Gazing at the mounds of blindingly white snow around her, perforated by pine trees and pathways compacted hard by the tread of boots and runners of sleds, Julia started to wonder why on earth she had chosen to come to such a cold, unforgiving place.
‘In fact,’ she ruminated miserably, ‘this isn’t just cold.’
This was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before: the endless, dark sky, the bitter, icy air, the utter sense of emptiness.
Despite wearing more layers than a millefeuille, she was frozen to the bone, the wind whipping away her body heat in an instant, leaving her feeling numb all over.
It had all seemed so magical a year ago, when she’d started planning her trip to Ivalo, the folkloric home of Santa Claus. It had been on her bucket list for years. She’d almost forgotten how many times she’d leafed through brochures, spent hours browsing the internet, fantasising about exhilarating husky treks through the forests, curling up with hot chocolate at the end of the day and wrapping up to go out in search of the elusive aurora borealis – the northern lights.
Of course, she hadn’t planned to be alone. This was a trip she’d talked about endlessly with Alexa. They’d compiled their Lapland to-do list together. Even now, she could recall Alexa reeling off her list: ‘We’ll do a reindeer sleigh ride, then we’ll experience a real Finnish sauna and run out and roll in the snow naked!’ she’d laughed. Julia blushed at the memory.
‘The next day, we can do a snowmobile safari, then we’ll go ice fishing,’ Alexa had gushed. ‘Oh, and the auroras, of course! We need to make sure we’re always looking up at night-time…’
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