There’s no plan for this van trip. The lack of planning creates freedom, and that’s the essence of my whole journey. I want to spend time exactly where it feels right for as long as it feels right.

I left home on Monday and parked that same day in the village of Pyhäjärvi in Pelkosenniemi, at my friends' place. Pyhä feels good. I even wonder why, since it often lacks the wildness and wilderness spirit I usually crave. Instead, it offers a rural idyll of Lapland, the sense of an old-time village community, small mountain village activities, and like-minded people.

Summer had arrived at Pyhätunturi. I walked through the fields in a summer dress, picking wildflowers to place in a drinking glass that serves as the only vase on the van’s table. I had forgotten how much I missed flowers.

There’s always something to do at Pyhä and wonderful people around. We went paddling, danced wildly on a sandy beach in the evening sun, and swam in the still-icy waters of Lake Pyhäjärvi. We painted art extemporaneously on the terrace in the golden glow of the evening sun. The sun never set behind the fells but circled to the other side of the van at midnight and began a new round. The midnight sun is here.

Life in the van fell into place naturally. To my own surprise, the food and water systems are running smoothly, and I’ve been sleeping soundly inside Bertta’s metal walls. Everything has found its place, and so far, no major mishaps. During the first drive, the tomatoes went flying over the road bumps, and the heavy water canister turned out to be too heavy for the seat where I placed it for the ride. The corner of the seat gave way, but it was quickly fixed.

I drove to Utsjoki almost in one go, stopping only once to cool off with an icy dip in Lake Inari. Utsjoki, too, is basking in the heat. The sun beats down hot nearly 24 hours a day. Around midnight, it eases off a bit in terms of heat, but not at all in terms of light, and by morning, I can sleep in the van without a blanket. As a photographer, I long for the soft evening light, but right now, the light is at full intensity all night long.

Up until Inari, there were surprisingly many people on the road—RVs and motorcyclists—but north of Inari, I was able to drive in peace. Only the reindeer grazed on the greenery along the roadside; otherwise, the landscape was empty.

I stumbled upon a stunning spot to park my van and sleep overnight. On a whim, I veered off the main road onto a smaller gravel road, which led straight to a rushing river. I backed up a bit recklessly over the large stones at the end of the bumpy road, but eventually managed to position the van so that the rear doors opened directly to the view of the roaring rapids.

I've been here now for a day and a half. It's strange to be stationary, alone, with nothing much to do. At first, I fought against it, but eventually, I surrendered. For the past few months, I've filled every hour of the day to make this van trip happen. I embraced the lovely feeling of boredom, took naps in the shade away from the sun's glare, even though I wasn't really tired.

I’m often very aware of where I am on the map and what’s around me, as I usually look for potential photo spots that way. This time, however, I have no idea where I am on the map. I don't even know how far it is from my parking spot to the village of Utsjoki.

I went on an exploratory trek along the river downstream from the rapids. I followed a path that was almost narniain its allure, moving alongside the roaring water, though without a specific destination. It was a lovely day hike. The heat eased slightly under the shade of the delicate leaves of the mountain birches. The birds sang their dominance and summer exuberance.

There’s nothing particularly remarkable to say about the hike. I walked along the path until it ended and brought me back to the main road. By the rapids, I took photos of the steep sandy ridges amid the roar of the cold water splashing. I soaked my sunburned feet in the current. Meanwhile, Papu lay on the warm stones after his own bath, eyes closed, patiently waiting for his owner to finish her peculiar activities.

Tomorrow, I’ll pack Bertta back up for the road and head to the village of Utsjoki. I need to stop by the store; at least I’ve run out of apple juice. I might also visit the fell, or maybe I won’t. That can be planned later.

Right now, the midnight sun is shining through the van’s back windows straight into my eyes. The rapids roar in the background. The sound will surely linger in my ears even after leaving this place.

It’s wonderful to have you here with me on this van trip 💛

Hugs,
Sanna