Russians and rasberries

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Day Nine
July 29th 2011
Imatra to Kouvola

Imatra is a town at the southern border of Finland and Russia in the region of Karelia, a large part of which was lost to Finland after World War II. In the 1800’s and early 1900's, it was the holiday playground of the Russian Aristocracy, and The Imatra Valtio Hotel is a spectacular reminder of those elegant pre-world war days. It is situated next to the Imatra rapids, now dammed for hydroelectricity, but then raging down the gorge outside the windows.
The magnificent salons are richly decorated in an art deco style, and I could imagine the tsar and entourage spending time in the library room, and strolling down the edge of the rapids. A picture of Tsar Nicholas II and his Tsarina hangs in the formal dining room, still gazing out at the diners.
In one gallery hangs the “independence chain” to which a link is added for each year since Finland gained independence from Russia in 1917.This is a long standing tradition since 1966 (?!) and the honour of attaching the new link is always given to some notable in town.
Outside the building there are many decorative features, the quaintest of which is the black cat on the roof-top. No one could tell me why there is a black cat on the roof, but there she has perched since the hotel was opened over 100 years ago in 1903.

We then followed the footsteps of the Russian tsars, and walked to the gorge where the rapids used to roar. They still do so once a day through the summer for 20 minute spurts, punctually at 6pm. The brave are also able to fly over the raging waters in a flying fox type apparatus, (and I suppose bring up their lunch).
A few craft shops were next on the agenda, one which had many items with painted statements in the broad karelian dialect, irresistible, and I purchased several.

Lunch at the best restaurant in town was the finale of our stay in Imatra. The Buttenhoff is a russian style restaurant, with dark, ornate antique furniture, heavy with lace, burgundy velvet and soft lighting.
This time I ate Rudolph; Santa will need a new reindeer this Christmas.
I feel that I am slowly eating my way through the native flora and fauna of Finland, and all of it, besides the disaster soup has been excellent.
Finns eat their meals at different times to Australians. Breakfast is an important meal, Lunch is the main meal of the day, and many restaurants advertise a “Lounas Poyta”
(Lunch table). Dinner is a simpler affair, bread and soup with salad and juice or similar, often eaten around 5 pm. The long summer evening is completed by a simple snack often around 9pm. I feel that I’m eating all day long. Finns are nothing if not hospitable, and offers of coffee come thick and fast. I have a fairly good caffeine tolerance, but in the country of the largest coffee consumers in the world, I’m having trouble keeping up (or maybe asleep). Finns apparently drink 10 kg of coffee per person each year, This is about 5 cups per day.

In the afternoon we arrived at yet another aunt’s summer home near Kouvola – back towards Helsinki. Aunt Kaija calls her little picturesque summer cottage her strawberry place – meaning it is the little slice of heaven for her.
We sat in her little kitchen and ate freshly cooked waffles with raspberries picked this morning and several cups of coffee, and afterwards sat and talked in a swing under an apple tree. Yep- it’s real.

In preparation to go to a family reunion, held once every three years, tomorrow we spent the evening and night at their very modern town apartment.
Big family day tomorrow. Best rest up.

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Photos

The Valtio Hotel entrance
Playground of the russian Tsars

Poor Rudolph
served with mashed potato and fresh cranberries