Touko’s letter to Kaija, 19 June 1962

19 June One more sheet of writing so that you won’t get the impression that I’m annoyed. No, I’m tanned.

The sun here in the south has a different hue to the midnight sun in the north. It’s the most scorching afternoon heat; it’s actually too hot today, I think. The Finnish boys and girls left yesterday morning, and it was wonderfully peaceful all day. The new ones arrived late at night, and they are still a bit shy. I heard one of them say: “Listen, isn’t he from Helsinki, he looks familiar?” They stare at me but I pretend not to notice. I don’t think I’m obliged to mingle with them. Holiday equals freedom. I saw one of them, this big-bellied man in the morning. As soon as he got to the beach, he ran towards the water’s edge in his linen shorts. There were fishermen untangling their lines, and this man managed to get tangled and trapped in the lines in no time. It took a long time for him to get out of it, and all the patient work carried out by the fishermen ended up in one big messy tangle. Sorry, sorry, the man gasped and slapped one of the fishermen on the shoulder. He then dashed into the water again and snorted like Pentti’s dog. 

The Finns have forced the hostess to say good morning in Finnish, and she said it to me this morning, too. I just replied ‘Bom dia’, and we both smiled. I get really good service at the restaurant now. I always sit on the other side of the restaurant, away from the package holiday makers, who clap their hands every so often while they’re eating! I don’t see why. Maybe they give speeches when the roast arrives. And yet it’s so wonderful here. The fishermen are going out to the sea. It is an impressive sight, the same as when they return in the evening with the catch. The fish is incredibly tasty. Best, Touko 

I expect that at least a few of the 70 colour photos will come out alright.