Issue № 55 · August 25, 2026 · 4 min

The Long Way South

On flying north to reach the tropics, and the quiet comfort of a single ticket.

By 5A

The light at BER in late winter is thin and sideways. On the departure board, Bangkok sits under a list of places that make more immediate sense: Munich, Zurich, Helsinki. Helsinki, at first glance, is the wrong direction.

Someone in Germany wants to go from Berlin to Bangkok this year, but via Helsinki, on Finnair, on one ticket, in business if possible, using Avios moved over from American Express. It is a specific request, the kind that lives in forums and spreadsheets, and it is also a very human one.

Because to get to Thailand from Berlin, you would not normally go north. You go southeast, over the Balkans, over Turkey. Finnair’s geography has always been a gentle argument against the map. For decades its promise was the great circle shortcut: over the pole, the shortest way to Asia is to point the nose at the Arctic. Even now, with Russian airspace closed and the routes bent southward over the Caucasus and Central Asia, the habit remains. Finnair still flies Helsinki to Bangkok. In 2026 it does so most days on an A350-900, ten and a half hours down, a little longer coming back, chasing the wind.

The question is not just can I get there. It is can I get there on one PNR.

A PNR is six characters, letters and numbers, meaningless to anyone else. For the traveler it is a small spell against abandonment. One PNR means Berlin to Helsinki to Bangkok is one promise, not two. The bag is through-checked. If the feeder from BER is late, the airline must wait, or rebook, or take responsibility. If you book BER-HEL and HEL-BKK separately, even with the same airline, you are two travelers stitched together by your own optimism. There is no obligation between your two selves.

That is why premium cabin matters here too, but not for the reason the brochures think. It is not the flat bed or the pre-departure lingonberry juice. It is the extra margin. Business class on Finnair Plus, when you can find it, prices at a distance-based logic that still remembers zones: roughly 95,000 Avios one-way from Northern Europe to Bangkok in business on Finnair metal, plus a few hundred euros that Finnair calls surcharges and the rest of us call inevitability. Economy is less, less than half. Availability comes and goes in twos and ones. You have to look segment by segment on Finnair’s own site, or hold your breath on British Airways’ award search and then call.


I have taken that northern detour. HEL at 4 p.m. in winter is already night. The airport is quiet, wood-paneled, efficient in a way that makes you lower your voice. You deplane from a short European hop and walk a few minutes and board a long-haul aircraft that smells faintly of coffee and wool. The logic of it is not geographic. It is psychological.

We like to leave the continent from its edge. To fly north first, away from where we are going, gives the journey a threshold. Berlin is handling and headlines and U-Bahn air. Helsinki is snow on the wingtip, blue hour, a pause. Then Bangkok. The tropics are too abrupt otherwise. We need a staging area for heat.

The booking question, when you strip the Avios math away, is about wanting someone else to hold the whole arc. Not just to issue the boarding passes, but to acknowledge that Berlin and Bangkok are connected, that your suitcase — and by extension, you — will not be left in an airport that is dark by mid-afternoon.

You can book BER-HEL-BKK as a single Finnair Plus award. The system will allow it, if there is space on both legs, and it will price as one award from Berlin to Bangkok, not two awards added together. That is the whole point of a program like Finnair Plus. You search for the long leg first, HEL-BKK, and then add the short leg, or you search origin to destination and hope the engine is generous that day. Sometimes it is not. Sometimes you must be flexible by a day. Flexibility is the other word for faith.

On the map my seatback screen shows, the aircraft turns south somewhere over Latvia and does not turn again for hours. It is a long way south.

And somewhere below, a bag tag printed in Berlin is making the same turn.