I have been reading a book about the fells in Lapland, written by Kaarina Kari. (In Finnish, Haltin valloitus.) She tells of her trips to Lapland in the 1930s, in a way that captures the rugged environment and the keen interest she and her friends had for exploring Lapland.
One feels as if she had been intoxicated with the views from the fells. And she really liked walking, that is for sure. And sometimes even she got lost, which is a bit of consolation on what happened in Nuuksio yesterday.
(Posting title is from the poem Consolation by Wisława Szymborska, translated by Clare Cavanagh and Stanislaw Baranczak.)
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