How to write about Kiruna?
First of all, for those who don’t know anything about
Kiruna, Sweden, let me fill you in on what I learned this weekend.
Kiruna, Sweden is a city in the Arctic Circle, one of
the better-known cities in Lappland (an area that spans Norway, Sweden, Finland
and Russia and was once only occupied by the Sami people, indigenous people of
this area).
It is a lovely place, and is often brimming with
tourists during the summer and the deep winter.
(We weren’t the only tourists there, but there weren’t many of us.)
We missed out on skiing down Lusovaari, and the sled
dog rides.
It is a mining town.
There is an iron ore mine not far from the city center that one can
always hear ‘whirring’ in the distance.
But it is a very quiet place. There aren’t many birds chirping or crickets
clicking, so it’s very quiet.
They are moving the town.
That’s right. They are moving the town because there
is “iron in them thar hills”, and they would like to mine for it. Consequently, the iron is underneath most of
the town. This begs me to question, “do
they/we REALLY need the iron ore that bad?”
But that is a discussion for another day.
Although I didn’t see any Northern Lights, the Arctic
Circle did not disappoint!
Friday when we arrived at the Kiruna Airport, my
friend and I were giggling like tourists about the “one airplane airport” that
we landed at. It was very different than
every other airport I had seen, and we were just trying to take in all of the
hills (and mountains) in the distance.
We walked around the town for a little bit, checked
into our hostel a little early, and then explored the rest of the town. It’s really not that big, and we managed to
see all of the sites in my travel book in one afternoon. We had several moments wondering, “what are
we going to do tomorrow?”
We saw the historic Kiruna Kyrka, build to resemble a
Sami hut, and we went back to listen to some organ music and songs later on
Friday evening. When we entered we were
given a candle and we got to go to the front of the church to light it and leave
it on the altar. We weren’t really sure
why we had candles, or what kind of music/worship service this was, but it was
beautiful. The church was dark and the
candles sent light flickering to the ceiling.
Turns out it was a Memory Service, music to reflect on
and pray with for those who have died.
Although we didn’t know that until afterwards it was very peaceful and
serene.
We met a lovely family who was sharing the hostel with
us, and they told us all about the mountains surrounding Kiruna. They also agreed to take us to the top of
Lusovaari in the morning so that we could hike down.
Oh, and what a view. My pictures will never be able to
do justice to the excitement I felt there.
I’m just a small-town girl from Ohio who gasps and smiles like a child
when she sees mountains. On the summit
of Lusovaari we could see for miles – probably halfway to Norway, and we could
hear sled dogs howling in the wind. It
was incredible.
We had the choice to hike down one side of the hill –
where the ski lift was, it was a straight shot back down the hill to Kiruna,
and not very exciting, so we decided to walk and explore the other side of the
hill. We hiked for about 2 hours, around
the backside of the hill, past another mining site, abandoned some time ago,
and found our way back into town. That
hike was unlike any I’ve been on before and I couldn’t help stopping once in a
while to just smile and laugh and realize where I was and register what I was
seeing.
We had lunch back at the hostel and relaxed a
bit. We gained some roommates, backpackers
from the Czech Republic who had been in the mountains for 10 days. It was good that they came to the hostel a
day earlier than they had planned because on Sunday morning I awoke to my
friend pointing out the window and smiling.
I looked, and I just saw white. Oh great, more fog, I thought. But with my bleary, contact-less eyes I
couldn’t yet see that Christmas had come early!
It had snowed, and snowed a lot on the last day of
summer. Even the Swedish family staying
in the hostel with us said this was odd.
Now no one can tell me I didn’t experience winter in
Sweden!
My way back to Stockholm took all afternoon, and when
I arrived at my T-bana stop it was pouring rain. I ran some of the way home and then gave up
running because I was already soaked and arrived at my door drenched.
Funny how the weather can change in an instant. It’s kind of like Ohio, so I feel right at
home.
Hej då från Sverige!
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