The Arctic Wilderness

When we arrived at camp, the wilderness cabin where we would be staying for two nights, I was stunned to find out that we’d been going for more than three hours. We had flown into Kiruna, Sweden’s northernmost town, earlier that afternoon. After a hot lunch and a quick briefing, we were kitted out in our Arctic gear and given a little scrap of paper with the names of our dogs. I was given Miki and the oldest and loveliest of the dogs Tofa in the front, and in the back I had Toby and Balto; before I knew it I was standing on my individual sled with four impatient huskies pulling eagerly at the reins. I lifted my foot off the brake… and we were off! Now, I’m really not a dog person, and I must admit that this was the part of the trip that I had thought the least about (except to imagine sitting down in something more like Santa’s sleigh) – but after this first afternoon of sledding through the frozen landscape of Narnia, I mean Kiruna, I would have happily ended the trip there with no regrets.

The dogs were beautiful and tame on the one hand but their howling when they were hungry or when they wanted to get going made them seem much closer to their wolf cousins on the other.

That night, we fed the huskies and then ourselves, rewarding ourselves further with some relaxation in the sauna hut. We alternated the roasting inside with sprints out into the snow to cool down, hesitant at first but getting more and more daring with each go, eventually frolicking freely in the snow before heading in to get warmed up.

When we were once again fully dressed, we headed back out into the snow for what we had all been secretly hoping for: a chance to see the northern lights. There are trips that focus only on this, chasing the aurora borealis with experts who will all but guarantee a sighting; for us, though, this would be a bonus, on top of an adventure that had already more than delivered. It’s impossible to capture the majesty of this phenomenon but a photo gives you a little taster of what we witnessed that night. The night was clear, the stars much brighter than what we are used to back home with all the industrial light pollution that comes with living in the city. Someone spotted a hint of something at the horizon. A cloud? It’s nothing. Then… maybe it’s something? A swirl of light getting slowly brighter, a hint of green, reaching up into the sky. Suddenly: yes! Not a cloud after all. We’re actually seeing them, a whirl of light dancing across the sky, vibrant and alive. Science may explain it all with particles and cosmic rays and solar flares but whatever the cause it is in awe-inspiring sight, a magical moment in the depths of the Arctic wilderness. A short flight and yet a long, long way away from home…

It’s impossible to capture the majesty of this phenomenon but a photo gives you a little taster of what we witnessed that night. The night was clear, the stars much brighter than what we are used to back home with all the industrial light pollution that comes with living in the city. Someone spotted a hint of something at the horizon. A cloud? It’s nothing. Then… maybe it’s something? A swirl of light getting slowly brighter, a hint of green, reaching up into the sky. Suddenly: yes! Not a cloud after all. We’re actually seeing them, a whirl of light dancing across the sky, vibrant and alive. Science may explain it all with particles and cosmic rays and solar flares but whatever the cause it is in awe-inspiring sight, a magical moment in the depths of the Arctic wilderness. A short flight and yet a long, long way away from home…

The dogs were beautiful and tame on the one hand but their howling when they were hungry or when they wanted to get going made them seem much closer to their wolf cousins on the other.

In fact, when we were nearing the end and travelling through a narrow and windy bit that had thrown a lot of people off their sledges on that first day, this time we glided through like pros. I love how a group of amateurs can get to a sufficient level of skill to enjoy something as random as dog sledding within just a couple of days, or even hours, of picking up those reins.

We finished our weekend with a trip to the Ice Hotel, a complex that is re-designed and re-constructed every year after the “snice” (what an awesome word! It’s a mixture of snow and ice) thaws and melts in summer. We didn’t spend the night in the -6 degree rooms but we did manage a few cocktails from the Ice Bar; a month later, we were drinking from the same glasses in the Ice Bar in London (ice from the Torne River is shipped from Sweden to London for this purpose) where we had an Arctic reunion. It wasn’t quite the same – but the cocktails were still tasty! And, of course, that’s the other thing about any adventure like this: the people you meet are inevitably kindred spirits.