AT ALTITUDE AN ARTS COUNCIL COLLECTION NATIONAL PARTNER EXHIBITION AND OMER FAST: 5000 FEET IS THE BEST 2 JUNE – 30 SEPTEMBER FREE ADMISSION townereastbourne.org.uk Image: Mishka Henner, Unknown Site, Noordwijk aan Zee, South Holland, 2011. Arts Council Collection, Southbank Centre, London, Courtesy of the artist. © the artist
COLUMN ........................... Lizzie Enfield Notes from North Village I go directly to jail: from the airport to the west wing of Helsinki prison, through heavy, padlocked iron gates to a cell, from which only high impenetrable walls are visible. This is where I am staying, thankfully for one night only, because although Katajanokka jail is now a luxury sleek Finnish design hotel, no amount of blond Scandi flooring and crisp cotton sheets can obliterate the sense of being incarcerated. My room’s thick walls and tiny windows mean I sleep through the light summer night, though I can’t help wondering who its previous inhabitants were and what crimes they committed. Am I in a murderer’s cell or a rapist’s bed? The names of inmates are still scratched into the tables of the prison refectory where I have breakfast – no porridge – and down the hallway, staff are preparing for a wedding. It’s a popular place to get married, apparently, which seems bizarre. Usually, at least at the start, people tend not to think of marriage as a life sentence but perhaps the Finns’ approach is more pragmatic. I’m here to write a piece for a magazine: 48 hours in Finland. After signing my release papers (aka checking out) I head for the Nuuksio National Park, a vast wilderness just 40k from the city centre. Finland calls itself the country of 30,000 lakes and Kattilajärvi (kettle) Lake seems an apt choice of canoeing spot for someone who really loves tea. I spend the next few hours paddling through crystal-clear waters, beside forested shores, stopping on a tiny island to snack on cinnamon buns and rice pasties, although, sadly, there is nowhere to put the kettle on. Later in the day I am deposited at the Tentsile Eco Campsite in the heart of the park, where my bed for the night is a triangular tent, suspended between trees high above the forest floor. It’s the start of the season and I am the only camper. The site manager shows me how to hoist myself up into the tent and tells me not to light a fire. There’s been no rain for a month and there’s a risk of forest fires, he says, before jumping in his jeep to drive home to civilization. It’s a beautiful spot. My treetop perch overlooks a vast lake, where I swim with a couple of curious geese before trying to settle down for the night, listening to the sound of cuckoos and the slightly unnerving squawk of cormorants, or, as the Finns call them, ‘black-throated divers’. I should be relishing the sense of freedom but I spend the night worrying alternately about being alone in the middle of nowhere and encountering one of the former inmates of the jail, and burning to death in my suspended sleeping bag. I survive and spend the following day paddle boarding and picnicking on Hawk Lake before heading back to the airport, trying to think up puns about having done my time in Helsinki and Finnished my sentence. Illustration by Joda (@joda_art) ....37....