Finland will reject 20,000 of the 32,000 persons who made application for asylum in 2015, joining other Nordic countries and Germany in publicly deterring the exodus from the strife-ridden Middle East. While I condemn this in principle, can I point out that the Finnish Interior Ministry are being a little disingenuous, insofar as, unlike the other countries, most asylums who arrive in Finland actually withdraw their applications in favour of going home?  Whereas in Germany asylum seekers can look forward to reclining on the banks of the Rhine with a nice wurst or two to compliment their litre of doppelbock, in Finland there’s only this fermented mystery-meat my mother called makkara and maybe a chipped enamel cup of glögi at Christmas, if you can bring yourself to give Mrs Happy a tickle.









So while it’s comprehensible (but totally unacceptable) that all those ‘men of Arab or North African appearance’ might want to go on a groping rampage through the streets of Cologne after filling their bellies with delicious German bier, they would have received a warmer reception in the libidinal wilderness of Juujärvi, a Finnish town in the Arctic Circle that’s mystifyingly short on TripAdvisor reviews, where I’m told we have experienced mature ladies waiting to please, right now, with the added benefit for footsore immigrants that these women don’t run as fast as the Germans.









You could easily understand why the ill-educated orphans of a lonely Syrian goatherd might covet a new beginning, after escaping the airless confines of their familial dung-brick house in downtown Al Mnajeer on foot with nothing but a bowl of marinated goat’s testicles to sustain them.  Imagine then the extinguishment of all hope from their cherubic little faces when they step off the bus, four hundred kilometres deep into a part of Lapland not even Santa’s elves will visit, only to be greeted by their new daddies!  It just brings tears to your eyes.











Dodging the bullets of ISIL fanatics, these people fled into the desert with nothing more than a goat’s bladder for a water bottle and half a rotten springbok between them for sustenance.  Spare a thought for every one of them that marched through a dozen refugee-processing centres on the borders of a dozen unfriendly wealthy European countries, who endured the snarling hateful bigotry of privileged white men and women, only to finally arrive at a place that welcomed them with open arms…

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