Riga to Tampere Great Continental Railway Journeys

'I'm embarking on a new railway adventure

'that will take me across the heart of Europe.'

I'll be using this, my Bradshaw's Continental Railway Guide,

dated 1913, which opened up an exotic world of foreign travel

for the British tourist.

'It told travellers where to go, what to see

'and how to navigate the thousands of miles of tracks

'crisscrossing the Continent.

'Now, a century later,

'I'm using my copy to reveal an era of great optimism and energy,

'where technology, industry, science and the arts were flourishing.'

I want to rediscover that lost Europe that, in 1913,

couldn't know that its way of life

would shortly be swept aside by the advent of war.

I'm using my Bradshaw's to explore some of Europe's northern reaches.

100 years ago, the few Britons who ventured through these parts

found beautiful cities and natural wonders.

I'm beginning a rail journey through the Baltic Sea region,

passing through Latvia, Estonia and Finland.

A century ago, those countries

long vulnerable to domination by their larger neighbours

were nationally self-conscious,

although part of the Tsar's vast empire.

They chafed against attempts to make them conform to Russian ways.

If Russia went to war with Germany, they would fight over the Baltic,

but, out of the chaos, new independent states might emerge.

The Bradshaw traveller might have sensed hope for the future.

My journey starts in Riga, capital of Latvia.

Then I'll travel north to Estonia's southernmost city, Valga,

before arriving in Tartu, the nation's cultural capital.

Heading back to the Baltic Sea,

I'll explore the medieval city of Tallinn

and cross the Gulf of Finland

to visit the daughter of the Baltic,

Helsinki.

Journey's end will be Tampere, known as the Manchester of Finland.

This time, I'm caught up in a macabre medieval tournament.

They're striking at each other with their swords.

They're using their shields to strike each other's throats.

'I take an invigorating dip in the Baltic Sea...'

Argh! It's...

absolutely freezing!

'The bell tolls for me...'

Is it dangerous for the hearing?

No, no. It takes away, er...headache.

THEY LAUGH

LOUD RING

That's an enormous noise!

'I hone my barbecue skills...'

My sausage has burst a bit there. Is that all right?

'..and find peace on the water.'

Completely different and special moment.

My first stop will be Riga.

Bradshaw's tells me it's about five miles inland, up the River Dvina.

"Among the Russian Baltic cities,

"it's second only to St Petersburg in commercial importance."

Indeed, there had been a population explosion in Riga,

making it one of the Russian Empire's largest cities

and its busiest port.

I am excited to be setting foot in Latvia

for the first time in my life.

I imagine early-20th-century travellers also feeling the thrill.

The city's position on the estuary of the River Dvina, or Daugava,

helped to turn Riga into a trading centre.

But her fortunes and identity were defined by her powerful neighbours -

the rival empires of Germany and Russia.

An intriguing reference in my Bradshaw's

is that among the inhabitants are many Germans -

not Russians but Germans.

And here I am, in the Town Hall Square.

Bradshaw's points out the lofty tower of the Church of St Peter's

and the Hall of the Blackheads of Riga.

And now you look at it, it's as German as sauerkraut.

Latvia fell wholly under Russian control

by the end of the 18th century but, prior to that,

the country had been ruled by German Christian crusaders.

The 14th-century Brotherhood of Blackheads

was a Riga guild for German merchants.

But that German footprint soon fades away once you leave the old town.

'I'm keen to learn more about the history of the city

'with historian Juris Berze.'

-Hello, Juris.

-Hello.

-I'm Michael.

-Juris. Nice to meet you.

-What a lovely tram!

-Yes, indeed.

It's a lovely original vehicle

from one of the first Riga tramlines of 1901.

-Magnificent.

-Yes, absolutely.

-Looks like I am being put to work here.

-Yes.

We've got to change the points, I assume, like that.

Ah, done. Good.

-And now...we have to change the wire, yeah?

-This and this.

-From this wire to that wire?

-Yes.

-OK, here we go.

-Pull the ring towards the end.

-Yeah.

I've got to go onto this wire here.

-OK.

-Good, thank you very much. We're ready to go.

It runs very well for such an old tram.

Well, because it has been well-maintained.

It's beautiful, absolutely beautiful.

What sort of city was Riga in 1913?

It might appear to be just one large construction site,

with dozens of new, modern and sophisticated,

mostly Art Nouveau style, apartment buildings,

going up just on every other street of the city centre.

Riga was experiencing an industrial boom.

According to my Bradshaw's, its population reached 300,000 in 1911.

By 1913, it exceeded half a million.

Riga was growing into one of the largest Russian imperial cities.

It was well connected by railways to even distant parts of Russia,

which greatly facilitated transportation of raw materials

to those dozens of newly built factories.

But the facade of prosperity masked a recent period of unrest,

sparked by deepening economic crisis in Russia.

On 9th January, 1905, in St Petersburg,

more than 100 people were killed

when the Imperial Guard opened fire on a peaceful demonstration.

Certainly, the massacre at St Petersburg had

a serious consequence in Riga

and maybe, unlike anywhere else in the region, in the eastern Baltics,

Riga had tens of thousands of proletarian-class people

who, of course, were very eager to improve their living conditions

as well, and they went on the streets to demonstrate

and to demand a better life.

Four days later, a large crowd of workers

from Riga's textile mills and docks marched

onto the frozen Daugava River.

What they did not expect,

that the soldiers lined up along the embankment, would open fire,

not to let them enter the city centre.

And when that happened,

the ice partly broke and many people got drowned.

It was a big tragedy.

It's clear that more than 70 people were killed and 200 injured,

but no-one knows how many drowned.

The uprising was an important moment

in Latvia's long struggle for independence.

Finally, following the Allied victory in the First World War,

Latvians got their first taste of liberty.

It's a very impressive monument.

Well, I would not exaggerate to say

that this monument is the symbol of Latvian freedom,

the symbol of the hopes and passion of the people of this country.

The lady on the top of the monument is named Milda by people.

She is an allegory to freedom,

while the three golden stars are the symbols

of the three historic provinces of Latvia.

The 42-metre-high monument was built to honour soldiers killed

during the Latvian War of Independence in 1918.

And although it was almost demolished in 1940,

following the Soviet occupation,

it has remained a symbol of Latvian liberty.

This street is called Freedom Street today,

but in the course of the 20th century,

the name of the street has been changed several times.

So, until the First World War, for the period of 1913,

it would be called, by the Tsar, Alexander Street.

After the establishment of the Latvian state,

it was then renamed Freedom Street or Brivibas Iela.

During the Nazi occupation, it was called Adolf Hitler Strasse,

while when the Soviets re-entered the country,

they preferred to change the name to Lenin Street.

But in the year 1991, as the Latvian state was re-established,

it was once again started to be called Freedom Street.

So, really, the recent history of Latvia

can be read in the name of this street.

Absolutely. You're absolutely right. It is more than symbolic.

'Today, independent Riga is a cultural hub.'

And in the middle of this proud city, in hangars

originally built to house zeppelin airships, is the central market.

Around 3,000 vendors sell delicious products,

from fish to fresh vegetables.

If I could stay, there would be many more treasures to see,

since Riga is a UNESCO World Heritage city.

But I must press on north to Estonia and its southernmost city, Valga.

This line was built in the 19th century

to connect Riga with St Petersburg,

at a time when all Baltic trains ran towards Russia.

So, even today, if you want to travel

between the Baltic capitals of Riga and Tallinn,

there are no through services.

-Hello.

-Hello.

-Hello, do you mind if I sit here?

-Sure.

Um...

BOTTLES CLINK

-That's a promising sound, isn't it?

-Empty bottles?

-No, no, full bottles.

-And what else have I got in here?

-Oh.

-What is this?

-In Latvian, it's called "vobla".

-Vobla. Ah.

-Yes.

-And is it good?

Yeah, it's good with beer.

-With beer, OK.

-Yeah.

Would you like to explain to me how you eat this thing?

You don't need to eat it, if you like. You need to chew it.

-Chew it, yes.

-Yes.

-I can believe that, yes.

You want to take off the head.

FISH CRUNCHES

-Nice crackling sound as the head comes off.

-Yes.

-Quite smelly.

-Yeah.

Like, um...

-You can take, like, one piece, like this.

-Yeah.

-And then, like, try to chew it.

-OK, let me try that.

-It's quite a tough old fish.

-Yes, yes.

Argh!

Mmm.

Mmm, it's not bad.

-It's very tough, isn't it?

-Yes, it is tough.

-Very, very...

And it's also really salty. That's why you need beer.

That's why I need beer. Let's have some beer.

'I'm not sure I wouldn't prefer even pork scratchings.'

-And is it unusual to eat it on a train?

-Very unusual.

MICHAEL LAUGHS

The first time in my life eating fish on a train.

-We're heading for Estonia, but we have to change at Valga.

-Yeah.

-Mmm.

-No through train.

-No, not yet. Building.

Well, in the phase of development, early phase of development.

-Is that right?

-Rail Baltica.

Come here 2020, then you can reach from Tallinn to Berlin directly.

'Exciting times, because this high-speed train project

'will, for the first time ever,

'integrate the Baltic States into the Western European rail network.

'While I allow the vobla to settle, there's time to enjoy the scenery.'

I've arrived in Valga on the border between Latvia and Estonia.

This is an Estonian train. Actually, I'm IN Estonia.

I've arrived here without any passport control or customs.

Nowadays, frontiers count for so little,

but the station is still quite grand,

reminiscent of a time when frontier towns mattered.

In the early 20th century,

Estonia and Latvia decided to divide their countries by nationality,

but where the population was mixed, as in Valga,

they reverted to a natural geographical feature

to mark the boundary.

'I've completed the first leg of my journey

'and two more countries lie ahead.

'To put that in perspective, the combined area of Latvia,

'Estonia and Finland is smaller than France.

'I'm heading to the cultural capital of Estonia, Tartu,

'about an hour away.'

My first stop today will be Tartu,

which Bradshaw's tells me is an important university city.

That could be a good place to investigate

the origins of Estonian national feeling.

What was it that first made Estonians

lift up their patriotic hearts?

CHOIR SINGS TRADITIONAL ESTONIAN SONG

Tartu is an historic university city,

rather like Britain's Oxford or Cambridge.

Which may explain why, in 1869,

it became home to the first-ever Estonian National Song Festival.

CHOIR SINGS TRADITIONAL ESTONIAN SONG

A celebration of the Estonian nation's language and culture,

in defiance of German influence and Russian rule.

# Ta lendab lillest

# Lillesse

# Ja lendab mesipuu poole

# Ja touseb... #

This love of singing is in the Estonian DNA

and visitors to Estonia at the turn of the 20th century

would have heard the sound of thousands of voices

on National Song Festival day.

MUSIC: Ta Lendab Mesipuu Poole

'I'm heading to the lower town

'with its dramatic 13th-century ruined cathedral

'to hear a choir, made up of singers from Tartu.'

# Nii hing, oh hing

# Sa raskel a'al

# Kuis ohkad sa isamaa poole

# Kas kodu sa

# Kas vooral maal

# Kuis ihkad isamaa poole

# Kuis ihkad isamaa

# Poole. #

APPLAUSE

That was absolutely marvellous. You're all singing with your hearts.

What were you singing about?

It was about, um, our fatherland, flying back to the bee house,

so it's like...imaginary fatherland for him or her.

And this is, yeah,

a really important song in Estonia and for Estonian singers.

All the singing festivals usually end with this song.

-How did you feel singing that song?

-It was really holy-like.

-For us, music is what we believe in, for Estonians.

-What is it?

What does it mean to you in your life? Is it very important?

Music is almost everything to me,

especially to sing with all my friends

and the crowd stands up and everyone cries and it's amazing.

# Kuis ihkad isamaa poole. #

The extraordinary power of the voice was proved again by Estonians

in August 1989, when Estonia was united in song

in what's become known as the "Singing Revolution".

I'm meeting Tartu University professor Marju Lauristin,

a former senior politician in the Estonian parliament

who played a pivotal part in the revolution.

So, Marju, what role did singing play

in liberating Estonia from the Soviet Union?

I would say that it played a very important role in two senses.

One is direct one, meaning singing,

and the first big this kind of political singing night

was in June '88, in Tallinn, in the big Song Festival arena,

when young people started to gather spontaneously,

singing patriotic songs, waving national flags,

which then were prohibited still in the Soviet Union.

And it was like the start of the whole Singing Revolution.

And then, after that, very soon,

we had the first political gathering at the Song Festival,

with speeches, already demands for independence, for democracy.

And during Soviet time, Soviets, in this sense,

they didn't understand the meaning of that.

And they alluded, "Oh, it's ancient tradition, 19th century,

"it doesn't matter."

But this vocal and peaceful cry for freedom

led to a striking demonstration of solidarity.

The Baltic Chain is the most spectacular event

of the Baltic Singing Revolution.

People standing on the roads through Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania,

holding hands, together demonstrating

their willingness for freedom.

Two million Estonian, Latvian and Lithuanian people joined hands

to create an unbroken human chain, stretching 360 miles,

from Lithuania's capital, Vilnius, to Tallinn.

It was a spectacular thing because people, really,

they came from every place in Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania,

with cars, with bicycles.

Everybody knew where is this kilometre they have to reach

and find other people and it has also become the symbol now

for the younger generation.

They feel that it was very special, feeling this kind of unity.

-And you were there.

-I was there but I wasn't in the forest,

because I happened then to be the

vice speaker of the Estonian parliament

and I was standing on the top of Parliament House.

We have the big tower called Tall Hermann,

and I was saying, "Freedom, freedom, freedom," in three languages.

It was a very big moment in my life.

After such stirring conviviality,

I resume the journey alone, on a train taking me

to the principal city of this remarkable country.

My next stop will be Tallinn, which Bradshaw's tells me

is a naval port and capital of Estonia,

with a gothic cathedral from 1329.

It attracts many tourists looking for its medieval sites.

There are good views from the heights.

The city looks out due north over the Gulf of Finland.

Until the late 20th century, that view was skewed to the East,

but now very much to the West.

This brand-new high-speed Swiss-built train

contrasts sharply with the early Russian steam trains.

Tallinn is on the south coast of the Gulf of Finland.

First settled more than 3,000 years ago,

it's one of the oldest cities in Northern Europe.

Tallinn has a magnificent collection

of medieval and other historic buildings

and on a late spring day, when it's warm, everybody's out,

it feels like the whole city is at a party.

And it turns out that's exactly right,

because within these fairy-tale walls and towers,

Tallinn is celebrating its week-long annual festival,

Tallinn Old Town Days,

when the city is taken over by an entertaining mix of markets,

concerts and even medieval tournaments.

I've walked into a medieval joust

and what is clear is that these people are taking it seriously.

They're really fighting.

They're striking at each other with their swords,

they're using their shields to strike each other's throats.

They really mean to win.

Why are you here? What is all this about?

Well, it's a sport competition.

Knight fighting.

It's part of Old Tallinn Days' events and we come to fight,

participate, compete and take all the gold.

-Where have you come from?

-Israel.

Here you can see people from Ukraine, Belarus,

Russia, Poland, Finland, and in other events,

you can see people even from America and Latin America.

It seems to be very brutal.

-You really hit each other with your swords.

-Yes.

-You really knee each other.

-It's martial arts.

-So, it looks like your nose got a bit damaged.

-A little bit.

-It's a small one.

-What happened to your nose?

My mask, it touched my nose and, like, press a little bit.

The fight's getting very close to us here.

-It's really professional fight.

-Ah! They're down.

'The tournament lasts an exhausting eight hours

'but unable to spend all day watching knights in shining armour,

'it's time for me to take refuge back in the early 20th century.

'At the time of my guide book, trains from nearby St Petersburg

'brought Russian holiday-makers into Tallinn.

'But while the Baltic Sea is calm, it can also be very cold.

'In harsh winters, swimmers contend with swathes of ice.'

Amongst the attractions of Tallinn, according to Bradshaw's,

bathing in the Baltic Sea.

You'd have to be a lunatic to go in before midsummer.

Hello!

'But these fine men in trunks are cold-water thrill-seekers,

'who belong to the Tallinn Ice Swimming Club.'

So, I assume that you prefer swimming in the summer

when it's nice and warm.

-No, actually, the summer is the saddest time for us.

-Why?

It's just not cold enough

and we don't get this kind of cold kick from swimming

if it's zero or even minus one.

Some people compare it with narcotics, to get this ice "high".

On this spring day, the temperature in the Baltic Sea

hovers around 11 Celsius - pretty cold by British standards.

-Ready?

-Ready.

-OK.

Argh!

Argh!

Argh! It's...absolutely freezing!

Argh!

'Perhaps I shouldn't give myself

'such a hard time, because amongst these swimmers is Henri Karma,

'an ice-swimming champion.

'He's swum just over 2km in water that was only zero degrees.'

My new, rather mad friends,

have been out in the sea now for ten minutes.

I can tell you that the Baltic Sea delivers quite a kick

but, luckily, the Baltic region also supplies an antidote called balsam.

'A traditional spirit of herbs and vodka.'

Mmm.

Said once to have revived Catherine the Great,

and I don't think she'd been in the sea.

I'm staying at the St Petersbourg Hotel, which is mentioned

in this online version of my Bradshaw's guide.

It took a lot of communication to organise the Baltic Chain

and the Singing Revolution and today,

Estonians associate freedom of digital communication

with political liberty.

A vast proportion of the population is connected to the internet.

In public squares and on trains, there's properly functioning Wi-Fi.

Here, in my hotel room, I am supplied with a tablet.

Estonians vote online and register businesses online.

Not for nothing is this country sometimes nicknamed E-stonia.

In fact, we have Estonia to thank for giving the world Skype.

It was founded here, as was the first paperless parliament.

Remarkable, because just two decades ago,

half the population didn't have a telephone line.

Today, there's also a food revolution underway,

as a new Estonian cuisine emerges,

with local chefs exploiting the best ingredients from the Baltic larder.

-Hello, Kristjan.

-Ah, Michael.

-I'm Michael. Good to see you.

Hello, Kristo. Good to see you both. So, these are from the Baltic.

-Yeah.

-Yeah.

-Potato a big part of the Estonian culture?

-Absolutely.

-Huge.

-THEY LAUGH

-And this is cottage cheese.

-Cottage cheese, yeah.

-Cottage cheese.

We get it from a lovely small farm from the north of Estonia.

Usually it's done from the cow milk,

but this one here is made from the goat's milk.

'Kristjan and Kristo have developed a signature dish -

'a new take on potato rosti.'

-A little bit of sour cream.

-Ooh.

-A little bit of salted cucumbers.

We can add radishes.

And a little bit of cold-pressed grape seed oil. OK.

That looks beautiful.

'During early Soviet times in the 1920s and '30s,

'Estonian restaurants were nationalised

'and suffered from chronic ingredient shortages.

'One staple was meant to accompany

'almost every savoury food - black rye bread.

'Even today, instead of wishing one another "bon appetit",

'Estonians are prone to say "jatku leiba" - "may your bread last." '

Mmm.

That herring is delicious.

-Absolutely fresh, and just grilled and, ah... Marvellous!

-Just salted.

And congratulations on the potato cake. A really nice meal.

-Thank you.

-Thank you, Michael.

-Good health.

All over Tallinn, I see Estonian national identity being celebrated.

But the city today also displays evidence

of its history of subjugation by foreign powers.

It's evident both in the architecture

and in the sounds of the city.

BELLS RING

SINGING

Over a quarter of Estonia's 1.4 million-strong population

is of Russian descent

and the stunning Alexander Nevsky Russian Orthodox Cathedral

plays an active role in the city's religious life.

CHANTING IN OWN LANGUAGE

Father Juvenalis. I'm Michael. What a pleasure.

Great pleasure for me also to meet you in our cathedral.

This is a very beautiful cathedral, actually not very old.

It's now about 120 years.

It was consecrated just in the year, er...1900.

Like many Russian Orthodox cathedrals,

it's named after Alexander Nevsky, the 13th-century Russian prince

glorified as a saint by the Russian Orthodox Church in 1547.

Now, adoringly restored,

its interior is filled with beautiful icons,

dazzlingly covered with gold leaf.

To view one of its greatest treasures requires legwork.

-Oh, wow! This is one enormous bell!

-Yes.

-How big is this bell?

This weighs 1,000 pfund

and it will be about 16 tonnes.

-16 tonnes of bell!

-Yes.

-Do you ever ring this bell?

Yes, all the great feasts, we ring this bell.

It's called, in Church Slavonic, "Blagaya Vest".

-It means "Good News".

-The Good News Bell.

-Yes.

The bell was made in St Petersburg

and it was brought here by the railway.

-I shall ring.

-That will be marvellous. Do you think it's...?

-Is it dangerous for the hearing, do you think?

-No, no.

It takes away...headache.

THEY LAUGH

I have experienced this. It takes a little time but it's not difficult.

Even a little boy can do this, and sometimes he IS doing this.

It's an extraordinary feeling

to be waiting here under this enormous bell,

just waiting for the moment when the clapper makes contact,

which is going to be any moment now.

BELL CLANGS

BELL CONTINUES TO VIBRATE

That's an enormous noise!

BELL CLANGS

That thought provides a fitting end to my trip to Estonia

before I head across the Baltic to pick up my rail journey in Finland.

SHIP'S HORN BLARES

'At the time of my guidebook,

'Finland was something of a mystery to British travellers.

'It was a challenge even to procure a map of the country in London.'

So long, Estonia.

I'll always associate you with the outpouring of patriotic song

and the deep resonance of the Good News Bell.

I'm heading out into the Baltic Sea,

for centuries strategically important

to both Germany and Russia -

something that historian Dr Ivo Juurvee knows all about.

-Hello, Ivo. I'm Michael.

-Nice to meet you.

-Good to see you.

So, here we have a map of the Baltic before the First World War.

And Sweden, Germany, the Russian Empire,

including Latvia, Estonia and Finland.

And it's clear to me that the Baltic is of huge strategic importance

-to Germany and, perhaps even more so, to Russia.

-Indeed.

It was the main gate to the sea for Russia,

or exit of the Russian Empire to the West.

The ports of St Petersburg, Tallinn and Riga had huge importance

in exports and also in imports.

Russia has relatively few ports in the West.

It has these and it has the Black Sea,

and that represents a sort of vulnerability, doesn't it?

Well, more or less. The ports in the far north

were not used much before the First World War.

These sensitive waters were the scene

of a patiently crafted diplomatic meeting in June 1908

between the Tsar of Russia, Nicholas II,

and his uncle by marriage, British King Edward VII.

The King was accompanied by Queen Alexandra.

As a precaution against assassination,

they met on board the King's royal yacht,

the Victoria and Albert, in the Bay of Tallinn.

Edward's mission was to strengthen ties between Britain and Russia

and thereby safeguard the delicate balance of power in Europe,

which was increasingly under threat from Germany.

Ever since the fall of communism,

being able to travel freely through the Baltic feels special,

but Russia's annexation of the Crimea

has stirred up bad memories for many

and made Finland and the Baltic countries wary

of their neighbour's intentions.

The entrance to Helsinki harbour,

through a narrow channel, past the ancient fortifications,

is extremely attractive, and as Bradshaw says,

"Numerous small islands contribute to its picturesque appearance."

The guidebook also tells me that it's a Russian grand duchy,

so even before the First World War,

it enjoyed a fair degree of autonomy from the Russian Tsar.

I shall be interested to see

how the national character expressed itself in Finland.

MUSIC: Karelia Suite by Sibelius

Helsinki, which dates back to the mid-16th century,

became the Finnish capital in 1812,

after Russia wrested Finland away from Swedish control.

MUSIC: Karelia Suite by Sibelius

I'm in the heart of Helsinki,

but here, at the lakeside, it has the feel of the country.

I'm surrounded by the lapping sea,

with a mass of harbours and hidden bays.

-Hello.

-Hi, you want to join?

-May I share your fire?

-Please do so.

You can show me how...how to do this.

-Yeah, I will. Blanket is a good start.

-Very good start.

You notice that our summers are a bit chilly every once in a while.

-Those look really good.

-Yeah.

-Is this a local custom?

Yeah, absolutely. People come...

This is kind of like a cafe, here on the coastline, so people come

and sit down, grill a bit of the sausages, see the sunset, you know.

I've just arrived, but it seems a special kind of city,

with a lake in the centre, and this feeling of being, I don't know,

out in the rural areas, when you're in the city.

Well, that's what they say. We are a sea-like city,

so there's this big bay area in the middle.

-It looks like a lake but it's actually the sea.

-Is it?

So, it's a nature reserve.

I think, in Helsinki, nature's always very close.

We have lots of cultural things, cultural venues,

but always the green areas and everything

are in our hearts, I would say.

My sausage has burst a bit there. Is that all right?

Yeah, that's the thing. Just don't put it too close to the fire.

It's the embers over there that give the heat,

but if you put it here, to the fire,

you're going to burn them and they're going to burst as well.

That's looking good.

Yeah, I think you just put some mustard on the top

and you're good to go.

You know, some people are very sensitive with a bit of mustard,

but I put it all over.

Mmm, tastes so good, doesn't it, from the charcoal fire?

Yeah, I think, when you're outdoors as well.

You get a different appetite when you are sitting outside.

-It's the place as well.

-Mmm.

And with your help, I cooked that really well.

Well done.

CHURCH BELLS TOLL

This beautiful morning finds me in what Bradshaw's describes

as, "A fine square, the Senate Square,

"with imposing public buildings on each side."

And they are the University, the Cathedral and the Senate.

This square is the very heart of Finnish nationalism.

The Finns, with their own institutions,

enjoyed a good deal of self-government,

by comparison with the Latvians and the Estonians,

and their independence was increased by this Russian Tsar, Alexander II.

When, in 1899, his grandson tightened

the Russian grip on Finland,

protesting Finns came here and laid flowers

at the feet of the man they called the "Good Tsar".

MUSIC: Symphony No 2 In D Major by Sibelius

And just as in Estonia,

music would help to propel the Finns towards independence.

'I'm meeting Vesa Ruotonen

'at the city's historic Kamp Hotel,

'a favourite haunt in the late 19th century of Jean Sibelius,

'surely Finland's greatest composer.'

-Skol.

-Skol.

So, is it suitable to be drinking champagne while discussing Sibelius?

Oh, yes! He was here, actually, always drinking the champagne.

You know, he could stay here for a couple of weeks.

Why is it that Sibelius is so important to Finns?

He did put the Finnish soul into the music

and he was also a person

that his music followed the national development of the country.

And here, the political and the national and the arts

were going the same way,

and Sibelius was the leading person with his Finlandia,

which is actually kind of the idea

of what it is to be free and what it is to be Finn.

MUSIC: Finlandia Op 26 by Sibelius

Sibelius was born in 1865

and, although his mother wanted him to study law, his passion was music.

He became an accomplished violinist

before devoting himself to composition.

He wrote seven symphonies and a violin concerto,

as well as Finlandia.

His music reflects the nature and also the nature of the Finns

and human nature displayed all over the world nowadays.

Sibelius also composed lyrical pieces, like this beautiful romance.

MUSIC PLAYS

But in 1899, he turned his hand to music

about the struggle of the Finns to rid themselves of Russian rule.

Very lovely. Hello, I'm Michael.

-Hello, I'm Emilia.

-Emilia.

-Hello.

-Very good to see you.

Vesa, Finlandia comes at a really key moment.

Yeah, when it came out, people immediately understood the message.

It's beautiful music but it's also a sign for the Finns

that we have to be united now, to get free.

HE PLAYS EXTRACT FROM FINLANDIA BY SIBELIUS

-That's the Russians.

-Right.

We've got a few bars and then comes the sad choral.

This is what the Finns are singing - "God, do something. Help us."

"Why you did not help? Now we Finns have to fight for the freedom."

After the victorious battle,

now we are finally free to sing the anthem Finlandia.

THEY PLAY EXTRACT FROM FINLANDIA by SIBELIUS

Resistance against the Russians gathered strength

until, as Russia was taken over by the Bolsheviks in 1917,

the Finnish parliament declared the nation's independence.

It was as if, with Finlandia,

Sibelius had supplied his country with a national hymn.

Even at the railway station,

I find a celebration of what it is to be Finnish.

Helsinki's magnificent railway station was designed

by a friend of Jean Sibelius, called Eliel Saarinen.

His original idea was a kind of romantic

19th-century-style building,

but in the political turmoil of the early 20th century,

when Finland was wrestling with its Russian oppressor,

he came up with a different design - something very 20th century,

something very modern, uniquely Finnish,

and so, in a way, this building is also highly political.

I'm back on track, heading north to the city of Tampere,

just over one-and-a-half hours away by train.

'These new high-speed Italian tilting trains

'are fast and comfortable, and I particularly love that the interior

'has been designed to blend with my jacket.'

-TANNOY:

-'Ladies and gentlemen,

'this is a Pendolino train via Tampere and Jyvaskyla to Kuopio.'

In the middle of the 19th century,

Finns had to decide where to build their first railway line.

Russophiles favoured one from Helsinki to St Petersburg,

while nationalists thought one should be built

to promote domestic economic activity.

In the end, the first one opened on this line in 1862,

between Helsinki and the Finnish town of Hameenlinna,

and the one to Russia had to wait another eight years.

-TANNOY:

-'The next stop, Tampere.'

Tampere is a city built on the power of water.

The rushing rapids of the Tammerkoski River

drive the city's imposing 19th-century mills.

It's retained many of its factories

and its paper mills still supply much of Finland's paper.

But surrounding what's become known as the Manchester of Finland

are 200 beautiful lakes...

..perfect to allow me to feel what it's like to be free and Finnish.

When the days get longer, the Finns take to their country houses

and to the lakeside, in order to commune with nature

and, although I'm a city boy, I thought I'd give it a go.

First, heat your hot tub with freshly chopped wood.

Then remove tarpaulin from hot tub.

Ha-ha!

Stir the water,

in order to mix the hot at the top with the cold at the bottom.

Now all is ready.

'It's 11 o'clock at night and sunset,

'and I begin to experience an iconic Finnish natural phenomenon -

'the white nights, when there is light throughout the 24 hours.

'With long, cold, dark winters,

'summer in Finland is about being outside.'

What better thing to do... Argh!

..than to get into a hot tub

and enjoy a cloudberry liqueur known as a lakka?

Why...

..would the people of this country, in the middle of the night,

get into hot water and drink alcohol?

Because this is the way that a day must finish.

I don't find it easy to sleep when it's daylight all night,

but breakfast with this beautiful view and the fresh air

and the stiff breeze coming off the lake, that really wakes me up.

-Hello, canoeists!

-Hello, Michael.

-Good morning.

-Good morning.

-Nice to see you, Michael.

-Oh, it's lovely to see YOU. Come alongside.

'I'm being met by canoe guides Liisa and Pekka Tyllila.'

Isn't it beautiful?

-It's nice weather today for canoeing.

-It looks perfect.

Seeing the world from the bow of a silent canoe is truly special.

This is an extraordinary moment for me

because I'm hearing something that I never hear,

which is silence...

..if you discount the sound of the birds

and the wind moving across the lake.

Completely different and special moment.

Absolutely exceptional in my existence.

Liisa, what's the name of this lake?

Vuokalanjarvi.

Vuokalanjarvi.

Fine! Perfect! You are almost a Finn.

THEY LAUGH

How long have Finns been canoeing, Liisa?

Well, it started, actually, in 1891,

when a minister of finances, August Ramsay, published his book.

With over 180,000 lakes in Finland to paddle,

August Ramsay's guide encouraged Finns to take to canoes for leisure.

So, I find the stories very interesting

and it tells how it was.

And did you see the first picture, where the canoeing men,

they're helped by women to carry the canoes?

THEY LAUGH

So, that was one way to get to know young women in the countryside.

But, actually, you Finns gave equality to women

very early on, didn't you?

Yes, Finland is the third country to give women the right to vote,

so the girls from countryside moved to towns

and started to get salary.

They became independent and that was the big step.

And they earned the right to carry the canoe as well.

LIISA LAUGHS

Well, not so many Finnish ladies do that.

-I like your book, it's beautifully illustrated.

-Yeah?

It's a sort of Finnish canoeing Bradshaw's.

A century ago, the Bradshaw's visitor

to the Baltic region of the Russian Empire

heard the cry for freedom,

in Riga, demonstrators had recently been massacred,

in Estonia, choirs sang about liberty,

whilst, in Finland,

the music of Jean Sibelius longed for independence.

The 20th century brought the region moments of joy

and periods of catastrophe until, in the 1980s,

a singing revolution helped to restore self-government.

These peoples eventually triumphed,

not through force of arms or numbers,

but because of the strength of their national cultures.

'Next time...'

This is absolutely terrifying.

'..I'll need some Dutch courage.'

THUD

Ha-ha!

I didn't expect that. We got a hole in one.

'And I'll root around the world's largest flower auction...'

Tell me there are some rules here, right?

There are some rules of the road, are there?

Well, they SAY they have traffic rules.

'..before tilting at windmills.'

30,000 kilos and I haven't even broken a sweat.