Ruissalo – looking for island happiness

And at the end of the street is a house by the lake

They are small green pearls in the Baltic Sea. The archipelago islands, which stretch in the sea southwest of Turku, form one of the most beautiful archipelagos in the world. Among the more than 20,000 islands, there is something for everyone. Be it a bare, small wasteland with a tiny cabin by the sea far away from any ferry connection or a large, wooded island with nice cafes and fishing spots. In any case, one thing is clear – if you talk to the inhabitants of Turku, sooner or later you will be raved about the archipelago islands. It seems as if Turku is paradise on earth. Since crushes are known to be contagious, curiosity is soon aroused in me.

Although the end of December is definitely not a high season on the archipelago islands, I used a half-day in Turku to get my first taste of the “archipelago air”. Bus No. 8 runs from the Market Square in Turku to Ruissalo. In winter, the line is served hourly and the journey takes just under 30 minutes.

Ruissalo is connected to the mainland by a bridge and is one of the larger islands of the Turku archipelago. It is characterized by extensive forest areas, including the oldest oak stands in Finland. So there is also a good chance of spotting one or the other moose (at least if you believe the traffic signals).

In summer, there is an extensive network of bicycles and campsites or the Ruissalo Spa. In winter… well, in winter, Ruissalo has its own charm. We walk from the Ruissalo Spa stop to the far end of the island with what is probably the only sandy beach. Here we sit down for a moment and let our gaze wander into the distance. On the horizon, the grey of the sky merges almost seamlessly into the grey of the Baltic Sea. Only the early sunset makes a narrow strip “bright” shine. It’s hard to imagine camping guests frolicking here in summer and roasting in the sun.

By the way, we also found it on the way, the house by the lake. One day we will return and spend balmy summer nights with the fishing route in our hands and Peter Fox in our ears in a lonely archipelago idyll.