Someone once asked me how I feel about all this tourism and what it means to us Finns. It’s a fair question, because the Lapland most foreigners imagine is often very different from the one we carry in our hearts.

To many visitors, Lapland is Santa Claus, reindeer, husky rides, and neatly packaged winter experiences. And sure, those things exist. Families with small children might visit Santa’s Village once or twice, and snowmobiling is genuinely popular among Finns as well. Reindeer, of course, are a real part of Lapland life.

But for most of us, this isn’t what Lapland is primarily about.

After all, in Finland Santa Claus doesn’t live in a theme park, he comes to everyone’s home personally on Christmas Eve. That’s the main thing about Christmas for us.

Husky rides are not common activities at all, even thought it could be.

Reindeer sledding trips and similar activities are mostly aimed at foreign tourists, and that’s perfectly fine.

Still, if I could choose one version of Lapland that every visitor would get to experience, it would be something very different.

It would be untouched wilderness, silence, and tranquility.

It’s the moment when you sit by a campfire and hear the frost crackle in the trees. The northern lights suddenly dance across a star-filled sky. There are no other sounds. No flashing lights. No traffic, no crowds, no rush. Just darkness, snow, and peace.

And you don’t even have to travel deep into the wilderness to feel this. Sometimes it’s enough to walk a kilometer from the village on snowshoes, moving quietly among the snowy trees, heavy with snow like frozen sculptures.

After the hike comes one of the best parts: a hot sauna. Maybe ice swimming or rolling around in the snow afterward. Naked, of course. That’s the Finnish way.

Then you eat well. Maybe in a small, picturesque restaurant with a warm atmosphere and dim lights. Because nothing tastes better than good food after a long day of cross-country skiing or spending hours on the ski slopes in freezing temperatures. Sometimes it’s even simpler: coffee and doughnuts in a tiny wilderness café, where time seems to stand still.

This is our Lapland