'If schnapps, birch and sauna don’t work, you’re probably dead,” was the advice from our guide, Lars, at the end of a long and tiring day in Harads, a tiny village halfway between Luleå on the frozen Gulf of Bothnia and Jokkmokk, the heart of Sami territory, in Swedish Lapland.
A forest berry flavoured schnapps (confusingly called porc) was the prelude to a 10-minute walk along snow-cut paths through a silent birch forest to find the sauna in question.
A round, two-storey wooden planked building deep in the woods, with portholes and icicle-hung ship’s guard wires on an outside spiral staircase, this particular sauna is in the middle of the Treehotel, where you sleep in one of a collection of architectural fantasies suspended high in the forest.
The man behind Treehotel, Kent Lindvall, was on a fishing trip in Russia’s Kola Peninsula (it has the best salmon rivers in the world, he assures me). His companions were three architects and around the campfire they started speculating about the perfect tree-house, inspired by the film Trädälskaren (Treelover).
A perfect mirrored cube that disappears among the trees, said one. No, a straightforward cabin, but high up for the view, said another. Wrong, said the third – the answer’s obviously a bird’s-nest big enough for people. That’s when Kent, the co-owner (with his wife Britta) of a guesthouse and an area of forest, had his idea. “Let’s do it,” he said. “Let’s build them all.”
My tree-house was none of these (50 more architects from around the world are queuing up to hang their ideas in the Lindvall’s woods), but the Blue Cone; which is (of course) a bright red pyramid.
Inside it’s a bit like camping in Ikea – the pine walls are, thankfully, a soft and restful grey rather than bright red, there are sheepskin-covered armchairs, and bathrobes and slippers for that walk up to the sauna.
Each tree-house has its own character – the bird’s-nest is completely circular and has little round windows, while the bed in the cabin faces an enormous window and a breathtaking view. Instead of taps there’s water in a clever inverted bottle, while the slightly daunting, but very green Cinderella loo produces nothing but fine ash. For showers you go to the sauna house.
Sleeping late is easy at this time of year – the sun rises at around eight and sets at five – but outside there’s plenty to do, even in the sub-Arctic spring and winter. Simple things, like going for a walk in the woods on snowshoes, pausing now and then to watch your breath curl like smoke or admire reindeer looking for food.
Then there are places like Camp Brandon, a log cabin village by the sea, where there’s everything from ice- driving in go-karts for aspiring Clarksons to open-air hot tubs where you can stargaze after a gourmet dinner in a log fire-warmed tepee on the frozen surface.
An icebreaking tug keeps the sea lanes open into Pite Havsbad – the captain will take passengers and, with a certain dour humour, help them into orange survival suits to take a refreshing dip in the channel made by his boat.
For those who are even more adventurous, there’s driving snowmobiles across the ice or (with a bit of training) through the woods of the Luleå coastline. Anyone over the age of 16 can drive with a licence, though this being Sweden there are quite clear rules and speed limits that most people stick to, plus occasional police checks on the sobriety of drivers.
Although the snowmobile is Sarah Palin’s preferred mode of transport, the number of users in social democratic Sweden suggest that taking the handlebars doesn’t necessarily mean an immediate swerve to the right.
One woman in our group who rode as a passenger behind Goran, a clean-cut hunter who can skin a reindeer with his Sami knife and cook a fish fresh-caught through the ice, returned breathlessly confirming they have a definite caveman appeal.
In fact, the snowmobile is just the best way of getting around this snowy world, though the dog sled comes a close second.
I met Caisa Ohlsson, a Swedish champion musher who thinks nothing of travelling across the wilderness for days alone, or with her husband Ulf (whose name, watchful silence and grey beard suggest a strong affinity to their wolf-like pack). Her dogs are Alaskan huskies, tough and adapted to the conditions.
Lead dog Chattanooga’s cold blue eyes belie intelligence and friendliness; the dogs respond perfectly to the Swedish for left and right or high-pitched yips and yabba-yabba-yabbas, Caisa constantly praising and scolding each one by name. The dogs can travel all day at 14-18mph, pulling a loaded sled of bent wood joined by leather twine that creaks and flexes as the reindeer-skin seat glides over the snow.
Like many of the people I met, Caisa and her family are passionate about this wild, hard part of the world in which they have chosen to live.
It was -4F (-20C) when I landed, the ice-clad trees making even Luleå’s airport seem like fairyland. Deep-winter temperatures regularly drop to -40F (-40C), and -10F (-23C) is considered balmy.
Roads are kept open, whether on land or on the sea (a network of ice roads, complete with road signs and tested up to six tonnes, links the islands of the archipelago in winter, so you can visit untouched villages like Jopikgarden on Hinderson island, with its sweet old-fashioned restaurant).
Even Lars managed to get the car stuck here, but neighbours with a tractor and towrope were there in minutes to pull us out. Hardship here makes the Big Society an everyday fact of life.
You’d think food would be functional here, too, but there’s a strong northern Swedish traditional cuisine which draws on highly seasonal but abundant fresh ingredients. There’s lean, tender moose and reindeer meat, of course, all of it wild and locally sourced.
At Kaptensgården, in Gammelstad, just by the stone church surrounded by gorgeous little wooden houses, built in 1492 as a last outpost of Catholicism in the face of would-be Russian expansion, we had perfect Arctic char with light saffron sauce and, as a starter, delicious bleak roe (or lojrom). This is a caviar-like Baltic delicacy in which there is an illegal trade allegedly managed, in what sounds like an unlikely plot twist from Stieg Larrson, by the Lapland chapter of the Hell’s Angels.
Summer offers a chance to gather cloudberries, blueberries and the heavenly akerbar – each berry picked by hand then conserved as jams and sauces that perfectly complement the meat or puddings. And if all that’s too refined for you, Luleå has its hot-dog stands, where you can fight off the chill with korv, onions and a toasted roll.
Back at the Treehotel, Kent’s wife Britta cooks all these local dishes and more with great skill. It’s easy to spend time in the comfortable old guesthouse, but sooner or later you have to brave the walk up to your tree-house in the woods.
The schnapps is certainly a help, and then the sauna awaits. The relaxation room downstairs doubles as a mixed changing room (don’t expect too much privacy – this is Sweden and there’s an inside ladder to the sauna, unless you’re brave enough for the outside stairs.
Afterwards you may feel (as I did) that the birch twig beating is unnecessary – but to feel completely alive there’s simply nothing to compare with diving into the crisp, three-foot-deep snow outside, followed by the warmth of a duvet in your house among the trees.
What to avoid
!Freezing to death is best avoided. Seriously – this is a cold place. It was -4F (-20C) when I arrived and 14F (- 10C) when I left, but the week before it was -40F (-40C). Only call it Lapland if you still believe in Father Christmas; the people are Sami and their territory is called Sapme. Wild animals. Not nearly as dangerous as the cold, but the bear and wolf population is growing. Bill Bryson says there are two ways to avoid bears; either attach little bells to your clothes so they can hear you coming, or look out for fresh bear poo. (You can spot it by the little bells in it.) Don’t get too excited about the northern lights. Cloud and the uncertainty of the phenomenon make seeing them a bonus, not an aim; but it’s a truly unforgettable experience if you do. When out with the huskies, as ever, avoid the yellow snow.
The Inside track
Best Served Scandinavia (see above) can provide outer thermal suits and snowboots for excursions.
You should love the traditional crafts, music and cooking; look out for gorgeous bone carvings and knitwear to bring home, and wander Luleå’s shopping district for Bastukallaren (everything you need for the sauna), Sami shops and model railway shop Modelljarnvagsspecialisten.
Luleå is noted for steel and paper rather than tourism; but you really don’t need to travel too far for the full Lapland experience.
Take thermals, several layers of warm clothes, waterproof outers, two pairs of gloves and socks, thermal boots, a hat or two and a headtorch. Listen to advice about when and where to go outside.
Bring back jars of cloudberries and akerbar; Sami carvings and knitwear; reindeer skins and lojrom.
For information visit www.swedishlapland.com (http://www.swedishlapland.com) , which details flights, accommodation and activities – everything from Pippi Longstocking to ice hockey.
