Secrets of the happiest country on Earth

What is happiness? It’s a question that has vexed humankind for millennia. Marketers would have us believe it’s the latest phone, watch or handbag. Self-help books prescribe everything from stoicism to nihilism.

One country that appears to have figured it out is Finland, which has topped the World Happiness Report rankings for the past eight years. On paper, it’s an unlikely frontrunner. High taxes, brutal winters and a 1300-kilometre border with one of the world’s most volatile regimes don’t sound like a recipe for wellbeing.

But clearly, they’re doing something right. So what is it? And can it be recreated? On a 10-day trip from Helsinki to Oulu organised by Nordic specialist 50 Degrees North, I hope to find out.

Sweating, but not the small stuff

“It’s the simple things,” says Riku Nurminen, founder of Helsinki Bike Tours, when I ask him why Finns are so happy. “Like access to the clean nature.”

We’re enjoying coffee and cake on the deck of his cottage, a simple wooden dwelling in a forested peninsula seven kilometres from downtown Helsinki. It took us only 20 minutes to cycle here, yet it feels a lifetime away from the hustle of the city.

Almost every Finn I meet cites spending time in nature as a key component of wellbeing. Of course, it helps that they live in a sparsely populated country with more than 75,000 islands and 180,000 lakes.

But it’s an activity that is clearly prioritised and scheduled. Most people have access to a holiday cottage, and Finland’s “Everyman’s Rights” means you can hike, camp, fish and forage just about anywhere, providing you do it responsibly.

Even the capital, Helsinki, which is by far the country’s largest and busiest metropolis, is peppered with parks and leafy boulevards. An attractive city notable for its impressive array of about 600 colourful art nouveau buildings (the second highest after Riga, capital of Latvia), it’s safe, walkable and has excellent public transport.

I’m staying in a suite in Hotel Kamp, which claims to be the city’s most luxurious property. Frequented by everyone from Elton John to the King of Norway, it’s an elegant medley of grand, colonnaded atriums, chandelier ballrooms and opulent marble bathrooms. They say money can’t buy happiness, but it can certainly get you a lovely hotel room.

Interestingly, for most Finns, happiness isn’t tied to wealth. “People aren’t hellbent on becoming millionaires,” says Ed Morrow, an Irish tour guide who moved to the city seven years ago. “And even when you meet a millionaire, you probably wouldn’t know it.”

There’s also a focus on life-long learning, with free education and fabulous facilities like Helsinki’s Oodi library, a striking three-storey building that contains everything from sewing machines and 3D printers to recording studios and gaming rooms.

When I visit on a Friday evening, there are youngsters listening to music, families playing board games and couples drinking wine on the terrace. With civic amenities this good, no wonder Finns are happy to pay a top tax rate of about 57 per cent.

When I ask Nurminen if mindfulness has become more mainstream, as it has in many other Western countries, he shakes his head. “Not really,” he says. “For us, sauna is our meditation.”

The Finnish obsession with sauna is so ingrained in the national psyche that in 2020, UNESCO added it to its Intangible Cultural Heritage list. Perspiring heavily in a hot wooden box has never really appealed to me, but clearly this is something I need to revisit.

In Helsinki, I start my sauna adventure at Loyly, a contemporary pine-framed building with two saunas, a restaurant and a sweeping terrace overlooking the sea. It’s a gentle introduction – the sauna temperatures are bearable, there’s a bar selling cold beer, and no one is naked.

My second instalment is at Sompasauna, a free outdoor community sauna on Mustikkamaa, a forested island east of the city, which I visit with Magnus Appelberg, a cold exposure coach who celebrated his 60th birthday by spending an hour in an ice bath. “You’ve been to the luxury one,” he says, smiling, “now we go to the other end of the scale.”

It’s a rustic, bohemian set-up: two standalone saunas in a clearing near the sea that’s decorated with playful sculptures and fairy lights. While Appelberg and I both keep our swimmers on, numerous men, and some women, don’t.

After a warm-up stint in the larger sauna, we take a refreshing dip in the sea to cool off and then attempt the smaller one, which has been fired up to a raging inferno by its sole occupant, an intense-looking character who’s an alarming crimson colour.

After 10 seconds, my eyebrows feel like they’re starting to singe and I have to leave. “Sometimes, it can get a little macho,” says Appelberg. “No one wants to be the first to buckle.”

While the health benefits of hot and cold contrast therapy are well-documented, has the experience made me happier? Unexpectedly, it has. Walking back to the car park, I feel intensely present and vigorously alive. Contrary to the well-known self-help adage, perhaps there is some benefit to sweating the small stuff.

A nation built on trust

My first stop after Helsinki is the popular day-trip destination of Porvoo, located 52 kilometres along the coast. A delightful huddle of 18th century pastel timber buildings, it’s renowned for its cobblestoned old town and much-photographed ochre-red riverside warehouses.

My base is the stylish Runo Hotel Porvoo, a welcoming haven of earthy throws and contemporary art that’s worth visiting for its breakfast alone: a lavish spread featuring slow-cooked porridge, cured salmon, seasonal berries and piquant shots of sea buckthorn with ginger.

Keen to practise my new Finnish approach to happiness, I borrow a bike from the hotel and follow a cycle trail along the island-dotted coast, weaving through forests of birch and past sunflower-yellow summer houses.

Stopping at a small marina, I savour an ice-cream in quiet contentment, happy to do nothing more than listen to the masts clanking in the breeze and watch dragonflies skip across the water.

That night, I visit the hotel’s intimate attic sauna and get talking to three businessmen visiting from the city of Turku. Contrary to the stereotype of Finns being introverted and aloof, they’re chatty and curious. “Life is good here,” says one, when I ask about happiness. “Everything works and people trust each other.”

Trust comes up repeatedly during our conversation. They explain that most Finns have some close friends rather than many acquaintances. Plus, there’s confidence in the public systems and the authorities that run them. It’s like, sure, we pay high taxes, but look at what we get in return: free education, free healthcare and a welfare state that’s got our back.

From Porvoo, I head north into the Lakeland region, a maze of islands, lakes and canals that is Europe’s largest lake district. The drive there is glorious, a scenic blast along quiet, winding roads flanked by pristine forest and shimmering inlets.

I spend two nights at Sahanlahti Resort, a former sawmill on the shores of Finland’s largest lake, Lake Saimaa, that’s been converted into a sprawling property with three restaurants, five saunas and a range of accommodation, from campsites and traditional wooden cottages to 10 modern luxury villas on a secluded peninsula.

As soon as I enter my villa, a sleek oasis of black cabinetry and exposed pine walls overlooking the lake, I feel my mind and body lighten. Days start with a refreshing dip in its tannin-stained waters followed by a hearty breakfast on the restaurant’s outdoor terrace.

Then I head out on a hike, following deserted trails through boulder-strewn forests and past pristine lakeside beaches. Not once do I see a single piece of litter or find a sign sullied by graffiti. One day after lunch, I lie down on a rocky outcrop overlooking a tranquil inlet and do something I’ve never done before – have a mid-hike nap.

After dinner each night, I retire to my villa’s private sauna (I’m gradually becoming a convert) and then slip into the outdoor hot tub and watch the moon rise over the lake. There’s an intense stillness here that I’ve never experienced in nature before. Aside from the occasional honk from a distant goose, the silence is hypnotic and all-consuming.

I wonder if this natural quietude is why Finns are so comfortable with silence. “We respect it,” says one of my guides in Helsinki. “It’s part of the conversation. If you don’t mean it, don’t say it.”

On my last night at the resort, I’m served dinner by Valentina, a vivacious thirty-something from Milan who’s been working here over the summer.

“I love it,” she says. “The nature, the people – everything is different. In the towns, there are toys in the playground for everyone to use.” She shakes her head. “This would not work in Italy.”

And the reason people are so happy? “Because they’re content with what they have,” she says, “whereas I want things I don’t need.” She pauses. “I try to learn from them.”

From Sahanlahti, it’s another scenic meander on deserted, forest-flanked backroads to Kuopio, one of the larger cities in the Lakeland region, where my base is Bella Lake Resort, a cluster of stylish cabins on the shoreline of Lake Kallavesi.

Not only does my cabin have a private sauna (naturally), and a deck with a staircase leading into the lake, but I’m steps away from Kuopion Saana, a sprawling complex with two saunas, an “experience shower” (complete with coloured lights and rainforest soundtrack) and an ice-cold plunge bath that’s thankfully out of action.

In between all the sauna-ing, Ari Lempinen, the manager of the property, invites me to join him for some “sausage grilling”. It turns out to be a popular summer pastime that involves heading to a fire shelter in the forest and, well, grilling some sausages.

He says there are dozens of shelters in the woods surrounding Kuopio, all featuring a simple open-sided hut, a fire pit and a shed that authorities keep stocked with firewood for anyone to use. Never mind Italy, I suspect this wouldn’t work in Australia either.

We cycle to a shelter on the outskirts of the city and share the space with a local couple and their two young children: a six-month-old, who’s happily playing on a mat on the forest floor, and a two-year-old, who’s busy foraging for blueberries in the bushes.

When the conversation turns to happiness, the husband is quick to point out that not everything is perfect. “Lots of people take antidepressants,” he says, “especially in the winter. But overall, things are fine. Everyone is equal, and the wealth gap is small.”

When I ask them if there’s a secret to Finland’s consistently high happiness rating, the wife gestures to the surrounding forest and says: “This.”

Down on the border

The final instalment in my happiness quest is a one-night stay at the Bear Centre, a remote 42-hectare property 3½ hours’ drive north-east of Kuopio that’s only one kilometre from the Russian border.

Every year, between April and October, wild brown bears visit the area, which has 29 photography hides, five luxury cabins and a two-storey viewing lodge. Other furry frequenters include wolverines, red foxes and, occasionally, lynx and wolves.

After an early supper in the reception area, owner Ari Saaski shows me to my cabin, a modern, glass-fronted villa that overlooks a valley dotted with birch, spruce and juniper. There are uninterrupted views of the forest from the double bed and two high-backed chairs, while a speaker connected to a microphone in the undergrowth means I’ll be able to hear anything rummaging around.

“Don’t leave the cabin before breakfast tomorrow,” he says, on his way out. “And I hope you are lucky.”

I settle in for the night, taking up residence in one of the chairs by the window, scanning the forest-scape in the dwindling light. There’s a constant background hum of insects and bees from the speaker, interspersed with the occasional attention-grabbing twig snap.

Just before the light fades completely, my patience is rewarded with the sight of a wolverine skipping nimbly through the undergrowth. Shortly afterwards, a red fox appears, its white-tipped tail darting around like a firefly.

The next morning I’m back in the chair at sunrise, wrapped in a doona and cradling a mug of tea. During the two hours before breakfast, the red fox returns and I see a handful of colourful Eurasian jays. But, sadly, no bears.

Surprisingly, I’m not disappointed. Which is odd because if you’d asked me at the start of this trip how I’d feel about staring into the wilderness for hours on end to see an animal that never shows up, I’d have probably replied: “Gutted.” Maybe it’s a newfound appreciation for nature and the soul-nourishing virtue of silence. Or perhaps it’s just a mindset change.

Back in Helsinki, when I asked Appelberg, my Sompasauna buddy, what he thought the secret to Finnish happiness was, he smiled and said, “It’s simple. Low expectations.”

It’s a characteristically laconic reply, but it says a lot. Clearly, there’s no quick fix for contentment, but aiming for equanimity rather than elation seems like a good start.

Five more happy places around the world

Denmark
Second in the World Happiness Report rankings for the past six years, Denmark also scores highly for trust, equality and social welfare. Visit for an intriguing mix of Viking history, innovative cuisine and a cosy dose of hygge.

Bhutan
Thanks to its unique focus on Gross National Happiness, a government policy that prioritises wellbeing over economic growth, Bhutan is often cited as one of the world’s happiest nations. Although expensive to visit, the rewards include dramatic Himalayan scenery, remote Buddhist monasteries and a feisty local cuisine.

Thailand
Famous for its warm welcome and authentic hospitality, the Land of Smiles ticks a lot of tourism boxes, thanks to a compelling combination of tropical beaches, historic temples and affordable big-city thrills.

Fiji
It’s impossible to say “bula” without smiling, which might explain Fijians’ famously sunny disposition. Throw in a stunning archipelago of beach-fringed islands, inviting turquoise waters and a family-friendly culture, and you’ll be grinning before you know it.

Costa Rica
This pint-sized Central American nation sneaked into the top 10 of the happiness rankings in 2025 and for good reason. Impressive biodiversity, a laudable commitment to ecotourism, and a “Pura Vida” attitude – that promotes simple pleasures over possessions – mean it’s practically a good-time guarantee.

THE DETAILS

TOUR
Nordic specialist 50 Degrees North can organise a bespoke Finnish itinerary including flights, accommodation, activities and meals. See fiftydegreesnorth.com

WHEN
June, July and August are the best (and busiest) times to visit the Lakeland region, with balmy temperatures and long, sunny days. May and September are quieter and bring spring blooms and autumn colours.

FLY
Several airlines offer a one-stop service to Helsinki, including Qantas, Qatar Airways and Japan Airlines. Finnair has daily flights from Oulu to Helsinki. See qantas.com; qatarairways.com; jal.co.jp; finnair.com

MORE
myhelsinki.fi

visitfinland.com

The writer was a guest of 50 Degrees North and Helsinki Partners.