Snow wonder

The prospect of a trip to Rovaniemi, better known as the home of Santa, had your arctic circle correspondent just as excited …

The prospect of a trip to Rovaniemi, better known as the home of Santa, had your arctic circle correspondent just as excited as the (very, very good) little boy who came along for the sleigh ride.

"This is the best day of my life," nephew Fionn had gasped when told he was off to Santa's pad in Finnish Lapland for the day. He's only six years old but that still makes it the best day out of his more than 2000 on earth. Not bad, when your rivals include pokemon and power-rangers.

We were on a plane with the winners of an annual competition held by supermarket Centra; There was a family from every county on the trip and they jingled all the way.

Nine year old Kerri-Ann, from Omagh, sat beside us because there wasn't space near her Dad. It was Kerri-Ann's first time on a plane so she was a bit quiet at first. When she spoke it was to reveal giggly nuggets like "my grandma bought woolly trousers for my grandad because it's going to be cold and now he is wearing them under his trousers". These Santa cruises are the kind of trip where the air hostesses wear reindeers and snow flakes on their heads while serving the food. Everyone cheers when the plane takes off and when it lands. Even the pilot was wearing one of those Scottish hats with bright red hair attached; "You're wearing a wig," Fionn told him reprovingly as he inspected the flight deck.

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At Rovaniemi Airport, ("The official Airport of Santa Claus") we were allocated coaches where Christmas carols blared non-stop from the speaker system. We were on our way to a massive hangar to be decked out in thermal snow suits for use on our Arctic safari. Unless one is Tara Palmer Tomkinson, by the way, glamorous they are not.

Before that there had been almost two hours of waiting around caused by the delay of an earlier plane. With coaches packed full of children, riots looked likely. That was banking without the snow which covered everything like a top quality duvet. In fact the magic of Lapland begins and ends with the snow, shimmering as though laced with a million tiny ice diamonds, appearing almost supernatural when viewed through the half light of a dusky arctic afternoon. By the time we had stamped in it, slid in it and thrown it (thanks Fionn) we were back on the coaches and on our way.

First stop was the reindeer farm, where men in Finnish costumes stood by the real-live reindeer with real-live antlers, as though theirs was the most normal occupation in the world. We had barely hopped on a sleigh before Finnish Man shoved the reins in my hand and disappeared.

Before we could say "Rudolf!" we were speeding down a twisting forest track terrified that our four legged driver was going to choose this moment to get airborne. Hooves stayed on snow, however and we had another go straight afterwards.

Because of the delay there was only an hour to spend in Reindeer Farm which meant we didn't have time to do tandem skiing, snow shoe wearing or sledging. We did have time for the snow mobiles and when we were tucked up comfortably with a real fur blanket, just like in the movies, our driver sped us across the icy landscape, stopping only to gaze at the orangey glow of the Northern Lights. There was just time to visit the Burger and Chips Buffet before Fionn picked up his Reindeer Driving Licence. "Cool," said Fionn providing a thumb print for the card. Minus twelve, and dropping, actually.

SANTAPARK, where we were next deposited, is rather like a mini-Funderland with snow. Set inside a gigantic cavern scooped out of Syvasenvaara hill, the theme park doubles handily as a nuclear fall out shelter which can accommodate up to 3000 people.

The park boasts a handful of rides, a cute puppet theatre, a cafe and the inevitable souvenir shop. It was in Santa Park that Fionn banged his head getting energetic in the Mountain Crystal Fun House while I left the bag containing our passports on the Magic Sleigh Ride. One liquorice ice pop later, Fionn's spirits were restored, the bag reclaimed and we both felt ready to have a chat with the man himself.

On, then, to Santa Claus Village, where the man the Finns call the Jolly One oversees the post office which receives an average of 700,000 letters from children each year. Some of these are displayed in the office along with thousands of soothers that Mothers all over the world have prised away from toddlers with the promise that Santa's babies need the pacifying pieces of plastic even more than they do.

Before the trip Fionn had been cultivating a healthy sceptisism in Santa, the ones he had encountered before were obviously suspect because they didn't have real beards. "I hope this is the real Santa, I've never seen the real one just people dressed up as him," he said.

Unfortunately, Santa was not in his office when we called so instead we visited one of several shops selling souvenirs of varying quality and taste including reindeer keyrings, rugs, mugs, dolls and tee-shirts. Fionn spent the few minutes before we got back on the coaches on an ice slide which proved the biggest hit of the day.

There was an unexpected treat at the airport in the shape of Santa Claus who was ho, ho, hoing quite authentically in the vicinity of the departure lounge. Fionn popped his carefully prepared question designed to test the credibility of the bearded one; "How come you go down the chimney?" he asked. The multi-lingual Santa didn't even blink; "Because I know how to". "That's the real one," Fionn said with a smile.

As everyone who has ever looked after a child knows, you always pray when it is over that the person being minded has only remembered the good bits and forgotten, well, the less good bits.

This hope was shattered when the Lapland post mortem with Fionn's mum, my sister Sarah, began not with Santa, or the reindeer, or the snowmobile or the magic Sleigh Ride but with the following; "Fionn had a great time - He said you left your bag somewhere, and he banged his head".

But even that embarrassment couldn't banish the memory of Fionn staring out of the coach window at Christmas trees decorated by nature with mounds of glistening snow; "Am I dreaming this or is it really happening?" he had asked in a quiet voice. Lapland is that kind of place.

A last minute Santa package is available from The Travel Department 01 2602431 in donnybrook with a flight tomorrow costing £289 per person.