The wind sweeps along the coast, carrying the scent of salt and moss with it.
Well—let’s call it what it is: a proper gust of wind shoving sea spray and earthy moss straight up our noses. A free, unsolicited spa treatment from Mother Nature herself.
And yet, here I am again, five years later, standing in front of the house where Isak Saba grew up.
Back in 2019, I already felt an inexplicable connection to Sámi culture—a people of travelers, wanderers, those who feel at home in the vast openness of the North.
Maybe that’s what it is for me: the urge to be on the move. Not with a herd of reindeer, but with my own search for meaning—drawn to the beauty of empty landscapes.
But something’s different this time. I brought my girlfriend with me, just like I promised, to show her the most beautiful places I know.
And yet… something has changed. In the place, in myself, or maybe just in the way memories never quite replay the way you stored them.
Still, as my eyes scan the endless Barents Sea, I get it—I get why Isak Saba found his inspiration here.
This land demands your attention. It forces you to think. To listen—to the wind, and to the silence in between.
This isn’t just a pretty view.
This is a place with a story. A wooden house, modest and weathered, but steeped in history.
This is where Isak Saba grew up—a man who was more than just a teacher or a politician. He was a voice for his people. A collector of stories. A bridge between an ancient culture and a world that too often looked the other way.
In 1906, he became the first Sámi to take a seat in the Norwegian parliament, the Storting.
He fought for his people’s rights, gave them an anthem, gathered their legends, and gave them a voice.
His words still echo through the fjords, across the tundras, carried in the stories passed on by firelight.
And me? I’m just a traveler—drawn to something I can’t fully explain.
Maybe that’s the essence of the Far North:
It makes you feel something, even when you don’t have the words for it.
On the Road to…
Isak Saba’s Birthplace – A Visit That Requires Precision Parking
This historic gem is a must-see—but only if your vehicle isn’t bigger than your sense of adventure. The road is narrow, the parking options are… creative, and overnight stays? Only if you don’t mind waking up to a curious Norwegian wondering how the hell you got there.
From the E6 highway, there’s a small white sign that says ‘Sabahunset’… blink and you’ll miss it.
Camper & Overlander:
Got a compact van or a small camper? You’ll manage.
Rolling in with a giant RV? Perfect chance to test the local tractor as a towing service.
Motorcycle:
Totally doable—but don’t expect a Harley-meets-highway cruise.
This is more like “gravel meets balancing act.”
Make sure you bring a solid wide kickstand—gravel roads and grass parking love to turn your precious bike horizontal.
Bicycle:
If you’re into gravel roads and sleepy villages, this is your jam.
Just don’t forget a sturdy bike stand—gravel and falling bicycles are a match made in cycling heaven (or hell, depending on your perspective).
On Foot:
Yes, technically, you can walk.
But let’s be honest—if you’ve made it here on foot, chances are you’ve already driven most of the way and are now relying on your legs as Plan B.
Best Time to Visit?
When there’s still daylight.
Navigating a gravel road barely wide enough for one car—at night?
That’s the kind of adventure best left to a Norwegian with night vision and nerves of steel.
Parking
Limited. Think: “first three lucky souls” rule.
Quirky Factor
A historic spot you’ll almost drive past by accident—because you’re too busy staring at the jaw-dropping scenery.
A Toilet in the Field and a Museum That Was Closed (But Still Did Something)
Back in 2019, on my first ride toward the Isak Saba cabin, I had to stop.
Not because I’d reached the house—far from it—but because, out of nowhere, in the middle of an open field… there it was. A toilet.
One of those toilets that makes you go: “What are you even doing here?”
Followed immediately by: “Thank God you are.”
I really had to go.
And yeah—once you’re done, you quickly realize why there aren’t any seabirds hanging around that toilet.
At least, not after my visit…
Since I’d parked in front of a building that looked like a museum, a woman opened the door.
I apologized for trespassing, but she laughed and said in Norwegian, “No problem at all—that’s exactly what it’s there for.”
Politely, I asked what kind of museum it was.
She told me it belonged to her husband, but he wasn’t around.
Still, she was happy to call him—maybe he could drop by and give me a private tour.
So kind. Truly.
But there I stood in my autumn jacket, it was October, and the museum only opens in summer.
And right then, I felt it: No, this doesn’t need to happen.
I thanked her kindly.
Sometimes, it’s enough just to know that someone was willing.
Later, I looked up where I had actually been—and with the info she gave me, I pieced it together.
The Sea Sámi Museum in Byluft
A man named Helmer Losoa spent decades collecting objects from the daily lives of the coastal Sámi—a group often forgotten, since most stories are about the reindeer-herding Sámi.
But these people lived from fishing, hunting, farming—everything the sea and the harsh North could offer.
No glass display cases. No digital gimmicks.
Just real things that were really used: wooden boats, old radios, coffee pots, boots.
Some items you’re even allowed to touch—if Helmer is around and you ask nicely.
He started collecting after returning to his childhood village years later, only to find everything had changed.
Plastic everywhere. Motors. The old ways vanishing.
So he decided to preserve it. And he did.
I never went inside.
And strangely—that was okay.
The woman who opened the door, the stillness around the house, that odd little toilet in the field…
It all made the moment feel a bit magical.
Or at the very least… very Norwegian.
Nerdy Deep Dive: Who Was Isak Saba?
The Pioneer of the Sámi Movement and Guardian of Folklore
Isak Mikal (Mikkel) Saba (1875–1921) was a remarkable figure in Sámi history: the first Sámi politician to serve in the Norwegian Parliament (Storting), a folklorist, and a cultural activist. His work laid the foundation for the modern Sámi movement—despite his own poor health and the pressures of state-driven assimilation. His legacy spans both political reform and an invaluable record of Sámi culture and folklore.
Early Life and Education
Saba was born on November 15, 1875, in Reppen, Nesseby, in the far north of Norway (Finnmark). One of seven children, he grew up in a traditional Sámi environment where herding and fishing shaped everyday life. His father, Per Sabbasen, was a seasonal trader, and his mother, Britha Aikio, came from a family with deep Sámi roots.
In 1895, Saba was awarded a free place at Tromsø Teachers’ College, graduating in 1898. He began working as a teacher in Lebesby but later took time off (1900–1903) to complete his high school diploma in Kristiania (now Oslo) and Tromsø. He had hoped to study theology but couldn’t afford it.
In 1905, he returned to Nesseby as a teacher and church cantor/interpreter. That same year, he married Marie Hansdatter Holm, a midwife. Together they had three children.
Political Career and the Fight Against Norwegianization
Saba was a political trailblazer who championed the rights of Sámi language, culture, and identity. In 1906, he became the first Sámi elected to the Norwegian Parliament, representing East Finnmark for the Labour Party. His election was the result of a unique alliance between Sámi political voices and socialists.
This was during a time of aggressive Norwegianization: a national policy that actively tried to assimilate the Sámi. Schools in Sámi areas were reshaped to erase Sámi language and culture. Sámi children were sent to boarding schools, Sámi teachers lost their jobs, and the language was banned from classrooms.
Saba openly opposed this. In a 1906 interview with Skolebladet, he stated that Norwegianization was only acceptable if it helped Sámi children learn Norwegian—but not if it meant forcing them to abandon their identity.
In Parliament, he successfully defended the free study placements at Tromsø Teachers’ College for Sámi- and Finnish-speaking students—though the policy wasn’t fully implemented. He served until 1912 but narrowly lost reelection by just 30 votes.
Cultural Heritage and Folklore Work
Outside politics, Saba was deeply committed to preserving Sámi cultural heritage. He collected fairy tales, legends, and folk melodies in Varanger and among the Skolt Sámi in Neiden. His archive—over 600 pages of stories and photographs—is now part of Norway’s national folk collection.
His work was especially valuable because he was one of the few fluent speakers of Skolt Sámi, a rare dialect. In 1920, he published Lappish Place Names, a pioneering work on Sámi toponymy (place names). His materials offer unique insights into Sámi life, language, and landscape at the crossroads of Norway, Finland, and Russia in the early 20th century.
Sámi soga lávlla – The Sámi National Anthem
In 1906, Saba published his famous poem Sámi soga lávlla in the Sámi newspaper Sagai Muitalægje.
In 1986, it was officially adopted as the Sámi National Anthem.
The poem reflects the deep connection between the Sámi people, their land, and their heritage—and it stands as a symbol of their ongoing struggle for recognition and autonomy.
Final Years and Legacy
From 1916, Saba worked as a teacher in Vardø, continuing to write and collect folklore. He had suffered from a chronic heart condition since he was 19, but remained active until his death on June 1, 1921, at the age of 46.
While his efforts against assimilation had limited results during his lifetime, his legacy grew in the decades that followed. He is now remembered as a pioneer of Sámi identity and resistance.
His anthem is still sung today—a powerful reminder of what it means to belong, to remember, and to speak up for your people.
Isak Saba was a cornerstone figure in Sámi history, bridging the worlds of activism and cultural preservation. His influence continues to shape the Sámi movement and their efforts to keep their language and traditions alive—not just in Norway, but across the entire Sápmi region.
Isak Saba senteret