Travel: Finland's archipelago

YOU are poised to win a hotly-fought game of Trivial Pursuit. Only one question now stands between you and victory: which country has the largest archipelago in Europe, and by some measures the largest in the world?

If you know the answer – which is, of course, Finland – well done. If not, you will no doubt be in good company. This is a part of the world that is so remote and sparsely populated, only the Finns and Swedes seem to know about it. Finland lays claim to the great bulk of the 30,000 or so Scandinavian Islands scattered between its south-western tip and its neighbour Sweden.

I spent almost a week island-hopping through a handful of them. Along the way I experienced the region's isolated splendour, some delicious food and the delights and tortures of a traditional smoked sauna. You can sail, fish, cycle and kayak, but ultimately it is a place to get away from it all.

After flying into Helsinki, I caught a 30-minute internal flight to the port city of Turku, the gateway to the archipelago, before driving on to the towns of Pargas then Nagu, where I stayed overnight in the Hotel Strandbo, a charming wooden property perched opposite the marina. Keen to stretch my legs (or rather, arms), I enjoyed a morning's kayaking on the water.

The islands are easy to explore, with the archipelago trail that swings round in a loop taking about six days to complete and the ferries and bridges connecting them usually being free to use.

The amazing thing is you seldom see an uninterrupted expanse of sea because of the number of islands, ranging from flecks of small protruding rocks, to uninhabited wooded outcrops to the Aland Islands, an autonomous part of Finland.

The geography is a cross between the rugged drama of the west coast of Scotland and the genteel aquatic calmness of the Norfolk Broads, but with a more powerful sense of remoteness. There are islands here where you could live a life of almost complete seclusion

I enjoyed a delicious lunch at Martha's Inn, a cosy B&B and caf located in the village of Nauvo. Richly-flavoured smoked salmon, caviar and freshly-baked blinis, and fragrantly pickled Baltic herring were washed down with glassfuls of dark brown home-brewed beer. This was also my first encounter with the local bread, a nutty, slightly treacly-tasting dark-brown product that reminded me slightly of Christmas Pudding and to which I became quite addicted.

After taking in Nagu and Korpo islands, I caught a three-hour ferry to the Aland Islands, a culturally distinct, Swedish-speaking region of Finland.

It is Russia which lies behind the special status of these 6,500 islands. In the early 1700s, Russia conquered much of Finland and the Alanders fled to the Swedish mainland.

The Russians occupied the islands again in 1809 and after the Russian Revolution of 1917, the year of Finnish independence, they feared another invasion and lobbied to become part of Sweden. Finally, in 1921, Aland was granted autonomous status within Finland.

Today, the islands have a resident population of about 28,000 that doubles in the summer when nature-loving crowds descend, most of them retreating to the joys of waterside log cabins.

I caught a small boat from my hotel at Kkar to the island of Kllskr, once home to a Swedish count who lived in idyllic, self-imposed exile until his death a couple of decades ago. He was kept company only by an eccentric Scottish gardener, known as the Scottish Witch, plus his friend Tove Jansson, the creator of Finland's most well-known children's book characters, the Moomins. It's a beautiful little island to have a stroll around.

The islands that form the Aland archipelago boast some interesting flora and fauna, including the mighty sea eagle — which in the 1960s was on the brink of extinction — elk and the arctic hare. The thriving birdlife make the most of the wild currants and berries, including cloudberries, lingonberries, orange berries, and juniper shrubs.

Accommodation options are greater on the larger islands and if you fancy your own retreat, there are cabins available for rent. You may be lucky enough to be able to sleep on a boat if you are sailing around.

Unsurprisingly, seafood takes top billing in the cuisine stakes and that night at the hotel, I had cream of crayfish soup, the best soup I have ever tasted. Crayfish is a particular delicacy, and aside from being made into soup, it is the basis of a meal where friends and family gather round, sing, drink copious amounts of schnapps and enjoy cracking open the extremely tasty crustaceans that they eat with dill, lemon, and buttered toast. Meals traditionally start schnapps, such as the caraway flavoured Aquavit. This lead to me mastering my only Finnish word — "kippis", for cheers.

Next day I caught another ferry to the main Aland island and stayed in the very Scandanavian-swish Havsvidden hotel, which has a traditional Finnish smoke-fired sauna that left me knowing how a smoked kipper must feel.

The first dilemma was what to wear, or rather what not to wear. This was a unisex sauna and with the intention of flinging myself into the ice-cold sea to cool off, I opted for the practicality of swimming shorts. I was with an international group of journalists and their approach to the situation offered great insight. The German man went for the naked option (obviously) and berated me for not doing likewise. The Italian men wore disconcertingly skimpy y-fronts. The women, from Finland, Sweden, Russia, and the Ukraine, wore bikinis. The older American woman stayed away.

The air in the sauna is not actually smoky, although the wood was darkened by dustings of soot. The smell was rather pleasant too — like a small barbecue in a forest on a summer's day. The Finns like it hot — very hot, and frown on the Swedes' temperate, electrically-heated saunas. With a smoke-fired sauna, a fire burns for several hours to allow heat to build, then the door is opened an hour before use to allow the smoke to escape.

I emerged looking like a Victorian chimney sweep and after a traditional pick-me-up of refreshing local beer, then a glass of cool white wine, walked to the jetty and threw myself into the Baltic, which was as cold as the metaphor suggests. I managed about 30 seconds, then went back to the sauna and repeated the process twice more. It was quite addictive.

Finally, before leaving Aland, I went on a mini-tour which took in the Bomarsund Fortress, part of a key battle in the Crimean War, in which the combined French and British forces bombarded the Russians into defeat. They day after I returned home, it featured as a question on University Challenge. I got that one right. I am now waiting for the archipelago question to come up.

This article was first published in Scotland On Sunday, 19 September, 2010