First Time to Scandinavia: Denmark, Sweden, & Finland
- LoAroundTheGlobo
- Jul 14
- 23 min read
Summer 2025
The impetus for this trip was an invitation from my best friend Schyler's husband, Emil, whose family owns a cabin on a remote island off the coast of Finland, where Schyler, Emil, and his family spend every summer. My family and I built our vacation around making the trek to this cabin.
My travel began quite stressfully with a delay from Charlotte to Philadelphia (due to storms) that ensured I'd miss my flight from Philly to Copenhagen; gambling on good travel karma, I took the delayed flight to Philly and arrived to the good news that my Copenhagen flight had also been delayed, just enough that I'd make it (albeit hurriedly) to my gate in time. The overnight flight itself was smooth, and I arrived into Copenhagen, Denmark around lunchtime on Friday.
From the Copenhagen airport, I took the metro to city center, explored Christianshavn, a vibrant, quaint neighborhood across the canal from main downtown; I fueled up on much-needed caffeine and explored the streets, namely the Church of Our Savior, with its famous gold-detailed spire. After an hour or so there, still luggage in tow, I rode another metro stop to drop my bags at our hotel before heading back out for a tour at Rosenberg Castle, an opulent and extravagant structure situated among perfectly-tended gardens that house the Crown Jewels and other works of art.
The Castle and gardens were gorgeous but the the tour was poorly designed for foot traffic so I got overwhelmed from the travel exhaustion and shuffling of people; from there, I meandered back to the hotel where my mom, brother, Timmy, and his girlfriend, Jess, met me.
Once all together, we ventured to Copenhagen's world-famous mermaid and fortress park, then back to the Rosenberg Gardens, with its stunning tree tunnels, intimidating geese, and beautifully-maintained pathways.
Now, a quick side story for context about the next part... when I visited Massachusetts a week before this trip, two friends and I stayed at the adorably quaint, albeit fairly bougie, Chatham Inn on The Cape, where the service was world-class. So much so that the food and beverage manager plus a chef provided me with a list of dining recommendations, printed and sealed as a letter, when they overheard that I would be in Scandinavia soon. Of the four recommendations, there was a Michelin Star restaurant (which was all booked up), a pizza joint, a French cuisine restaurant (called Salon), and a "casual experience" (called Punk Royale) with a few different locations.
I made reservations for my family and I at Salon, and I made reservations for our group at Punk Royale's flagship location in Stockholm. So, back to Scandinavia... it was finally dinnertime of our first day there, we'd walked nearly 10 miles, and had quite a long stretch along a canal-side bike path to (what we thought was the location of) our Salon reservation. When we swung the door open to this beautiful cocktail bar called Salon 39, we were greeted by a cheeky bartender that was (rightfully) not convinced we had a reservation there, since they don't do reservations.
After connecting to his hot spot to check my email and getting perfectly flirted with and roasted by this bartender who noticed how irresponsible I was for letting my phone get to 5% battery, he helped us course correct, and we thankfully had just enough time to order an Uber to the correct Salon, which happened to be only a few blocks from our hotel after all.
Even our Uber driver was cheeky and we were cracking up at these two random men totally screwing with me over my mix-up, but we finally arrived, got sat, and let Timmy (an impressive amateur chef in his own right) order the courses for us to enjoy. And all the food was some of the best of my life, no joke. We did shareable plates that were to die for, a nice bottle of Pinot Noir, and incredible entrees, including a couple of filet mignons and fish pastry dishes. Bloated and happy, we headed back to the hotel for a solid first night of sleep.
We awoke Saturday to a rainy-ish morning, grabbed coffee and breakfast at a cafe, and took the metro to Central Station in Copenhagen for a day trip by train to Malmo, Sweden; once there, it was quiet while we explored the historic old town, seeing Town Hall, St. Peter’s Gothic Church, Lilla Torg Plaza (where we later dined for lunch), Malmo Castle and Gardens, where you can view Slotsmallen Windmill, all of which comprises Kungsparken with its gardens that are simultaneously well-kept and wild. We also made our way to Malmo Saluhall, a food hall where we tasted yummy cheeses, spicy salami sticks, and chocolate truffles.
Then we headed to the Disgusting Food Museum where we laughed and gagged our way through some of the world's delicacies before tasting our way through various bugs, stinky fish like Icelandic hakarl, smelly cheeses, and extreme hot sauces, all as part of the bingo card challenge. Mom and I (barely) completed challenge — in which we got to spin the wheel, and mom won a locust and I got museum stickers — while Timmy and Jess tasted most everything, skipping some of the more repulsive or frankly dangerous options. Not sure the coughing attack, nausea, or hot-sauce-induced sweats were worth these prizes but they were worth the bragging rights.
From there, we lunched at the main plaza, and took the train back to Copenhagen, before taking the metro from Central Station to Freetown Christiania, also known as Christiania or simply Staden, but which is an international community and anarchist commune in the Christianshavn neighborhood of the Danish capital city. We explored Christiania's colorful streets and graffitied buildings before crossing the bridge the short distance into Nyhavn, an iconic street in Copenhagen, world-famous for the colorful buildings and classic Scandi architecture that line the main canal.
We strolled along the water before settling down for a light light dinner and drinks; after a couple of hours, we made our way the short distance back to our hotel, but not before stopping for a quick nightcap of desserts and cocktails at a place entirely too fancy for our vibes at that moment. We were in the mood for decadent chocolate desserts but "settled" for petit fours and pistachio ice cream, but our playful waitress made our time there totally worthwhile.
On Sunday, we strolled through Nyhavn (now very quiet and a totally different scene from the afternoon/evening prior), and settled in for breakfast and coffee at a super cute cafe, before retrieving our bags from the hotel and taking the metro back to Central Station.
This time, we were headed to Goteborg, Sweden, also by train, but due to scheduled maintenance, we had to disembark after three hours in Falkenborg, and take a bus the remaining hour. The train was surprisingly packed, with a group of Swedish school girls crowding in near us. Mom, of course, ate leftover salmon on the train (which is not a crime but should be), as we enjoyed views of the channel between the North and Baltic Seas, gorgeous countrysides, and windmill fields.
Once we arrived to Falkenborg, we shuffled fairly chaotically onto buses bound for Goteborg, where we grabbed grub from the train station as we waited for our Uber to the hotel. We got checked in at our beautiful boutique hotel, and quickly popped back out to explore Haga, the historic old town with its cobblestone streets, cafes, shops, and artisan stores.
We stumbled upon Haga Church where the 5:30 pm bells rang, before trekking up to Skansen Kronan, a beautiful stone fortress with a gilded crown atop it and 360° views of the city below. We braved the extreme wind for a while before meandering down the park's paths and along the main promenade of Haga where we grabbed dinner at an amazing Italian restaurant.
On Monday, breakfast at our hotel was included, so we helped ourselves to one of the most impressive and extensive breakfast spreads I've ever seen. There were multiple islands of options boasting different cuisines, entire sections of vegan, gluten, and dairy free options, and a juice bar with ginger shots. The extravagance of this hotel breakfast will be relevant later on...
Anyway, we took the tram to the Botanical Gardens, which are the largest in Europe, and we explored there a while, through its gorgeous flower fields, vegetable gardens, and manicured hedges. We even summited a trailhead that provided nearly 200° views of the city below. After the Botanical Gardens, we took the tram back toward our hotel to eat lunch at a fish market (Feskekorka) that was formerly a municipal building; we dined on a veranda over the water, indulging in lobster rolls and salmon nuggets, pleasantly surprised yet again by the delicious food.
We then walked a ways over to the port near the Opera House, where we rented and hopped on a dinky boat requiring no license or training, soon ending up in the open water, amongst fishing boats, commercial ferries, and industrial shipping ports for a would be 2-hour rental (that, spoiler, turned into a 3.5+-hour experience for reasons to be explained momentarily).
The boat, which was electric and had top speeds of 8 mph, actually died on us briefly while we were in the open water of the shipping port, and we flagged down some nice tourists who encouraged us to "restart" the reservation, which did reset the boat's engine after a few minutes or so. Timmy as our Captain expertly navigated the industrial traffic, narrow canals, and a massive cruise liner we were convinced might smush us.
Needless to say that, once we turned into the main canal portion of the route, the entire vibe shifted and our shoulders relaxed as we floated along the stone walls, gorgeous architecture, waterside restaurants, luscious parks, kayak tours, and duck families lining the canal. The sunlight twinkled off the water, and the blue sky beamed while we waved to pedestrians on bridges, trams, and canal-side bars.
We were nearly to the end of the canal loop when our boat abruptly died again; this time, we flagged down a suave Swede in a speedboat who towed us over toward a ladder, so that a couple of us could climb out of the canal, and go for help. While our mom and Jess headed back to the rental location, Timmy and I sunbathed, listening to ABBA for about 20 mins until they returned with the worker girl.
As they were approaching, the boat magically started up again, but we were coming up on a 4-hour rental by this point, so Timmy and I then climbed out, switching places with the worker girl who planned to return the boat to the port, as we all giggled at this misfortune, which certainly could've been worse but made for a funny/ridiculous story. After the boat fiasco, we meandered through the main shopping district, with its pedestrian streets, colorful flag archways, and cobblestone streets teeming with tourists and locals alike.
Finally, we plopped for dinner at the rooftop restaurant of our hotel, with stunning views of Haga's orange roofs, stone churches, and landmarks we'd visited the day prior. Timmy got table-side service with his steak, we shared a few entrees family style, and again were floored by the absolutely amazing food and service. After dinner, we retired to our rooms, resting up for what was to come.
Tuesday proved to hold yet another travel snafu. We planned to take the train from Goteborg to Stockholm at 7:30 am, which did not leave us enough time to grab breakfast from the incredible spread at our Goteborg hotel; we figured we could take the train to Stockholm just an hour after our scheduled ticket time, since all other trains, metros, trams, and modes of public transportation had so far been very flexible.
When we boarded the 8:30 am train, however, we quickly encountered trouble; the ticket collector called for backup and two enforcement officers came to speak with us about why we missed the earlier train, seemingly trying hard to excuse our "mistake" but needing a valid reason. Trying not to lie, but knowing that 'you should've seen our hotel breakfast' would be an insufficient answer, they assessed two (instead of four) penalties, totaling $280, which was a costly gamble for us, but entirely our fault and one we justified by enjoying the best breakfast ever for only $35/day/person.
A bit annoyed with ourselves nonetheless, we got settled into our newly-assigned seats and were eventually Stockholm bound. We rode the 3.5 hours by lakes, windmill fields, and beautiful countrysides, ready to meet up with Schyler and Emil, who’d been in London for the long weekend after their school in Singapore recently broke up for summer break.
From Central Station, we took the metro to our hotel with its international flags, bougie interiors, and quaint vibes, and we quickly dropped our bags, convened with Schyler and Emil, and all headed out to a nearby cafe for refreshments and shared pastries. We then walked across the bridge to Gamla Stan, an island central to the city that boasts an old town area with beautifully colorful buildings, quaint streets, and cobblestone alleyways.
We popped into the Nobel Prize Museum to learn about the winners, laureates, and process of selecting these pioneers of literary, biological, and human sciences. Stockholm is the home of this museum because Alfred Nobel, a Swedish chemist and businessman, famous for inventing dynamite but more notably for changing his legacy by holding hundreds of other patents and bequeathing his fortune to establish the Nobel Prize, was from an affluent family in Stockholm in the 19th century.
The main plaza there (Stortorget) was beautiful and we enjoyed the cartoonishly-painted buildings before meandering down a cobblestone alleyway for a late lunch and some drinks at a restaurant where we met Alan, a hilariously quirky Ukrainian immigrant who had big plans to emigrate to Italy. Some jokes and flirts later, we said our goodbyes and strolled down to the water, lined with cafes of colorful and patterned umbrellas, tourists, cyclists, pedestrians with doggies, and ferries; we sat briefly, for cigars and ice cream, before crossing a different bridge and climbing many stairs to the summit of a pretty park overlooking the water below.
From there, we slowly made our way to dinner at Punk Royale, the "casual experience" recommended to me by the staff at Chatham Inn. When we rolled up on the inconspicuous storefront, with its graffitied windows and a random baby doll hanging from the door hinge, I should've known then what we were in for -- but, that said, nothing could've prepared us for what was to come.
We knocked on the door and were greeted by a dude in sunglasses, an unbuttoned crop top, and jorts, with a dark, smokey room flashing club lights and lasers behind him. I meagerly indicated we had a reservation, and he quickly ushered us inside to a booth in a corner, where a chandelier, random artwork, and pink lights hung around us.
Our waitress came over to confirm allergies, preferences, etc. and gave us an aggressive but fun/cheeky overview of the experience that basically went like this: "When I bring you food, you eat it. When I bring you drinks, you drink them. No lolly-gagging or actual gagging, no bullshit. Now put your phones in this box."
The box of our phones quickly disappeared and we were instructed to follow another waiter to the gulley of the kitchen, where they scooped a huge spoon-full of caviar onto our hands, placed a shot of vodka in front us of, and we downed both alongside the chefs and kitchen staff, trying to get our bearings from what had already been a disorienting minute or so.
As we made our way back to our booth, we sat for what would end up being about 15 courses of non-stop food and drinks. It was chaos to say the least... smoke machines, abrasive staff, mouth-watering food, unhinged moments. Among the dark, smokey basement, music oscillating between Christmas music, Gangnam Style, and Bruce Springsteen, we enjoyed some of the most incredible and unique dishes of my life... oyster shells with curry and sorbet, pork ribs with cigarette ash (oregano) flicked on it by the chef himself who walked out "smoking" to present the course, lobster bisque shoveled into our mouths directly by the staff, unknown liquids fed to us by our waitress who'd put her whole foot/boot on the table, and chefs scooping sauce straight from the pan onto our tuna tartar.
Mostly, we cracked up for two straight hours, wondering how we'd gotten ourselves into this situation, making friends with nearby patrons (all of whom were experiencing the same course at the same time), and decorating the torso of a mannequin that was perched on our booth (ironically named Jesica), all completely uninhibited by the absence and thus non-surveillance of cell phones. We got our phones back toward the end as they shuffled us out to prepare for the next round of unwitting participants, and it was at that point that I snapped a few pictures.
What cracked me up most about this experience is that (1) the staff at a quite fancy inn in Massachusetts somehow read my vibe well enough to recommend this place to me for my family vacation and (2) every time we'd mention our reservation to Swedes, their jaws would hit the floor asking "how do you know about Punk Royale?! how did you get in there? That's been on my bucket list FOREVER! I CANNOT believe you went there!"
Safe to say this recommendation was a home run, and, as the most unique dining experience of my life, hands down, it will be a core memory for a long time. After the dinner, we walked home slowly -- with new friends (namely an Icelandic nuclear physicist couple) in tow -- did bad Italian accents, indulged 7/11 taquerias, hot dogs, etc., and crawled into bed around midnight.
Come Wednesday morning, we slept in a tiny bit (as you can imagine was necessary), packed up, enjoyed another included hotel breakfast's amazing buffet and a la carte options, and stowed our luggage with the hotel's front desk. We debriefed for a while about the prior night's chaos, before walking to the waterfront to catch the ferry to Djurgarden Island, which is littered with an amusement park and many museums, and where we made our way to the ABBA Museum to enjoy the many colorful and interactive exhibits for a couple of hours.
From the ABBA Museum, we headed to the Vasamuseet, a museum where the Vasa Ship, an absolute beauty of a ship with an absolute travesty of a voyage (sinking roughly half a mile into its trek), has been restored and maintained. We lazily explored that museum for another couple of hours before we made our way to Östermalm, a quaint but fancy neighborhood with high-end shops and restaurants lining the cobblestone streets, where we grabbed sammies at a shop recommended by Emil’s sister.
We popped in some stores, bought linen shirts for the boys, meandered under the flag arches, and visited for a while longer before taking the metro back to our hotel to retrieve our bags. Now early evening, we took an Uber the 10 minutes to the port to prepare for our overnight ferry to Finland, which was the final but undoubtedly most important leg of the trip!
The ferry was insane — more like a cruise ship than ferry, and not at all what I was expecting. As we checked into our tiny but cute cabins, we encountered a group of schoolboys traveling for a hockey tournament; they were being rowdy in the hallway, and I asked if they were racing, which quickly devolved into Schyler challenging them to a hallway race. She may have lost (they cheated) but we all started laughing so loudly that other passengers popped their heads out of their cabins to inspect the commotion.
After a bit of exploration of the ship, we sat for dinner in the main market area, using a voucher attached to our tickets and, once again, enjoying impeccable dishes of seafood, pasta, and steak. From dinner, we meandered over to the performance area, where we were wowed by a magic show and a pretty impressive cover band, and made friends on the dance floor with a group of Koreans ladies who loved being twirled by us.
We proceeded to then make enemies at karaoke with a boring, deadpan crowd, except for one sole fan, a Slovakian man, who swayed along as we butchered "Friends in Low Places," after which we hung out on the ship's back deck in the chilly, windy air. Some of our group slowly dipped throughout the night, leaving my mom, Schyler, and I having a deep conversation with our Slovakian friend about marriage, divorce, love, loss, and life. To be fair, we had heard that this boat was a party cruise, so we were not at all ashamed when we called it a night around 2:30 (although we did 'lose' one hour with a time change).
The morning came quickly and abruptly, of course, and we awoke to overhead speakers at 6:30, telling us to get up and get off. We disembarked in Turku, Finland, storing luggage at the ferry terminal, before popping into an old castle and walking a while in the rainy, overcast weather to a small, quaint cafe owned by a kind-hearted couple. We chatted in the booth for a while, hugging our coffee cups for warmth, as the rain fell gently outside.
Although our morning in Turku started fairly bleak (exhaustion, hangovers, weather, hanger), we finally stumbled upon the old town area, with its beautiful Lutheran Church, main square, and slow-paced restaurant and shopping scene. We continued along the canal and main plaza, while Schyler and Emil headed to the airport to retrieve our rental van.
As we waited for them, we did some shopping in the now-open boutiques, waltzed through the main plaza's market of local flowers, produce, and other venders. As the rain came in again, we sought refuge under a vendor's tent where we chatted with an Egyptian/Finnish father-son duo, who gifted us an umbrella and whose other son plans to swim at a school in Michigan this fall. The father was so visibly proud of his sons and other kids that it was really heart-warming to see.
Once Schyler and Emil returned with the rental van, they’d already loaded up our bags from the ferry terminal, so we hit the road for about an hour until our first stop at the grocery store to get supplies for the cabin. After another hour or so, the tail-end of which included a winding gravel road, we finally made it to the private dock where Emil’s dad, Kenneth, picked us up in their boat.
We did quick introductions, loaded our ridiculous amount of bags and groceries, and braved the very choppy waters of the Baltic Sea for the 15 minutes to their remote cabin where Emil's parents, grandma, and uncle own about 2/3 of the properties on the island. It was too windy to park at Kenneth and Päivi's dock, so we docked at Emil's uncle's place and Kenneth chivalrously carried our stuff by tractor to the other side of the island, some couple hundred yards away.
Whether it was the fact that we took planes, trains, automobiles, and boats to get there -- or that the island was spellbindingly beautiful -- we were overcome with joy and relief to have finally arrived!
They showed us around the compound and to our accommodations, which include a sauna house, a gorgeous cottage with a wall of windows looking out onto the water, another cabin, two outhouses, a shed, and the main house, with its piney smell, newly-renovated interiors, and jaw-droppingly beautiful views of the dock, rocky shoreline, and nearby islands that comprise a national archipelago. They greeted us with welcome drinks and we continued to visit, as the trees began swaying in the unruly wind of the incoming storm.
Along the footpaths lined by brush and fresh berries, we encountered staggering view after view, in disbelief (even in that moment) of how cool an experience this would be. Fairly promptly upon our arrival however, it was sauna time.
As is traditional in Finnish culture (they believe in the individual right to sauna), Emil and his dad had a sauna session, followed by us girls. Schyler showed us the ropes with the furnace and its water steaming ways, then the process of warming up and exfoliating in the sauna before popping into the sea for a cold plunge. Schyler, Jess, my mom, and I braved the frigid waters, clad only in water shoes (also traditional), and squealing so loudly that they could hear us from the main house some 100 yards away.
As the four of us took in what was objectively a beautiful and random moment and subjectively something special and unique for each of us, we all agreed that the hour in which we sauna'd, cold plunged, sauna'd again, then sat for the traditional Finnish drink of a canned gin and tonic was an instant core memory for each of us.
We parted for showers and quickly freshened up for dinner at the main house. As the boys cooked a scrumptious smelling meal of stewed reindeer and mashed potatoes, topped with lingonberry jam, we presented Kenneth and Päivi with our thank you gift: an Americana basket with items from each of the states we hailed from plus some other goodies.
Around the dinner table, we shared laughs about friend fallouts, stories of Finnish stubbornness and grudges, did "Skål" (pronounced "skoal" meaning "cheers" and originating from Viking culture), and reveled in moments that can only be described as all consuming. After cleaning up a bit, and sitting for pancake desserts, we popped out for a walk (i.e., photoshoot) around the island not lacking in beauty what it lacks in size.
We giggled about the absurdity of it all: Schyler’s in-laws not only hosting her best friend to their home on a remote Finnish island, but also the best friend's mom, brother, and the brother's girlfriend after having never even met the friend, let alone her family.
On our walk, we circled the other cabins on the family compound, posed for pictures with barns and heavy machinery, shared cigars, and laughed from our souls before calling it a night (although polar nights mean there are limited hours of actual darkness), each eventually retiring to our respective cabins.
I laid awake for a while this evening, trying to emotionally process what a special day and week it had already been. The wind whirred the pines outside, battering pinecones against our cabin and the decks, and the storm whipped the brush all about but I had this smile on my face I just couldn’t shake. As is typical for me, but is especially common when on a unique adventure like this one, I felt thankful to have such a full life and circle of people to live it with.
Butttt, I digress. Our trip wasn't done, and Friday would turn out to be even more special somehow. We slept in a little bit, all emerging in the main cabin at our respective times for coffee and a beautiful breakfast spread of traditional Finnish dishes. We sat there visiting for a while, until we had to prep the sauna with fresh firewood, kindling, newspaper, starting the daily heating process, which Kenneth graciously walked us through.
On our walk back to the main cabin, we encountered the infamous penis mushroom, known for its pungency and attraction of flies. Kenneth dug it up (at the roots, which is important to expel the pests that are attracted to it), relocated it, and we laughed about actually seeing one since they'd explained, somewhat in passing, this absolute menace of a fungus.
Before we knew it, it was midday, and we started preparing dishes for our USA-themed BBQ to celebrate the 4th of July. Emil’s parents even hung an American flag, we made burgers, hot dogs, coleslaw, tomato basil salad, and other sides including watermelon candies and American dips. Together with Emil’s cousin and her two kids from the neighboring property, we sat out on the deck, grubbing, and listening to Kenneth’s Americana inspired playlist on Spotify. Hours passed like minutes as we hung out, soaked up sunshine, took pictures, and sipped drinks.
We then presented a birthday cake to Emil (whose birthday was in just a few days), singing, and indulging the chocolate and strawberries dessert we'd gotten him. After more chatting and visiting and toasting and hanging, the cousin and kids left, and we began the daily sauna rotations, with Emil and his dad going first, followed by Timmy and Jess, and finally my mom, Schyler, and I by early evening.
We again braved the steamy heat, slid on water shoes, and slipped into the breathlessly chilling sea, before indulging some drinks and a final round in the sauna and outdoor shower. By that time, the others had been hard at work preparing dinner, set to be a full smoked salmon, fresh potatoes, and a cucumber avocado salad. We also sang a traditional Finnish song, requiring typewriter-written lyrics provided by Päivi with a vodka schnapps toast at the end.
Alas, we finally dug in, laughing around the table, sharing stories of summers and times past, seeing photos of baby Emil, and discussing just how special these couple of days had been. We then finished with a homemade rhubarb pie and I added to the guests journal they keep at the cabin, playfully asking whether to read it aloud and promptly regretting it when only one paragraph into the two pages I’d scribbled, I started (happy) crying, or rather sobbing. Finishing the evening with wine and coffee, a few of us hung down by the dock until we got too cold and sleepy, and eventually called it an evening around midnight.
Saturday marked the last full day of our trip, and it was bittersweet to leave the cabin, but we packed up, sat for coffee all together, and loaded the boat once more before saying our thanks and goodbyes. Once back at the van, now 10 of us, we dropped Kenneth at his car some 10 minutes away before dropping Emil’s cousin and her kids in Ekenas for the next part of their own summer holiday.
The six of us then popped over to Ekkulla, a cafe owned by Emil’s cousin (the sister of the one we met on the island) and her husband where we toured the garden, chicken coop, and quaint farmhouse. A queue quickly formed at the cafe, made popular by a reality show and the undeniably tasty treats, so we said our quick hellos, got one of each pastry to share, sipped a few lattes, and departed in order to promptly return our rental car to Helsinki airport.
Thankfully, it was no issue that we were half an hour late, but from the airport, we took an Uber to our hotel in central Helsinki, dropping our bags before venturing out to the nearby plazas, shopping promenades, the architectural masterpiece that is the public library, a variety of famous statues, and a pop up skateboarding event sponsored by Monster.
We meandered through Helsinki's main park, making our way to a waterside market with orange tents, where we enjoyed more yummy food... this time some traditional Finnish dishes of meat pies, sausage/potatoes, miniature fried fish, and sugary donuts. We ate family style and strolled through the rest of the market, up toward the public sauna/pool house, by the Russian Cathedral, and over toward the main marina.
We snagged coffees at a shop along the water and encountered Sven, a very friendly Swedish speaking black lab. From the coffee shop, we headed over to the main cathedral, which is under construction, but happens to be where Sandstorm by Darude was filmed, the iconic USC football anthem, and the song I play to wake up my college friends whenever we get together.
We poked around the main plaza there for a little while before heading to a cute indoor market (Hakanienen Kauppahalli) some 15 minutes farther. Now early evening, and having walked around most of Helsinki, we sat for a basket of plump strawberries and regrouped briefly. We decided to rent bikes and cycle over to another indoor market (especially since an early afternoon that was chilly but sunny and slightly overcast became a cool, rainy evening).
Once at Hietalahden Kauppahalli Market, we sat around the booth for a couple of hours, sipping coffees and bubbly, telling stories, and relaxing. From dinner, we biked (minus Emil, who accidentally let his bike rental expire while he helped the rest of us hop on ours) over toward our hotel, located near the train station and main plaza; there, we had a casual dinner at a beer garden where we enjoyed salads, wings, and more of the local G&T. We walked the short but rainy 10 minutes back to our hotel, along the cobblestone pedestrian streets, and visited just a bit longer in the hotel lobby before officially parting and saying our goodbyes to Schyler and Emil.
On Sunday, my mom, Timmy, Jess, and I convened at yet-another gorgeous breakfast spread that was included in our stay at the hotel, this time in the hotel's rooftop lounge. This spread, too, had islands of different cuisines, juice dispensers, towers of fresh fruit, coffee bars, etc. so we dined there briefly before packing up and departing for the airport.
Although the train station was directly across from our hotel, we tried unsuccessfully to locate the metro to the airport so ended up taking a taxi, but once at the airport, we navigated it with ease and all eventually parted ways.
I had a small issue with my connection in London Heathrow (something about my reservation having been cancelled, so they had re-issue my ticket), but it all ended up working out, and I landed in Charlotte later that evening where I’d proceed to take the next week to catch up on sleep.
Although I've been fairly corny throughout the entirety of this post, I want to emphasize just how special this trip was to me. Between the people I shared it with, the randomness of bringing my family to my best friend's husband's family cabin on an unnamed island in the Baltic Sea, the moments of wholesomeness and absurdity, the unhinged encounters, and the mind-bogglingly delicious food, I've truly never had a travel experience quite like this one. I'll certainly recall these memories very fondly.
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To Do or Not To Do?
As is the case for most of my trips, I highly recommend these locations should they be of any interest to you and would suggest our itinerary as it was a good blend of fast-paced yet relaxing!
This was my first time in Scandinavia and Finland, too, which is technically the Nordic Region, and I very much enjoyed all three countries we visited. The weather was perfect this time of year (amid heat waves across the U.S.), the food was amazing (a pleasant surprise I've noted throughout the post), and the scenery was to die for... between cityscapes surrounded by water, landscapes of luscious greenery, and quaint towns of cobblestone and colorfully-plastered buildings, the views themselves did not disappoint.
Of course, this trip was extra special for me because I spent half of it with my family, exploring new places, and the second half of it with my family plus dear friends, visiting people who would eventually ~feel~ like family, all thanks to their hospitality, openness, curiosity, and vulnerability. That said, even if you do not have a remote Finnish island to visit, this is still a spellbindingly beautiful part of the world, with kind, but fairly reserved people and great experiences to be had.
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