[Read the first episode of this trip here.]
After a windy but warm night on the island, I woke up well-rested. Sleeping in a hammock is, to me, the most connected-to-nature way to camp. If you haven’t tried it, I warmly recommend. I have one advice for sleeping in a hammock: never even try to lie straight. The middle part will feel tighter than the edges and drive you crazy. Just accept that you have to lie diagonally, and you’ll be just fine.
The morning was a bit chilly. I had my wool sweater and leggings on as I made coffee. The lake’s surface rippled and I felt that this day was going to be good. Just me in this little world. No boats passed by, no sounds of other humans. Just wilderness and me.
This island, where I spent my night, is not quite ordinary. First of all, it’s very high. The island's peak reaches about 130 meters above sea level, which means it rises 52 meters above Lake Päijänne. Its area is 21 hectares. Near it, there’s a deep spot in the lake that is almost 80 meters deep.
After breakfast I couldn’t wait anymore. I wanted to go for a walk. The island was mine alone, quiet except for the gentle rustle of leaves. I stepped onto the narrow path leading into the trees.
This island has conifer-dominated forests, mainly pines, spruces and junipers. Undergrowth is lichens and heathers — which were in bloom — with berry shrubs.
No birds. It felt like I was the only animal in there. I didn’t even meet any spiders. Maybe the island was still asleep, tucked tightly under its rocky cover. Time dragged on slowly. Actually, I didn’t know what time was. I was an outsider to the busy human world. Isolated in the summer’s last minutes, refusing to get back to the boring everyday life.
Watching down at the lake through the woods is somehow so fascinating. The height of the island gave me a new perspective. From up here, the lake seemed to stretch endlessly, framed by the dark green of the conifers. The solitude was not empty; it was full of life, hidden in the textures of the bark, the silvery lichens, and the delicate bloom of heather.
And right when I was on that path, the sun broke through and the island fully awakened to a new day.
Twigs of lingonberries and blueberries started to shine alongside heathers, their tiny flowers catching the morning light. For a moment, I just stood there, letting the solitude fill me, feeling completely present.
I started to notice details like neon green lichen on the fallen tree’s bark. Or the lovely bracket fungus. Every step revealed something new. I fell in love with a big mossy stone. It was so inviting, like it had been waiting for me to sit down and just be. And so I did.
And when I got back to my camp on the cliff, there were totally different vibes with the blue sky and the sun shining. I ate a slow lunch and made another cup of coffee. I took down the hammock and set up the sleeping bag. I returned along the trail down to my paddleboard.
That path is one of my favorites. It’s so undulating and enchanted. There are fallen tree trunks in perfect spots, like deliberately arranged — they don’t block the path, just adds character and guides you gently along the way. Lake sparkles below and every step takes you closer.
The journey was hot, so right when I got down I went for a swim. The bottom was full of round, slippery stones, which made it hard to wade. Every step was cautious, my feet sliding over the smooth stones. The water was cool but so refreshing. The bottom dropped quickly, and my feet no longer touched it. I felt completely free and almost weightless. Every breath felt crisp and alive, and for a moment, it was as if I were floating in a world entirely my own.
After I had tied all my gear to the paddleboard, I said my goodbyes to the island and paddled away. Another island was just begging for me to take over.
I wonder what this island’s views might look like in winter, when I can walk to it across the ice! Maybe I’ll be able to show them to you then, in its winter outfit! Who knows, maybe I’ll even build a tiny snowman on top of it. Follow along!
Love your posts, Anna! But I beg to differ ☝️
Having a hammock with at least 11 ft length and hanging it on the right angle (preferably 30ish degree) indeed *will* give you a straight and comfortable lay.
Yours actually looks long enough for a perfect hang.
What an exciting adventure! I've never slept in a hammock, but I do have a friend, Ursula, who does. At the moment she is in Scotland, walking her way up to Inverness from Wales. Honestly, the lake there looks so refreshing, I'd be in in a heartbeat!