Stories from filming trips
The northern lights don't tell
The title seems to be the name of Mauri Sariola's novel from 1957. By the way, in Rikosjännär you move in the milieu and scenery of the old Pallashotelli. Today,...
The northern lights don't tell
The title seems to be the name of Mauri Sariola's novel from 1957. By the way, in Rikosjännär you move in the milieu and scenery of the old Pallashotelli. Today,...
On the moon
I parked my car in the quiet courtyard of Hotel Äkäskero. I felt a little guilty, because I did see a sign announcing that parking is prohibited for people other...
On the moon
I parked my car in the quiet courtyard of Hotel Äkäskero. I felt a little guilty, because I did see a sign announcing that parking is prohibited for people other...
On the road to Peurakaltio
It was about 10 degrees below zero and the snow was slowly falling. I didn't take the well-trodden route to get up to Äkäskero, the monkey walking along its side...
On the road to Peurakaltio
It was about 10 degrees below zero and the snow was slowly falling. I didn't take the well-trodden route to get up to Äkäskero, the monkey walking along its side...
February skiing story
It was snowing. Light flakes flew steadily and covered the old snow in a thick powdery layer where the skis floated invisible. There was no clear track left in my...
February skiing story
It was snowing. Light flakes flew steadily and covered the old snow in a thick powdery layer where the skis floated invisible. There was no clear track left in my...
A poor man's Yellowstone
At Lake Pyhäjärvi, it feels cold on the cheekbones when I go to cross the opening marked with branches. For several days, the wind that has been blowing from the...
A poor man's Yellowstone
At Lake Pyhäjärvi, it feels cold on the cheekbones when I go to cross the opening marked with branches. For several days, the wind that has been blowing from the...
On the fells
I climb the slope of the fell. The evening sun shines obliquely behind me and reddens the gray stone and warms my anorak-clad back. After a turn, my feet find...
On the fells
I climb the slope of the fell. The evening sun shines obliquely behind me and reddens the gray stone and warms my anorak-clad back. After a turn, my feet find...