An Autumn Outing by the Baltic Sea: Our Trip and Tips for You!
The shores of the Baltic Sea are, in my opinion, among the loveliest places in Finland to visit in autumn—and even in winter. Winter is a long, dark season here in the north, and when everyday life keeps spinning, the mind now and then starts to crave a brisk refresh. Any nearby forest happily works its quiet magic on a weekday evening, but on weekends there’s time to roam a little farther. My choice then is the seashore.
We were out as adults only: just me and a good friend. Our daily routines dropped away the moment the car doors thudded shut on a little forest road; we tightened our pack straps and stepped onto the path. It was the kind of day when you want to breathe a bit deeper and let the waves steady your thoughts.
By the sea, the fresh wind and fragrant forest did exactly that. A crisp, salty breath brushed our faces, and the scent of wet moss and spruce from the archipelago woods filled our lungs. I could feel my flagging mood straighten within the very first steps.
In autumn, many Finnish hiking areas quiet down, and especially on weekdays you may even find the trails of popular national parks entirely empty of people. Today, too, we walked in complete peace. The rhythm of our steps and the even surge of the waves laid down a familiar, home-like soundtrack on which the mind could relax and conversation could flow.
On the sandy beach our inner children woke up and began to play, just like thirty years ago when we truly were kids. We examined the ridge of bladderwrack thrown up by the sea and sifted through it for treasures: crab and mussel shells, small moon jellyfish, and even a few tiny, silvery fish the sea had cast ashore. We picked out the finest finds—like an unusually handsome, glossy frond of bladderwrack—arranged it and other discoveries on a lichen-covered shore rock, and took photos.
We had packed nuts, drinks, and snack bars. So we didn’t need an official fire site—and there wasn’t one here anyway. Instead, we chose a rounded rock dome with a lovely open view of the sea and a touch of shelter from the wind. We sat down, let the breeze freshen our already sweaty selves, and enjoyed an unhurried break, chatting and also savoring the relaxed silence—a skill in which we Finns often positively excel.
We watched ships glide past and birds, and especially the white-tailed eagles and a flock of long-tailed tits that suddenly flitted by with cheerful chirps made us exclaim with delight. Long-tailed tits are by no means an everyday sight for us. White-tailed eagles we see more often, and for me they bring a quiet relief: here is a species that, not so long ago, was on the brink of extinction because of human-made poisons, yet was saved—and today it’s a fairly common sight, soaring across our skies on broad wings.
As we reach a windless cove strewn with small stones, my friend spots a piece of litter on the ground. It’s a plastic grocery-store food container—perhaps it once held a salad. She pulls a plastic bag from her backpack and drops the trash into it. After a moment of scanning the shore, we notice more: additional bits of plastic, short lengths of rope, strips of cling film. We pick up the rubbish one by one and fill the bag, which my friend then stuffs back into her pack to carry everything out of the wild.
Here’s a useful tip for all of us when we head into nature: an empty plastic bag weighs nothing in your pack, but it can make a big difference if you collect litter along the way. Picking up trash is hands-on conservation work, and it can even ease any eco-anxiety—if you’re one of us who feels it.
Out in nature it’s easy to talk about life—even the deeper, perhaps more painful topics we tend to step over in daily routines. With the sea keeping time in the quiet and the forest standing guard at our backs, words found their places naturally. Nature by itself heals and restores, but when you can lighten your heart at the same time, the effect is stronger still. After an outing like this, you come home feeling a little like a new person.
We ended up spending many hours out there and, thankfully, never had to glance at the time. That made room for presence: step, breath, light, wind—everything we needed. No heart-rate or step counters, no constant availability, no noise. Only the calm of the marine landscape and our own deliberate presence.
Some tips for you!
Winters in southern Finland are now fairly mild, and you can often get along quite well by the sea with grippy footwear and warm, preferably weatherproof clothing. The further we go from autumn into winter, the more essential a genuinely warm hat and scarf, plus gloves, become. The wind feels sharper by the shore than inland, so layering is your best friend. If you truly want to feel comfortable by the Baltic in late autumn—or winter—wear thermal long johns under your trousers and don’t skimp on warmth in the rest of your clothing either.
If you use studded insoles or studded shoes, do not walk on bedrock. The studs scratch irreversible, ugly gouges into the skin of the ancient rock. Keep studs to paths and roads—the rock deserves its timeless, untouched pattern. Building a campfire on smooth rock is among a hiker’s gravest sins—not only because making a fire anywhere other than a designated site is illegal, but because a fire weathers the rock surface and leaves a coarse, ugly scar.
In winter the shore is prone to slippery ice, so it’s best to make route choices with safety first. By sticking to forest paths and skirting smooth rock slabs you’ll usually do just fine—so long as you place your steps thoughtfully and keep an ear out for the weather.
Fine southern Finnish coastal destinations for autumn and winter include, for example, Porkkalanniemi in Kirkkonummi, Varlaxudden in Porvoo, the Uutela recreational area in Helsinki, and Kopparnäs in Inkoo (see links below). All of these offer rest spots and good trails, which makes for a pleasant outing even for people or groups without much wilderness experience. Warm clothes, good snacks, proper hiking shoes, and a marked route are the keys to a lovely, carefree trip.
The photos in this article are from Kemiönsaari, on a peninsula that’s a little harder to reach. There are no services here—no lean-to shelters or toilets—so a self-guided hiker needs to refrain from making fires and be prepared to take care of their own needs.
Whatever the destination, pack out all your trash. We, too, left behind only the rock’s pristine surface, warmed for a fleeting moment beneath our backsides. And we carried away two calmed hearts—the sea and the coastal forest swept away our haste and left us with a renewed sense of hope and a delicious, drowsy ease in our bodies.
Read next
Caring for Mental Health in Nature: A Trip to the Baltic Sea’s Coastal Cliffs in Inkoo
Embraced by the March Baltic Sea: Early Spring Beauty at Porkkalanniemi in Kirkkonummi
The peaceful coast of Emäsalo: Varlaxudden, Porvoo
Uutela outdoor recreation area (Hel.fi)
Related Content
Leave a Reply
Want to join the discussion?Feel free to contribute!