I’ve a whole day in Rovaniemi before my train departs this evening to Helsinki. Rovaniemi is famous for one thing……Santa Claus.
There are two Santa Clause themed “attractions”. The original 1950s Santa Clause Village and the recent upstart, the Santa Park. As I have absolutely nothing better to do for the day I make my way and investigate what’s on offer.
The Santa Park is in an underground cavern reached by a tunnel bored into the rock, some 200m long. It can also be used as an underground bunker for the local population. You wonder why as we’re in the middle of nowhere until you read that Rovaniemi also has a European Strategic Defence missile base close by.
There’s a ticket office but no one in attendance so I nonchalantly continue inside (I later find out I’ve saved EUR17 which is extortion considering what there is and that’s the summer rate – if you’re here at Christmas it’s EUR35……each!!).
There’s a train through the elves workshop and the lad operating it looks thoroughly fed up and disenfranchised and keeps sending empty cars through for something to do. There’s a cottage further up and I peek inside to discover an old bloke with long white beard looking equally bored and fed up. It’s Santa. He’s more pleased to see me and I say hello. He motions for me to sit down next to him and we have a little chat – I’m from Nottingham and he’s from here. I do a lot of travelling and so does he. Suddenly a camera flash goes off. Photos are taken. Say goodbye and exit to find an elf selling said photo for EUR25 (free frame included).
I don’t know if she’s acting at being an elf or she is like this normally but she has this annoying squeak at the end of each sentence. Can’t quite tell.
Final “attraction” is the Ice Queen’s ice bar. I need no encouragement to go into a bar and am prepared to walk in as is until I’m told it’s minus 10C and take up the offer of a white Parka jacket. I meet the Ice Queen who is setting out ice glasses on an ice bar with a bottle of vodka in attendance. It’s EUR10 for a shot so I’ll pass on that. The Ice Queen is rather attractive, long blonde hair, Finnish blue eyes……anyway, moving swiflty on……I exit the ice bar and the Ice Queen and her equally attractive assistant tell me they’re impressed I stuck it out so long in the sub-zero temperature. They laugh when I say I’m British and used to the cold. I’m playing it cool but, embarrassingly, my glasses have steamed up so can’t see a thing and promptly trip over a child as I turn to leave.
2km walk to the rival Santa Clause Village slap bang on the Arctic Circle. It’s less “attraction” and more shops, shops, shops and more shops, restaurants, cafes, hotel, shops and more shops. You get the picture. There’s a live stream of Santa (www.santaclauselive.com) greeting all the children so text my nieces to log on so they can see me on ‘tinternet for a laugh. Greeted by Santa, I sit down and wave to the camera only to find out that my nieces’ computer is still buffering so they miss this once in a lifetime opportunity. An elf offers me a credit card sized USB stick with photo and video of my meeting Santa but at EUR39 it’s a blatant rip-off.
Walk outside into the fresh air and nieces ring to tell me they can see me on another outdoor webcam. They ping the screenshot over but, quite frankly, it’s like something you see on Crimewatch.
I’m standing there, on the phone, waving to no one but a distant camera and must look a complete loon to the casual observer.
30mins spare before bus arrives and wander over to a wigwam in the woods with a pale faced, small, weedy looking lad sitting by a campfire looking bored. He stands as I approach and I tower over him. There’s the wigwam which is empty and he says I can see the reindeer in the wooden enclosure up the path. Great – that will kill some time. He adds, “It costs EUR5.”
“But I can see reindeer in the wild……”
“Yes, it’s normal….”
Silence.
I turn and leave.
The train departs at 1810hrs for the overnight trip to Helsinki and comprises car transporters, sleeping carriages, normal carriages and restaurant car. I’ve booked an ensuite cabin which is in a brand new, double deck, modern carriage on the upper deck. The washand basin fascia pulls out to hide the toilet and reveal a shower – nifty design.
The shower is operated by a button which squirts water for 20secs before having to push button again. It’s like doing the hokey-cokey – you put your left leg in, your left leg out, your right leg in,your right leg out, do a bit of soapy soapy and you clean your……
Dine in the restaurant car which is described by Finnish Rail as (and this is quoted verbatim from their website)
Restaurant services are an important part of an enjoyable journey. All night trains have a restaurant car which offers a culinary journey into the 1970s……70s theme with photos and plastic bar stools…..the restaurant brings back the good old 1970s with its colour scheme and photos from the decade….come take a trip down memory lane….
So, I naturally assumed this was a sort of modern retro look at the 1970s given that the sleeping carriages are state of the art and very comfortable.
I was born in 1970, so looking forward to re-living a bit of my childhood and have been thinking to myself all day I’ll have the Prawn Cocktail with Marie Rose sauce, perhaps a gammon steak with pineapple ring and splash out with a fried egg as it’s a treat, followed by some rum bhaba, perhaps treat myself to a glass of Blue Nun, Black Tower or, wait for it……Mattheus Rose – and finish off with a “floating cream” coffee and an After Eight……generally in line with what I used to have at the local Berni Inn (apart from the wine)…..all those years ago….(you’re all nodding to yourselves now thinking, ah yes, a Berni Inn)…..
Imagine my surprise when I discover that when they said “70s theme”, what they actually meant was “it’s the original 1977 rolling stock which we haven’t replaced” and dinner is more a case of choosing a “foodstuff” that’s least likely to give me food poisoning. And anyway, “the restaurant brings back the good old 1970s” – yep, we’re sitting in the dark and rubbish is piling up around the bins.
The good old 1970s.
