The Island in the Heart

“My father absolutely loved it there. He was a language man and had eagerly started learning Finnish right away and spoke it quite well. But then in the 1990s, when we were able to go back after a long break, there were all kinds of people who – it was funny! – remembered and told us stories about our family. And my dad had definitely made an impression – that he had strange habits and had apparently raised me very strictly, which I don’t remember at all! And all sorts of things. I guess we were a little different. But we never had any trouble being there – it was really lovely and everyone was friendly. But maybe they laughed at us a little behind our backs.”
Alice Martin, Tammio

Summer renters were usually city dwellers. They included families and individuals, short-term or long-stay vacationers – sometimes even foreigners. Some visited a new destination every year, others returned to the same place for decades. Even in the 1950s, visitors – whether relatives or not – could often be identified by collared shirts, pressed trousers, jackets, or summer dresses. When year-round habitation ended, fashion became more unified and casual. For a long time now, summer cottage wear has included old worn-out clothes or modern outdoor gear.

In addition to year-round residents and their descendants, the islands have left a lasting mark on many others as well. Many boaters and hikers from the Kymenlaakso region know Tammio and Kuorsalo and visit them every year.

Summer rentals began as early as the rise of steamship traffic in the late 1800s. Some renters, once they found the islands, kept coming back year after year. A lucky few have been able to purchase a summer home on the island, but for most, that hasn’t been possible. Sometimes, ties to the island – whether as a renter or through family – have ended abruptly for various reasons. Love for the place often begins in childhood or adolescence. And if one has had to let go of the island, the longing may never truly fade.

You don’t need to be born an islander to fall in love with the island. If you don’t come from an old island family, the experience of belonging can be complex. On one hand, affection for the place and a sense of community can be strong. On the other, a careless remark pointing out that your family “isn’t originally from here” can feel excluding. If a long time has passed since your last visit, reconnecting with the current island community may feel difficult. Amid strong, long-established family networks, one’s sense of place-bound identity may falter. Yet the connection to nature, formed in youth, often grows from a weave of memories and key experiences. The bond to the place is personal – not something others can define.