Five things you should know about a Finnish sauna

Image: Visit Finland

I was three days (yes days!) old when my parents took me into a sauna. It was early spring, and we were visiting our summer cottage near Kangasala in the Häme province of Finland. By all accounts I loved the heat and gurgled away on my mother’s lap.

I’ve been an avid sauna-goer ever since, and I've even managed to covert the Englishman, and the Daughter-in-law into the practise. Before the Big Move, when we lived in the sticks, one of our priced possessions was a sauna, but alas in London we have to do without.

It's different in Finland, where most new flats come with saunas. If you are lucky to own a summer cottage (many Finns do), there'll be a sauna there by a lake, or deep in a forest. There are reputedly some 3.3 million saunas in the country; that’s more than one sauna per two inhabitants.

Historically the sauna first came into being as part of the main dwelling quarter; later it was where you cleaned yourself, where women gave birth, and the dead were washed before burial.  

Even today, the sauna is an integral part of the Finnish psyche. There’s a Finnish proverb, “Jos ei viina, terva ja sauna auta, niin tauti on kuolemaksi.” If alcohol, tar and sauna don’t make you better, you are facing death. (Tar was used as a disinfectant in the olden days)

When I lived in Finland, sauna was where business was conducted; where the long-standing Cold War President Kekkonen had his most secret and important meetings with visiting Soviet leaders. Oh, how I would have loved to be a fly on the wall in one of those powwows! (Of course flies could not survive in a hot sauna, but you know what I mean.) 

As a result of this sauna culture, nakedness in Finland is more natural. However, contrary to popular misconception, it isn’t normal for women and men to mix in a sauna (unless they’re immediate family). It’s also now far more likely that business meetings take place on a golf course. Talking of which, some of the better public saunas I’ve visited in Finland have been in golf club changing rooms. In fact most hotels, sports halls and public facilities in Finland have a sauna. The Helsinki parliament building has a sauna, as do all the Finnish embassies and consulates around the world.

There are three main types of sauna today: electric, wood-fired and smoke sauna. I really love the wood-fired one, but whatever the type, to me, there are five crucial points you should know about a Finnish sauna:

Image: Visit Finland

1. A sauna has to be hot
2. There has to be a bucket of water available to throw over the stones to create steam, or löyly
3. If there’s no lake or sea to dip yourself in after a sauna, there has to be an area for quiet contemplation afterwards
4. You have to be naked in a sauna, but the sauna has nothing to do with sex (try doing it in a sauna...)
5. Having a sauna is a tranquil process; it’s not an activity to be hurried. 

So, if a Finn asks you to have a sauna with him – fear not. He’s not trying to embarrass you. All he wants is to share something holy with you – so say yes. You might be surprised and become a convert like the Englishman!

A version of this article will appear in the CoScan magazine later this year.

Sauna hats

Last time when I was having my hair done at the wonderful Rossano Ferretti hair spa, it was  a day before my holiday in Finland. Towards the end, when my hairdresser Clare was putting the straightening treatment on, she reminded me that I should leave my hair unwashed for 3 or 4 days to make sure the treatment works properly.

I looked at her in horror, 'But I'm going to have a sauna tomorrow, and the day after!' I gasped.

'You can't, it'll go frizzy, and then all of this is in vain.' Clare said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

Now this may seem like a very trivial thing to most of you, BUT.

For one thing, the treatment (which is also called a Brazilian blow dry) isn't cheap. Although I don't have the whole procedure, but just a conditioning product which is cheaper and has less of an effect, it's still more money to pay for a hair cut. Secondly, the stuff always makes my eyes water, so I have to sit there with a towel in my eyes (looking like a plonker) and to be honest, the 10 minutes or so Clare takes to spray the stuff on my hair is agony.

Clare looked at me through the mirror, the straightening irons suspended midair.

'I have to have a sauna when I'm in Finland,' I said.

Finns amongst you will understand this statement. To live without a sauna is bad enough; not to have one as soon as you are able, is quite another. (Sauna is like a religion in Finland. There are over 5 million saunas; that's one per head - including infants)

Clare just shook her head so I tried to another explanation, 'If I don't have a sauna my father will be offended.' I didn't say this to Clare, but to me, the lack of a sauna is the most difficult aspect of our new life here in London. In the sticks we were lucky enough to have a sauna cottage with a seating area outside, where, after a sauna, we could gaze over the paddock into the hills in the distance. It wasn't quite like sitting by a lake in Finland, but it came pretty close.

Clare and I came to a solution that I should cover my head with a towel or similar when in the sauna. I immediately knew what this would be, a piece of handy gear which Daughter convinced me to get from Marks and Spencer a few months ago.

It's a piece of towelling which wraps around your wet locks and helps to dry the hair. Both Daughter and I have very thick hair, so it can sometimes take a full 12 hours to dry (just talk to Clare - she'll tell you what a pain my hair is to blow-dry). This turban makes the process much quicker. (They are now unfortunately out of stock - let's hope more will be coming into the shop soon)


But, guess what, I bloody well forgot to take it with me, so I ended up wearing something called a sauna hat…the things I do for beauty….

With my big sister causing some hilarity with our families...

The weird thing was, that this 'sauna hat' really worked! On reflection, this model below, called Pohjan Akka (loosely translated as 'The Northern Hag') might have suited us better.

Pohjan Akka sauna hat by Saunalahja

The sauna hats, or Saunahattu are available from here or here, should you ever be in need of one. I may just surprise the sauna-loving Englishman with this combo of hat and slippers. What do you think?

Picture by Saunahattu Leeni 

Not skiing in Åre and 'old' friends

This pretty mountain train terminus is one of my favourite buildings in Åre village.

I've just come back from a skiing holiday to Sweden, where we'd planned to spend most of the time on the beautiful pistes of Åre. In the event I got only a few days on the mountains, because unseasonably warm weather brought rain, strong winds and melting snow.

It looked hopeful at night when we had a fresh covering of snow...

But in the morning the snow had turned into rain.

Each day more of the snow was disappearing off the mountain and down streams towards the Åre lake in the valley.

But the point of the holiday really wasn't the skiing alone. My ten day stay in Åre ended with a long weekend with my 'old' girlfriends.

I consider myself very lucky in that I have loyal group of friends from school who over the years have made the effort for us all to keep in touch. In the first years when I lived in England I was very bad at this, and things got even worse when my children were born. But my friends are a determined bunch (particularly one - you know who you are!) and didn't give up on me.

I love this home ware and clothing store.

There are five of us and in the last few years we've managed to meet at least once per year. We've had lunches in Helsinki, weekends in London, Paris, Rome, Athens and Åre in Northern Sweden, but to name few of our 'girly trip' destinations. It's rare that all five can make a 'meet', but this year, first time in four years, we were all re-united for a skiing holiday with no skiing...

Instead of spending the days on the pistes, we laughed much, watched some silly DVD's (Bridesmaids), and shopped together in the chic shops in the little village of Åre. We swam in the nearby hotel pool, bathed in my friend's genuine Finnish sauna (something not always available in Sweden) and lolled in her hot tub afterwards - giggling like the girls we were when we met at sixteen - while enjoying a glass (or two) of champagne and ignoring the cold drizzle falling on us. We talked about everything and anything. At times I had to remind myself that we were no longer teenagers and at school; that we were serious grown-ups with some of us having grown-up children ourselves.

And last weekend as I came home to the summery London weather from a wet non-skiing holiday, I felt incredibly refreshed, but not in a way one usually does, with aching legs and the feeling that you've really done some serious excercise. No, this time it was my mind and soul that had had the holiday.

Thank you dear, dear friends. I cannot wait for our next outing.

Midsummer in Lemland, Åland

After a sleepless night when it never got fully dark, my post about midsummer in Åland is going to be a rather picture-laden one.

The house is traditionally decorated with silver birch branches. 

The festivities started almost as soon as we settled in on Midsummer's Eve. Wood-buring sauna was followed by champagne, and lots and lots of food.

Some of the food we consumed last night.

Smoked salmon cheesecake made by my mother. It was more than delicious.

Various types of cold smoked fish.

This was the starters...I kid you not.

Schnapps to go with the fish.

We sat outside drinking schnapps and beer with various herring and other fish dishes - gravad lax, cold smoked salmon and whitefish, singing drinking songs and generally having a jolly old time.

Traditional Åland decoration for midsummer.

When it was time for bed, we didn't forget to pick seven different kinds of wild flowers for Daughter to put under her pillow. According to folklore on this magical night the flowers would ensure she dreamt of her future husband.

As we walked down to the sauna cottage - our sleeping quarters for the holiday - the Englishman and I just could not believe how light it was at midnight. 

The sun was just setting at midnight.

Our view as we finally made our way to the sauna cottage.

We both promptly woke up at three am when the sun rose again. They say in Finland Midsummer is not sleeping, but for feasting. I may be too old...

Same view at three am today.

Wives and squirrels

I woke up this morning to the news that a wife carrying competition is going to take place in Finland later today. That time already, I thought. This, the 15th Eukonkanto World Championships in Sonkajärvi is an annual bizarre news item on the BBC. Somehow, every year, it fires the news editor's imagination.

As a Finn, I'm fairly used to being the odd one out in a room, answering questions about strange happenings in my native land; or customs of my countrymen. Take the sauna culture. Hijacked first by Swedes, then Soho massage parlours, as a sexual activity, I'm sick of explaining that in fact it's an age old tradition to clean oneself and that the nakedness is purely a practical state. I often add that it's a fairly difficult affair to actually have sex in temperatures above 80C. And that in no way do you have a group of friends of different sexes go into a sauna together. Unless of course you're sixteen and very drunk. This is usually the point when the person I'm speaking to sees someone they know on the other side of the room.

But over the years it's occurred to me that the English, far from disapproving of the weird and wonderful activities of us Finns, actually quite envy us. And that the British themselves are quite strange. And that I married one of these eccentrics. Rather than scoff at the naked sauna culture, or the lack of embarrassment in nudity, Husband has embraced it.

So when I ran into the spare bedroom after hearing a loud shot this morning and saw him standing at the window naked, holding a gun, (no jokes please) with a mad look in his eyes, saying, 'I got it!' I wasn't that surprised. When I enquired why he'd felt the need to shoot the squirrel, now lying rigid on the grass next to the half-dead plum tree, he calmly said, 'He was eating my nuts.' Again, I just saw the funny side of it.

But after a few minutes I started to worry: shooting squirrels who rob food from bird feeders may be a problem when we're living in NW3.