Renowned travel writer Colleen Gantzer, a name synonymous with wanderlust and literary excellence, passed away recently in Mussoorie at the age of 90. Along with her husband, Hugh Gantzer, she formed a dynamic duo, captivating readers and viewers with their travelogues, documentaries, and newspaper articles.

　　As a valued contributor to Outlook Traveller, Colleen Gantzer's words have graced the pages of the magazine for years. In honour of her legacy, we present one of her timeless stories.

　　So, you don’t believe in Santa Claus. We do—and we’re not children. We believe in him because we’ve shaken his hand and heard him say, “Namaste. I have been to India.”

　　This is how that wonderful meeting happened.

　　Finland had invited us to tour their beautiful country. It is one of the Scandinavian nations that hug the Arctic Circle—Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Iceland, and Finland. Despite Finland’s chilly climate—or perhaps because of it—its roads are superb. We drove down a beautiful, arrow-straight expressway, with dark, towering conifer forests massed on either side.

　　Antlered herds of reindeer wandered like heraldic wraiths, occasionally scraping frost and snow from the forest floor to uncover their much-sought-after lichen—a symbiotic life form made up of two different species of plant life that can no longer survive without each other. These vast forests, along with berry-rich wetlands, marshes, and crystal-blue ice-melt lakes, are collectively known as the taiga. Beyond that, closer to the Arctic Circle, stretch the great, glaring, white snowfields of the tundra.

　　We veered off the road and into a village that seemed plucked straight from a Hans Christian Andersen tale—quaint wooden houses, warmly lit and inviting, clustered around a grand log mansion with a turret. This was the Village of Santa Claus, and the mansion belonged to the Great Man himself.

　　We crunched across a line in the snow and we were in the Arctic Circle.

　　“This is Santa’s Clock,” said a red-capped pixie, leading us up a flight of wooden stairs inside the castle.

　　“Why does he have a clock?”

　　“To stop time so that he can give every child a gift on Christmas,” the red-capped pixie explained with a grin. Then he added, “Santa wants to meet you. Come.”

　　Suddenly, legend became reality—the fine line between disbelief and belief blurred and merged into one. That six-foot-plus, white-bearded man with the friendly voice was the reality we wanted to believe in, even though the setting felt almost too picture-perfect, like a scene from a Christmas card.

　　We bought a video of our conversation with him and shopped for Christmas gifts in stores that celebrate the holiday 24/7. Then, we sent letters back to our family in India, each carrying the special Santa’s Village stamp and postmark. Every letter written to Santa is answered personally by the Great Gift Giver himself.

　　Santa and his lore are carefully woven into the folkways of Finland. Dancer, Donner, Blitzen, and even the red-nosed Rudolph have their real-life counterparts among the vast herds of semi-wild reindeer roaming freely across the Finnish wilderness. Each animal, however, is part of a family, and during the annual herding, reindeer are ear-notched to confirm ownership. The Sámi deer herders, in an impressive feat, seem to know precisely which animal belongs to whom—even those born in the wilderness. No one could fully explain how they accomplish this or how the Sámi find their way home in the vast wilderness.

　　Curious, we asked a young Sámi woman about it. Smiling, she explained that every wife knits woollen caps for her husband, saying, “The horns on such headgear guide the men home.” The Sámi also believe in spirit doctors, and though we underwent what seemed to be an "initiation ceremony," we didn't feel noticeably different.

　　We also ventured into the taiga with a man officially designated as a gold prospector. After hours of panning, shaking, rolling, and washing, we managed to collect just enough gold to be blown away by a tiny kitten's sneeze. But at least we now know how to pan for gold—yes, indeed, we do.

　　Then there is the ultimate Finnish experience—the sauna. After steaming, they whip themselves with green branches before plunging into an ice-cold outdoor stream.

　　Finally, when you've proven to yourself that you're as close to the finish line as possible, lie back in an observatory and watch the unfolding curtains of towering light, signaling that the Earth's magnetic shield is as brilliantly alive as it can be. This is the aurora borealis. It is, in every way, as unusual, beautiful, and natural as the people of Finland and Santa Claus.

　　Merry Christmas!