpack slowly and get ready for a walk in the rain. Today's plan is to follow the Susitaival Trail at least to Naarva, if not beyond.

The very first part of the path follows Harkkojärvi lake on even ground and offers two short cruises across the water, courtesy of Ilomantsi. Self-service, of course. I jump aboard the light ferry and pull myself across with the orange rope. Thanks to the hiker who came from this direction yesterday, the ferries are waiting for me on the right side of the shore when I arrive.

The map tells me that these will be the last lakes before Naarva. I miss this scenery already; paths that run close to the water are usually the best ones. Even when it rains.

However, when I leave the green forest, I am greeted by a clear felling area. There are very few trees left standing, and if there is a storm, even they will easily be gone because there is no longer the protection of the forest. I know the trail is somewhere around here... Finally, I discern some orange paint marks on the tree stumps and continue my walk along the muddy tracks left by the heavy machinery.

This must be the most difficult part of the trail - to watch. I have walked through such wonderful ridges during these past few days that I know exactly how beautiful this area must have been before the felling. I stop for a bit of rest and take my backpack down. Even my back is moaning. Not so good.

The clear felling area is pretty large, but finally it is behind me. The part of the trail I will least miss! It feels good to be back among the pine trees, heather and lichen. Besides the raindrops falling from the sky, the young pine trees that grow right next to the path are getting friendly with me, and keep brushing their wet branches against my face and jacket. Nice of them to wish me luck, isn't it...

When I reach the edge of the pine forest, there is a surprise waiting. This shelter is not marked in my map! This is the only place after Jorho where it is possible to sit down and not be rained on, so it is a welcome sight indeed. Well, it seems that the roof of both the shelter and the toilet leak so perhaps it was better not to know about this place. At least I didn't accidentally get wet during the night!

At Petrokangas, the trail follows a road for a while. Apparently, there isn't too much traffic, or the cars don't mind an occasional fallen tree.

When I get closer to Naarva, I can see houses this close for the first time since I started the trail. It feels strange to walk past the old farmhouse. As if I was coming back to 'normal' life with electricity and all that. Then there is another house, and another, and a Susitaival sign pointing to the left. Next to it, another sign welcomes me to Hirvola farm (camping, rooms and cottages to rent, sauna available!) which is at the end of the path.

I walk through the yard of Hirvola farm. The open view to the distance tells that it will keep on raining for the rest of the day as well. What should I do? I could spend the night at Hirvola and see if my back is better in the morning...

However, you have to make difficult decisions sometimes. My difficult decision today is to finish my Susitaival right here, after about 62 km, leaving one third of the whole trail for another time. These boots would happily keep on walking but one single aching muscle in my back decides otherwise. If it got any worse when I was somewhere in the woods, there would be nobody to help me carry my backpack, so better be sensible.

The local taxi driver is at home so I catch a taxi from Naarva to Ilomantsi village straight away. Susitaival was four great days of solitude, fantastic nature, peace. And good-looking false morels. Thanks and farewell, Susitaival. I'll be back.

Ilomantsi: Susitaival Trail, Day 3

Gone is the hard wind from yesterday, replaced by a steady drizzle. I wake up to a wet morning, get out of my warm sleeping bag and start making breakfast with my Trangia stove. Don't want to struggle with making a fire. Lake Kaunisjärvi is all stillness except for the raindrops that land on its surface.

The clear lake is trying to hide its beauty in the greyness of the morning but I still get an idea of how gorgeous it must be on a clearer day. On a hot day it would be great to walk into the water and feel the sand beneath my feet. After a refreshing cup of tea I get into full rain gear and walk back to the dirt road and today's Susitaival Trail. While walking, I keep hearing a Finnish song in my head: Ilomantsi by Juice Leskinen; the song was competing for a place to represent Finland in the Eurovision Song Contest in 1981, but without success... 

I pass through heath with pines but very soon I enter the fantastic forests wearing their early summer greens. I pass a simple wooden bridge, accidentally scare a bird that is swimming in the water, come to a path that is surrounded by mires and again arrive at the greenest scenery by the small lakes. Even without the sun, I feel dazzled.

The raindrops keep falling on my head as well as on the lakes, everywhere. A pair of swan takes it easy on the other side of the pond on my left, and a cuckoo is singing happily on my right.

The beavers are hiding somewhere nearby, but they have left their familiar marks on the trees next to a small brook that connects the lakes. This birch is doomed to become part of the beavers' next home.

Rain, rain, rain... In addition to trying to make me as wet as possible, the raindrops are slyly making the path less safe than before. If I'm not careful enough, it would be very easy to slip on the wet rocks or roots. I almost trip twice, but luckily manage to keep my balance.

Far too soon the path arrives at a clearing: a huge pile of logs is waiting by the side of the road in the distance. It means that for a while, the trail marks are no longer on tree trunks but there are painted marks on tree stumps or rocks on the ground, or on sticks put up here and there. Of course you could say it means that you get a better view to the nearby lakes and beyond, but the scenery with only few, lonely trees scattered on the formerly gorgeous ridges full of trees is simply sad.

It is only one or two kilometers until the next wilderness hut when something strange happens. I see another hiker coming towards me! A human being! We say a brief hello - why bother to stop and chat... I know there would be many hours of daylight left for me to keep going as well but I decide to call it a day and not continue any further than Jorho, although I have "only" walked about 14,5 km today.  When I walk down the slope to Harkkojärvi and see the grey log cabin next to it, I feel happy already: soon I'll be able to make a fire and start drying my gear. I wonder if there are other people?

Whether it is being antisocial or just enjoying the solitude, I feel lucky to have the hut completely for myself, to continue my journey in silence. Jorho hut is taken care of by the local Lions Club, LC Ilomantsi Brihat; thanks for providing me with this well kept haven for the night.

The rain stops for a brief moment towards the evening, and I take a stroll at the sandy beach. The well provides fresh drinking water. According to the guest book of the hut, some travellers have arrived here by plane, landing on lake Harkkojärvi, and continued their journey by air to another part of Finland the next day. Right now it is hard to even imagine changing scenery that fast, and I feel no desire to be travelling with motor. Even if I feel a bit of pain in one of the muscles on my back. Ah well, it will probably be alright in the morning, after a good night's sleep at Jorho. I sincerely hope so.

When I go to sleep, I think about the 36 false morels that I did not pick from the path today. Better not think about them and sleep instead.