Visiting the Santa Claus village in Lapland
Visiting the Santa Claus village in Lapland
In Arctic Circle's Lapland lies Santa Claus Village. Meet Santa in the flesh, his elves and reindeers, and the postmen who sort through kids' letters.
Rovaniemi, the capital of Finnish Lapland occupies a strange position between the border of Arctic Circle and a fairytale. At Christmas time, the landscape is big-bad-wolffierce white. The sun comes out for a couple of hours each day like a truant boy, and the blue-black winter night throws up the opportunity to witness the aurora borealis or northern lights — nature's tiffany in the night skies.
In the midst of the quintessential winter goings-on of dog sleds and snowmobile rides, ice-fishing and skiing, there's much to be done at Santa Claus Village. Located eight kilometres north of Rovaniemi, you can visit the village any time of the year and meet Santa. But, a visit at Christmas time, when traditions receive a worthy if somewhat self-conscious kiss of life, feels a bit like celebrating a birthday.
The story goes that the tradition of Santa Claus stems from Saint Nicholas, who was known for his love of children, seafarers and charitable work. Several cultures claim to be the original home of Santa. Lapland, however, has its own definitive version. Laplanders believe that Santa, who lived originally in Ear Mountain in Korvatunturi (a fell in Lapland located within Urho Kekkonen National Park) was so removed from and inaccessible to the public, that he created a second home in the Arctic Circle near Rovaniemi.
In Santa park, you can visit Santa's cavern, and across the Arctic Circle underground, you can watch an elf show (real people, I assure you) attend a gingerbread workshop, and meet Santa and have your photo taken with him. Gifts and souvenirs are available at the village, and if you'd like to be close to the holiday cheer, hire a cabin at the village.
En route the village lies a reindeer farm where an encounter with the Samis, the traditional inhabitants of Lapland, makes me wonder whether the Santa Village will loom large in amusement park-like contrast. You'd too — the Samis have a remarkably straightforward approach to life, their functional layered-on clothes leave little space for vanity, and herding reindeer for a living must make a stoic of the most naive of us.
Remarkably however, the entire unfolding scape, with its tall towers, snowmen grinning over big white fields, the familiar and comforting soundtrack of carols, elves swaggering around gift shops, sled rides in the snow in the twinkling light of myriad Christmas trees, folks sitting by the fireplace and writing letters in the Santa Post Office — which receives close to half a million letters each year — is all saved from death by whimsy. Not only because it is a lot of fun in an understated, tasteful Finnish way, but also because, despite all the logic one applies to these things, nothing of the urbane world is perhaps quite as outlandishly attractive as the looming possibility of an encounter with Santa.
The embarrassment stems not from the fact that Santa is the playing out of an idiosyncratic local custom, but from the fact that as a child I clutched so fervently to the idea of him. A wise man told me once, "The things we renounce because we think the time has come, always stay etched in an archetypal memory more deeply than ideas to which we cling for dear life."
In keeping with his friendly-heart and liberal-hand image, Santa doles out bookmarks, speaks in the language he believes you are most comfortable with and brims with a raw sense of humour. The entire interaction with him is digitally recorded, which can be played back to you, if you wish. In the video, I've psychologically regressed to a five-year old perched on a digitally savvy, yet reindeer-boot wearing Santa's knee.
I am reminded of what joy and abandon feels, prompted by transcendental fantasy. In writing letters in the Santa Post Office to be sent to any part of the world with an Arctic Circle postmark, I enjoy this shift back to snail mail. In shopping for Arctic dolls in handmade Sami costumes with all their buttons and frills, I begin to appreciate the wonder of small-scale workmanship. In the endless feasts of swilled-wine and prune-filled pastries, I encounter young and old alike who forget to be either ironic in their narration of tales.
To be Santa Claus is to keep alive a tradition, which is why the questions on my mind ('What does this man do when he's not playing Santa? How was he chosen for this role?) seem foolish and irrelevant, and die on my tongue.
This isn't the story of a big burly man in a red coat and white beard, or of a frosty winter wonderland dotted with concerts and Christmas bazaars. This, right here, is an unfolding parable in snow — a way to think about life, faith, joy, kindness and all the things the world could do with a bit more of, all the things that the heart inside the big shaggy red coat really stand for.
Fact file:
Getting there: There are numerous flight routes between Mumbai and Helsinki. Finnair and Norwegian Airlines offer connecting flights from Helsinki to Rovaniemi.
Staying there: The Scandic Hotel Rovaniemi is central to most activities. For more information, visit scandichotels.fi
Santa's address: Santa Claus, Santa Claus Main Post Office, FI-96930 Arctic Circle
Visit: santaclausvillage.info and visitrovaniemi.fi/In-English/Christmas
Rovaniemi, the capital of Finnish Lapland occupies a strange position between the border of Arctic Circle and a fairytale. At Christmas time, the landscape is big-bad-wolffierce white. The sun comes out for a couple of hours each day like a truant boy, and the blue-black winter night throws up the opportunity to witness the aurora borealis or northern lights — nature's tiffany in the night skies.
In the midst of the quintessential winter goings-on of dog sleds and snowmobile rides, ice-fishing and skiing, there's much to be done at Santa Claus Village. Located eight kilometres north of Rovaniemi, you can visit the village any time of the year and meet Santa. But, a visit at Christmas time, when traditions receive a worthy if somewhat self-conscious kiss of life, feels a bit like celebrating a birthday.
The story goes that the tradition of Santa Claus stems from Saint Nicholas, who was known for his love of children, seafarers and charitable work. Several cultures claim to be the original home of Santa. Lapland, however, has its own definitive version. Laplanders believe that Santa, who lived originally in Ear Mountain in Korvatunturi (a fell in Lapland located within Urho Kekkonen National Park) was so removed from and inaccessible to the public, that he created a second home in the Arctic Circle near Rovaniemi.
In Santa park, you can visit Santa's cavern, and across the Arctic Circle underground, you can watch an elf show (real people, I assure you) attend a gingerbread workshop, and meet Santa and have your photo taken with him. Gifts and souvenirs are available at the village, and if you'd like to be close to the holiday cheer, hire a cabin at the village.
En route the village lies a reindeer farm where an encounter with the Samis, the traditional inhabitants of Lapland, makes me wonder whether the Santa Village will loom large in amusement park-like contrast. You'd too — the Samis have a remarkably straightforward approach to life, their functional layered-on clothes leave little space for vanity, and herding reindeer for a living must make a stoic of the most naive of us.
Remarkably however, the entire unfolding scape, with its tall towers, snowmen grinning over big white fields, the familiar and comforting soundtrack of carols, elves swaggering around gift shops, sled rides in the snow in the twinkling light of myriad Christmas trees, folks sitting by the fireplace and writing letters in the Santa Post Office — which receives close to half a million letters each year — is all saved from death by whimsy. Not only because it is a lot of fun in an understated, tasteful Finnish way, but also because, despite all the logic one applies to these things, nothing of the urbane world is perhaps quite as outlandishly attractive as the looming possibility of an encounter with Santa.
The embarrassment stems not from the fact that Santa is the playing out of an idiosyncratic local custom, but from the fact that as a child I clutched so fervently to the idea of him. A wise man told me once, "The things we renounce because we think the time has come, always stay etched in an archetypal memory more deeply than ideas to which we cling for dear life."
In keeping with his friendly-heart and liberal-hand image, Santa doles out bookmarks, speaks in the language he believes you are most comfortable with and brims with a raw sense of humour. The entire interaction with him is digitally recorded, which can be played back to you, if you wish. In the video, I've psychologically regressed to a five-year old perched on a digitally savvy, yet reindeer-boot wearing Santa's knee.
I am reminded of what joy and abandon feels, prompted by transcendental fantasy. In writing letters in the Santa Post Office to be sent to any part of the world with an Arctic Circle postmark, I enjoy this shift back to snail mail. In shopping for Arctic dolls in handmade Sami costumes with all their buttons and frills, I begin to appreciate the wonder of small-scale workmanship. In the endless feasts of swilled-wine and prune-filled pastries, I encounter young and old alike who forget to be either ironic in their narration of tales.
To be Santa Claus is to keep alive a tradition, which is why the questions on my mind ('What does this man do when he's not playing Santa? How was he chosen for this role?) seem foolish and irrelevant, and die on my tongue.
This isn't the story of a big burly man in a red coat and white beard, or of a frosty winter wonderland dotted with concerts and Christmas bazaars. This, right here, is an unfolding parable in snow — a way to think about life, faith, joy, kindness and all the things the world could do with a bit more of, all the things that the heart inside the big shaggy red coat really stand for.
Fact file:
Getting there: There are numerous flight routes between Mumbai and Helsinki. Finnair and Norwegian Airlines offer connecting flights from Helsinki to Rovaniemi.
Staying there: The Scandic Hotel Rovaniemi is central to most activities. For more information, visit scandichotels.fi
Santa's address: Santa Claus, Santa Claus Main Post Office, FI-96930 Arctic Circle
Visit: santaclausvillage.info and visitrovaniemi.fi/In-English/Christmas
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