A border and a dying town
Captain Antti Vahe of the Finland Border Control was reflective: "at it's peak, this crossing (to Russia) saw 7 million crossings a year. Now, nothing ".
We had arranged this meeting before coming here. Before riding across the country heading east, always east. Before riding the gravel roads through the forests. Before riding the last 20 miles of perfect tarmac in silence, with no accompanying traffic, past warehouses and malls designed to cater for the Rouble, now shuttered and desolate. It felt as if some terrible catastrophe had happened here amongst the lakes and forests and lush arable farmland, and all the people had gone. "Those cars", said the Captain, pointing to the no-mans land between Russia and Finland, "have been there for years".
Captain Vahe is proud of this region, his country. His grandmother was made homeless twice by the Russians, in 1939 and 1945. "We are the defence for Finland, for the EU, for NATO. It's real".
On the border is the once prosperous town of Nuijamma, now crumbling with the possible consequences of military action. "Yes, we worry", a resident told us. "The young have gone, the jobs have gone, the money has gone. Now it's just us old folk, and no-one will buy our houses." The weeds are doing well here, the people not so much.
I swim in the lake, on the Finland side of the posts in the water. Blue for Finland, Red for Russia. "Don't swim past the posts", Captain Vahe said. "If you do, I'll be doing paperwork for a month".
Captain Antti Vahe of the Finland Border Control was reflective: "at it's peak, this crossing (to Russia) saw 7 million crossings a year. Now, nothing ".
We had arranged this meeting before coming here. Before riding across the country heading east, always east. Before riding the gravel roads through the forests. Before riding the last 20 miles of perfect tarmac in silence, with no accompanying traffic, past warehouses and malls designed to cater for the Rouble, now shuttered and desolate. It felt as if some terrible catastrophe had happened here amongst the lakes and forests and lush arable farmland, and all the people had gone. "Those cars", said the Captain, pointing to the no-mans land between Russia and Finland, "have been there for years".
Captain Vahe is proud of this region, his country. His grandmother was made homeless twice by the Russians, in 1939 and 1945. "We are the defence for Finland, for the EU, for NATO. It's real".
On the border is the once prosperous town of Nuijamma, now crumbling with the possible consequences of military action. "Yes, we worry", a resident told us. "The young have gone, the jobs have gone, the money has gone. Now it's just us old folk, and no-one will buy our houses." The weeds are doing well here, the people not so much.
I swim in the lake, on the Finland side of the posts in the water. Blue for Finland, Red for Russia. "Don't swim past the posts", Captain Vahe said. "If you do, I'll be doing paperwork for a month".
