It feels colder out here than back at the resort as we enter a gully with steep rocks on either side of us, unusual in the flat landscape. My nostrils prickle and I can feel my airways constricting in the arctic chill.
‘How much further?’
‘Everything in life worth having requires some effort and patience,’ he says. ‘It’s just through this ravine then a climb to the top of the reach. Keep going, you’re doing great.’
I make a concerted effort to keep my legs moving and just as I’m approaching the limits of my endurance I realise we’ve arrived at the top. Looking behind me I see the truck only a few metres below us, but I feel like I’ve conquered Everest. And that’s when I face forwards again and notice it down below us, like a sunken gothic cathedral of melted candle wax sheltered inside a small, rugged gorge cutting through the forest.
‘Theseare the frozen falls.’ Stellan’s beaming proudly as though he’s carved them himself.
‘Wow!’ That’s all I can manage under the circumstances as I take in the magnificent sight of what must, in the warmer months, be a mighty waterfall, now magically suspended in thick layers of icicles, some transparent like crystal, some opaque and icy blue, others shining and golden as though lit from inside.
‘They’re nothing like as big as the Korouoma falls but they’re more remote so you don’t get as many tourists here. I’d be surprised if anyone’s been here for weeks.’
I don’t know anything about this other, rival waterfall, but there’s no way it can be prettier than the sight I’m beholding right now. ‘Can we get down there?’ I ask in wonder, not quite able to trust my eyes. Maybe I’ll be able to believe what I’m seeing if I can actually reach out and touch it.
‘Follow me.’ Stellan deftly leads me down into what feels like the chancel of a frozen church. There’s a perceptible change in the crunching sounds of the snow under our feet and I become aware that below us and the thick layer of powder is a deep pool of frozen water.
‘In the summer, I swim right here,’ says Stellan.
I think instantly of all the things I would give to see that sight. ‘It must be stunning,’ I say. ‘The waterfall, I mean.’
‘Oh, it is. My mother used to bring me and my sister here when we were kids. We’d have a cook out, and we’d dive into the water from that ledge over there.’
He’s pointing to a snowy outcrop jutting from what I’m assuming must be craggy rock when it isn’t encased in glittering ice. The ledge is nearly twice Stellan’s height; I have no idea how he summoned up the courage to plunge from that precipice into the water below as a child.
‘Is the water warm in the summer?’
‘It’ssocold. But it’s clear enough that you can see the pebbles at the bottom.’
He’s got a hazy look in his eyes remembering his childhood summers and daredevil antics, and I’m happy for him. It means he had some joyful moments with his family as a kid, even though it doesn’t sound like his dad was present during those trips to the waterfall. I won’t ask him about that; I wouldn’t cause him pain right now for anything in the world.
‘So… are we going to have a picnic?’ I say, aware that my stomach is rumbling under my many thermal layers. The fruit plate and herbal tea back at the spa really didn’t cut it as fuel for a wintry trek through deep snow and Lappish forests.
‘Here, have this.’
He hands me a chocolate bar in a pink floral wrapper, and I melt a bit because I see his smile as he gives his gift. He’s delighted to make me happy. I thank him and gleefully take my thick outer gloves off and tear at the wrapper with my teeth.
Stellan swings the backpack off his shoulders and sets it on the snow. ‘That should keep you alive until I cook lunch.’
‘Should do, but I was nearly a goner for a moment there!’ I snap a piece of chocolate from the bar, reach over and pop it into Stellan’s mouth, which he opens for me before snapping his teeth shut, pretending to bite at my fingers, and we both laugh again.
How is this so easy? How can two people have this kind of connection and be expected to live two thousand kilometres apart?
There I go again.Less of that!I chastise myself as I munch the creamy hazelnut milk chocolate. Life is sweet right this second. What more can I ask for?
‘You can sit over there, look.’ Stellan stops unpacking items from the bag, which I see contains a small gas camping stove – not a fiddly little thing like Dad would pack for my childhood trips to Anglesey; this is a sturdy army-issue looking contraption. I wonder how the hell he managed to carry that on his back, and turn conspicuously swoony at the thought of his strength.
I realise he’s still pointing behind me to a wide fissure in the great folding curtain of ice cascading from the frozen waterfall, and I clamber into it, sitting down on what, I decide to fantasise, is a broad icy throne.
Stellan laughs as I settle myself with a satisfied smile.
‘Comfy?’
‘Yep. What are you cooking?’
‘Ever hadmuikku?’
‘Never heard of it,’ I say, as I watch him rest a frying pan over a flaming gas bottle.
